Three Thousand Court Ladies - Chapter 95

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 95
Wol-ya lifted his gaze to the cloudless sky.
Beyond the ridge of mountains, a reddish glow was spreading. Whether from the restless activity since morning or some other cause, this day felt unusually long.
The wind was dry, and the sunset burned crimson—signs that rain would not fall anytime soon.
It was the drought that came in season. Yet now that the song had spread, people would surely believe a woman’s tears were the cause of the dearth.
Barring unforeseen complications, events would unfold according to Sam-cheon’s design.
Wol-ya lowered his gaze, turning over in his mind what was yet to come, when Sam-cheon appeared. She stopped before him, her expression brightened by his presence.
“You’ve arrived. Dam-no can only be introduced once the princess concludes her address—he’s been assigned to fence repairs.”
“I see. Shall we go eat first, then?”
“You seem to be in good spirits.”
“The people from Mokseo-gung will arrive soon. She’s like a mother to me.”
Deok-sim was like a mother not only to Sam-cheon but to Gye-san and Geum as well. The three had grown up eating the meals she prepared, cradled in her worry.
The two of them made their way to the communal dining hall. The moment Sam-cheon and Wol-ya appeared side by side, the cheerful chatter around them fell silent at once.
A-rang, who had been standing in a long line waiting for her portion, widened her eyes and quickly hid behind San-cho.
“Why are you hiding?”
“I don’t know.”
Sam-cheon accepted the soldiers’ salutes and took her place at the back of the line with Wol-ya. Soon the serving began. Sam-cheon received her tray—seasoned vegetables and pickled greens arranged on it—and found a seat. Wol-ya naturally claimed the space beside her.
The soup was doled out to taste from a common pot. After waiting her turn, Sam-cheon filled a wooden bowl roughly halfway with broth and settled herself. She had just raised her spoon.
“Let me eat.”
That was when Sam-cheon had only just lifted the spoon.
Wol-ya, who had begun eating first, raised his brows. A thin trickle of blood ran from between his lips.
He wiped his mouth roughly with the back of his hand, then seized Sam-cheon’s wrist.
“Poison.”
The moment Wol-ya cried out, the grains of rice in the spoon flew away.
Sam-cheon looked up in shock, and over Wol-ya’s shoulder, an unthinkable sight unfolded.
A soldier who had been eating suddenly collapsed to the side.
It was only the beginning.
One soldier, then another.
Those falling and those crying out in alarm alternated in swift succession.
The instant Sam-cheon sprang to her feet, her eyes fell upon A-rang and San-cho seated in a corner.
Blood streamed from the corners of A-rang’s mouth. San-cho’s heavy frame then tilted slowly to one side.
The moment their bodies crumpled to the floor in sequence, someone lurched upright and blocked her view. He staggered forward, vomiting blood, before collapsing.
Wherever Sam-cheon’s gaze fell, there was a soldier spewing blood. Chang-byeong, who was said to have fathered three children; Bok-nam, whose slow gait had made him an archer; Sam-dol and the other shield-bearers—all the same.
Soldiers who had survived battlefields where arrows fell like rain now collapsed from a single spoonful of rice that they had swallowed without suspicion.
How utterly meaningless it all was.
Someone cried out a fallen soldier’s name with the sound of anguish. Through the tangle of screams and shouts, Wol-ya’s voice cut through.
“Let go.”
Sam-cheon’s fingertips had gone pale white from gripping the spoon so tightly. Wol-ya carefully took it from her hands and set it down.
Then he pressed his fingers to the neck of a fallen soldier. Sam-cheon watched him with desperate hope, but Wol-ya only narrowed his brow and slowly shook his head.
“He is dead.”
At the pronouncement, Sam-cheon’s body began to tremble. Whether sorrow or rage, the distinction dissolved as a torrent of emotion surged through her, and her throat burned white-hot.
Someone had killed the soldiers.
By a method so cowardly and cruel.
What mad bastard would do such a thing?
I-re’s sharp voice pulled Sam-cheon back to herself.
This was no time to stand paralyzed by rage. She had to find whoever had done this and make them pay the price.
“You three!”
Sam-cheon pointed to three soldiers nearby. They had been pale-faced, clinging to and shaking their fallen comrades, but they snapped to attention at her command. The first one to recover spoke up.
“What are your orders?”
“Two of you assess the damage. The rest—separate the dead from the injured and compile their symptoms for a report.”
All three answered “Yes” in unison and moved. Sam-cheon then approached a cluster of soldiers and gave orders to each group in turn.
“Bring every ingredient used in the kitchen. Bring the storehouse manager, the people who prepared the food, and the servers as well. If anyone resists or attempts to flee, you may use force.”
They answered with one voice and dispersed with urgency. Listening to the footsteps scatter, Sam-cheon singled out three more soldiers and spoke.
“Two of you find the princess and the commander and report to them. The rest—lock down the entrances. No one enters or leaves from this moment on.”
Following Sam-cheon’s coldly restored commands, the soldiers moved with diligence.
Wol-ya, surveying the surroundings, spoke quietly.
“It is extreme poison. The symptoms suggest Bigae-cho.”
Only then did she notice the blood smeared at his lips—proof that he had been the first to recognize the poison and had stepped in.
Sam-cheon asked in a small voice.
“You didn’t consume any?”
“I’m fine.”
She had not wanted to learn the truth of his words—that he does not die—in such a way.
“Thank you for warning us.”
Just then, the kitchen staff began bringing in ingredients, and chaos erupted. A soldier soon approached and reported.
“Twenty-one dead. There were no mild cases. All who ingested the poison are deceased.”
The soldier’s voice trembled as he spoke.
Sam-cheon clenched her fists against the desolation.
Then, bewildered people were dragged into the dining hall by soldiers. Upon seeing the scene of carnage, they screamed.
But only one person.
Only one collapsed as if her legs had given way, muttering to herself.
“This… this… is this all? What have I done?”
Yeong-hwa, the cook who had shared a hearth with them for more than three years.
So she was the one who had brought this calamity upon them.
When Sam-cheon strode forward and stopped before her, Yeong-hwa trembled like an aspen leaf, her mouth working soundlessly in terror.
“I didn’t know it would come to this. What am I to do?”
Sam-cheon looked down at Yeong-hwa, whose confession lay bare and unspoken. Yeong-hwa flinched at the coldness in her eyes and pressed her forehead to the ground, pleading.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I think I must have been mad.”
Regret after the deed is done changes nothing. The soldiers they had shared hardship with had already lost their lives.
Sam-cheon did not wish to hear such empty apologies. She cut through her remorse.
“Explain.”
“Well… I went home yesterday and my son wasn’t there. A man in dark clothes came and said he was holding my son—that if I didn’t do as he said, he’d kill him…”
Tears streamed from Yeong-hwa’s eyes.
“I knew it was wrong, but… he said it would just make people sick, nothing more. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to save my son…”
How dare she weep after bringing things to this state?
Yeong-hwa, rambling incoherently, finally poured out her grief.
“He’ll hurt Woong too, won’t he? There’s no reason he’d return him safely.”
I-re spoke with cold derision.
As if her own child were the only one precious in this world.
Sam-cheon’s fists tightened. Rage roiled in her chest. But this was no time to indulge in anger.
She looked away from Yeong-hwa, who had begun to wail, and turned to the soldiers.
“Take her to a corner and interrogate her. You may use torture—extract everything you can. Report to me as you learn anything new.”
“I made a mistake. Please, spare me!”
As Yeong-hwa was dragged toward the back of the dining hall, begging for mercy, Sam-cheon turned away and splashed cold water on her face.
Why hadn’t Gye-san and Geum arrived yet? Had something happened to them as well?
Her hands grew cold with anxiety. Sam-cheon wiped the cold sweat from her palms onto her skirt and turned to look at Wol-ya.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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