Chapter 32: The Hidden Shadow within the Prescription

Without a doubt, Court Lady Cho had rushed straight to Noble Consort Sa. Since entering and leaving the imperial palace drew too much attention, she had most likely slipped out to meet with one of the Consort’s trusted palace servants to pass on the latest news from the Myeong estate.

Anok took a quiet breath and straightened his back.

In his past life, he had discovered the truth far too late. Believing there was absolutely nothing he could do, he had simply allowed himself to be trampled over. Though he still did not fully grasp the entire truth or every mastermind behind the scenes in this second life, he could at least weaponize the fragments of information he did possess.

“Yes, Noble Consort Sa did indeed send me a restorative tonic before our wedding. But Han-wol, one must always be exceptionally cautious when handling medicine.”

“Your Highness?”

Young Han-wol’s eyes widened in surprise. It was plain to see that the boy was suddenly terrified that the tonic he had faithfully brewed according to the doctor’s orders might have actually caused Anok harm instead.

Anok offered a gentle, reassuring smile and patted the boy’s shoulder.

“Even something meant to be a cure can transform into a deadly poison if its components clash with another treatment. That is why we must verify what is inside it, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, of course! We must check immediately. It was my utter carelessness to overlook this. Please forgive my severe mistake, Master Anok.”

Seeing that Han-wol’s eyes were already brimming with tears of panic, Anok shook his head softly and explained in a calm, measured voice.

“You did nothing wrong, Han-wol. I simply wish to discover the exact ingredients of the tonic Noble Consort Sa sent. There might be components that clash with the imperial physician’s new prescription, or perhaps…… there was a specific herb included that my body should never have ingested.”

The true weight lay in his final words: an herb he should never have ingested. That was undoubtedly the secret hidden within the empty gift Noble Consort Sa had labeled a restorative tonic.

Though young, Han-wol had spent years enduring Seol Ga-mook’s abuse, making him exceptionally quick-witted. He instantly grasped exactly what Anok was implying. Realizing why this crucial task had been entrusted to him rather than Court Lady Cho, Han-wol nodded with fierce determination.

“I will uncover the truth quickly and without causing a single stir.”

“Thank you. I cannot afford to skip my medication, so I am counting on you.”

“Rest assured, Master Anok.”

Anok had originally intended to use Noble Consort Sa’s medicine to his own advantage, but now that the plan had spiraled out of control, he could not afford to suffer any more of its toxic side effects.

In his past life, because he had never learned how to hide a blade, he had been terrified of even harboring a sharp, defensive mind. As a result, he lacked the power he rightfully deserved and was stripped of everything he held dear.

If he was forced to repeat this life—this exhausting, wretched cycle—he would at least refuse to let his things be stolen while staring blindly.

He did not harbor grand dreams of absolute revenge. Anok knew his own fragile, weak-willed nature far too well to entertain such lofty ambitions. He simply wished to stop suffering helplessly, to stop being stripped of everything without a fight. In the end, he only wanted to be strong enough to protect the few precious things within his own small fence.

That was the solitary goal Anok carried with him into this second life.

With his eyes shining bright, Han-wol bowed and slipped out of the room. Once alone, Anok slowly pulled his frame from the bed and stepped onto the floorboards, the physical sensation beneath his bare feet remarkably sharp and clear.

With all the servants dismissed, the inner quarters were wonderfully peaceful. He slid open the semi-circular window, allowing the rich, serene scenery of late spring past midday to lazily fill his vision.

How many more times will I be permitted to gaze upon this view? Can I truly endure seven years here? If I somehow survive past that marker…… what terrifying obstacles will be waiting for me then?

The deep pessimism of his past life could not easily be rewritten into hope. To Anok, this repeating lifecycle still felt far more like a cruel punishment than a golden opportunity.

“How is your body feeling?”

The rich, low-frequency timbre winding past his ears was dangerously familiar. Was it because, including his past life, he had replayed this exact voice tens of thousands of times in his own mind?

Harboring the fleeting thought, Anok turned around.

Whenever Yeo Jae-won addressed Anok as his official bride, he consistently used formal, respectful honorifics—as if determined to uphold his original vow to treat him with absolute courtesy. The reality of their second marriage suddenly felt completely real.

“I am perfectly well.”

Anok strained to keep his tone as flat and unmodulated as possible. It was a simple task if he merely mimicked the indifferent cadence Yeo Jae-won had routinely deployed against him in his past life.

Yet, despite the cold response, Jae-won continued to close the distance between them. Anok instinctively attempted to step back. The man named Yeo Jae-won was intimately familiar, but this version of him—the one actively seeking his space—felt entirely foreign.

“Your fever has broken completely.”

Jae-won reached out, gently cupping Anok’s cheek for a fleeting second before letting his hand drop, murmuring the confirmation to himself. This gentle behavior felt more unfamiliar than anything else.

Anok’s brow furrowed slightly, but his gaze suddenly locked onto a faint, distinct bite mark scoring the thumb of Jae-won’s retreating hand. The sudden realization that his own teeth had carved that wound caused a wave of burning heat to flush straight to the tips of his ears.

Desperate to break the heavy silence with any other topic, Anok shifted his gaze, noting the pristine, formal court robes Jae-won was wearing.

“I was told you had transited to the imperial palace.”

“Today was the designated morning to offer formal greetings to His Imperial Majesty.”

“I offer my sincere apologies.”

“You were forced to endure a grueling wedding preparation under a harsh discipline dame before you could even recover from the exhaustion of your journey from the provinces. It is only natural that your system succumbed to illness.”

Anok was momentarily bewildered by the statement, but he quickly realized it was the clever cover story Jae-won had fabricated before the Emperor to explain his bride’s absence.

Did the Prince ever deploy such an excuse in my past life?

Regardless, rumors that the Grand Consort had been neglected on his wedding night would likely be circulating outside the estate walls by now. Or perhaps news that an imperial doctor had been summoned had spread instead? Having been awake for less than an hour, his mind felt entirely too dizzy to sort through the variables.

“Again.”

“……?”

“You are doing it again. Is biting your lip an unalterable habit?”

Lost in his anxious thoughts, Anok had unconsciously begun to torment his own lower lip once more. Jae-won didn’t merely point it out; reaching forward with his scarred hand, he gently cupped Anok’s chin and pulled his lower jaw down to break the bite.

“……My apologies.”

As Anok uttered the mechanical apology that had become just as much of a reflex as his nervous habits, Jae-won’s fine features twitched slightly.

Naturally dropping his gaze downward, Anok’s eyes caught the surface of Jae-won’s palms, which were marred by a scattering of small, fresh wounds. The crescent-shaped scabs looked precisely like marks left by fingernails—as if the Prince had clenched his fists with all his might to violently suppress an overwhelming impulse.

Because it was late spring on the absolute precipice of early summer, transiting beneath the open sky at midday caused a noticeable sheen of sweat to break across the skin.

Though he had confidently declared his mission to Anok before marching out of the Myeong estate, Han-wol now stood in the sprawling heart of the capital market, utterly at a loss for what to do next.

At the very least, he had kept his promise not to cause a scene. In the massive, bustling capital market—which was incomparably larger than anything back in the Baekya region—Han-wol was nothing more than an insignificant, common pedestrian. No one paid the slightest bit of attention to the small, slender servant.

Unfortunately, no one was willing to open their apothecary doors to a young boy wandering around with an unlabelled pouch of medicinal herbs, seeking answers.

“The capital truly is a ruthless place……”

Back home in Baekya, if he asked the local shops a question, the owners would at least listen even if they grumbled through it. Here in the capital, the moment he stepped inside a shop, he was instantly met with cold scoldings and thrown out into the street.

The temperature continued to climb, and beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. With zero results to show for his exhausting transit, Han-wol’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He sank down into the shade of a quiet alleyway just off the main market drag.

“Look at that one. That’s a fresh face around here. Anyone recognize him?”

“Doesn’t look like a common beggar.”

“What’s that he’s gripping so tight in his hands?”

By the time Han-wol registered that the rough, murmuring voices were directed entirely at him, it was already too late. A heavy shadow fell over his crouched frame, forcing him to look up.

“……Who are you?”

An instinctual alarm blared in Han-wol’s mind. Every market sector possessed a dangerous crowd like this—thugs who banded together to act like rulers over land that didn’t belong to them.

Extorting money through ridiculous ‘transit fees’ was their baseline play, and if a person was unfortunate enough to be caught completely unprotected, they could easily be snatched up and sold directly to the pleasure houses.

Desperate to communicate that he was entirely harmless and harbored zero intention of encroaching on their territory, Han-wol spoke in his softest, most submissive voice.

He knew that if thugs failed to extract coin, they might settle for merely terrifying a victim depending on their mood. But he had also heard plenty of horror stories where they beat a person half to death just for sport. Having endured countless floggings under Seol Ga-mook, Han-wol was reasonably resilient, but a violent beating was still the one thing in this world he feared and hated above all else.

Though he had been sweating profusely just moments before, his lower jaw began to tremble violently.

“Where exactly did a little rat like you crawl out from?”

“He’s no beggar. Looks more like a servant boy from a wealthy household.”

The three men who had instantly surrounded Han-wol exchanged sharp, mocking glances before breaking into harsh chuckles.

“Or maybe he’s an errand boy for a brothel? With a pretty little face like that, it’d certainly fit the bill.”

“A brothel? If he’s from around here, you think he crawled out of Yohwa-ru?”

“Yohwa-ru’s a fine establishment.”

Realizing they weren’t just looking down on him but were actively moving to humiliate and harass him, Han-wol tried to hide the medicinal pouch behind his back. But a rough, brutal hand instantly lunged forward, ripping it from his grasp.

“What’s this? It’s nothing but a bunch of dried-up, useless weeds. And here I thought it was something worth coin.”

“Are you completely blind? If it were coin, we would have heard it jingling, you absolute idiot.”

“Well, now my mood is completely ruined. We can’t just let him walk away scot-free after wasting our time.”

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