Perplexed by the Prime Minister's suspicious actions, Sae Joo strode down and the left the terrace in an instant. Outside, his huddling retinues were about to convoy him, but they stopped when Sae Joo paused. His face painting another picture of mistrust to his uncle. He knew he was not ready to confront Jung Ho with all his might. What could he do? He was a juvenile. His state of being the next ruler of Silla was still a working process. Development of skills was the most vital thing that he should consider. All noise, complications, and perilous thoughts and clamors should be kept outside his shell. Someday, maybe in time, if he was ready, he could personally face Jung Ho and all his allies. For now, all he could do was ask for help and guidance. From whom? Jae Joong? Dae Wong?

At that moment, his answer was Dae Wong. If he could be as honest as possible, he would say that his trust for Dae Wong was a mile away from his father. He perceived Dae Wong as a teacher close to ideality. For him, he was like an excellent vocalist, able to adjust his tone and voice so fluidly. Dae Wong knew how to calibrate his teaching styles depending on the situation, depending on Sae Joo's mood. He could be as subtle as possible—soft, silky, velvety tone which could seduce and entice even the most grotesque beast. His mesmerizing voice could enthrall people's ears, hypnotized with everything he says.

He was also capable of transforming into a tough and rough monster. Loud, intimidating, bellowing prehistoric entity capable of shaking your entire body in fear. His voice could instill fear, not the actual fear but a godly-fear, perhaps it was respect. His voice was powerful to demand respect.

Most of the time, Dae Wong was the first scenario. Sometimes, if Sae Joo was a bit ill-tempered, Dae Wong was the second option.

The Prince went to the young minister's office, located in the Pavilion of Intelligence, beside the royal library. He ran into him before he could make it by the door. The minister seemed to be in a hurry.

"Minister Dae Wong, where are you going?"

"I have to see someone. His Majesty orders me... How can I help you, Prince Sae Joo?"

"Oh. I will just talk to you when you are back."

Dae Wong bowed his head and strode down, leaving the Prince hanging again in a bleak moment. He had no idea that the minister actually lied to him. He was going somewhere, yes. It was important, definitely. But the King was not aware. Jae Joong was also clueless, and it should remain that way.

The minister rode his horse and drifted off outside Seorabeol, to his house in Sangju—to Chil Yook. They had agreed to meet to give each other update, regarding their enemy, who was currently preparing for his trip. After almost four hours, Dae Wong reached the house. Same ambiance as before. Serene, solemn, silent, as if no one had resided it before. The color of the leaves remained ethereal, more vibrant than before. Green reflections mirrored on his slit eyes as he surveyed his plants that had gotten a little taller than before. The oak, the Firs, and some evergreen conifers. Guess plants have completely mastered the art of sucking... nutrients from the ground. The tall brick walls remained unassailable, despite having some line of cracks and small crevices—possible gateway of secrets.

He knocked thrice to the newly-varnished tall brown gate, and after a couple of minutes, it finally unbarred. Ah Moo welcomed him and bowed his head, "Lord Dae Wong, I am glad you had a safe trip."

"Thank you. Where is Muhyuk?"

"He just got here, Your Lordship. You were just a couple of minutes late."

Dae Wong strolled down the cobbled courtyard, stepped onto the porch, and slid the door. As it rustled, he saw Chil Yook and Deok Cheol sitting on the floor, having a conversation by a small table. Chil Yook shifted his head by the door. A sigh of relief had been unleashed as if it had been hidden for years.

"Thank Heavens, Lord Dae Wong—you are here."

"How are you, Muhyuk-ahjussi?"

Chil Yook requested Deok Cheol to exit for a while. Like a sweet myna, the rotund boy bowed his head and left. Dae Wong sat, his cyan robe rustling on the floor. Their faces complemented with each other. Both were tensed, itching to spill out news about their own errands. But Chil Yook seemed to be more agitated so he blurted out first. "We have a problem, Dae Wong."

He stood and walked shortly to a small table closet, opened one compartment, and picked his dusty chest—the one he had kept for a long time in his underground storage. He placed it on top of the table and opened it. (Creak!) His hands rummaged deep, only to get a worn-out, dusty blue baby cloth.

Dae Wong frowned, observing a familiar cloth, "Wait, is that..."

"Yes. This belongs to Prince Sae Yoo. Now, I am so thankful that this was still here when one of your nangdos gave this to me. But I am worried because my headband is missing. Maybe one of the Prime Minister's men has got it. We had searched, but we had found nothing from them."

"I see," Dae Wong mumbled, seemed to be disengaged with Chil Yook's story.

"Dae Wong, this is serious! If my headband is with the Prime Minister's hands right now, it will give him a stronger confirmation that indeed I lived in Myeongju, that I am still alive. Sooner or later, I am afraid that he might find us... find Shun."

The minister leaned forward, eyes blazing in determination, "Worry not. As long as we destroy all his leads, you are all safe. We need to make sure that his men are dead. We will use this as our delaying tactics for him. While he is in Myeongju, we think of more ways to distract him, to the point that finding Sae Yoo becomes less of his priority."

"I agree. But wait, you said that he is in Myeongju."

"He is planning to go to Myeongju to recruit some provincial hwarangs for Dokdo. I know that he will do a low-key investigation of what happened. You know what? The point of all of these is not to catch Jung Ho. Instead, this is to warn him... that not all days belong to him, that he should be careful as well because he is not the only one who is looking for you and Sae Yoo. We will shake Jung Ho," grinned Dae Wong.

"How sure are you that this is going to work? You will just provoke him. He will set his bars higher. Who knows—his plans could be more devious after this?"

Dae Wong seemed to be very confident about his principle (that pushing Jung Ho to his limits would apparently break him). Chil Yook was actually apprehensive, knowing the Prime Minister's character: the way he responds, the way he moves, the way he plans.

No one could actually tell who among them was right. Standing up against Jung Ho had always been a fight with a faceless person. You could not even know what he was thinking, what he was planning. Suddenly, you just realized that you have been defeated, knocked down.

That was before! Dae Wong firmly believed that for the past fifteen years, evolution had not been kind to Jung Ho. The Prime Minister's flaws and failures had been exposed gradually along the way. Suppose the Heavens had been merciful for him, for he was still the Head of Ceremony Rights, but the deities of time certainly did not have his favors. Jung Ho had become tainted, his gold did not remain lustrous and glimmering as always. He had stooped down a level being unpredictable, with a little amount of a laid-back character. Dae Wong did not see him as terrifying as before.

"That is why you need to leave everything to me. Our priority here is keeping Shun's identity a secret. Catching you would not guarantee Jung Ho that Shun is Sae Yoo," said Dae Wong.

"So, what do you mean?"

"I know what you mean. The moment Jung Ho reaches Myeongju and sees his dead men, he will start to think that someone from the palace is also looking for you. He might keep an eye on me, the King, or Prince Sae Joo. It will not matter because he will get nothing from us. He keeps on thinking, he gets paranoid, he gets disturbed. But one thing is for sure, as long as Shun does show anything that could doubt his identity, he will be safe."

"So what else are you trying to do?"

"Leave it to me. I know exactly what to do."

Chil Yook was insulted with Dae Wong's advice as if the young minister was always on the right path. He was really scared, not only with Jung Ho but to his allies as well. The probability of Dae Wong's theory might be close to what would really happen—that Jung Ho would be a bit shaken. But then again, it was just Jung Ho. What if—what if other people (could be Jung Ho's allies or not) discovered that something was incongruent with Shun's identity. The palace was big, but it was not that big. After all, some secrets might still transcend through its horizontal and vertical walls. By horizontal, he meant the literal walls. Strong, sturdy, tested by time, despite some visible cracks and inconspicuous fissures. By vertical, he meant the different factions inside the palace, forming the triangular pyramid of society. Silla's caste system. The impermeable, yet fragile wall. The Seonggols, the Jingols, and the others.

He could not help but yell in front of the minister, his fiendish face resurfacing once again, "You are so full of yourself! What am I here for, anyway?"

"Chil Yook, do not carry out that tone on me. I know exactly what I am doing. I have witnessed and observed Jung Ho for the past fifteen years—when you were not around. Between you and me, I know him better."

The sickly old man was dumbfounded. Sprinkles of embarrassment and flakes of realization, "Fine. You are always right. Just make sure that my son does not get hurt, or else, I will do everything I can to take him away... again—even if that spells selling my soul to the deities of death."

"This is getting childish and selfish. Trust me and do as I say. Now before I leave, I just wish to inform you that from now on, Shun will not go home regularly every month. We need to lower the chances of raising the doubts of people around. Starting today, we need to be more cautious, especially you and Shun."

"But..."

"Hush, Chil Yook. Endure it. This is for the better."

Dae Wong stood and walked his way to the door as if nothing happened. He strolled down the courtyard and exited through the gates. Ah Moo did not even had the chance to walk his master. A strong, striking aura encapsulated the whole body of the minister.

~~•~~

Jung Ho prepared all the things needed for his travel to the Myeongju province. He had kissed his daughter goodbye, and somehow... had given Jung Min a subtle body action to look after his sister. There were court ladies, palace servants, guards and hwarangs that could protect his beloved... yet, he still lay his trust to his son.

'Travel light,' the ancient proverbs said. Jung Ho chose not to flaunt too much extravagance on his journey. Just the right amount of what was necessary. Food, water, bedding, clothes all tucked inside his palanquin—not the big one, but a small one. Not the one he used when he had traveled to Tang, but the one he had used meeting people outside the palace. He had also plotted some reminders to his council members—Dae Wong was not around at the time he had done that so it was Jung Min who took over. Finally, to honor his ruler, he had a small meeting with Jae Joong before he left.

Everything was set.

The travel time—two days had passed unnoticed, for he had read a number of books on his way: mostly war and political tactics. His source of fighting the concept of boredom. His way to sharpen his rusting brains. Apart from that, he had also planned his next move. He was completely aware that his state of mind was not as sharp as before, so before another failure could smack him in the face again, he had already drafted in advance. Being an opportunist, he had laid out first his positive sides—his power, his advantages, and the people that were loyal to him. Then he identified the people whom he thought had the guts to contend with him. Their strengths, their weaknesses, and their allies.

With those vital sets of information, he had contemplated ways on how to manipulate them, how many cards he currently possesses, and what he could do more from his power. With all of the complicated, multi-layer, cobweb of thoughts: there was this thing that had constantly bugged him since he had read the letter: Do they know? Do Jae Joong and Dae Wong know about Sae Yoo?

The moment he arrived in Myeongju, no niceties and fabulous preparations welcomed him. As soon as he stepped down his palanquin, the faint ray of the sun pecked his white face. Sweet scents of the conifers, acorns hanging from the mother trees, figs dancing and swaying before him caught his attention, making him inhale deeply. Birds from the east flew in groups, honoring his arrival.

He wanted to make his visit brief. He headed straight to the office of the governor. The local hwarangs hailed him with short military stances though. The Myeongju governor (short, fat, old man with strands of gray hair, arranged in a small silver top knot) welcomed him and led him to his office.

Offering a green tea, the governor smiled and bowed before the Prime Minister, "My Lord, I am more than delighted to see you in our humble province."

"I just want to make it short and quick. I need you to deploy about a hundred of hwarangs to Dokdo Island. Security needs to be strengthened in that island of ours."

Evidently, the governor's face drained some of its colors. He seemed to be uneasy with Jung Ho's orders, "Uh, My Lordship, may I ask why... err, you chose our province?" a shaky grin after a question.

"Simple. Your province has plenty of hwarangs, second to Yangju," the steam from the hot tea traveled to his face, his eyes reflecting annoyance.

The old governor chortled, "Err, as you can see, Your Lordship, we have some problems in the northern part of the province, especially deep in the Taebaek Mountains. Our hwarangs there are just enough to address the bandit problems."

Jung Ho cleared his throat, "Are you implying insubordination? Well if yes, we could have you replaced in an instant," he smirked.

"Prime Minister," chuckled the governor, trying to lighten up the mood, trying to settle his slamming heart, "That is not what I meant. Uhm, sure I will do it. I will meet the hwarangdos right away."

"Good. Now, I have another concern. It has come to my attention from a concerned citizen that there was a commotion that had happened in that hill-top community in Taebaek. I wish to personally check that out."

"A commotion? I have not heard of that, Your Lordship. But anyway, I will take you there."

"What a lame excuse. How could you not know that? Are you really doing your job properly?"

Humiliated with the Prime Minister's swords of words, the governor did nothing but to drop his head in a bow. He felt like he could disappear, that anytime soon, the marble floor would open wide and suck him into the depths of embarrassment.

"Well, no time to reprimand you. Just assign some hwarangs to take me there. I need you to deploy hwarangs tomorrow morning, all one hundred and make sure that they all go to Dokdo. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Lordship," mumbled the governor.

~~•~~

After another two hours of travel time, Jung Ho finally witnessed the enthralling view of the hill-top community where Shun grew up. The natural landscape was definitely eye-captivating. Green color dominated the entire location. The trees and shrubs were as lively as the performing courtesans in the palace. Not only them but the families of grass—the mere runners, usually insignificant, swayed elegantly as the cool, soothing wind blew. The icy sensation of the thin air brought him back to his winter memories, back when he was younger—when his mom would cook a delicious kimchi stew and together, they would place their hands near the fireplace, feeling the warmth of the blazing furnace.

On a superficial level, the community was almost impeccable. However, as Jung Ho strolled more, he noticed that it was actually a cold, bleak, cursed desert. It almost became like a ghost town. Spine-tingling, bone-chilling, disturbingly silent. A few commoners walked past him, carrying sacks of seeds or lumbers. The people peered at them as if it was their first time seeing a group of hwarangs—Jung Ho's platoon of security.

He asked an old man along his way, "Uh, ahjussi, do you know a person named Muhyuk here?" As he questioned, the poor man's face furrowed in displeasure, "Why are you looking for him? Are you one of them?"

Pretending to be curious, Jung Ho's eyebrows assembled, "What do you mean, 'are you one of them?'"

"I was just being careful. Well, for your information, that house by the brae—with an extra room for fireplace and a backyard—formerly belongs to Muhyuk. He does not live there anymore. I have to go," the man continued walking, and Jung Ho went to the house in the man's description.

Observing the abandoned house, he noticed that its doors were chained, locked. He stepped on the porch and walked by the door. There was another gust of cold wind. Suddenly, his nose curled, smelling a rancid, rotting smell. "What is that?"

"My Lord, I think that stench is coming from the inside," a hwarang put in.

Covering his nose, he ordered some local hwarangs to destroy the chain. Two hwarangs smashed the chains for a couple of times with their swords, unlocking the door (Clank!). They pushed the door, and Jung Ho entered.

To his horror, he witnessed three dead men on the floor, their fleshes almost rotting, maggots and worms writhing on their wounds, body soaked in coagulated blood.

Those were his men.

__________