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Join the ServerHaeryeong lifted his head at Gangcheon’s lament.
His wet eyes, having no time to dry, filled with moisture until they overflowed.
Looking into those eyes, Gangcheon felt he did not even need to hear an answer.
It was because he could see that the Empress’s gaze was brimming with worry for him.
Gangcheon felt profoundly satisfied in that moment.
‘This is enough,’ he thought.
In a life where he could trust no one, at least one person who would remain unchanged until the very end remained by his side.
Lately, Gangcheon had been quite somber, realizing he truly lacked an eye for judging people.
To others, he might have appeared merely irritated, but as always, it was nothing more than a bluff to avoid looking weak.
Since childhood, Gangcheon had lived a life where he could only survive by pretending to be strong.
It was the same in the Imperial Palace as it was on the battlefield.
Gangcheon was surrounded by nothing but people holding blades toward him.
Thus, he always had to act as though he felt no pain when he was hurting, and as though he possessed everything even when he had nothing; that was the only way to survive.
Pretending to be strong always worked.
He would intimidate them, and if that failed, he would simply kill them.
Yet, Haeryeong was the one person upon whom none of his tactics worked.
Despite not being particularly fearless, he never buckled when it came to what he believed was right.
Moreover, whenever Gangcheon tried to act strong, Haeryeong would only grow more unyielding.
It wasn’t that Gangcheon had never wanted to kill him, but the man was an opponent he could not simply strike down at will.
He was a person over whom nothing went according to plan.
It was the same even now.
Despite all the Emperor’s coaxing and soothing failing to move him, and despite his claims that he would not believe him even if he were innocent, why was he so worried?
Why did he fret over a man he claimed to hate unto death?
He was a truly strange individual.
Yet, because he was that kind of person, Gangcheon found him even more trustworthy.
How could he not trust a man who looked at him with eyes so full of concern?
Therefore, he thought it hadn’t been such a bad life.
Even if he died, this man would weep for him.
However, his only regret was that he had failed to earn the man’s trust until the very end.
And that he had failed to leave him an Imperial heir.
Having a prince would have been better for the Empress to solidify his position.
Above all, he regretted that he would never see the man cradling and cooing over his own child.
Gangcheon let out a short laugh, briefly imagining a future where he was with the man as he held their child.
He had dreamt a dream that would never come true, if only for a fleeting moment.
Humans were truly foolish creatures.
To dream such a futile dream even on the brink of death.
While Gangcheon quietly reflected on his life, Haeryeong let out a damp sigh.
He gripped the dragon robe with the same hand he had used to pound on the man’s chest.
“How can you even say such a thing?”
“Just why are you doing this to me, Your Majesty?”
“Just how much more must you wound me before you are finally satisfied?”
Seeing him weep as if truly wronged made Gangcheon’s heart ache with a sharp sting.
‘Or is it because of the poison?’
It felt that way, seeing as his stomach was churning with pain.
It was a pity.
It seemed his time to hold and soothe the weeping man was even shorter than he had anticipated.
Gangcheon took the man’s hand and pressed his lips against the fisted fingers.
“I never intended to give you a wound, yet why is it that you are hurt every single time?”
Gangcheon stopped speaking as a sharp, twisting pain tore through his vitals.
Blood soon surged up, but Gangcheon swallowed it back down as if it were nothing.
But when he parted his lips to speak again, a much larger amount of blood than before welled up and spilled over.
“Your Majesty!”
As Gangcheon vomited blood, Haeryeong let out a scream.
Gangcheon held him firmly as the man twisted his body, appearing as though he might flee his embrace.
He whispered the last of the words he wanted to say.
“I find that I have nothing left that I wish to give you, except for my affection.”
Whatever else might have been there before, only that remained now.
Even he did not know when it had become this way.
He simply assumed it began when he first felt the urge to give the man something.
Perhaps it was from the moment the man began to flicker in his mind even when they weren’t together, or from the moment he could not tear his eyes away.
There were far too many such moments to count.
When he thought the man looked cute while weeping in a drunken stupor, when he burst into laughter at the dejected look in those eyes, or when the man tried to comfort him while he feigned melancholy over his mother—thinking back now, he felt those were all the moments he had been falling for him.
It was the same when the man would glare at him and laugh, or when he would walk on eggshells while apologizing.
When had the things he once deemed stifling become so lovely?
When had he started smiling just from looking at the man?
He must have been feeling something for him since then.
It was a shame he realized it was love far too late, but looking at it positively, was it not a relief to have realized it at all?
Gangcheon clasped both of the man’s hands and rested his forehead against them, whispering.
“You likely will not believe me, but I have loved you.”
He wanted to kiss him.
But every time he opened his mouth, blood surged up.
Since it would be like this until he closed his eyes, he did not want to show any more of it to the man.
How could he keep showing the sight of himself vomiting lumps of blood to a person so fearful he was even scared of thunder?
Gangcheon slowly backed away from him.
He felt as though he could not let go of the hands he held, but the strength drained from him automatically when he saw those white hands stained with his own blood.
With both hands hanging limp, Gangcheon offered his final farewell.
“Please, do not forget.”
“If I am gone, you shall be the leader of this nation.”
Just then, Seok-hwan burst through the door as if to break it down, with the Imperial Physician tucked under his arm.
Gangcheon addressed him sternly.
“Seok-hwan. Protect the Empress’s safety from now on.”
“Even if I am gone, regard that person as the nation itself, and protect him in my stead.”
Gangcheon bared his teeth in a grin as he saw Seok-hwan’s face—a face he thought would remain indifferent forever—distort with emotion.
“It is a request from a friend, so you must fulfill it.”
As Gangcheon vomited blood once more, Seok-hwan replied in a voice that had sunk deep with emotion.
“I shall attend to His Highness until Your Majesty has recovered your health.”
“Then it is settled.”
Haeryeong approached and began to lecture the satisfied, nodding Gangcheon.
“What do you mean ‘settled’? I shall never let that happen.”
Gangcheon laughed heartily, his eyes curving.
‘In any case, he certainly is stubborn.’
His vision was growing increasingly dim, making Haeryeong’s expression blurry.
But he felt he knew the look without even seeing it.
‘He is getting angry again.’
‘How can he be so consistent until the very end?’
Even as his eyes flickered shut, a laugh escaped him involuntarily.
Haeryeong had stopped his weeping and was now glaring at the Emperor with a stiffly set expression.
He immediately began to explain the Emperor’s condition to the physician.
“His Majesty has ingested Chilyeopcho.”
“How long has it been since he took the poison?”
“It has not even been fifteen minutes.”
The startled physician frantically searched for water and salt.
The moment Iryeon and the Chief Eunuch brought the water and salt as Seok-hwan had instructed before leaving, the physician poured a whole doe of salt into a bucket of water.
“What do you intend to do?”
The Emperor asked the physician coldly.
With his eyes narrowed as he vomited blood, he looked like a true yaksha.
Stirring the saltwater, the physician replied to Seok-hwan and Haeryeong.
“I shall dilute the poison with saltwater and then induce vomiting.”
“We cannot neutralize the poison that has already been absorbed… but we can prevent more from entering the system.”
Hearing those words, Haeryeong whispered toward the empty air.
“Han Su-yong. Along with Captain Yoon, take hold of His Majesty’s arms.”
Su-yong appeared suddenly behind the Emperor.
Seok-hwan also approached the Emperor and grabbed his arm.
The Emperor seemed to resist for a moment, but he quickly went limp, perhaps due to the poison spreading through his system.
Indeed, he had already vomited nearly a basin’s worth of blood.
The blood fell so endlessly that his mouth looked not like a human orifice, but a cave from which a crimson waterfall was pouring out.
His chest was entirely stained with blood, and a small puddle of the Emperor’s blood formed on the floor of the Empress’s Palace.
Once the Emperor went limp, the physician began the treatment with the help of the Chief Eunuch.
Haeryeong watched intently as the physician poured buckets of saltwater into the unconscious Emperor.
His fingertips trembled, and he felt as though he might faint.
The stench of blood was overpowering, and his mind grew hazy.
However, Haeryeong clenched his fists and endured.
The Emperor’s words were right.
If the man could not keep his senses, then Haeryeong had to remain sharp.
Moreover, since he himself was a cause of this situation, Haeryeong felt a duty to witness it until the very end.
Yet, Haeryeong truly wanted to ask the Emperor: what on earth did he expect to gain by doing this?
To claim he loved him.
Who in this world drinks a basin of poison in front of the person they love, simply because they aren’t believed?
‘Just what is going on inside that man’s head?’
He felt angry, yet he was also terrified.
What if something truly happened to the Emperor?
Haeryeong had never once thought of wanting to kill someone.
Even if that person was the Emperor.
His legs were shaking just from witnessing this; just how could the Emperor, or the traitorous Yun Hyeon-pyeong, be so desperate to kill one another?
These were hearts Haeryeong could not comprehend at all.
Half the water the physician poured simply flowed away, drenching the Emperor’s clothes and the floor.
Every time the Emperor thrashed in agony, Haeryeong felt a groan threating to burst from his own lips.
The Emperor looked as though he were being subjected to water torture.
After forcing the Saltwater into the painfully heaving Emperor, the physician induced him to vomit it all back up.
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