It was getting dark. The trees, tall and shadowed, loomed like quiet sentinels over the forest floor as the guards moved around with measured precision, setting up the evening's tent. Their torches flickered in the growing dusk, casting long, dancing shadows on the ground. Somewhere close by, an owl hooted, as if marking the shift of power from day to night.
Tae So stood beneath a large cedar tree, its bark cool against his back. His eyes were fixed not on the guards or the flickering lights but on the silent woman seated near a cluster of rocks. The same woman who had played the pipa for them several days ago, her music hauntingly beautiful, steeped in sadness and something else he couldn't name.
She had not played since Song Joo, the Prime Minister, told her to rest. Not a single note. Yet she still followed them, quietly tagging along like a shadow, silent, unobtrusive, and deeply unsettling.
Tae So couldn't understand it. Why hadn't she made her excuses and left? They had passed through two towns already. She had ample opportunity to disappear. But instead, she walked the same pace as their entourage, ate when the rest did, and slept quietly beneath the stars with the others. It was as if she belonged. But she didn't.
He didn't trust her a bit and he had no reason to. Maybe she was there to warm Song Joo's bed in secret, or perhaps... they already knew each other. The thought curled uncomfortably in his gut.
He had even excused himself earlier, venturing deep into the woods to relieve himself and lingered long enough on purpose, hoping Song Joo would seize the privacy to speak with her, reveal something in action or conversation. But no such moment occurred. When he returned, she was in the same position seated at a distance, eyes downcast, lips sealed shut. Like a doll waiting to be called upon.
The silence around her screamed louder than any note she might have played.
Tae So couldn't help himself anymore. He had to speak to her.
Tae So hesitated, a tightness coiling in his throat as he stood just a few paces from the woman, her head bowed low in silence, as if she hadn't noticed his presence, or was deliberately pretending not to.
The only thing he truly wanted to ask her, the only thing that had plagued his thoughts through endless nights and silent marches was whether she had seen her. Thewoman.
The deaf pipa player.
The one whose silent presence haunted his sleep more than any nightmare ever could. Her music, soft and beautiful still lived under his skin, refusing to fade. He saw her in every flicker of fire, heard her in every rustle of wind. She was the ghost in his thoughts, the ache in his chest.
He burned to ask Have you seen her? The mute woman who plays the pipa like her soul is breaking?
The words were right there, clawing at the back of his mind but his tongue stayed chained.
He approached. Quietly.
"You," he said simply, his voice low but direct.
She startled slightly, then quickly lowered herself to her knees, bowing until her head nearly touched the earth.
"Yes, your esteemed Sir," she replied in a voice no louder than a whisper.
Tae So paused. Perhaps it wasn't wise to ask. If Song Joo questioned her later, she might repeat every word. Giving him away that he was searching for the deaf woman. And if Song Joo ever asked why, it would be impossible to explain. He couldn't exactly say he wanted to keep her for himself.
"Do you know who we are?" he asked.
She jerked slightly, and he caught the small tremor in her hands.
"Raise your head," he ordered, watching her intently.
She obeyed immediately, her face lifting toward him. It was pale in the soft firelight, but calm, too calm, perhaps.
"No, your esteemed sir." She replied firmly.
No?
Tae So couldn't believe it. Nothing they had done should have revealed their identities, yet it was obvious to anyone that they were either wealthy merchants or government officials. But with no goods in tow, the latter seemed more likely. That meant the woman probably knew exactly who they were likely in terms of post and her meeting them, even choosing to travel with them, might not have been a coincidence at all.
"Raise your head." Tae So said when he noticed she was about to lower her head, he needed to see her expression so he watched as she raised her gaze."Who are you?" He asked.
"I am called Min and I am a nobody Sir," she said clearly. "I travel from place to place, playing the pipa to earn coin. I submitted an application to the House of Stories... but was rejected. So, I move on to the next destination." She explained.
"Which is?" Tae So pressed.
"Nowhere," she said without flinching.
"So you have no destination?" Tae had to ask as he narrowed his eyes wearing a I do not believe you look.
"Yes, your esteemed sir."
He studied her face. Every word rang true. And that terrified him more than any lie would have. She wasn't deceiving him, but there was still something veiled in her gaze. Something ancient. Something dangerous. Was it perhaps his imagination?
"Do you know anyone that plays the pipa?" he asked suddenly, the words slipping out before he could weigh them. He was burning to know. "Have you met any pipa players at the House of Stories? Any of them?"
Before she could answer, a third voice broke through.
"Do you perhaps need a pipa player?"
Tae So stiffened. He hadn't even heard Song Joo approach.
He turned slowly, his heart pounding.
The Prime Minister stood behind him, arms casually folded, expression unreadable. Tae So's lips parted in protest, but nothing came out.
"Hmm..." he managed and he sounded like he just agreed to needing a pipa player.
Song Joo smiled faintly. "She plays beautifully. I believe she would be a perfect personal tutor for your daughter."
Tae So blinked. "Ehn?"
"You know how fierce the competition is at court. This woman... she didn't miss a single note. Her music was refined, soothing. It would be a shame to waste such talent. And besides, she mentioned she had no destination, nowhere to go."
Tae So's heart skipped. How much had Song Joo heard? And for how long had he been listening?
"But… but my daughter already has a tutor. A personal one," he protested weakly, his voice low and carefully polite. In truth, he wasn't even sure if his daughter played the pipa or any instrument at all. He didn't know what she liked, what she studied. But still, he thought, knowing how to play an instrument could only be an advantage.
"Feeding another mouth in your household shouldn't be a burden, and I doubt your current daughter trainer could rival her skill. We should help those in need, should we not?" Soo Joo said as he placed a hand firmly on Tae So's shoulder and he nodded.
There was a finality to Song Joo's words that left no room for argument. Tae So found himself nodding.
"Oh yes... yes," he said, then caught himself mid-nod. He froze, a wave of realization crashing over him.
He had just agreed to bring a complete stranger into his home.
A stranger who might not be a stranger to Song Joo at all.
A stranger who could be dangerous.
If she were the pipa woman he had been searching for, he would've been overjoyed to offer his help but something about aiding the woman before him didn't sit right with him.
His daughter hadn't even learned martial arts, so having the woman stay close to her felt dangerous. What irritated him more was how the Prime Minister had casually thrown the burden onto him when he could've just taken her to his own home instead. Everything about it seemed suspicious.
Suddenly, a loud rustle sounded from above. A messenger bird circled overhead, then swooped down and landed neatly on Song Joo's outstretched hand. With the elegance of habit, the Prime Minister unbuckled the wooden container attached to the bird's leg and unrolled the paper inside.
Tae So watched his expression shift. The light faded from Song Joo's eyes, replaced by something sharp, urgent.
"I have to leave immediately," he said, turning briskly towards his personal guard. "Do Kyung!"
"Yes, Master!" Do Kyung ran up to them and bowed once almost like he nodded.
"You will choose capable guards to escort the Minister of Environment back to the capital. You are with me." His voice left no room for questioning.
Tae So frowned. "Wait, what?"
But Song Joo was already issuing instructions.
"We leave now. The Minister of Environment will head home with half the guard." And with that, Do Kyung disappeared into the shadows probably to set up for the unknown Song Joo journey.
Tae So stood there, stunned and seething. Once again, Song Joo had kept him in the dark. Like a child.
He gritted his teeth. The remaining guards were far too few for comfort. Traveling with so little protection was dangerous. But more than that, he felt humiliated. In his entire life, he had never traveled with so few guards. The fact that they were split evenly between him and Song Joo did little to reassure him. If Song Joo was going to wander off to heavens-know-where, the least he could do was take his personal guard and leave the rest with him.
He waited patiently, watching as Song Joo mounted his horse and rode off with half the guards and Do Kyung, leaving the carriage behind. Tae So felt a quiet relief, he couldn't imagine riding a horse all the way to the capital, risking stomach pain or sheer exhaustion. The carriage was a mercy.
Woong appeared shortly after, unfolding a chair for his master as he stood patiently waiting for Tae So to take a seat.
"Come," Tae So said, and the two men moved away from the group, deeper into the woods, far from prying ears.
Tae So took his seat after Woong set it down, ensuring they were far enough from prying ears. This conversation needed to remain private.
"What did you find out?" Tae So asked, eager, desperate.
Woong bowed slightly. "The goblin who told the tale of the next general, he was paid to do it. It was a deliberate move to stir rumors. To plant the idea in people's minds of that it is coming. I believe the rumour has spread all over."
"Who paid him?" Tae So snapped, already growing impatient. He needed to know the details fast.
"It's either someone in the royal family… or the Prime Minister himself." Woong said more like a whisper.
Tae So could sense there was much he didn't know too much. It seemed the royal family or the Prime Minister might be scheming to lure the next general out, perhaps to protect Jeong… or maybe something far more powerful was in motion.
Tae So's pulse spiked. "And the man who came to see Song Joo, who was he?"
"I found out he entered after the doors to the hall in the House of Stories had closed. He showed a command plate to the guards. The description fits the man who met with the Prime Minister. He left only after the goblin was shot. He's likely the one who killed him… but the wound doesn't match the kind a long-range weapon would leave and since he showed the command plate at the door also means he might have gone there to investigate or watch the ending of the goblin and might not have anything to do with the murder."
"So… Hong Gi may have found out who was behind the assassination or investigation, and went to confront Song Joo himself since the goblin is an asset to him."
"It's likely."
"Then why… why would he call the Prime Minister by name?"
"The Prime Minister once served Magistrate Hong Gi's father. Possibly as a servant. But the details are unclear, Master."
Tae So rubbed his temple. "And the goblin...why kill him after paying him?"
"That, I do not know."
"And Woong why is it difficult for you to find out the exact details?" Tae So had to ask, it was actually the first time his personal guard would found it difficult to get information. "Never mind, You know what to do when you get to the capital."
"Yes Master, I will get in touch with the ghost informant."
He let out a long breath, heavy and bitter. His thoughts drifted back to the silent woman, still seated under the tree, unmoving.
He pointed toward her.
"That woman...find out everything. Who she is. What she knows. If anything seems off, if you so much as suspect her of deceit...kill her."
Woong gave a deep bow. "Yes, Master."
Tae So watched the firelight flicker as night fully claimed the forest around them. There were too many secrets. Too many half-truths and unspoken names.
He sighed deeply.
There was much to uncover.
And time was running out.