“Hae-hyun, wait a second.”
“Yes?”
There was no time to explain. Jae-ha grabbed Hae-hyun without warning and yanked him over. Hae-hyun, looking dazed, stood up obediently, and the next instant Jae-ha threw open the lid of a nearby chest and shoved him inside.
Luckily, the chest was big enough to hold Hae-hyun’s broad frame. His eyes went wide in bewilderment, like someone suddenly forced into a crown prince roleplay.
Jae-ha slammed the lid shut on the chest they’d been inspecting. Thankfully, it closed with only a soft click, no rattling noise. He was about to head toward an empty chest nearby when footsteps suddenly drew close. Jae-ha’s eyes flickered in panic—he wouldn’t make it in time.
No chance to think. He dove into the same chest with Hae-hyun and pulled the lid shut.
The door burst open at that exact moment.
“Yeomjeong, you worthless bastard!”
A shrill female voice rang through the room. They had escaped discovery by the narrowest margin.
Hae-hyun could only stare at Jae-ha with wide, startled eyes, like a rabbit caught in a trap.
“S-Sunbae, wait—”
“Shh.”
Hae-hyun squirmed, but when Jae-ha pressed him firmly down, he froze. If he had moved any more, the chest would have rattled loud enough to give them away.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited?”
“Calm down, Tamlang.”
The woman who stormed in seemed to be the room’s owner. A man followed and tried to calm her, but she let out an irritated groan and stomped heavily across the floor.
From the sound of fabric brushing and a dull thump, she had sat on the edge of a bed. Jae-ha, straining his ears, realized they hadn’t sensed any intruders. Only then did he allow a little tension to ease from his body.
“Don’t move. If you do, we’re finished.”
Their faces were so close that they nearly touched. At his hushed whisper, Hae-hyun’s shoulders stiffened. Jae-ha finally became aware of just how tight their position was.
Even with a large chest, it was a cramped fit for two tall men. Jae-ha was practically sprawled against Hae-hyun’s chest, arms and thighs tangled, forehead brushing his hair. He could feel the steady thump of Hae-hyun’s heartbeat beneath his palm.
Well… so they were pressed together. But it wasn’t much different from when Hae-hyun clung to him in his sleep, was it? Hae-hyun had done it often enough—why couldn’t he? Besides, this was an emergency. Jae-ha hurriedly rationalized it.
“…I’ll cast a concealment spell.”
Hae-hyun whispered after a long silence, moving his hands slightly. A faint glow flickered at the edge of Jae-ha’s vision, then vanished.
“It’s done.”
Then silence. In the dark, Jae-ha let out a slow breath and relaxed. He was already weighing Hae-hyun down—no need to make it worse. As his body went slack, Hae-hyun quickly braced him by the waist, as if worried he might slide off.
It seemed Hae-hyun couldn’t hold the posture comfortably. Every so often, his muscles tensed, shifting awkwardly. Pressed so close, Jae-ha felt every bit of it.
“Sorry. Am I too heavy? Just a little longer.”
“No, that’s not it—”
Hae-hyun was fumbling for words when the woman’s voice came again, calmer now.
“Think about it, Cheonbu. I’ve waited a hundred years. Last time, he said he needed it elsewhere but swore I’d get it next time. And now he dares break his promise?”
“Maybe he changed his mind.”
“Ha! Easy for you to say.”
Her voice flared again, boiling with anger.
“What, did I demand he uproot the whole tree? I only wanted half of this year’s Baeksa fruit! We settled this a century ago!”
“Calm down, Tamlang.”
“How can I calm down? He claims the Hwanggwaju already has an owner—even though it hasn’t even been brewed yet! And he insists not a single drop of last year’s batch remains. Do you believe that?”
Jae-ha tilted his head slightly. This was the first time he’d heard mention of Hwanggwaju since arriving here.
“I need those Baeksa fruit too. This time, I won’t yield.”
She spat each word as if grinding it between her teeth, then shouted again. Something crashed—glass shattering against the wall.
“Yeomjeong broke his promise. Then I won’t keep courtesy either.”
“…Tamlang.”
“You saw it yourself, Cheonbu. Should I, Tamlang Seonggun, just accept such treatment?”
Her voice dropped like a blade, followed by silence. The man’s reply came heavy and firm.
“No, you shouldn’t.”
“There’s a limit to tolerating his arrogance. No matter how Yeomjeong twists his words, a promise is a promise.”
Her voice, once sharp and grating, now carried weight. It filled the room with solemn pressure.
“I’ll take the Baeksa fruit. Fresh or brewed into Hwanggwaju—one way or another, it will be mine.”
Even though he could only listen, Jae-ha felt the oppressive aura pressing against his skin. He curled up involuntarily. Then warmth spread across his back—Hae-hyun had reached out and rubbed it gently.
“It’s okay.”
His voice was soft, almost lulling, like soothing a child. Damn dog. Jae-ha cursed inwardly, yet the comfort sank in anyway, which only annoyed him further. Irritated, he ruffled Hae-hyun’s hair, fingers tugging through his strands.
Soon after, the woman declared she would confront Yeomjeong directly and stormed out with the man. Silence returned. Some time passed before the chest creaked open.
“……”
Jae-ha cautiously lifted his head, peeking out before pushing the lid all the way open. The room was messier than before—evidence of Tamlang’s outburst.
“Do you know who they were?”
Climbing out first, he offered his hand to pull Hae-hyun up and asked casually. To his surprise, Hae-hyun nodded.
“Tamlang Seonggun and Cheonbu Seonggun. They’re part of the Fourteen Celestial Lords, same as Lord Yeomjeong, the master of this castle. It seems they’re fighting over the Baeksa fruit.”
“So Yeomjeong promised them, then backed out?”
“Yes.”
“Then who’s the owner of the Hwanggwaju…?”
Jae-ha folded his arms, murmuring. If Yeomjeong had wanted to keep all the Hwanggwaju for himself, he wouldn’t have claimed it already belonged to someone else. That meant he really had promised it to somebody. From their conversation, several things became clear.
First, Lord Yeomjeong was arrogant and willful—breaking promises easily, hoarding Baeksa fruit, ignoring complaints, refusing to yield.
“Should we find out who Yeomjeong might’ve given the liquor to this year?” Hae-hyun asked, brow furrowing. Whoever could receive all of this year’s Hwanggwaju from such a man had to be formidable.
“No. It doesn’t matter who gets it now.”
Jae-ha shrugged. What mattered was where the Cheonrok had gone decades ago, when he left Seo-cheon to drink the Hwanggwaju of Myeongheoseong. Who Yeomjeong gifted it to this year was irrelevant.
“Let’s search other floors. We need to find the one managing the Hwanggwaju.”
Second, the Hwanggwaju really was brewed here in Myeongheoseong. Which meant records had to exist: yearly Baeksa harvests, brewing quantities, sales ledgers. If they found the manager, they’d know whether the Cheonrok had come here to purchase it.
“But… no, better to find the manager before saying this.”
Hae-hyun shook his head after hesitating.
“What is it? Tell me as we go.”
Jae-ha asked curiously. Hae-hyun wavered, frowning, but finally spoke.
There was one thing that still didn’t make sense. He had gone over it again and again, but the inconsistency gnawed at him.
“So… from the conversation, Lord Yeomjeong postponed Tamlang’s share because he’d already used up the previous stock of Hwanggwaju, right?”
Third—
“Right?”
Lord Yeomjeong had already used up all of his Hwanggwaju.
“Then where did it go?”
…And to whom?
