In such circumstances, the Emperor might even interpret Baek-ryeon’s suicide as an act of rebellion, discontent with his reprimands.

Then, the Baek-ryeon family, barely sustained by her mother, would crumble in an instant.

Yoo Hyun couldn’t let that happen. If she couldn’t protect her mother, at least she had to protect what her mother tried to preserve.

So, instead of lying on her mother’s body and crying, Yoo Hyun thought.

Why did her mother commit suicide? Was it despair? A moment of emotion? Or a reasoned action?

Why was there no suicide note? As the heir, shouldn’t she have been told something?

Why choose silk as the means of suicide, and that too with the Emperor’s scolding letter? Was it a display of discontent towards the Emperor, or just the simplest method?

Did her mother really not care about what would happen after her death, or did she trust Yoo Hyun to understand everything without being told?

Countless thoughts, anxieties, and theories tangled and untangled in Yoo Hyun’s mind. During that time, the sun rose high and set, and the moon took its place before retreating again.

Gazing at the morning star, Yoo Hyun finally understood everything. The reason and purpose of her mother’s suicide, her own future actions, everything.

Her mother trusted her not to say a word, believing that Yoo Hyun could perfectly understand and act according to Baek-ryeon’s will, and thus, left no instructions.

“…But you should have said goodbye.”

But understanding didn’t mean she could accept it. So, Yoo Hyun felt sad and angry.

She really didn’t need wealth or power. Even if their family was barred from officialdom and had to live secluded in the countryside, it wouldn’t have mattered.

She would have preferred her mother to stay alive. If given the choice, she would have surely said so. Holding her mother’s thin hand, she would have insisted that they live happily together, no matter what others thought.
But Mother didn’t ask for Yoo Hyun’s opinion. She didn’t even mention her plan in advance, denying Yoo Hyun any chance to persuade her. It had always been like this.

Was it due to walking the path of a strict military life, or perhaps because she was a genius of her era? Mother was really lacking in explanations.

She would explain if Yoo Hyun asked, but receiving a look from her mother that seemed to question if she really needed to be told in words, Yoo Hyun gradually learned to resign herself.

Mother’s predictions had never been wrong. Even if Yoo Hyun didn’t understand or agree, just following Mother’s orders always worked out well.

That’s how Yoo Hyun had been conditioned. To actions without explanations. To a life of just following her mother’s will.

“It shouldn’t have been like that.”

Perhaps she should have acted more spoiled. So that her mother might have wanted to leave a final goodbye.

Maybe she should have been dumber. So her mother would have thought she needed to be explained everything, to be sat down and talked to.

Maybe she should have been more rebellious. So her mother, worried about things going awry without convincing her, wouldn’t have dared to commit suicide.

If she couldn’t preempt and stop her mother’s plans by being more capable and wiser, maybe she should have been like that.

Then maybe this end wouldn’t have come.

Yoo Hyun deeply regretted it. She regretted it because it was irreversible. She regretted it because the dead could not be brought back to life.

But she didn’t cry. A common soldier might, but a general never has the luxury to mourn losses during a battle.

That’s what it meant to be the daughter of Baek-ryeon. Inheriting her mother’s death as a legacy, Yoo Hyun painfully realized that. Baek-ryeon had always carried her military demeanor even into daily life.

So, when dawn broke again, Yoo Hyun, leaving behind her regrets, unshed tears, and lingering sadness beside the body, got up. There was not a single tear on her face, but her expression was somber.

It was not the face of a daughter who had seen her mother’s suicide, but of one who saw her mother weaken and die naturally.

Yoo Hyun removed the silk wrapped around her mother’s neck, mingling it with other letters. She covered her face with a cloth so that even the servants couldn’t see the marks on her mother’s face and neck.

Only then did Yoo Hyun call for others.

“My mother has passed away. Bring paper and ink, I will write the letters to announce the death.”

Using the fact that Baek-ryeon had refused to eat as a reason, and claiming that she didn’t want to show her mother’s final state to others, Yoo Hyun took the responsibility of handling her mother’s body.

It was against the norm not to let a proper mortician handle the preparation of the body, especially when there was no lack of money or manpower. But given the situation, everyone accepted it as is.

Thus, Baek-ryeon remained a loyal official who ‘died from grief and starvation after being dismissed by the Emperor for speaking her mind.’ The truth of the matter stayed buried within Yoo Hyun.