Chapter 2: A Way to Survive

“…Gasp!”

Wei Shiyoung jerked upward like a fish flopping on dry ground.

The surroundings were pitch-black, and he could see nothing.

Nor was he in any state of mind to look.

With trembling hands, he stroked the nape of his neck.

“Haah, haa…”

The shock of being struck by the blade was still vivid.

Since his carotid artery had been cleanly severed, surviving would have been impossible.

Could this place be the underworld, then?

Chills crept across his entire body.

Wei Shiyoung shuddered, entirely at a loss.

Even though it was a summer night, he felt a vicious cold.

“S-Summer. That’s right, isn’t it summer right now…?”

Only upon realizing the season did Shiyoung finally gather his senses.

It was a season that had not even passed the peak of midsummer.

It was a time of year when even high-ranking nobles cast aside their dignity for a moment and sought thin garments.

Yet had not the soldiers been wearing winter military uniforms?

The same went for Prince Jin.

He had even draped a thick-looking cloak over his shoulders.

It was by no means clothing meant to be worn in summer.

Gradually, his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.

Only now did he recognize that this was his familiar bedchamber.

Straining his trembling legs, Wei Shiyoung walked toward the window.

When he threw open the window, the night sky unfolded before him.

“Ha…”

The moment he saw the crescent moon, Wei Shiyoung collapsed where he stood.

“It was a dream.”

Only now did he understand what had happened.

He had had such a vivid dream that even after waking, he had been unable to shake himself free of it.

Even now, having realized it was all just a dream, an uneasy weight pressed upon his heart.

Shiyoung dragged his staggering feet back and sat on the edge of the bed.

His neck, which had not even been cut by a sword, stung sharply.

It felt as though Prince Jin and the soldiers might chase him down at any moment.

“Phew…”

Wei Shiyoung let out a long sigh.

Anyone else would have dismissed it as mere nonsense.

However lingering the discomfort, it would eventually have been forgotten.

But for Shiyoung, the circumstances were different.

Wei Shiyoung occasionally had precognitive dreams.

Not every dream foretold the future, but there were dreams that made his hairs stand on end upon waking.

Such dreams invariably became reality before long.

It might sound remarkable, but in truth, he had rarely benefited from these precognitive visions.

To begin with, Wei Shiyoung’s spiritual sensitivity was faint compared to his mother’s.

Most of his prophetic dreams were trivial matters, such as what he would eat the following day.

In all his life, he had experienced only two grand precognitive dreams.

The first was foreseeing a future where he was cornered on the battlefield, and the second was his marriage to Prince Wu.

Since he had failed to avoid either fate despite knowing the future, the dreams had proven utterly useless both times.

“What should I do…?”

Shiyoung buried his face between his knees.

In truth, changing the future was not entirely impossible.

Futures like tripping on the street or spilling a teacup were manageable.

Trivial events of that sort could be altered without much difficulty.

However, the more vivid the prophetic dream was, the harder it was to alter the future.

Having a lucid precognitive dream meant the future was carved in that much stone.

And Wei Shiyoung had never experienced a prophetic dream as vivid as this one.

‘Mother, Father. Yoo-sung, Yoo-ha…’

The faces of his beloved family surfaced in his mind.

He was anxious for his parents, but the thought of his young nieces and nephews made his heart ache to pieces.

At this hour, they would all be peacefully asleep, completely oblivious.

Perhaps that was a blessing.

What use was knowing the future if it could not be changed?

“No, I cannot allow this.”

Wei Shiyoung snapped his head up.

Lives hung in the balance.

He could not simply welcome death without even putting up a proper fight.

As the saying went, even if the heavens collapse, there is always a way out; if he searched diligently, he might find a means of survival.

Wei Shiyoung rose from the bed and sat before the desk.

When he lit a candle, faint candlelight flickered across the dim room.

Smoothing out a sheet of paper, Shiyoung took up a brush.

From the tip of the brush, the scenes from his dream flowed swiftly.

He needed to record as much as possible before his memories faded.

There was no telling what might serve as a clue to save his life.

‘A full moon hung in the sky. And the season was winter.’

Judging by the attire of Prince Jin and the soldiers, that much was certain.

Thinking carefully, the air had also felt freezing cold.

For the capital to be that cold, it had to be after the onset of winter.

He could not be certain whether it would be after this year’s onset of winter or another year’s.

Still, considering that the concubines dragged out alongside him showed no change in appearance, it was likely this year, or at the latest next year.

Wei Shiyoung squeezed his eyes shut, squeezing every drop of memory from his mind.

It was frustrating that he had been too panicked to inspect his surroundings thoroughly.

As he went through the wives and concubines he could recall one by one, his eyes flew open when his thoughts arrived at Zhang Meiang.

“Ah! Come to think of it… she was heavily pregnant.”

In the dream, it had been a detail he took for granted and overlooked.

Even though Zhang Mei-ang, who had conceived this spring, was not visibly showing yet.

But by winter, she would be full-term.

Indeed, his dream had shown him events that would unfold this coming winter.

The fact that it was this very winter felt daunting, but discovering the timeline was a relief in itself.

Riding the momentum, Shiyoung recalled the other concubines.

Cheon Yeo-rang weeping uncontrollably in terror, Lee Joo-ah half-fainted, and Gwak Hee-seo, dragged out last…

“…Hm?”

Shiyoung furrowed his brow slightly.

Prince Wu had six wives and concubines.

Zhang Meiang, the primary consort; himself, the secondary consort; and four concubines.

His teeth ground anew at the thought of that useless man keeping six consorts solely due to an overabundance of lust.

Soon, not only all six of them but their maternal clans as well would be slaughtered.

With hundreds, thousands of people set to die because of one man, how did Prince Wu intend to atone for such a sin?

Huffing with frustration, Wei Shiyoung traced back through his memories once more.

At any rate, six people including himself should have been dragged out, yet there were only five.

Hwa-wol, the concubine Prince Wu had recently taken in and currently favored above all, was missing.

“Did I fail to notice her…?”

Perhaps she had been dragged out last of all.

If she had been brought out after he was killed, it was only natural that he had not seen her.

Yet something felt off.

The absence of Hwa-wol bothered him even more than the soldiers swarming the Prince Wu estate.

The problem was that he could not fathom the reason behind it at all.

Clutching his head, Wei Shiyoung fretted in anguish all through the night.

***

The tumultuous night passed.

Even so, the sun rose without change, and a new day began.

Wei Shiyoung groomed himself, barely able to open his eyes.

Having slept hardly at all and with his mind in turmoil, he wanted nothing more than to remain in his quarters.

But because Zhang Meiang had summoned all the wives and concubines, he had no choice.

To ignore a summons from Zhang Meiang, of all people, was to court consequences he could not endure.

Complying obediently was by far the easier path.

“Haah…”

“Master Shiyoung, why such a heavy sigh from early morning? The earth might cave in.”

Yeon-ji, Wei Shiyoung’s personal servant, asked.

He shook his head slowly.

“It is nothing. I tossed and turned last night, so I am just a bit tired.”

“You, Master Shiyoung?”

Wei Shiyoung was someone who fell asleep the second his head touched the pillow.

Furthermore, his stamina was so great that he was usually brimming with energy even after staying up all night.

Wondering what on earth could have happened, Yeon-ji widened her eyes.

“Is there something troubling you?”

“No, trouble, what trouble…”

“Ah, could it be because of Hwa-wol?”

Startled, Shiyoung spun around to look at Yeon-ji.

It was impossible, yet it felt as if his thoughts had been read outright.

Taking his reaction as confirmation, Yeon-ji nodded knowingly.

“I knew it.”

“W-What?”

“Hwawol, that vulgar courtesan, keeps grating on your nerves, does she not? You let it slide graciously all this time, but you were truly upset after all, weren’t you?”

Shiyoung relaxed his tensed body.

While it was true he was troubled because of Hwa-wol, her reasoning was entirely off the mark.

“No, it is not that. Why would I waste time feeling upset over the past? And Yeon-ji, even if it is just the two of us, you should not speak ill of Hwa-wol. She is no longer a courtesan.”

“Even so. She stole the favor that rightly belongs to you, Master Shiyoung…”

Yeonji pouted her lips.

She seemed to pity her neglected master, but her concern was entirely misplaced.

“Favor, what favor! I have no desire for Prince Wu’s favor.”

Receiving the favor of a traitor would only lead to dying alongside him.

Though being slaughtered even without receiving his favor was the real problem.

As Wei Shiyoung fumed, Yeonji made a fuss.

“Do not say such things. It is only because he does not yet know the sweetness of your scent that he seeks other concubines. If only you have the chance to spend your heat together, surely…”

“Enough.”

If he listened to any more, he felt he might take his anger out on Yeon-ji.

Wei Shiyoung stood up swiftly and slipped into his shoes.

Since he could not ignore the summons anyway, his mind was set on getting it over with quickly.

Wei Shiyoung trudged toward the rear garden.

Because Prince Wu collected rare trees and ornamental stones, the estate of Prince Wu was as breathtaking as another world.

Yet Shiyoung felt not the slightest appreciation as he walked along the flower-strewn path.

The estate of Prince Wu was far too suffocating a place to indulge in mindless admiration.

He had always yearned to escape Prince Wu’s estate, but today, that longing was even stronger.

A garden that would turn to ruins come winter was nothing but futile vanity.

In the pavilion visible in the distance, women were sitting clustered together.

Perhaps everyone had gathered the moment they received word, for it seemed he was the last to arrive.

Shiyoung quickened his pace toward the pavilion.

“I’m sorry for being late.”

Though he offered his greeting, Zhang Meiang gave no response.

Instead, she snapped her head away with a disdainful snort.

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