Chapter 16

Mask

No matter how outstanding a system or how excellent a law may be, if it is not constantly watched over and maintained, it will inevitably rust and become useless.

The last work he had done together with his father before his collapse had long since become a dead letter like that.

“Do you know anything more about Geumjil or Geumju?”

At Yeon Sang-hyeon’s voice, which had grown somewhat cold, the mask craftsman bowed his head even lower.

“What more could someone like us possibly know, sir? All I have done is pick up rumors, so it would only trouble your ears.”

“I understand.”

Yeon Sang-hyeon nodded and rose from his seat.

At that, the mask craftsman hurriedly got up and tried to stop him.

“How can you simply leave like this? At least give us your honorable name, so that one day we may surely repay you…”

His wife also helped.

“No matter how ignorant we may be, we are not so shameless as to let our benefactor leave like this.”

The children, not knowing what was going on, joined in as well.

“My lord!”

“My lord!”

At the renewed chaos of this family, Yeon Sang-hyeon let out a sigh.

Then, in a corner of the room that had become a mess, he noticed a white mask carelessly shoved aside.

“Then I shall take that, at least.”

When he reached out, the mask was drawn into his hand.

At the wondrous sight, the mask craftsman and his wife’s eyes widened, while the children clapped.

“Let us say that settles all debts and grudges.”

The mask craftsman looked somewhat reluctant.

“…Actually, that mask was not made by me.”

Yeon Sang-hyeon nodded.

“I thought as much.”

That mask was completely different from the other masks scattered throughout the room.

“That mask is the posthumous work of my late father, but…”

“If it is a family heirloom, I will not take it.”

The mask craftsman hurriedly waved his hands.

“No, sir, that is not what I meant. I was merely curious why you particularly wanted that mask…”

It was a reasonable question in its own way.

The mask had no eye holes and no mouth hole.

Its surface had not been properly finished and was rough, and the paint also looked strongly as though it had been left incomplete.

No matter who looked at it, it seemed to be nothing more than an unfinished product or a work below standard.

“That mask was something my father, who went senile in his final years, worked on until the moment he breathed his last. He was not in his right mind, sir. That is why I simply left it like that in such a mess.”

The mask craftsman scratched his head.

“On top of that, not long ago, I heard from a mendicant monk that the mask was an ominous object, so I was just about to destroy it.”

Even at those words, Yeon Sang-hyeon slowly examined the mask in his hand and smiled.

“What meaning do you think your father gave to this mask?”

Held in Yeon Sang-hyeon’s hand, the mask reflected the candlelight with a sheen that made it look even more ominous.

The mask craftsman shuddered and shook his head.

“It is an object made by a madman. What thought could he have had?”

“Do you really think so?”

Yeon Sang-hyeon’s white teeth showed.

“Pardon? What do you mean…?”

“Did something happen before your father fell into madness?”

At that question, the couple’s eyes widened.

“How did you…? No, sir, that is not what matters.”

With a darkened expression, the mask craftsman spoke.

“The truth is, I had an elder brother. He had far more outstanding talent than I did. But one day, he was falsely accused of something absurd and was imprisoned.”

Yeon Sang-hyeon’s eyes narrowed.

“I heard that some people made a wager by comparing the value of precious items they owned, and one of them put forward one of my father’s masterpieces.”

“…And then?”

A sneer formed on the mask craftsman’s lips.

“I do not know. But someone must have lost, and the loser must have become angry.”

And so his elder brother had become the target of someone’s anger and died.

“From that day on, Father went to the government office every single day. Father…”

The mask craftsman’s voice gradually grew distant in Yeon Sang-hyeon’s ears.

Instead, the mask in his hand whispered and showed him a story.

Or perhaps The Ruler Of Darkness was reading the story contained within the mask.

In Yeon Sang-hyeon’s eyes, the sight of an old craftsman protesting at the front gate of the government office came into view.

At first, the government soldiers were merely annoyed.

But one day passed, then two, and there was no rest in the old craftsman’s steps.

From above, harsh orders came down to the soldiers.

Gradually, the soldiers guarding the front gate grew cruel.

As his voice trembled, his wife tightly held his hand.

“My father—my father was a craftsman who had made something of a name for himself, and at the time, he also had a connection with Luoyang’s inspector. So Father went to find that inspector.”

From his swollen eyes, tears streamed down.

“…It was the inspector who clearly knew my brother’s circumstances and had promised to release him as innocent.”

The children, pained by the sight of their father crying, approached and embraced him.

Holding the children, he continued speaking.

“But what came back was my brother’s cold corpse. He had been beaten so much with the rod that his lower body was crushed.”

His body began to tremble.

“I even heard that the one who personally carried out the punishment was that inspector.”

His wife handed him a cup of water.

He emptied the cup in one breath.

“…When I later learned the circumstances, it was simply unbelievable.”

He roughly wiped away the water that had half spilled down with his sleeve.

“They said a high-ranking imperial official who had come to Luoyang on a pleasure trip made a wager with a high-ranking official of Luoyang, with whom he had never been on good terms.”

Meanwhile, rumors about the old man who came to the government office every day and cried out in front of it gradually spread through the streets of Luoyang, and soon reached the inspector’s ears.

‘That wretched old man is trying to block my path!’

The old craftsman, who had lived his entire life with a clear conscience before heaven, shouted at the inspector.

“You are not even afraid of heaven! Heaven knows your sin, and the earth knows it too!”

The inspector had the old craftsman seized and subjected him to a terrible punishment.

The charge was that he had fabricated facts that did not exist and dared to damage the honor of an official.

Fortunately, the old craftsman survived and returned home, but afterward he fell into madness, and before long, he died from the aftereffects of the punishment.

“…That was how my father passed away.”

The father was crying, the mother was crying, and the children were crying as well.

Sang-hyeon tilted his head.

“And yet you still do not know the meaning contained in this mask?”

After thinking for a long while, the mask craftsman lowered his head and pleaded with Yeon Sang-hyeon.

“This work is practically my father’s keepsake, sir. Please grant instruction to this foolish man who cannot even understand that much.”

A low laugh leaked from Yeon Sang-hyeon’s lips.

That laughter gradually grew louder, filling the room.

It sounded like a sneer, and yet also like a sob.

The mask craftsman felt that laughter resembled the laughter his father had let out when he had gone mad.

That laughter that used to burst from the room like a seizure, like a scream.

Yeon Sang-hyeon saw it.

The inspector had beaten and shattered both of the old craftsman’s hands.

He had inflicted the cruelest punishment on a man who had spent his entire life making masks, ensuring that he would never be able to make another mask again.

The old craftsman, carried home on the backs of the neighborhood youths, went mad.

His hair was disheveled, and drool ran from his mouth.

He spat out incomprehensible words, smeared filth on the walls of his workshop, and even wandered through the neighborhood naked.

Then, one day, he shut himself inside his workshop.

He sang a mournful tune as he carved a mask.

It was only natural that the mask turned out crude.

In place of the two hands he had lost, he carved the mask with his toes.

His awkward knife work left both his feet covered in blood.

But he did not stop.

He drank the rainwater dripping through the holes in the ceiling, having long since cut himself off from grain and food.

What held the dying man to this world was rage, filled with hatred and pain toward the world.

And the moment the mask was completed, he died.

Thus, a ghostly object was born.

It was not that he had failed to carve out the eye holes.

He had chosen not to carve them.

After laughing for a long while, Sang-hyeon’s laughter subsided.

He opened his eyes and slowly looked around the room.

The room, sunk in pitch-black darkness, was no different from a ruin.

Every household item was smashed, and fresh blood was scattered across the floor.

The mask craftsman’s family, who had been there until moments ago, was nowhere to be seen.

That was only natural.

Yeon Sang-hyeon opened the dangling door and slowly walked out into the inner courtyard.

There lay the cold corpse of the wife, tightly embracing the children.

The blood that had flowed from their merciless deaths reflected the faint moonlight on the ground.

Yeon Sang-hyeon slowly approached and brushed aside the children’s hair, which had been frosted white.

All of the children’s mouths had been torn open, their tongues hanging long over their mother’s shoulder.

He laid the corpse of the mask craftsman he had carried on his back beside them.

From the very beginning, the man had already been beaten too severely and had died.

Yeon Sang-hyeon had arrived here by following his grief-stricken soul.

While he had been assaulted, his wife had been subjected to unspeakable cruelty, and when even the children rushed in to resist, the murderers had killed them in the heat of the moment.

The father, dead with his limbs twisted.

The mother, dead with blood spilled from below and her neck strangled.

The children, dead with their mouths torn open.

That family had died, and in death, they met again.

Yeon Sang-hyeon slowly put on the mask.

Then he looked up into the air.

Why had the old craftsman made a mask without even eye holes?

Yeon Sang-hyeon answered.

“…I cannot bear to keep my eyes open and look upon this world.”

Something glittering flowed down beneath the mask.

***

“Have you heard the name of a woman called Geumju, said to be Geumjil’s daughter?”

At Yeon Sang-hyeon’s words, Jeong-ah  searched her memories.

“…Come to think of it, I believe I read that name in my sister’s letter last time.”

Yeon Sang-hyeon slowly nodded.

“You said your sister is an information broker?”

“Yes, Master.”

Yeon Sang-hyeon closed the book he was holding.

“It must have been a long time since you last saw her.”

A lonely light entered Jeong-ah’s eyes.

“Yes, a very long time…”

Yeon Sang-hyeon smiled gently at her.

“Tomorrow, let us go meet your sister.”

Jeong-ah’s eyes widened.

“Truly?!”

“Yes.”

Jeong-ah’s face brightened completely, and she did not know what to do with herself.

“Even if we cannot stay overnight, we should be able to remain for about half a day, so speak with her to your heart’s content.”

“Thank you! Thank you!”

Yeon Sang-hyeon waved his hand at her as she repeatedly bowed, then took a small jar from within his robes.

“What is that?”

Without answering, Yeon Sang-hyeon opened the sealed lid of the jar.

Inside, an extremely modest amount of tea leaves was revealed.

Jeong-ah  examined them and said,

“…From what I can see, these are low-grade tea leaves without even a name. Their storage condition is also a mess.”

Yeon Sang-hyeon shook his head at Jeong-ah’s words.

“No. These tea leaves are very precious.”

“…Are they?”

The smile on his lips looked somehow sorrowful.

“They are a precious gift I received as payment for a grace I could not properly bestow…”

The two of them brewed and drank tea from tea leaves that were not even enough for one person.

For some reason, that tea was unusually warm.