The Line Between Life and Death

Jin-mok was startled to realize that the Head Eunuch had been waiting in the room all along. Had he been so consumed by the Emperor’s presence that he failed to notice another person standing right there?

He felt as though he were losing his mind. Yet, more than anyone else’s, the Emperor’s every movement captivated his gaze. Even the simple act of the Emperor drawing back his extended arm to rest it on his knee made Jin-mok want to let out a long, shaky breath.

Jin-mok stared at the spot where the Emperor’s hand had landed before stealing a glance at his face. The Emperor was already looking back at him, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl. When their eyes met, the crease between his brows deepened.

“I told you to find another way to beg for mercy, yet your eyes look as though you are trying to seduce me.”

Jin-mok’s eyes flew wide in shock. What on earth is he saying? In the next heartbeat, his face erupted in a scorching heat. He remembered the Emperor’s earlier comment about his gaze pleading for royal favor.

Was I looking at him that way again? Seeing the boy’s face turn as red as a ripe pomegranate ready to burst at the slightest touch, the Emperor let out a faint snort.

Hmph. At the sound of that small, dismissive huff, Jin-mok shrank back. He truly wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

“It… it is a misunderstanding,” Jin-mok stammered, dropping his gaze to the table.

“A misunderstanding? Of what?”

“I did not look upon Your Majesty with such… such intent…”

A faint smile played on the Emperor’s lips. Flustered even further by the expression, Jin-mok’s speech dissolved into a stutter.

“I—I simply… I… I did not know where else to place my gaze…”

“I see. So, because you had nowhere else to look, you stared at me as if you were licking me with your eyes?”

Licking? Jin-mok gaped at the choice of words. Surely, even he couldn’t have looked at the man like that. The Emperor reached out and gave a sharp flick to the underside of Jin-mok’s chin.

“You are doing it even now. As if you are begging for my favor.”

Jin-mok recoiled, but the Emperor ignored his reaction, his finger trailing up from the chin. Just as he lightly tugged on Jin-mok’s lower lip, a small, polite cough sounded from the side.

The Head Eunuch bowed low as he caught the Emperor’s eye. His hands were full of painting supplies.

Only after scanning the eunuch from head to toe did the Emperor finally pull his hand away from Jin-mok. He leaned back deeply into his chair and gave a slight nod to the eunuch.

As the Head Eunuch laid out the items he had retrieved from the mother-of-pearl cabinet, Jin-mok gazed at them endlessly. The Emperor’s lewd teasing was forgotten in an instant.

He is letting me use these? Jin-mok felt a sudden wave of sorrow. Were these not Ha Jin-mok’s belongings? Were these not the very tools the Emperor had bestowed upon him one by one?

They were treasures he had used with such care, fearing they might wear down. Jin-mok turned a trembling gaze toward the Emperor, who was currently looking at the stranger, Wi So-hwa.

The Emperor happened to be narrowing his eyes, casting a chilling look at the Prince. When their eyes met, the corners of the sovereign’s eyes stretched into a predatory line.

“There is that look again.”

Jin-mok blinked blankly. Had the Emperor sensed the hurt in his heart? While he sat there with his mouth agape, the Emperor gave a cold laugh and answered the question Jin-mok hadn’t even asked.

“Do you truly desire my royal favor that much?”

Despite his frigid expression and voice, his tone carried a hint of mockery. Jin-mok, failing to grasp the nuance quickly, stammered out a desperate reply.

“I… I do not desire such things.”

Ha. The Emperor let out a hollow laugh and tapped his fingertips lightly against the table.

“’Such things’?”

Startled by the Emperor’s sharp, crooked gaze, Jin-mok scrambled to his knees on the floor.

“I apologize! I have acted presumptuously!”

His voice shook violently with nerves. The old Jin-mok had found the Emperor difficult, but he had never feared him like this. After the events of today, he couldn’t understand how he had ever been so comfortable around him; now, the man was nothing but terrifying.

As Jin-mok prostrated himself so deeply his forehead touched the floor, the Emperor’s command dropped onto his back.

“Since you have been presumptuous, you must be punished.”

Jin-mok held his breath, waiting for the verdict. Is it truly the paddle this time? He felt as though a sob might escape him from sheer terror. While he bit his lip and held his breath, the Emperor continued listlessly.

“You must know what a grave sin it is to wag your tongue so carelessly in my presence.”

“I… I am deeply sorry.”

A large hand entered Jin-mok’s field of vision as he shivered on the floor. Suddenly, his chin was seized. The Emperor gripped him with enough force to be called brutal, forcing his head up. When Jin-mok squeezed his eyes shut in shock, a command as sharp as a winter frost fell upon him.

“Open your eyes and look me straight in the face.”

Startled by the solemn, low voice, Jin-mok opened his eyes but could not bring himself to meet the Imperial countenance, casting his gaze downward instead. His body flinched at the sound of the Emperor clicking his tongue.

“Do you find my words amusing?”

The tone remained chilling. The voice that used to be as warm as a spring breeze had faded into a distant memory. Faced with this grim, almost sinister voice, Jin-mok’s vision blurred.

“Not at all. How could I ever hold Your Majesty’s words in low regard?”

Jin-mok swallowed hard and finally forced his trembling gaze upward. When their eyes met, the Emperor pulled one corner of his mouth into a sharp, thin smile and abruptly let go of his chin.

“How dull you are.”

The Emperor looked as though his mood had been thoroughly spoiled. He gestured toward the tools.

“Let us see this talent you are so confident in. Your life depends on it, so you had best be prudent.”

“Your grace is immeasurable.”

After bowing low, Jin-mok shuffled on his knees to the table, moving the supplies the eunuch had laid out onto the floor. Perhaps noticing his sluggish movements, the Head Eunuch stepped in to lend a hand.

It took a considerable amount of time just to lay out the inkstone, pigments, and paper in the order he was accustomed to. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking under the Emperor’s scrutiny, slowing him down further. Every time the Emperor clicked his tongue at the sight of those trembling fingertips, Jin-mok’s hands would freeze entirely.

With such tremors, can I even draw a straight line? Jin-mok licked his parched lips, trying to calm his heart. Perhaps his efforts paid off, for as he began to grind the ink, the tension slowly drained away and the trembling stopped.

The Emperor remained silent, but Jin-mok could feel the man’s gaze following his hands with a heavy, chilling intensity.

Once the ink reached the desired consistency, Jin-mok set the stone aside. As he straightened his back and looked down at the pigment dishes, he realized something with a start. There was no glue solution (agyo).

Glue acted as the binder that allowed the pigments to adhere to the paper. One had to mix the powdered pigments with water and the glue solution to create paint. However, the solution spoiled easily and was difficult to store for long periods.

When he lived as Jin-mok, he had boiled a fresh batch every two or three days. Having been in So-hwa’s body, he hadn’t had a reason to cook it and had momentarily forgotten.

What do I do? He looked up and locked eyes with the Emperor, who was still watching him. The Emperor’s brow twitched as if inviting him to speak.

“There is no glue, so I cannot use the colors…”

Does it matter since I am drawing a portrait? He wouldn’t even finish the sketch today anyway. The realization came late, after the words had already left his mouth.

“It does not matter, as you will have no need for color today.”

It seemed the Emperor wasn’t going to demand he finish the entire thing tonight. Can I stay alive until the portrait is done? Jin-mok lowered his eyes for a moment before stealing another glance at the Emperor.

“Shall I… draw the royal portrait again?”

The Emperor rested his chin on the hand he had placed on the table and let out a short laugh.

“It seems you wish to live for another month or so, but I have no desire to tolerate your presence for that long.”

At the words that seemed to see right through his inner thoughts, Jin-mok quietly lowered his head. The Emperor continued.

“North of Angyeong, the capital of the Great Empire, lies Mount Woljang. There is a peak there called Seonnyeobong (Fairies’ Peak), so named because its precipitous cliffs resemble the sweeping skirts of a fairy. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes… I have encountered it.”

Encountered it? It was a mountain that every painter in the Empire had tried to capture. There were so many historical paintings of it that people joked even provincial painters who had never seen the mountain could draw it with their eyes closed.

If So-hwa’s memories were correct, there were even a couple of scrolls of it hanging in the palace in Gyeong—though Jin-mok hadn’t seen them himself since he hadn’t been able to wander the palace since waking up.

“Then you should be able to draw it.”

Jin-mok had tried to be vague by saying he had “encountered” it, but the Emperor was not one to be fooled by petty tricks. Since Jin-mok had never refused the Emperor’s requests in the past, he bowed his head and answered.

“I shall follow your command.”

Jin-mok poured a little water into a shallow dish and mixed in a light wash of ink. He dipped a soft rabbit-hair brush into the wash and immediately leaned over the rice paper. Though his left arm, which supported his weight, shook from his poor physical condition, he gritted his teeth and endured it.