Silence reigns over an old temple by the ruined palace
A tall tree in the setting sun makes an onlooker sad.
Chilly fog spreads – the lingering dreams of monks
On the broken pagoda, time-stacked layers of dust.
Where a royal bird would soar, nameless birds fly
Where azaleas bloom no more, sheep and cattle graze.
The overlooking mountain may recall pomp and glory
Did it know that spring would quickly turn to autumn.
– Hwang Jini near the end of her career

Ga Eul cradled the mug of hot chocolate Yi Jeong had prepared for her in an attempt to calm her; she was shaken by the vision she'd had and by the fall she'd taken but otherwise intact. He'd wanted to take her to the hospital, certain that she'd received a nasty bump on the head if she'd had another hallucination. Yi Jeong had also said the ghostly figure they'd seen must have been a trick of the light.

Perhaps he was right that she'd bumped her head when she'd fallen down—maybe she'd momentarily blacked out—but then how had she known what the painting she'd landed on looked like? She'd seen the painting in her dream. And why didn't her head hurt if she'd hit it so hard?

No, she remembered seeing the painting right after she fell—landing on her stomach, but thankfully, catching herself on her arms. The lone basement light that had been on at the time had illuminated the hand scroll that unrolled itself when it fell to the floor. Her right hand had landed on top of the scroll, holding it open, and then that strange, chilly sensation, like wind spiraling all around her, had begun again, and she'd been thrust into darkness, then into another world.

She couldn't explain it.

At least Yi Jeong had turned on the rest of the basement lights, and now that she could see all the various objects piled down there—posters from past exhibitions, various artworks, and a huge collection of brown storage boxes—she felt mildly better and more grounded in reality. The hot chocolate soothed her as it warmed her hands and throat.

In the corner of her vision, Yi Jeong picked up the hand scroll she had discovered in the basement and examined it closely with a frown on his face. The unframed painting was in the same style as the one she'd been defending previously—that tender yet melancholy depiction of a woman standing on a hill, looking out at her lover sailing away across a lake. Perhaps he was wondering why the museum had salvaged—not one, but two!— such inferior artworks.

Well, Ga Eul thought they were beautiful and heartbreaking, and now that she had discovered the second one, she was far too curious to confirm if they were a match. To see if their torn edges aligned. The painting upstairs had been ripped on its right side; curiously, the painting Yi Jeong held had been ripped on its left side. Both paintings looked like complete scenes by themselves—one was somber in tone, while the other one was hopeful—but perhaps they had been part of a panel that told a story. Her mind had seemed to think so, anyway, when she'd envisioned the farmer's daughter holding a single scroll with the paintings joined together.

"Sunbae...do you think...we should check if the two paintings go together?" Ga Eul asked, grazing her thumb over the rim of her mug. "Sunbae?" she asked again when Yi Jeong didn't answer right away. As he stared at the painting, his expression transformed from studious to...to...It was almost as if he were in pain. Were those...tears in his eyes?

"Sunbae?" she asked, softening her voice. "Sunbae?"

Sorrow consumed Yi Jeong, though the painting he held in his hands depicted a lovely, serene scene. But it was a scene never to be repeated. His love—the woman who, with her unskilled hands, had so lovingly painted the two of them standing together in their meeting place on the hill overlooking the lake—would never return. She had died, his personal guard had informed him. Once he'd gotten past his initial rage and shock at her betrayal, the prince had realized something was amiss. Despite the lies his father had so cunningly planted in his mind, he could not imagine that his love would ever abandon him. Thus, he'd had the matter investigated secretly and had found she'd been killed by a woman who'd wanted to marry him, someone his father had urged him to marry because she came from a prominent family.

He'd wanted to give his love the world; he'd wanted to protect her, and he had failed.

As he sat in his personal library, studying the torn painting, tears pricked his eyes. His blue silk hanbok patterned with four-toed dragon emblems—a symbol of his wealth and status as the crown prince—felt like a weight around his shoulders. He would have given it all up for her.

Overcome with grief, he couldn't hold the painting up anymore and set it down on his desk. He wasn't sure he could ever look at it again and not feel overwhelming guilt.

And so, he would give up everything for her—all of his material possessions.

He would not take the throne.

He would never love another. Rather, he would become a monk and live out the rest of his days with her sweet voice always in the back of his mind, calling him...calling him...

Sunbae...Sunbae…

"Sunbae?" A shake to his shoulder snapped Yi Jeong out of his trance, and he stumbled back, nearly dropping the painting.

"What?" Yi Jeong jerked his head up to look at Ga Eul, and a tear sprung from his eye and rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

"Sunbae, what's wrong?" Ga Eul's eyes widened in alarm. She stood next to him, her mug of hot chocolate forgotten on the table where the coffee maker sat.

"Ah, nothing. It's nothing. I just…" Yi Jeong glanced at the painting again, furrowing his brows. The faded image of the hanbok-clad man and woman holding hands underneath a cherry tree was an amateurish piece, like the painting Ga Eul had fretted over upstairs, but something about it haunted him. "The painting, it's—"

"You felt like you were there, didn't you?" Ga Eul asked gently.

"What?" Yi Jeong had been going to say that the painting was another odd choice for the museum, lacking in skill as it was, for surely he couldn't have been where he thought he had been—in a prince's library during the Joseon dynasty. He'd gotten lost in thought; that was all.

"You felt like you were in the painting, right?" Ga Eul continued. "That's what happened to me earlier when I fell. I even saw...it was like my mind created a whole story around the couple in the painting...And before that, when I was looking at the painting upstairs, suddenly I felt like I was the woman standing on the hill overlooking the lake. I could feel the cold wind. I could see the sunlight on the water. It was like I was inside the painting. Did that happen to you?"

Disturbed by her words, Yi Jeong shook his head, deciding to answer truthfully.

"No," he answered.

"No?" Ga Eul frowned.

"I wasn't in the painting. I was looking at the painting. But not now. In the past. I was sitting in a prince's library, and I felt so sad."

Ga Eul gasped, and Yi Jeong glanced at her face. Her eyes were lit with emotion.

"I felt sad too! And hopeless. Like I'd lost someone I loved very much, and I knew I would never have the chance to be with them again." As she said this, her voice trembled with urgency, and she never broke eye contact with Yi Jeong. He hadn't realized they were standing so close to each other until that moment—he wasn't even an arm's width from her.

"Me too," he managed hoarsely. The anguish he'd experienced during the vision lingered like a phantom, but it was slowly being replaced by relief. Relief that he still had a chance with Ga Eul. He must have one. She was standing right there beside him. He set the painting down on a nearby box, dismissing the vision. If only he reached out and…

The overhead lights flickered, then stilled.

Yi Jeong glanced up at the ceiling, frowning.

The lights flickered again. Perhaps from the storm?

Not from Woo Bin, certainly. He could turn the lights off. He couldn't make them flicker like that.

As Yi Jeong watched, the lights grew dimmer and dimmer until they switched off completely with a pop! and a spark, the sizzling hum of electricity lingering for a few seconds.

Then, silence.

Yi Jeong felt a tug on his suit jacket and saw Ga Eul clutching the fabric at his waist in the eerie glow of the emergency lights.

Then the emergency lights went out, plunging them into utter darkness.

Ga Eul threw her arms around his waist, clutching onto him for comfort for the second time that evening. He couldn't say that he minded feeling her soft, warm body against his, but...

"Sunbae...why are the emergency lights out?! I thought you said those run on battery!" Ga Eul asked, giving voice to his own concerns.

"Maybe it's...from the storm?" Yi Jeong ventured, but he knew that didn't make sense even as he said it. He tightened his arm around Ga Eul.

Woo Bin might have sent a woman dressed as a virgin ghost to frighten them—Yi Jeong had tried to catch her at first but had rushed back when he'd heard Ga Eul fall—but there was no way that Woo Bin could—or would—cut the emergency lights off. There was something not right here. He wasn't particularly ruled by gut feelings, but he could feel it. And Ga Eul was really scared; she had him locked in a death grip, and he couldn't find much delight in holding her when he could hear the fear in her voice. Maybe he should abandon his plans for the evening and simply get her out of the museum. He also wasn't convinced that she hadn't injured herself when she'd fallen, despite her insistence that she hadn't hit her head.

"Come on. I'll lead us out of the building. You know I know this place like the back of my hand, right? I can find my way in the dark," he assured her.

Ga Eul said nothing for a long moment, but slowly she let go of him.

"Don't let go of my hand," he instructed, grabbing her hand while he still had a good sense of her location.

"Okay," Ga Eul whispered. "I'll take the scroll with us."

"Honestly, is that what's important right now?" Yi Jeong asked, hearing the rustle of the paper scroll as she took it from atop the cardboard box.

"We can't just leave it here after you had that vision. I think it goes with the framed scroll upstairs. Whoever owned it must have lost their true love," she concluded sorrowfully.

Yi Jeong sighed, thinking it was so like Ga Eul to worry about something so silly at such a time.

"All right, all right," he said. "Let's go."

Reaching out in front of him to make sure he didn't run into anything, Yi Jeong tugged Ga Eul in the direction of the basement door, carefully guiding her around boxes and displays.

He regretted bringing Ga Eul to the basement now. There were windows on the main floors of the museum, of course, but in the basement and the lower level underground displays, the only light sources were electricity and the battery-operated emergency lights. Consequently, they would be in total darkness as they traveled the initial path to the outside.

When Yi Jeong felt the cool metal of a doorknob under his fingertips, he sighed with relief that they'd reached the basement door. Opening the door, he guided Ga Eul through it into the hallway beyond and shut the door behind them. Now that they had emerged into a more open space, Yi Jeong picked up speed as he tugged Ga Eul along. They had started off holding hands like they were shaking hands for a business deal, but somewhere in the darkness of the basement, Ga Eul had threaded her fingers through his, and the heightened contact felt intimate, though Ga Eul probably didn't mean it that way. She was probably just scared out of her wits and wanted reassurance.

Either way, it was nice to hold her hand like he was her boyfriend.

Though that was probably not what he should be focusing on at the moment.

Yi Jeong approached the door leading out to the lower level exhibits and turned the knob. The door swung open, and he led Ga Eul through that one too. Then they were back in a place with plenty of items to run into and ways to get lost, and Yi Jeong admonished himself to concentrate.

He visualized the layout of the exhibits in his mind: one larger clothing exhibit that led into two smaller side-by-side exhibits of jewelry and pottery from the Joseon era. They would have to go through the clothing exhibit to reach the other two exhibits. Next would be the stairs, then a hallway to the left, then a set of double doors, then a right turn, then more stairs, then a door, then the main floor...and light.

"Let's go this way," Yi Jeong said, pulling Ga Eul further into the clothing exhibit. He wound them around the displays in the center of the exhibit with practiced steps, confident he knew where each display was located on the floor but disturbed by the darkness enveloping everything nonetheless. He could only imagine how unsettled Ga Eul must feel, knowing nothing of the place.

Suddenly, Ga Eul shrieked, as if to confirm how unsettled she was.

"What is it? What is it?" Yi Jeong cried in alarm.

"Th-th-there's a person there! I felt their clothes!"

"Oh." Yi Jeong sighed in relief. "It's okay. It's okay." Yi Jeong patted her hand reassuringly. "We're in the traditional clothing exhibit. It's a display." Of course, she would brush against the only display not contained in a glass case—an elaborate costume from a popular drama that had been loaned to the museum.

Ga Eul took a few harsh, erratic breaths, but she finally answered, "Oh." Her voice wavered over the syllable.

"Here." Yi Jeong placed his hand on the small of her back and gently guided her to the left of the display. "Let's go this way. We're almost to the main part of the museum. We just have to get out of the exhibits on this level and go up some stairs. Once we get there, we'll have light from the windows." And he wouldn't have to skirt around the displays from memory. Unfortunately, that also meant he wouldn't have an excuse to hold Ga Eul's hand.

As they came upon what should have been the opening in the wall leading from the traditional clothing exhibit into the jewelry exhibit, Yi Jeong's fingers brushed against what felt like hemp cloth; then his whole hand pressed into a panel of clothing. He withdrew his hand.

Wait. That wasn't right. There shouldn't have been a display there. There should have been an opening into the smaller exhibit. Yi Jeong felt his way slightly to the right and slightly to the left, but he didn't feel air. He didn't even feel the wall. Just cloth and more cloth.

"Sunbae? Is something wrong?" Ga Eul asked in a concerned tone.

"Nothing. I just...I went the wrong way. The exit's over here." He guided her to the opposite end of the exhibit room towards the second opening, which led into the pottery exhibit. Reaching out his hand, he felt for certain that they were heading in the right direction. A small, rectangular glass case, then a plaque, and then…

Fabric. His nose brushed against it. He stepped back, jerking Ga Eul back with him and guiding her to stand behind him.

An ominous feeling settled over him, twisting his gut. Suddenly, the air in the room seemed thicker; it pricked at his skin, making his hairs stand on end.

That wasn't right. That...cloth shouldn't be there. He knew where everything in the exhibit was; he could picture the location of every item in his mind.

"Sunbae, what's going on?" Ga Eul whispered, and he tried not to let his internal panic creep into his voice.

"Ah, sorry. I startled you, didn't I? It's okay. I just didn't want you to run into the wall." Yi Jeong forced out a laugh. "It's much harder navigating this room in the dark. I'm just going to walk closer to the wall so I can touch everything until we reach the exit."

"Ah...I see." Ga Eul squeezed his hand, and he tried to take comfort in her presence though the darkness seemed to be closing in on them, a cavernous mouth.

But really, his panic was ridiculous. He knew the way out. He was So Yi Jeong, and this was his museum.

Right.

Yi Jeong led Ga Eul a few steps to the right and felt around until he came to a plaque and then a large glass display case that he believed—no, he knew—held ancient wedding attire. He dragged his fingers along the glass—probably leaving unsightly smudges—as he made his way back around the circular exhibit space. He paced the room slowly, ticking off each item in his head as his fingers touched the cases, reciting the time periods and historical facts that should be listed on the plaques. Finally, he reached one of the exits again, but for the third time, he felt cloth that shouldn't have been there.

Had they blocked one of the exits off, and he hadn't noticed earlier because he was too preoccupied with Ga Eul? Had they put up a new display that he didn't know about?

Both of those scenarios were unlikely, but they were the only scenarios that made sense. Saying nothing to Ga Eul, Yi Jeong continued around the exhibit, passing by the door that led to the hall that led to the basement, then checking off more items until he'd completed a full lap around the room and had circled back to where he'd started.

The wedding attire.

And next to the wedding attire...cloth.

No exit. How was that possible?!

"Alone," a soft voice sang, drifting over the room, and a chill ran down Yi Jeong's spine. Was someone messing with the loudspeakers again?

Abruptly, the emergency lights switched back on, but this was no comfort. For standing—no, hovering!—in the center of the room above the headless mannequin draped in the blue and pink drama costume was a pale, nearly translucent woman in a flowing white hanbok. A bluish glow surrounded her as she hung in the air, suspended by invisible strings, her skirts billowing out around her as though she might swallow someone up in them. Though Yi Jeong held his ground, he couldn't help but take a step back, pushing Ga Eul behind him once more as it dawned on him that it must have been the ghost's clothing he'd encountered whenever he'd tried to leave the exhibit.

She was a ghost, wasn't she?! A real ghost!

Suddenly, it all made terrible sense. The lights...the noise...the woman he'd chased after...There was no way...Woo Bin wouldn't…He couldn't...

Yi Jeong paled with fright. He hadn't believed in ghosts since he was a child, but then, he hadn't wanted to believe in love either, and love had found him anyway.

It seemed now that ghosts had too.

"Hey, you!" He spoke with authority to cover up his terror. "This is my family's museum. What do you want?"

A/N: This chapter was written by JodiMarie2910.

The next update will be on November 18th.