It’s one step forward, two steps back this week. Or in the case of our honorable judge, three steps back. While he grapples with the realization that he’s now playing second fiddle, the secret hanging between our main couple sends them backpedaling into separation angst.
EPISODES 9-10
One thing I love about this drama is that it doesn’t just use its reveals as mere fodder for shock value — instead, it follows through, weaving a rich tapestry of fully-formed characters. Building on last week’s shocking reveal of Eun-soo’s whereabouts, we’re given her backstory, and it’s heartbreaking.
Having been kicked out of her in-laws’ home after the disgrace of her family, Eun-soo had been at her wits’ end when Councilor Yoo rescued her. He’d fed her horrid lies about the royal family being responsible for her family’s downfall, shamelessly pretending to be a benevolent savior. Unaware of his true nature, and hellbent on avenging her family, Eun-soo had let Councilor Yoo coerce her into becoming a courtesan in the name of vengeance. Ugh, I thought I couldn’t despise this man any more than I already did, but clearly I was mistaken.
As our leads grow closer, the stakes climb higher. Judge Choo’s abrupt death is a sobering reminder of how dangerous their undertaking is and how mortal they all are, and it affects Han-soo more than he’d like to admit. When he returns to find the merchant inn completely empty, he works himself into a panic, terrified that the worst has happened to Yeon-joo.
Thankfully everyone is safe — they just took a day off — and Han-soo pulls Yeon-joo into a relieved hug when he finds her. Gifting her a silver dagger, he expresses his wish for her to protect herself even when he’s not around. Then he fires her, fearing for her safety if she continues to go against Councilor Yoo. Naturally, Yeon-joo isn’t happy with this arrangement, but she doesn’t protest; she’s too preoccupied with her worries about her true identity.
It’s beginning to dawn on Han-soo just how formidable of an enemy Councilor Yoo is, which means there’s only one person who can go up against him — the king. Han-soo hatches a plan to find a client with a grievance so great that the only way to solve it is by lodging a complaint to the king, but he ends up thwarting his own plan. See, Han-soo is just too competent, and his brilliant brain simply keeps devising solutions for all his clients’ problems.
Just then, a visitor shows up on Han-soo’s doorstep — and who should it be but the king himself. To Han-soo’s utter shock, Hyul extends an offer of friendship. While Han-soo needs the king’s authority, Hyul also recognizes that he needs the ingenuity of our competent attorney.
In fact, he needs Han-soo’s help right now — the Sarim official KWON MYUNG-WOO (Lee Doo-seok) has been accused of his brother’s murder. It’s an absolute headache for Hyul, who’s been working hard to maintain the tenuous power balance between the Sarim and Hungu factions. He needs Han-soo to investigate and clear Official Kwon’s name.
And so, it’s murder mystery time! There’s the oddly calm wife, whose jealousy seems to outweigh her grief. She can’t stand the sight of the meek serving girl, who had been the apple of her late husband’s eye. Then there’s the simpleton servant and the capable housekeeper, the latter of whom had been out of town on the day of the murder.
At first, it’s difficult to pin down a culprit amongst the various testimonies, but an inspection of all the blades in the house soon reveals bloodstains on the serving girl’s dagger. However, Han-soo realizes something’s amiss — the supposed culprit was caught a bit too easily — and he begins to dig deeper.
The case never really gets elevated beyond a simple whodunnit, but it does give us a little nugget of comedy in the form of a cross-dressing Han-soo. As usual, his cleverly-laid trap catches the culprit in its jaws — this time, it’s a conniving nobleman, who manipulated the housekeeper into killing his belligerent employer. Unfortunately, the nobleman is Lord Choong-won, the king’s uncle. Whoops.
Han-soo quickly realizes that it’s a ploy by Councilor Yoo to besmirch the king’s name, since punishing Lord Choong-won would be a disgrace to the royal family. The housekeeper is executed and Lord Choong-won is sent into exile, but since there’s no law directly prohibiting the instigation of murder, Hyul has no choice but to let Councilor Yoo pressure him into demoting Official Kwon as a neat bookend to the case.
On the romance front, we have several significant developments this week. Having figured out that Ji-sun has been her benefactor all along, Yeon-joo gently but resolutely requests that he put a stop to it. She’s grateful for his generosity in funding the merchant inn, but she doesn’t have the capacity to spend any more time being distracted by other matters. It’s clearly an indirect rejection of his feelings for her, and Ji-sun recognizes it for what it is.
After Yeon-joo leaves, Ji-sun burns the letters he wrote to her, then changes his mind at the last second and pulls the letters out of the fire with his bare hand. Eun-soo witnesses this, and she rushes to wrap his burn with her handkerchief. A series of flashbacks imply that she developed feelings for Ji-sun while living in Councilor Yoo’s household, and she offers him comfort in the present. However, Ji-sun is too crestfallen to accept.
Devoted to a fault, Ji-sun chases after Yeon-joo. Entreating her to use him for her agenda, Ji-sun offers himself as a shield and a trump card against his father — he just wants to do whatever he can to help her by her side. Eyes red-rimmed with tears, he declares that he’s willing to be a nameless wildflower, as long as she’s the one who plucks it. Oh, Ji-sun…
Ji-sun has been respectful of Yeon-joo’s boundaries all this while, which makes it all the more alarming when he decides to deal with his rejection by asking his father to reinstate his betrothal to Yeon-joo. The late king had planned their engagement to keep Councilor Yoo’s power in check, since a royal son-in-law would not be permitted to become a government official. It may have been a political maneuver, but Ji-sun’s feelings for Yeon-joo were — and still are — genuine.
Given that Ji-sun hasn’t been all that subtle with his disdain for his father’s unscrupulous methods, it’s the first time that he’s leveraging on Councilor Yoo’s power to get his way, and it’s obviously uncharacteristic of him. Were it any other person, I’d accept that perhaps his emotions clouded his judgment, but Ji-sun? I hope there’s a tactic behind this move.
Ji-sun isn’t the only one feeling the sting of jealousy, since Han-soo is also starting to feel threatened by the proximity between Yeon-joo and his rival in love. When Yeon-joo reassures Han-soo that there’s nothing going on between her and Ji-sun, Han-soo’s relieved grin practically lights up the night sky.
Growing serious, Han-soo entreats Yeon-joo to prioritize her safety, reminding her that she’s already in Councilor Yoo’s crosshairs. In response, Yeon-joo muses that Han-soo has changed; he’s no longer as reckless as before, since he now has someone precious to protect. She’s glad for that, because it means he has a tomorrow to live for.
The more Han-soo expresses his love, though, the heavier Yeon-joo’s secret weighs on heart. In a private moment with Lady Hong, Yeon-joo finally breaks down, sobbing that she wants nothing more than to shed her princess title and live as So-won.
Though he’s still smarting from the rejection, Ji-sun keeps to his word and arranges a meeting between Han-soo and the princess, as per Yeon-joo’s wishes. However, an unexpected interception ends with Han-soo waking up in the middle of the forest, and when he finally gets back to the city, he finds himself arrested for the murder of Judge Choo. Someone — presumably Master Jo — planted the murder weapon in Han-soo’s boat.
Yeon-joo comes to his defense, but the guards don’t hesitate to roughhouse her, thinking her a mere commoner. Lady Hong and the rest of our motley crew can barely defuse the situation, until our reputable judge arrives. In an effort to stop the conflict from escalating, Ji-sun announces her identity as the nation’s princess — revealing her secret in front of everyone in the worst possible way.
I’ll admit, I was a little less invested in this week’s episodes — the tension didn’t feel as taut as previous weeks, and the case wasn’t as complex or compelling as it initially seemed. Given all the lingering shots of the accused Official Kwon, I kept expecting a major twist along the lines of brotherly betrayal or the like. Instead, the case wrapped up relatively predictably, and I thought it fell flat in the wake of last week’s case. Han-soo’s method of tricking the culprit into revealing his true colors was already done to better effect last week, so it didn’t feel particularly impactful this time around.
Furthermore, the drama dipped its toes into tropey territory this week, with Ji-sun stepping into the shoes of a typical second lead. It wasn’t badly executed by any means, and I certainly felt for his heartbreak, but it does feel like a pity to relegate him to unrequited pining. Perhaps this is just the calm before the storm, since all our major players are moving their chess pieces one by one. Hyul’s playing the long game by subtly instilling the idea that Councilor Yoo is not infallible, and I suspect Ji-sun has something up his sleeve too. Still, I’m already itching to get back to Joseon Attorney’s delightful brand of cat-and-mouse chases and tongue-in-cheek trope subversion.