Our Blooming Youth 2023 Episode 17-18

It’s settled: Tae-gang has a less-than-scrupulous twin. But our Famous Four have further deductions; Jae-yi’s cracked the case of her missing memories. That peony incense that keeps cropping up in the unlikeliest of places? It must be laced with opium. Take the power of that soporific concoction, and sprinkle in a smidgen of hypnotic suggestion, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for manipulation. It’s what convinced the head shaman of the prophecy — and what set Young off on a murder spree. Jae-yi wasn’t hypnotized, but she inhaled the fumes, hence her scattered recollections.

Myung-jin’s got an announcement to make, and nothing will stop him — not even Ga-ram looking like she’d rather eat the autopsy handbook. From henceforth, he declares, they will be known as the Shield Investigation Team! And who better than to lead it (here, he smirks at the crown prince) than himself? Hwan snarls, whereupon Myung-jin gleefully pronounces that his skill with a shovel puts him leagues ahead in the leader stakes. He’s having way too much fun with this. But he’s also using his newfound knowledge for good: tenderly, he insists on escorting a skittish Ga-ram home. Cute!

Unfortunately the, er, incense is about to hit the proverbial fan. That night, Hayeon makes her fatal way to Monk Moojin, surrendering her brother to his care. Sure enough, out come the peony petals; under the monk’s hypnotic influence, Myungan is urged to forget about the prince and the peach. Unsuspecting, Hayeon waits outside. Soon, there’s a blade at her throat. Tae-gang’s evil twin has made his entrance.

But the queen trusted too far in Hayeon’s discretion: our eminently sensible princess brought a protector. Out of the shadows leaps Sung-on! He launches into combat with Tae-gang’s sinister lookalike, and with a little help from Hayeon — boy, can that girl wield a blade in a pinch — his opponent is soon bloodied and beaten. But, alas, he’s crafty: with the old handful-of-dust-in-the-eye maneuver, he flees. Still, his shoulder’s wounded… and Sung-on caught sight of his face.

Lingering in the shadows, Court Lady Kwon screws her courage to the stabbing place and wounds herself as alibi. Sung-on holds a blade to Monk Moojin’s throat, demanding answers. And he gets them. How could Monk Moojin stand by while the land was stained with the blood of innocents? He has one goal: to destroy the Yi family, and bring about utopia. This said, he seizes Sung-on’s sword — and plunges it into his own chest.

As Sung-on escorts the royal siblings to safety, Jae-yi questions Hwan about Tae-gang’s origins. Hwan first met him when he was an orphan cutting purses to survive on the streets. Together, he and Sung-on found him a foster family, teaching him how to write, shoot, and swing a sword. The day he passed the military exam was the proudest they’ve ever been. Hwan always insisted it wasn’t due to his show of noblesse oblige — Tae-gang would have lived an upright life if not for them. Turns out, there’s a twin study just waiting to test this hypothesis…

Sung-on bursts into the library to inform Hwan of Tae-gang’s supposed treachery — just as Tae-gang, original flavor, arrives. For the second time in several episodes, Tae-gang finds himself inexplicably accused of treason. Hwan and Jae-yi watch awkwardly as the man with 15% of the facts shakes his fist at the man with 0% of them. Finally, Hwan explains the twin factor of it all, using Tae-gang’s unpunctured shoulder as evidence. Poor Tae-gang is ordered away, while his world presumably tilts on its axis.

Across the palace, the queen grieves for her old ally Monk Moojin. Court Lady Kwon, wound still leaking, urges her to take care: if it all goes wrong, she herself will take the blame. Horrified, the queen seizes her hand. You must live, she urges, and return to your homeland. But Court Lady Kwon is adamant: in the grand scheme of things, she’s a pawn. The only way that justice will be served is if the grand prince takes the throne.

Later, the queen ruminates on what must be done. She wishes Hwan were of her blood. But, as is, he must heed the ghost letter… the one that she sent. Plastering on a warm smile, she prepares for her guest to arrive: Sung-on. She has an anonymous letter to share — one she’s positive is just a scurrilous rumor. Her informant tells her that Eunuch Go is Min Jae-yi! Ridiculous, right? After all, if the crown prince knew when he brought her to her household… well, surely he would have told Sung-on, no? (That tinkling sound you can hear in the background is Sung-on’s heart shattering into a million pieces.)

Meanwhile, a figure who looks very much like Tae-gang creeps out of the library. It’s TAE-SAN. He looks up — and meets the eyes of his long-lost twin. Tears well in Tae-gang’s eyes, but Tae-san stops him in his tracks. Pretend you don’t know anything, he orders. Soon, we’ll go back home. Let us talk then.

The door creaks open: it’s Jae-yi. She sees Tae-gang — and behind him, his twin. Tae-san springs for the door; Jae-yi leaps after him. But soon, Tae-gang seizes hold of her. Jae-yi screams in outrage. He’s an agent from Byeokcheon! Tae-gang, furious, slams her against the wall. His fingers meet her throat. All the resentment of the past few weeks coalesces into one moment: he squeezes; she chokes.

But then, Hwan rounds the corner! Seconds later, Jae-yi is sputtering but uninjured, and Tae-gang is appalled at himself. Sinking to the floor, he bolts out an apology. He wasn’t trying to kill her. He was frightened. He did know he had a twin, but he thought he died years ago… in Byeokcheon. As for why he never confessed? People from Byeokcheon were being thrown from the palace. He knew it would have reflected badly on Hwan. Hwan’s face softens — as does Jae-yi’s. I believe you, Hwan says. But you must leave the palace for now. I promise, I’ll send for you soon.

Of course, no amount of apologies will soothe Jae-yi’s sore throat — or make her feel safe in the library. Secretly, she props up chairs against the door to ward off intruders. But there’s already one inside: Hwan! By now, he’s wise to her habit of staying silent in the face of distress; he’s dropped in ahead of time to guard her. Or — sorry, no. He’s here to get some reading done. Yup. Jae-yi peers at him fondly. Hwan looks away. Then, he steals a glance at her. She looks away. Smitten as they are, I wouldn’t be surprised if this carried on all night. But there’s trouble in their tentative paradise: the day of Hwan’s marriage is close at hand. So-eun has been selected as his bride.

More complications arise: having been halfway to emotional hell and back, Sung-on pays a visit to Jae-yi. You must have suffered a great deal, he says. If I’d known, I’d have taken better care of you. Thank you — for being alive. Jae-yi’s eyes widen. The jig is up. But he was nice, she insists, carefully. He treated her with enough respect — the respect due to a eunuch. Regardless, she cannot marry him. Sung-on baulks at this. This charade is dangerous — for both her and Hwan. Besides, they’ve exchanged a letter of approval. They’re virtually married already. Jae-yi shakes her head. All she can wish for him is that he find someone else and be happy.

As Sung-on leaves, he encounters Hwan, who’s been fully aware of the delicate conversation taking place. You promised, says Sung-on, to return her to me. Hwan rightfully retorts that a woman isn’t an object. Sung-on’s reply is chilling. If she understands the law and her duty, he says, she’ll come back to me on her own. Never have I felt more like violently shaking a character. Sung-on! You had all my sympathy till now! Drop that nonsense right this second!

Jae-yi’s not the only one whose identity’s been compromised — but things are less fraught for Ga-ram. (Thank god. My girl deserves nothing but nice things!) After a clumsy slip-up where she refers to Jae-yi as ‘my lady’, Myung-jin seizes the moment. I know who you are, he assures her. I know who Scholar Park is, too. Ga-ram blinks: one of those things is news to her. Okay, sure, admits Myung-jin, he’s the crown prince — but hush, okay? If he knows we know, we can’t be friends anymore. Then, in a sneaky subject pivot, he tells Ga-ram she looked pretty when he saw her in a dress. Didn’t she mention something about being in love with him…? Flustered, Ga-ram objects. She — uh, just didn’t like to see him being bullied by Woodpecker Lady (may she rest in peace)!

Meanwhile, the gang tackle their latest lead. Ga-ram has remembered something crucial: moments before his death, Jae-yi’s father was drawing an odd red diagram. Hwan, looking over her reconstructed sketch, recognizes it — it’s a jikgeumdo! This special cypher is known only to the sender and its recipient. Through clever deduction, they realize the messenger must have been a judge of the Gaeseong office, and the recipient, Councilor Han. Alas, in the excitement of discovery, Myung-jin refers to Hwan by his royal title, then claps a hand over his mouth. So much for feigned ignorance and continued friendship! You had one job!

Soon, our heroes recover the letter. Now, it’s up to Hwan to speak with its recipient. Cutting straight to the point, he asks Councilor Han, can I consider you one of my people? Councilor Han stares at him, hard. I’ve already put everything on the line for you, he replies. Satisfied, Hwan hands him the letter. It’s about Song, leader of the Byeokcheon rebellion. We don’t hear what Councilor Han reads next — but whatever it is, it causes Hwan to bridle. What nonsense, he asks, is this?

Elsewhere, the queen tends to Myungan, whose hair has, overnight, turned a biologically implausible gray: mark of being drugged and hypnotized. But hair, the queen tells him, doesn’t matter. What matters is having a kind heart. That, she reminds herself, is what his true name means: Song Hyun. Later, in her chambers, she broods over a very particular fish. Your majesty. You know I’m rooting for you. But just what are you planning on doing with those eggs of madness, huh?

Whatever it is, Jae-yi’s halfway onto her. Sung-on is suspicious of Court Lady Kwon. This, in turn, makes her doubt the queen — despite Hwan’s initial outrage at the thought. Unfortunately, she’s about to get a taste of just what makes this royal chessmaster so formidable. Back at the library, she notices that her dagger is missing. Horrified, she races to find Hwan. He’s not in his room. But the ghost letter is — and it’s been amended. You will grow old without a wife, it now reads. You’ll die lonely without any children. Seizing the letter, she springs towards the royal villa. Inside, there’s a crumpled body lying bloodstained on the floor. It’s So-eun. And next to her? Jae-yi’s knife.

Oh, Jae-yi! Never has one woman been framed for quite so many murders! Turns out, in the palace, there’s no defending yourself with a dagger. Its dangers are far subtler than that. I can’t help but remember when she first entered the eastern palace — how it seemed full of boundless space. Now, she’s boxed in on all corners: whether it’s being gently yet inexorably pressured into an unwanted marriage, or the umpteenth homicidal frame-job. Still, even knowing just how ruthless she is, my heart goes out to the queen. Whatever move she makes, it’s knowing that the lives of everyone from Byeokcheon hang in the balance.

We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and only two episodes left. I’m a little nervous about how they’ll pull this one off! Still, I have every hope that one way or another, our trusty Shield Investigation Team will seek justice for Byeokcheon. As for our leads — this is one last test of trust. And look how far they’ve come! By arranging that house for her, Hwan proved he respects Jae-yi’s autonomy. By accepting his offer of protection, Jae-yi’s finally trusting Hwan with her vulnerabilities. The very fact that Jae-yi felt safe to voice doubts about the queen — and that Hwan, no matter how affronted he felt, let her, is testament to that. It’s been a long, slow burn, but I’m cheering for these lovestruck detectives!