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Our Blooming Youth: Episodes 9-10




Our Blooming Youth: Episodes 9-10

Disaster has struck the palace. With a decade-old conspiracy beginning to unwind, our prince must do the unthinkable to escape it: trust in his friends. He and our heroine are beginning to reconcile, but complications abound — as do spies…

EPISODES 9-10

Jae-yi isn’t left in peril for long. Not while Ga-ram has anything to say about it. Two expert tosses of a laundry stick later, and her assailant is on the ropes. Soon, Myung-jin arrives on the scene with an improvised projectile weapon and a rallying battle cry of, “You dare attack my friend and student?!” Alas, while the three escape largely unscathed, the masked attacker is whisked away by their black-clad ally.

No matter: Jae-yi plunges through the streets, intent on reaching her prince. Sure, he might have exiled her a little that one time. But the minute red letters rained from the sky, she knew he must be suffering alone. And indeed, back at the palace, standing by the smoldering remains of a horribly symbolic plum tree, Hwan aches for the comfort of Jae-yi’s presence. Jae-yi offers Hwan her usual, unswerving practicality: this was the work of a living being. And like all human duplicity, it can be unraveled. Close inspection of the tree reveals it was coated in sulfur.

Sulfur alone could not have caused the tree to burn so badly. But as Myung-jin later suggests, it might not have been the only thing in the mix. Saltpeter and beeswax would have done the job just fine. Incidentally, Scholar Park absolutely must tell the crown prince he’s being billed for this consultation. As Ga-ram — who actually possesses self-preservation instincts — sputters a denial, Hwan succumbs to the inevitable. Seeing as the crown prince is definitely not in this room right now, he, Scholar Park, will foot the bill of a thank you meal.

Jae-yi falls on the food ravenously, whilst she regales her friends with a tale of woe. The crown prince works his eunuchs to the bone! Her salary is pitiful! She often skips multiple meals. And does Hwan care? Not one bit! Myung-jin and Ga-ram erupt into fury at this injustice. Meanwhile, Scholar Park suggests, with a strained look, that perhaps princes have problems too. Just a thought.

His retaliation is the perfect blend of sweetness and sass. As Jae-yi prepares to investigate all purchasers of saltpeter, beeswax and sulfur, he pushes three nyang across the table. A eunuch’s salary is, after all, quite small — especially since she lost money on the polo bet. Jae-yi blinks up at him sadly, holds out her hands, and reveals… six nyang. She switched bets when she learned he was playing. She is, she explains in tones of deepest remorse, a woman of great insight. Still, she’ll be taking that money.

Jae-yi’s famed insight strikes gold again when she visits the marketplace. Armed with three ledgers listing purchasers of beeswax, saltpeter and sulfur, she hurries back to Hwan — with unpleasant information. Still, she reckons without being followed by a spy for Right State Councilor Jo. On her return, she collides with a man carrying a heavy bundle… who expertly pickpockets the ledgers in question.

Meanwhile, Right State Councilor Jo is truly beginning to stretch his villainous wings. He doesn’t know who was behind the chaos sown by the head shaman, but he also knows an opportunity when he sees one. Deftly, he spreads gossip of the plum tree, until a crowd rallies around the palace, urging the king to take responsibility for the ill omen. It is only now that the king really begins to recognize the Jo family’s strength. Scratch a government minister, and a member of the Jo family bleeds. Therefore, when Councilor Jo deals his next blow, it’s all the king can do to bow to it.

Seeing as the heavens have clearly voiced their displeasure, Councilor Jo insists the king apply for Gamseon: i.e, limiting the meals served to the royal family, as penance. Upon being deprived of his usual delicacies, Grand Prince Muyeon bursts into tears. Princess Hayeon stoically pronounces her new rations delicious. The king throws a full-on royal tantrum, kicking over his table of food. No gourmet meals? It’s like Hwan said: rich people have problems too! But of course, it’s not about the food — it’s the calculated humiliation of it all. The king, Councilor Jo cackles, must remember who keeps him in power.

Disaster strikes when Councilor Jo presents the king with Jae-yi’s stolen findings. Minutes later, guards from the Royal Investigation Bureau come running — to the home of Left State Councilor Han. The reason Jae-yi was so horrified? All evidence points to her would-be father-in-law as the plum tree arsonist. Sung-on returns home to find guards at his door, his mother kneeling in terror, and his father looking… oddly calm, actually. Also present? His supposed best friend, the crown prince — and his new favorite eunuch.

But Hwan is here for one thing only: the truth. At his request, Councilor Han opens the door to his storehouse. It becomes clear that every suspicious purchase has an explanation. The beeswax? All in the name of fancy candle-making. The saltpeter? Purchased to fix the Min family pavilion in Gaeseong. And the sulfur? Fireworks — for a wedding celebration. This revelation cracks Sung-on’s face wide open. Of all the things he’d expected from his austere father, being thrown a wedding party was not one of them.

For that matter, the last thing he’d expected from Hwan was faith in his family’s innocence. And yet, that’s what his entire defense hinged on. Hwan hadn’t known what he’d find in that storehouse — just that, as a wise woman once reminded him, Confucius had a thing or two to say on the topic of trust. Now, the two face one another: Hwan looking softer than he’s ever looked; Sung-on in tears. Hesitant, Hwan asks — can we be friends again? I never stopped being your friend, replies Sung-on. Jae-yi looks on proudly as the two reconcile — as does Councilor Han.

Later, Hwan faces Jae-yi and asks — can we be friends too? Jae-yi is touched. But also, it would be remiss not to mention that Hwan never apologized for the whole exile thing. Not properly! Hwan, momentarily tongue-tied, regards her in silence. I missed you, he thinks. The palace felt empty without you by my side. Then, he informs Jae-yi that he did, in fact, apologize. Quietly. In his head. Much, he adds, as Jae-yi accuses him of cheating, like someone might address their grievances to an innocent chair.

Still, Hwan is prepared to do penance in a language that comes more naturally to him: extravagant gifts of food! There’s a midnight feast waiting in the library. Jae-yi immediately abandons her complaints in favor of reigniting her love affair with yakgwa. Not many people can demand a prince serve them liquor and live. Jae-yi does it multiple times. As the night grows heavier, and our heroine steadily drunker, talk turns to marriage.

Jae-yi is a woman of delightful pragmatism. She did not, in fact, fall in love with Sung-on at first sight. Far from it: she decided to like him, in the interests of a harmonious marriage. None of this mealy-mouthed, follow-your-heart business that Hwan prefers. Still, it was an empty life, hiding behind her brother’s name — and it wouldn’t be any fuller darning Sung-on’s socks. Quite truthfully, she’d rather be a eunuch, with all the freedom it entails. Better yet — head eunuch! Hwan could make that happen! He promises, right?

More troubles arise that night than our heroes realize. As Jae-yi gives a spirited rendition of her head eunuch voice (girl’s clearly been practising — it’s spot on), and Hwan very loudly despairs of her, someone peers into the secret room, appalled. It’s Tae-gang — and he’s overheard the entire conversation. Meanwhile, as Ga-ram tiptoes home, she is spotted by three men, clutching a wanted poster with her face. Slave hunters. Their plan is to bide their time, draw out Jae-yi, and deliver both women to Councilor Jo.

The next day, Hwan, Jae-yi, and Sung-on put their heads together. It’s time they found out who this “Song” person was — and why his supposed ghost wants the Yi family to suffer. Leveraging Sung-on’s contacts, they source an official diary. Behind it is the story of Right State Councilor Jo’s ascent.

Ten years ago, in Byeokcheon, there was a popular uprising. Its leader? SONG (Yoon Seok-hyun), a blacksmith — whose bloodthirsty grin and lethally sharp sickle struck terror into the heart of Byeokcheon’s governor, JO WON-OH (Jo Jae-ryong). Song and his bandits fought in the streets with pitchforks, storming the region’s offices and cutting down anyone who stood in their way. Won-oh was captured, wrapped in a straw mat and abandoned on the outside border — bleeding, but conscious.

If the record is to be believed, Won-oh stumbled back miles to warn the king of Song’s rebellion. Councilor Jo — at this time, Minister for War — urged the king to act fast. At his persuasion, the king issued him with Byeongbu: emergency military command. Whilst the rebels declared their territory an independent country, Jo Won-bo led his men into Byeokcheon. The battle was blood-streaked, brutal, and over within a month. All rebels were annihilated. Won-bo was richly rewarded — and Byeokcheon, razed to the ground.

This is almost definitely not the full story. Recent events suggest there are Song sympathizers living. In fact, judging by the furtive actions of Man-deok and Bok-soon, they might be as close to home as Myung-jin’s favorite inn. Councilor Jo is determined to crush any remaining rebels — whilst avoiding a reinvestigation of the Byeokcheon case. After all, he has a power base to bolster, and a grand-nephew to enthrone. However, as his niece, the current queen (Hong Soo-hyun) suspects, his ambition may well be his death.

And as she ponders her uncle’s hypothetical bloody downfall? She smirks. The queen is an intriguing figure: quiet, unassuming, and uncomfortable in the face of Councilor Jo’s power-hungry monologues. Now, she rushes to Myungan’s bedside, where the grand prince lies sweating after a nightmare. He’s haunted by what he witnessed at the head shaman’s trial, paralyzed with fear of the dastardly rebel Song. The queen shakes her head through tears. Listen to your mother, she urges him. Song wasn’t like that.

Meanwhile, Hwan flicks through the encyclopedia of his eidetic memory. Too many of the key players in this mystery are originally from Byeokcheon. There’s Oh Man-shik, for instance, the man from the Department of Taoism who sabotaged Hwan’s pen at the hunting grounds — now disappeared. There’s the head shaman, now dead. And there’s a eunuch from the Department of Hawks, whom he’s keen to speak to before another disaster befalls the palace.

Things are already worse than Hwan knows. Unnoticed by anyone, a court lady (Kim Chae-won) writes the next in a series of secret notes. There’s a spy in the eastern palace — and she’s been operating under his nose the entire time.

Holy plot-dump, people! Decades-old events that still shadow the present and traumatize its statesmen are utterly my jam, so I love the direction things are going in. I also like that Councilor Jo isn’t quite your dime-a-dozen cackling villain — he’s devious and brutal, but he’s also got a complex history. Plus, he’s just the tip of the iceberg: it seems there’s a much wider — and darker — story at play. I’m especially intrigued by those hints we’re getting of the queen’s motivations. I hope it isn’t all just backstory — I’d love to see her be a complex political player with her own agenda.

Jae-yi continues to be an utter joy. Jeon So-ni’s hilarious facial dexterity makes me giggle every time. Plus, her opinions on marriage were such a breath of fresh air! My personal bugbear is when historical fiction acts like the only sort of freedom any woman wants is the ability to marry for love. Ridiculous! Jae-yi’s stance is a gorgeous antidote to that. She’s well acquainted with her role in society, and she plans to carve out the best possible life for herself. As a noblewoman, that meant making the best out of her inevitable marriage. But now, she’s seeing possibilities — and those have nothing to do with love. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a Joseon heroine aspire to become head eunuch, and frankly, I wish her luck with it. I can’t begin to predict a satisfying ending for her — but I’m not convinced that becoming crown princess would be one. Still, we shall see… after all, we’re only halfway through, and everything might change in time!

 
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Our Blooming Youth: Episodes 9-10
Source: Buzz Pinay Daily

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