Disclaimer: The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of Sungkyunkwan Scandal.

Technical Notes: According to Wikipedia, a sangmin is someone of the servant class.

Chapter Sixteen, Part One

While Jae-shin took the day off to recover from his stint as the false Blue Messenger, the police continued to patrol the locality around the spot where the real Messenger had fallen.

Naturally, their search proved fruitless since she was no longer in the area where they were looking, so the next day, it was with empty hands and somber faces that Jae-shin, In-soo, Sergeant Ho and the rest of their team went to deliver their report to a delegation of Ministry higher-ups, including General Baek, the Minister of War.

Jae-shin began the proceedings by outlining their investigation into the Blue Messenger's identity. "Working with Sungkyunkwan University experts," he reported, "we managed to deduce that the Blue Messenger was a woman who had attained some level of education; however, samples of her writing did not match any of the Sungkyunkwan scholars, man or woman. If I may," he added, "I never really thought that the Blue Messenger was a scholar. The quality of the writing was never consistent with what is taught at Sungkyunkwan."

"You just had to mention that, didn't you?" his partner murmured behind him.

He ignored that and pressed on. "We believe that it was reasonable to conclude that if the Blue Messenger wasn't a Sungkyunkwan scholar, then she was probably a common-born city-dweller, someone who had access to information but had no political connections with which to make herself heard. We consulted numerous sources in the city, but unfortunately we were unable to narrow our search, let alone single out one suspect."

At that point, In-soo took up the telling of the tale. "When we proved unable to positively identify anyone as being the Blue Messenger, we concocted a plan to draw her out, make her come to us. This meant sending out a false Blue Messenger who would wreak havoc among the people, forcing her to confront the impostor in order to try and salvage her reputation.

"Of course," he added when Jae-shin cleared his throat discreetly, "we also saw to it that the impostor's victims were compensated for the damage to their property. We managed to get money to them in various ways, but in some instances we simply handed it over while on patrol. Personally, I thought it was a good way of improving public perceptions of the police."

General Baek raised an eyebrow in mild approval. "Very clever."

"Thank you, sir." In-soo inclined his head, accepting the compliment from the man who had taken his father's position, and gestured for Sergeant Ho to continue.

The older man cleared his throat nervously and stood so straight that Jae-shin believed he might tip over. "In one of his messages, the impostor indicated that he was going to attack the Yongsan area," he said. "Just as we had hoped, the real Messenger showed up and the two had a confrontation. Detective Ha here managed to shoot the real Messenger, but she jumped into the Han before we could apprehend her. Our false Messenger gave chase, but was unable to catch the suspect. He, too, had been injured during the events of that night and was not at full capacity.

"Nevertheless," he went on, "our team patrolled the vicinity for twenty-four hours in case the Blue Messenger was hiding somewhere and just waiting for a good time to make her escape. However, we did not find her or any signs that she had taken refuge in the area, and her body was not found."

General Baek nodded thoughtfully. "And so, what is your conclusion?"

"Based on our findings, sir," Sergeant Ho replied, "we presume that the Blue Messenger drowned while escaping arrest, and her body may have been carried much farther down the river, maybe even out to sea. The case can therefore be closed."

The Blue Messenger had regained consciousness by the time Jae-shin returned home that day. Although feverish, she was perfectly lucid, so he was able to tell her the good news regarding the outcome of her case.

"Does this mean I'm free?" she asked. A smile dawned over her face when he nodded, and she laughed. Her laughter was weak, due to her state of physical exhaustion, but there was genuine joy in the sound.

"You could have escaped without having to go through all of this," he couldn't resist pointing out, gesturing towards the sickbed. "If you had only followed my lead."

"What lead?" the Blue Messenger retorted. "You could have talked to me about this instead of just assuming I can read minds." She turned her head to address Ka-hai, who was seated nearby, folding fresh bandages. "Is he really like this, my lady? Does he not tell you things, too?"

Jae-shin's wife shot him a brief glance before smiling stiffly at their houseguest. "I think that my 'things' might be different from your 'things,' so I can't rightly say."

"Anyway," he interrupted before the women could start in on him, "just because your case is closed doesn't mean that you can pick up where you left off. I can't guarantee that you'll get out of it alive next time."

"Don't worry," the invalid assured him. "It looks like my days as the Blue Messenger are over, anyway; I don't think I can go back to running across rooftops with this leg.

"I'm not sorry I did it, though," she declared, her eyes bright. "I was married once myself, you know; my husband and I didn't have half as much as this, but we were happy. Then he got sick and died last winter because we couldn't get him any medicine or firewood. We had no money, and no one would help us."

Jae-shin nodded. Her voice was clear and steady, but the pain of loss, familiar to him as his own breath, still lingered in her words.

"I was a wreck," she continued, "but then I remembered the Red Messenger's writings and I thought, why not let my thoughts and feelings fly, too? The idea that I could bind in words the bad things that had happened to us, that I could at least tell someone about them — and, all right, annoy the yangbans while I was at it," she admitted with a soft chuckle, "made me feel less angry somehow."

"Wouldn't it have been better," Ka-hai ventured as she finished with the bandages, "to do something about what was wrong, once you knew what that was?"

"What could I have done?" the Blue Messenger asked. "I'm a sangmin, and a woman. Even though the king says that we live in a new Joseon, there hasn't been any real change yet for people like me. Besides," she added with a shrug, "nothing would have brought my husband back."

"Sometimes," Jae-shin said, glancing at his wife, "all you can really do is write about it." Ka-hai's eyes met his for a moment before she dropped her gaze and turned her attention to lighting a brazier to brew some tea.

The Messenger turned back to him. "You understand all of this a bit too well, Officer," she observed shrewdly. "You used to be the Red Messenger, didn't you?"

With the way he had critiqued her writing and tracked her down, time after time, it was no surprise that she figured that out, but he hadn't expected her to ask him about it so directly. Still, he supposed there was no reason to lie or be evasive about his past. "Guilty as charged," he admitted with a crooked smile.

"I had a feeling that was you," she said, wagging her finger at him. "You knew far too much about my doings, sometimes even before I thought of it myself. No wonder you gave me all that advice."

"And that's precisely why you should have listened to me," he concluded, bringing their conversation full circle.

She rolled her eyes. "You can say 'I told you so' all you want, but it's too late to undo things now."

"I suppose it is," he averred, "but it's not too late for one last piece of advice — now that you have to put your Messenger days behind you, it's time to think of something else to do."

Jae-shin felt better than he had in days when he and his wife retired to their bedroom that night. His life still felt a little bit off-kilter, but with the case officially closed and his father home (and having no objections to "Cousin Hyo-rin" staying a while), his worries were gradually going away.

Now, he thought, if he could only figure out what to do about the worry that was currently sitting across the low table from him, preparing to go to bed. He should be relieved that Ka-hai now knew about his previous life as the Red Messenger, but then she hadn't said anything to him about it. The sudden revelation was probably hard for her to swallow; but the fact that she had barely said a word to him since the conversation in the sickroom was worrisome.

Had she known what was on her husband's mind, Ka-hai would have readily agreed that his past wasn't something she could easily comprehend. What weighed more heavily on her thoughts, however, was the idea that the things she had said in anger on that fateful night had hurt him deeply. Now, she knew that she had to apologize.

"Will there be anything else, my lady?" Kwan-sook asked then, breaking into her thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh. No," she replied, shaking her head. "That will be all. Thank you, Kwan-sook."

"Good night, my lady." She bowed to her mistress, and then to the lady's husband. "My lord."

"Good night," chorused husband and wife.

After the maid quit the chamber, Ka-hai busied herself with shaking out her blanket and getting into bed. The silence that had fallen with Kwan-sook's departure grew heavy, and then oppressive when Jae-shin extinguished the candles and enveloped them in darkness.

There was a rustling noise as he, too, lay down. She knew that she had to say something, but was afraid to bring up their argument for fear that it would drive a wedge between them again. It might even send her husband away from her side... and to that of the Blue Messenger.

But it shouldn't be a problem if he knew that I was sorry, right?

"Hmm?" Jae-shin's voice, heavy with slumber, rumbled quietly in the night. "You said something?"

She winced, cursing her habit of muttering things to herself, but had no choice but to follow through now that she had unwittingly decided to speak. "I said I'm sorry," she told him, trying to keep her voice steady. "About the things I said before... when I complained about the Blue Messenger."

"Oh, that."

Ka-hai felt her face grow warm. It was hardly "I forgive you," but at least he also didn't sound as though he were still angry. "If I had known that you used to do the same thing," she added, "that it meant so much to you, then I would have tried to be more understanding about it all."

He was silent for a moment. "I suppose I should have told you. I've never had to actually tell anyone before."

"Actually, maybe I should have been more understanding even if I hadn't known. It's just that... I never imagined that people needed to do stuff like that. But," she added magnanimously, "I realize now that I've been lucky. My family has known hard times, but we've never been as poor as the Blue Messenger and her husband; and I've never lost a loved one, either."

"Yes, you've been very lucky," Jae-shin said with a small, but not entirely humorless, chuckle. "There are many others who haven't been able to solve their problems, no matter how hard they tried... and, of course, there is absolutely nothing you can do when you lose someone you love."

Ka-hai reached out impulsively to touch his hand. Her heart gave a painful lurch when he stiffened, but that was only momentary and soon enough, his fingers interlaced with hers. "Abeonim told me that your older brother was killed while serving the king," she said softly, "and that the two of you were very close. Was it Ajubeoni's death that made you angry enough to become the Red Messenger?"

He sighed. "Yes. I wanted the world to know that he died unjustly, and I wanted the people responsible to be afraid."

"I'm sure that it worked."

"It did," he told her. "And you know what was even better? Later on, I started hearing others talking about the Red Messenger's writings — scholars, merchants, and then even ordinary working people." He paused. "I realized..." His voice trailed off.

"What did you realize?" she asked after another, longer pause. "Jae-shin?" She sat up, not letting go of his hand, and leaned towards her husband, listening hard for any signs of distress. To her relief, she heard his deep, even breathing and realized that he had merely fallen asleep.

A small sigh of exasperation escaped Ka-hai as she lay back down. She also wanted to tell him about her pregnancy, but of course he had to go and spoil her plans. Ah, well... she thought, edging closer to Jae-shin and curling up against his side. At least one very important matter had finally been laid to rest.

Since the Blue Messenger had spent part of her youth in the country, it was easy for Ka-hai and "Cousin Hyo-rin" to fabricate a common history. However, Minister Moon eventually saw that things weren't what they seemed.

"Those two aren't really related, right?" he asked his son as they shared a postprandial drink in his study several days after his return from out of town.

Jae-shin looked at him, but Minister Moon barreled on before he forced the boy to lie. "Your wife's 'cousin' appeared here while I was away," he said, "at around the time the Blue Messenger disappeared and was presumed drowned. In addition, the laundresses are washing a suspiciously large amount of bandages, and I recognize some of the medicines Ka-hai is using from those instances when the Red Messenger was wounded. It's true that the woman may have become ill from getting caught in the rain," he concluded, "but that is clearly not all that's ailing her."

His son opened his mouth, then shut it again, then finally admitted, "No, Abeonim, it's not."

Minister Moon sighed. "You are aware that this means we're harboring a wanted criminal, don't you?"

"She's not wanted anymore," Jae-shin reminded him. "The case has been closed. But even if it's opened again," he added thoughtfully, "would it matter? This house has hidden a wanted criminal before."

"That was a different situation. I'm your father, and the servants are loyal to us. You had every right to expect safe haven here."

Jae-shin's face tightened in the rebellious scowl that had once been his customary expression while in his father's presence. "And the Blue Messenger doesn't?" he demanded, setting down his wine cup with a loud clack. "Is it fair for her to do the same thing as I did, but be left for the wolves because she's a commoner?"

"Calm down, Jae-shin," Minister Moon ordered. "I'm not saying that she has to leave; it's clear that she's not fit to travel just yet. I just hope you are aware of the lengths that everyone is going to in order to help you. Even though there aren't many of us living here, the servants have plenty of work to do as it is.

"And what about Ka-hai?" he went on. "She should be—" He cut himself off. Jae-shin would have wondered why, had he not been so angry, but the things that Minister Moon said next distracted him. "A good husband should be considerate of his wife's wishes, but instead, you've made her accept a strange woman into her home, tell lies for you—"

"It's not as though I brought home another wife, Abeonim!" Jae-shin said, bristling.

"Haven't you?"

"No!" he answered vehemently. "I don't have that kind of relationship with the Blue Messenger. I already have my hands full with one wife; I'd have to be insane to take another!"

Minister Moon gave a short bark of laughter. "You have a point."

"It's true that Ka-hai didn't want to help at first," his son acknowledged, "but she eventually decided to do so. It was also her idea to pretend that the Blue Messenger was her cousin. I had absolutely nothing to do with whatever it was she told you — Ka-hai came up with that all by herself."

"Did she?"

"You can go and ask her right now."

Minister Moon's eyebrows rose as he digested the information, and suddenly he smiled. "Then she must really love you."

She must really love you.

Jae-shin was still reeling from those words as he entered his bedroom later that night. Part of him cautioned that his father saying so didn't make it true, but he also discovered that the rest of him — which just happened to be the unsettlingly overwhelming majority — fervently wanted to believe that it was so.

A splashing sound behind the privacy screen broke into his thoughts, and then he heard Ka-hai's voice ask, "Kwan-sook, is that you?"

"Uh... no," he answered, stifling a hiccup against the back of his hand. "It's Jae-shin."

"Oh." There was another splash, and then the sound of trickling water as she apparently rose from her bath. Her towel, which had been draped over the top of the screen, disappeared from view. "Well, I should hope that it's you. Or else, I'd have to wonder why there was another man in my bedroom."

His chest tightened at the idea. (It was only natural that he react that way, he reasoned. She was his wife, and this was his room, too.) "If that ever happens," he advised her, "don't waste time wondering. Just shoot him."

Chuckling briefly to show that he was — mostly — joking, he turned away from that corner of the room. There was nothing to see there, he told himself, and no need to think about what she might be doing. Reading would be a more rewarding pastime.

Moving quickly, Ka-hai dried off and dressed in fresh clothing, then settled herself in front of her vanity case to attend to her hair, which she had already washed earlier that day and caught in a loose topknot to keep it dry as she bathed. Kwan-sook was excused from her duties because Sang-hun had caught a chill, so Ka-hai had to look after herself that night.

She heard Jae-shin hiccup as she undid the topknot and ducked her head to hide the color suffusing her cheeks. Thanks to Yong-ha, she knew what the hiccups meant, and remembered all too well what had happened the last time her husband had hiccuped in her presence.

Jae-shin blushed, too, even as he pretended to be absorbed in his book. He had been so wrapped up in trying to comprehend the idea that his wife might have tender feelings for him that he had forgotten to think about how he would now act around her.

A diversion seemed like a good idea. "My father knows that you and our guest aren't really related," he announced.

She froze in the middle of combing her hair and turned to him, her eyes wide. "Are we in trouble?"

He couldn't help smiling (and hiccuping again) at the "we." It was clear that Ka-hai had at least chosen to stand by him and his decision to help the Blue Messenger, despite their differences and the risks involved. That was her duty as his wife, of course, but why would she willingly take a greater part in the deception by lying to Minister Moon, if not out of love? The idea seemed to crack open something long buried inside of him, filling his soul with light.

"No," he replied. "Abeonim knew that I was once the Red Messenger, too. He understands."

"Good." It was a relief to know that Minister Moon wasn't going to turn them in, but Ka-hai found herself unable to relax because her husband wouldn't stop hiccuping. Was he just waiting for her to finish so that he could pounce on her? Should she even bother arranging her hair, if he was just going to take it down again?

(Was he hiccuping because he was thinking of someone else?)

Finally, unable to ignore the hiccups any longer, she turned to peer at him quizzically. "Are you all right, Jae-shin?"

"Me?" He nodded, even as his shoulders lurched from another hiccup. "I'm fine," he assured her in a tone that belied his words. "It's just, uh, nerves. From my father finding out our secret. We're not in any danger," he reminded her hastily. "I just didn't expect him to know."

"There's probably very little that goes on in this house that Abeonim doesn't know about," she said with a wry smile, then paused. "Would you like me to massage your shoulders for you?" Ka-hai suggested, glancing away shyly. Perhaps, if he knew that it was all right to approach her, then he wouldn't think of going to someone else to relieve his needs. "Or, if you'd rather, I have some herbs that will help you sleep."

"No! I'm fine," he repeated. Even the hiccup that followed sounded falsely bright. "I just..." Suddenly, he sat bolt upright. "I just need to write a letter!"

"A letter?" she asked with a puzzled frown. "At this time of night?"

Jae-shin nodded earnestly, jumping up to get paper and ink. "It's a very important letter. I really should write it before I forget."

"For whom is the letter?"

"It's for Professor Jung, my former teacher at Sungkyunkwan. We consulted him on the Blue Messenger case, and I haven't told him that the case has been closed." He gave her a small smile. "I should introduce you to him someday."

She managed a smile in return. At least her husband was imagining a "someday" in which they were still together. "That would be nice," she said politely as she finished braiding her hair and secured the plait with a blue ribbon. "Well, I suppose I should go to bed."

"You won't mind the light?"

"No, it's fine." Especially since Ka-hai intended to only pretend to sleep until he himself went to bed. "Good night."

"Good night." Jae-shin bit back a hiccup as he watched her his wife lie down, her back to him and the still-burning candle. He felt that he had made a very big mistake by rejecting her offer of help (and, perhaps, something more?), but he really did have to write to Professor Jung.

More importantly, he needed time to understand his own feelings regarding the momentous discoveries he had made that night.