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My Dearest: Episodes 15-16
by alathe
Our hero lies wounded, with our heroine waiting ceaselessly by his side. She’s got a whole lot of medicine bowls and damp towels in her future. Still, perhaps when he gains consciousness, they’ll finally have the chance for an honest conversation. That said, they’re living on borrowed time — yet another political crisis looms large on the horizon…
EPISODES 15-16
Jang-hyun sleeps the sleep of the recently impaled, while Gil-chae keeps vigil, hoping for signs of life. She can’t quite resist doing something she’s wanted to do for literal years: reaching out and clasping his hand. As she drifts off, Jang-hyun stirs. He hides a small smile. Then, with Gil-chae resting by his bedside, he closes his eyes once more.
Meanwhile, Goo Jam has been every bit as relentless in pursuit of the woman he loves. He finds Jong Jong in a dire situation, fending off her new captor’s attempts at assault. Luckily, our hero brought a large bludgeoning weapon. One solid thunk later, he and Jong Jong make their escape as if in a dream, laughing all the while. But as the adrenaline fades, things get awkward. It’s not Jong Jong’s fault that she studied at the Gil-chae school of courtship. When Goo Jam goes in for a kiss, she panics, gets indignant, and bops him half-heartedly on the cheek. After that, it’s kind of hard to recover the mood.
Later, Gil-chae and Jong Jong fall into each other’s arms, tears flowing freely. Gil-chae is awash with guilt at the thought that she’d failed to protect her. Still, she’s adamant they can’t make their way back home yet — not with Jang-hyun still mortally wounded. But Goo Jam smells a rat. It takes one snarky comment from him before poor, mortally wounded Jang-hyun sits bolt upright in bed, back from the brink of death. Yup: turns out an arrow to the back is no match for a man in love. Jang-hyun is committed. He knows when he wakes, Gil-chae has no excuse to remain… consequently, if he must forgo speech, baths, and the ability to scratch his nose for months at a time, then so be it!
Tensions arise. Yang-chun is pretty miffed by Jang-hyun’s long-term holiday from speaking, walking, or scheming — primarily because it puts him in charge of the rescued Joseon captives. Still, you can’t fault his loyalty: when Gil-chae walks in, he puts on an Oscar-worthy display of bedside weeping. Meanwhile, Gil-chae and Ryang-eum learn that hell is other people… more specifically, each other. There’s only so many times one person can mop their beloved’s clammy brow, let alone two, and the household is running low on towels. It’s not their finest moment when they find themselves in a tug-of-war match over a medicine bowl — or when its contents is thrown on Jang-hyun’s unsuspecting face. Arguably, he had that one coming.
Meanwhile, in Jang-hyun’s absence, a simple question from the captives sends Yang-chun spinning into a moral quagmire: when can we go home? It’s a raw deal; even in Joseon they’re considered property, requiring an owner to ransom them back. Some of them don’t have that. Eventually, Yang-chun — ignoring Goo Jam’s obligatory grumbling — agrees to lend everyone the money required. Still, with the journey back to Joseon so fraught, he warns that it’s safer to farm for the crown prince.
On that front, Gil-chae is determined to pull her weight. You don’t claw your way to the top of the mini-dagger business without learning a thing or two about blacksmithing! She teaches the farmers how to repair their machines, whilst regaling the “unconscious” Jang-hyun with stories of her day. One time, he sneaks out of bed to watch her work. To his absolute delight, she remains as abrasive as ever. But she also abandons all thoughts of rank to laugh and rake soil with the rest of them. Meanwhile, the displaced Joseon court watch from afar, listening to the farmers sing and thinking of their homeland.
Jang-hyun’s game of pretend lasts longer than I’d be able to tolerate not washing my own hair without breaking — but it reaches a conclusion nonetheless. Namely, the point at which it breaks Gil-chae. Weeping, she announces that she’d give up her life if it meant he’d get better. At this, Jang-hyun, still awkwardly recumbent, stages a miraculous recovery. Crucially, this does not prevent him from milking his injury for all it’s worth. Over the next few days, he develops a pronounced, medically improbable limp, because, well, shoulder wounds work in mysterious ways, don’t you know? Science says so!
Growing web of lies notwithstanding, our leads do finally get the chance to sit and talk. Jang-hyun confesses that the rumors are true: he was born a government slave. For a moment, Gil-chae’s snobbery silently wars with her better instincts — but in the end, all she says is it would have been nicer if he hadn’t purchased a title. He could have been her servant! There’s still time to forsake my rank, smirks Jang-hyun. Then, growing serious, he asks the million-dollar question: why did Gil-chae abandon him that day? There’s a long, weighted pause. I couldn’t bring myself to have you, admits Gil-chae. I knew you could go on without me. Jang-hyun meets her gaze, deliberately. What, he asks, makes you think that?
Alas, this is when our tête-à-tête grows a few too many heads. Lurking near a tree is Gak-hwa — and she’s none too pleased. But behind her stands Ryang-eum… with an arrow aimed at her back. For a moment, he truly does consider firing. But he backs down. Seconds later, he finds himself at the mercy of Gak-hwa’s guards, with a warning for Jang-hyun: she will summon him soon. When she does, it’s to deliver a seriously spiky ultimatum. If Gil-chae doesn’t go back to Joseon… well, she of course wouldn’t harm her. But all kinds of things can happen to a captive, quite by chance. In an instant, Jang-hyun seizes her by the throat. Gak-hwa remains impassive. I understand your fears, she says. It’s exactly how I felt when you were in danger.
Meanwhile, Ryang-eum, still reeling, goes in search of Gil-chae. There’s only one way he can convince her to leave. Handing her the dagger she lost at Ganghwa-do, he confirms that Jang-hyun was her savior that day. Injury, illness, death — there’s no end to what he’s risked for her. At this point, it is certain to me, concludes Ryang-eum. You are a curse to Jang-hyun. Gil-chae retreats to her room, torturing herself with a thousand recollections. All her scornful words. All the times she’d rejected him. Hiding her head, she abandons her pride and weeps.
When morning comes, she’s made up her mind. She won’t be leaving. If she’s a curse to Jang-hyun, then she’s also the only cure. And so, their walks in the Woods of (Comparative) Emotional Honesty continue. With a pang, Gil-chae remembers how arrogant she once was, and Jang-hyun laughs. You don’t even stutter in my presence, he deadpans. The rumors must be true: you’re the ninety-nine-tailed fox. Now that’s a comeback he must have been waiting years to deliver. Her laughter dies as he catches her by the wrist, pulling her into a hug. Stay with me, he says. You needn’t be faithful to a husband who left you.
Gil-chae freezes at the mention of Won-moo. And yet, she says, later that evening, whilst it’s true I had a husband — and a father, and a younger sister — I also have a man who saved my life. I’d die for you. However, she begins — and then stops. Jang-hyun moves closer. However, he asks, you can’t love me? I never wanted you to die for me. Gil-chae lets him lean towards her, a breath away from a kiss. And he does kiss her — on the cheek. He lets the moment stretch, willing her to close the distance. But soon, a call comes from outside. There’s urgent news from the palace.
The Khan is dead. Succeeding him is his six-year-old son — and PRINCE DORGON (Sohn Tae-yang) as his regent. Regime change is terrible news for Joseon: plenty of Qing higher-ups support its dissolution as a nation. Jang-hyun’s best hope lies in buttering up General Yong with promises of the crown prince’s favor. Hopefully, the prospect of juicy trade deals can lure him into a pro-Joseon stance. Unfortunately, General Yong is the bearer of worse news: Dorgon has granted Gak-hwa authority over the Joseon captives. Suddenly, her threats look a lot more plausible. Soon, she delivers the worst ultimatum yet: if Jang-hyun doesn’t send Gil-chae back, she’ll make life misery for those he saved.
Jang-hyun looks over the promissory notes made by the grateful captives — the ones Yang-chun collected — and clenches his fists. There’s no evading this. It’s the one thing he won’t sacrifice. With Qing victory over the Ming looming closer by the day, the captives are as good as forgotten. Gak-hwa can do what she likes.
Perhaps he’s gotten a little too used to lying to Gil-chae. Either way, he chooses the most painful solution possible. The crown prince, he tells her, has been given permission to visit Joseon. I want you to return with them. When she protests, he interrupts. I clung to you, he says, almost to the brink of death. For that, I have no regrets — but now, nothing remains in my heart. Plus, he adds, going for broke, I’m tired of you pushing me away. Gil-chae’s expression turns mutinous. What, she asks, if I said no? But Jang-hyun knows her — knows her weak spots — and his reply is coldly calculated. Has Gil-chae no shame? She’s married. It’s enough: Gil-chae is left blinking back tears of shock.
When the time comes for Gil-chae to leave, Jang-hyun doesn’t trust himself to see her. Instead, as is becoming their habit, they say their goodbyes through the door. I feel pathetic admits Gil-chae, ruefully, but Jang-hyun stops her. I never once thought of you that way, he says. When you go home, I want you to live with all the fanfare and extravagance expected of Gil-chae. Yes, she agrees. I’ll be brave. I’ll live a good life. But when the Joseon delegation leaves, she can’t help but look for Jang-hyun — to no avail. He’s there, of course. But he arrived just late enough to miss her gaze.
Now, Jang-hyun is left facing Gak-hwa. She doesn’t flinch or hesitate — just coolly meets his eyes. You must want to kill me, she says. Yes, he agrees, shortly. If only you would allow me. Gak-hwa doesn’t seem surprised. She only replies that it’s curious — Jang-hyun cared about those captives when the entire nation of Joseon forgot about them. He just can’t seem to resist lowly and pathetic things. Jang-hyun’s reply is hollow: I don’t care about other people’s business.
Gak-hwa offers this a silent refutation. She backs away until she is leaning against the railing, a large drop below her. Then, she lets her weight shift. Jang-hyun seizes her arm before either have time to think, hauling her back. The two stare at one another, breathless — Gak-hwa, disbelieving; Jang-hyun, realizing just how serious she’d been. I’m scared, she finally confesses. I’ve never lived in a world without my father. I know you despise me, but I’m begging you — let me be by your side.
Across the border, Gil-chae reunites with her family in a flurry of hugs and tears. If there’s one consolation to all the heartbreak, it’s this. However, outside, she is met with a wall of hostility. She can hardly cross the street without hearing loud speculation about whether or not she was raped. When one man is foolish enough to insult Jong Jong, she slaps him square in the face. But there are worse humiliations, ones she can’t face head-on. Her loved ones insist she’s too strong to have been assaulted; Gil-chae squirms, unable to tell them that wasn’t the point at all. Meanwhile, Won-moo is living with another woman — and that woman is pregnant.
The nightmare reaches its peak when Gil-chae’s father, still only semi-lucid, visits her while she’s sleeping. He too has heard the rumors. What can I do, he says, now that your life has become this hell? With sick inevitability, answer occurs. Slowly, he wraps his hands around her throat. It is only when Gil-chae wakes in terror, managing to croak out his name, that he releases her in horror.
The next day, Gil-chae meets with Won-moo. First, she asks if she can have some of the daggers their company crafted. She needs them for self-defense. Next, she has something to say. Yes, she was sold. She endured great abuse at the slave market. That was not her fault, and isn’t a good reason for divorce. No — there’s only one thing she’ll apologize for. She met Jang-hyun again… and she gave him her heart. That, she says, is why I am divorcing you.
Now there’s the Gil-chae defiance I know and love! I live for those moments where she squares her jaw and decides she simply won’t stand for this. I also liked seeing Gil-chae and Jang-hyun’s tentative attempts at honesty — especially Gil-chae taking two steps forward, one step back: dropping the conversation when it gets hard, only to pick it up again, and again. Meanwhile, that last scene with Gak-hwa was a hit for me. Sure, she’s your hackneyed jealous second lead, but I’m fascinated by her sharp edges. When they make it less about Jang-hyun, and more about how awful yet fascinating she is, I’m on board.
Another moment that struck me was that scene with the farmers singing. It’s a symbol of solidarity for the workers, and of homesickness for the court — but of course, the nobles observing them and waxing nostalgic don’t actually lift a finger to help. The Joseon they long for is a society with its own hierarchy and exploitation. Gil-chae, of course, does help. Still, she too has her thoughtless moments; Jong Jong is at the mercy of her commands. They’re staying? Jong Jong can live with that! They’re leaving? Of course Jong Jong will come! Their relationship has its own sharp edges — and it was fascinating to see Jong Jong choose Gil-chae over Goo Jam. This show has me invested in so many relationships, all of them layered.
As for our romance… to be honest, I wish we had fewer external obstacles (e.g. all the forced separation), and more of a focus on the internal ones — the ones that come from Gil-chae and Jang-hyun as people. Nonetheless, I’m still hopelessly rooting for them. Maybe next week, they’ll finally fight for one another!
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