After her brief meeting with Tina in the guest room—where Jihoon had been staying temporarily due to Jiho and his girlfriend taking over the main quarters—Jiho barged into the room without warning, his presence an unwelcome intrusion.
"What is it now, you pest?" Jihoon yelled, her voice echoing off the walls.
"I shall forgive you for calling me a pest, but I came to hand you your pass," Jiho replied, stretching out his hand. His tone was strained, clearly struggling to maintain a semblance of civility.
Jihoon collected the pass from him and pointed to the door. "Your Highness, there was a reason I told you to send someone to give this to me. Because seeing you can destroy my inner peace. So if you excuse me, I was enjoying the sight of the moon and stars before you destroyed the lovely picture," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
The only good thing Jihoon had benefitted from this soul switch and reincarnation was Na-ri's ability to talk back no matter who was talking. That sharp tongue of hers had never lost its touch, even after all she had faced.
"Why so insulting?" Jiho asked, his patience wearing thin.
"Why so disruptive, your Highness?" Jihoon shot back, not missing a beat.
"Why are you always like this? It's tiring," Jiho commented, a note of exasperation in his voice.
"I'm glad if you are tired. That means you should retire to your room and stop destroying my air already. Seesh!" Jihoon shouted, pointing emphatically to the door.
Jiho glared at her for a moment longer, the tension in the room palpable. But he knew better than to engage further; Jihoon's resolve was like steel, unyielding and sharp. Without another word, he quietly left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Jihoon lay flat on the bed, exhaling deeply as the door closed. "Finally! My time of peace," she murmured to herself, a rare moment of tranquility settling over her.
The moonlight filtered through the window, casting a soft glow on the room. Jihoon stared at the ceiling, her mind drifting. The confrontations with Jiho were exhausting, but she took some solace in the small victories, like the one she had just achieved. Every little moment of defiance was a step towards reclaiming some semblance of control in her turbulent life.
Her thoughts wandered to the tasks ahead—her upcoming visit to the Kwon sect, the mystery of Master Tae-kwon's poisoning, and the looming threat of the Blood Wing Assassins. It was a lot to process, but Jihoon knew she had to stay focused. There was no room for error.
As sleep began to overtake her, Jihoon allowed herself a small smile. The battles were far from over, but for now, she could rest. The moon and stars outside her window seemed to shine a little brighter, as if offering a silent promise of hope.
"Tomorrow is another day," she whispered to herself, her eyes closing. "And I will be ready for whatever it brings."
******
Na-ri stood at the entrance of the hospital, her expression a mask of indifference as she prepared herself for the monthly ritual. She was now Soo-ah's personal blood bank, a role she had unwillingly accepted. The original Na-ri had agreed to this arrangement under duress, threatened by the looming specter of her mother Sun-hee's medical bills being cut off. With Sun-hee on life support, losing that financial support would be tantamount to signing her death warrant.
As Na-ri walked into the blood transfusion unit, she observed Soo-ah sitting in her patient's gown, looking as pitiful as always. The sight made Na-ri's blood boil, but she maintained her composure.
"Good afternoon, Mr., Mrs., and Miss Lee," she greeted, her voice laced with a polite yet distant formality. Her greeting visibly startled the Lee family.
"I have warned you, Na-ri. We are your parents. I refuse to accept such a greeting," Joon-oh, her father, pointed out, his tone stern.
Na-ri's mind flashed to Jihoon, who, despite being raised with royal etiquette, would find a way to subtly convey his displeasure. But this was modern Seoul, where brutal honesty often replaced veiled politeness. She was Na-ri now, no longer shackled by the constraints of nobility.
"Then go and sleep. When you wake up, I'll greet you again," Na-ri replied, her words laced with a mix of sarcasm and defiance.
A wave of confusion swept through the room, the Lees trying to grasp the meaning behind her words. Hyejin, her stepmother, predictably took offense.
"You can't say that to your father," she yelled, her face flushed with indignation. The nurses, sensing the rising tension, discreetly excused themselves, informing the family to call them when they were ready to begin the procedure.
"Then don't sleep. Remain awake, become so tired that you can die from stress. It seems your wife adores you a lot, Mr. Lee," Na-ri retorted, her voice calm but cutting.
Her ambiguous remark could be interpreted in multiple ways, from suggesting he simply take a nap to implying he should sleep eternally, six feet under.
"Now, I'm sure Hyejin did not understand your words, Na-ri. You should change your clothes so we can begin the procedure. We can't waste both our time," her father tried to mediate, attempting to diffuse the situation. "Also, apologize to Hyejin for not speaking properly," Joon-oh added, his voice tinged with authority.
Hyejin looked triumphant, while Soo-ah's face lit up as if she had just won a lottery.
"And if I don't?" Na-ri asked, her voice calm but challenging.
"Then we might as well send your mother to her grave," Soo-ah threatened, her eyes glinting with malice.
Na-ri couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.
"Do you think you can determine my mother's fate? For once, I am truly grateful to you for marrying me off to such a wealthy husband. I can choose to dissolve the contract you struggled so hard to secure, a contract for which you sold your own daughter. Isn't this a good trade?" Na-ri said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain.
Initially, the Lees thought she was bluffing, but the events that followed proved them wrong. Sun-hee was transferred to a private hospital with a personal carer, courtesy of Na-ri's husband, Jinwoo, who had given her the authority to act as she pleased. Her first decision? To flaunt her newfound power in their faces.
"I came here out of kindness to give Soo-ah my blood, but I just realized that maybe you don't need it after all," Na-ri declared, her voice resolute.
The Lees had resorted to such desperate measures because obtaining blood from a bank was prohibitively expensive, and they had used every excuse imaginable to avoid it. Her blood was almost free, and for all the money they were supposedly paying her, they weren't even doing a good job of it.
Joon-oh looked livid, his face a mask of suppressed rage. Na-ri, on the other hand, felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Soo-ah had a rare blood type, and only Na-ri, among everyone they knew, shared it. Without her donations, there was no guarantee that Soo-ah's treatment would continue successfully in the coming months.
"Serves them right for treating me like this," Na-ri thought, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of empowerment.