A week had passed since then.
Jihan showed no signs of recovery, confining himself to the small pavilion. Whenever he had time, he took sitz baths, unable to sit properly, lying face-down on his stomach instead. His body was healing—slowly.
“The Young Master in the annex is as usual.”
That was all Maki, who knew the situation, reported after secretly moving between the annex and the small pavilion.
“He stays in the annex like before, never even glancing toward the small pavilion. He studies every day and sometimes goes to the back mountain to practice archery. The day before yesterday, he met up with his fellow scholars from the academy, went hunting, and shared drinks afterward.”
So he doesn’t remember. Jihan concluded as much. It was for the best. Goblin’s Water was a forbidden aphrodisiac—if its circulation were exposed, even Jihan wouldn’t escape punishment. Better that the other party had no memory of it.
It had been an unsightly accident. Neither of them would want to revisit it. And yet, the marriage agreement hadn’t been called off, so Seon would likely hold the wedding before taking office and rise smoothly through the ranks.
Jihan gritted his teeth but decided not to dwell on it. Getting entangled further could only bring more trouble.
Just as the wound was scabbing over and the bite marks were healing, Jihan received a rare summons from his father to share breakfast in the main pavilion. He had barely finished greeting him and taken his seat at the table when the door slid open, and Seon entered.
“……”
His throat went dry. This was the first time they’d seen each other since that incident. Seon’s face—still sharp, smooth, and infuriatingly perfect—approached the seat beside him without a hint of hesitation. The slightest rustle of his clothes sent a shiver through Jihan’s joints. His chopsticks, already clumsy in his grip, slowed further.
“I heard you’ve been unwell.”
When their eyes met, Seon grinned, breaking the silence first. Jihan, who had stiffened for a moment, met his gaze steadily and replied slowly.
“No, I’m all better now. Thanks… for your concern.”
“Of course I’d worry. You’re precious—and my sworn brother.”
………
As if you didn’t cause it.
Jihan pressed his lips together, glaring, when suddenly a rough cough tore from Grand Secretary Choi’s throat.
Kuh—kheh!
The wheezing, rasping sound was unsettling, as if rising from deep within him.
‘He’s been like this for two years now.’
Jihan’s expression darkened. It reminded him of how his grandfather had suffered from a severe cough before passing.
The coughing fit showed no sign of stopping, loud enough to fill the room, until a servant rushed in with a silk handkerchief.
“Hah… Nowadays, nothing I eat agrees with me.”
Grand Secretary Choi pressed the cloth to his lips, his voice noticeably hoarser than before. Seon asked calmly,
“Have you seen a physician?”
“His Majesty personally sent the royal physician to take my pulse. Still no improvement.”
“The weather’s been cold lately, and you’ve been overexerting yourself. Perhaps you should retreat to a place with cleaner air for a while?”
The Grand Secretary smiled warmly at Seon, as if proud. Disgusting. Jihan knew all too well that he was the one suffering for his inability to speak so gently, to offer such thoughtful words. His nature ensured he always came out the loser. His gaze sank as he watched the two of them.
Suddenly, the Grand Secretary turned to Jihan.
“Jihan.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Once Seon enters office, I plan to go to Hongju to convalesce.”
“…Hongju, you say?”
A chill slithered through him, like a blanket yanked away. Jihan forced himself to nod as if indifferent.
“The royal physician said staying in this ant’s nest of a capital would only worsen my condition. I need proper rest.”
“I see. Then I’ll accompany you, Father.”
The Grand Secretary looked at his eldest son with mild surprise. From the corner of his eye, Jihan caught Seon’s chopsticks freezing mid-motion. Undeterred, he continued,
“I’ll tend to you and study for the exams in peace. A quiet place with good air will help me focus.”
“So… you’d leave this household entirely in Seon’s hands?”
Let the bastard rot, for all I care. Jihan didn’t even bother responding.
After a long pause, the Grand Secretary shook his head.
“Your filial piety is commendable, but the Choi clan must have at least one heir in the capital. Provided, of course, you don’t lose focus again—drowning yourself in drink and friends while neglecting your studies.”
“…………”
“Without regard for seniority, set aside that pride of yours and try living harmoniously with Seon in the capital.”
Jihan stayed silent.
Whose son are you, really? Choi’s? Or Kim’s?
The way he doted on that bastard—who couldn’t even claim a place in the Choi family registry—as if he were his true heir… The words lodged in Jihan’s throat like thorns.
“If even my elder brother leaves for Hongju, who will I rely on here?”
“…………”
“Eat, hyung.”
That snake. Jihan scowled at the side dish placed on his rice—bamboo shoot salad, something he despised and never touched. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Seon’s lips curl slightly as he deliberately took a bite of the grilled croaker he’d been picking at and dropped it onto Seon’s bowl. Seon chuckled and ate it without hesitation.
Even in that stifling, awkward silence, the Grand Secretary watched the two young masters with satisfaction before changing the subject.
“Speaking of which, Seon—how have you been spending your days? Before you enter office and marry, you should enjoy yourself while you can.”
“As always. Studying and practicing archery.”
“Hah! Ever the model of discipline. But a man shouldn’t be too rigid—it’s nothing to brag about.”
“Yes. Actually…”
Seon chose his words carefully.
“Tonight, my fellow scholars invited me to Chaehonggak in the capital.”
The Grand Secretary brightened.
“Oh? And will you go?”
“They tease me endlessly for treating women like stone. Might as well show up once and put them in their place.”
“Hahaha! True, true! The moment our Seon arrives, all the courtesans’ attention will be on him. Wait—this isn’t the time for jokes. I should send word to the madam at Chaehonggak ahead of time. Tell her to treat my son—no, my second son—with the utmost care.”
Seon feigned embarrassment, a faint smile playing on his lips. Of course it was an act. No one knew that better than Jihan. His fingers went cold. He chewed his food repeatedly, struggling to swallow.
“Then you won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“No.”
“And remember—moderation in all things. The Prime Minister wouldn’t approve if a bastard child appeared before the wedding.”
Hardly breakfast-table conversation. Jihan silently mixed his rice with water, forced down a few more spoonfuls, then pushed back his chair and stood.
***
After breakfast, he returned to the small pavilion, his mind uncharacteristically restless.
He aimlessly flipped through neatly arranged books and scrolls, then pulled out his layered robes, spreading them across the floor. Only to realize he had nowhere to go, no one to meet. Defeated, he sank onto the embroidered cushion.
‘Was that his way of telling me we’re even?’
Whatever the case. Just as the assault had been an irreversible humiliation for Jihan, it must have gone against Seon’s will as well. Yet an inexplicable unease clung to him like dust in the air.
‘The man who’d never shown the slightest interest in women suddenly announcing he’d visit a pleasure house—proof enough.’
None of his business. Whether Seon played the virtuous scholar or the dissolute playboy no longer concerned him. He steeled himself, but his mood only soured further. Everything felt wrong. Everything.
And indeed, ever since that night, their positions had reversed. Now Jihan was the one hiding in his room, avoiding Seon’s sight, bolting at the mere thought of facing him, sleepless night after night.
‘…I’m the one losing sleep over this, tormented by it. And he has the nerve to go carousing with his friends at a brothel?’
That was what rankled.
Jihan hugged his knees, letting out a hollow laugh.
That afternoon, the entire household buzzed with excitement. The Young Master of the annex, now grown, was venturing out for his first night of pleasure! Under the head maid’s direction, they prepared new layered robes dyed in auspicious colors, quilted cotton vests, and sashes—all while the racket carried clear to the small pavilion’s walls.
Seon left the house to enjoy his first taste of the floating world.
Around then, the servant boys shrieked with delight—snow!
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
