“Won’t he be annoyed?”
At Jae-ha’s hesitant question, Hyo-min waved a hand.
“Nah, it’s fine. If anything, I’ll explain it for you. That uncle loves anyone who loves drinking—you’ll definitely get along. He’s got tons of rare liquor, second only to our Lord. He loves alcohol so much that even our Lord entrusted him with handling the Hwanggwaju.”
That was an unexpected jackpot. To be introduced to the one managing the Hwanggwaju! Jae-ha had to stifle the smile threatening to break out.
“…Really?”
Seeing even a flicker of interest from the usually indifferent Jae-ha, Hyo-min brightened and began chattering, eager to win him over.
“Of course! Anyone curious about alcohol goes to Uncle Nam-yeon. Who knows, he might even tell you what other drinks Lord Cheonrok liked besides the Hwanggwaju.”
“His name’s Nam-yeon?”
“Yep. He’s probably working right now… just go straight down the second-floor corridor, turn right, and then… one, two… the fifth room. Drop this off for me, and I’ll take you there.”
Her eyes sparkled with excitement. Having gotten everything he needed, Jae-ha smiled and reached out to ruffle her hair.
“Thanks.”
It was the kind of easy gesture only someone who instinctively knew how to win people over with touch could make. Hyo-min’s cheeks turned bright red.
“But, Oppa… you’re really handsome. Do you have a girlfriend?”
Her face was tinged with expectation, and just as Jae-ha opened his mouth to reply, a sharp voice rang out from the kitchen they were nearing.
“Hyo-min! What took you so long? The food’s going to burn!”
“Ah! Sorry!”
Startled, Hyo-min bolted into the kitchen, with Jae-ha and Hae-hyun following behind.
“Here’s the seasoning!”
“Goodness. Any later and I’d have scolded you until you cried. Oh, you even brought potatoes—thank you.”
The woman who had been scolding Hyo-min soon noticed the two newcomers and bowed. Meanwhile, Hyo-min chattered happily as if she’d carried something far heavier than just bags.
“They’re new arrivals. I saw them carrying things to help out, so I brought them along. Impressive, right? They’re stronger than our oppas!”
“Oh dear, the oppas will be hurt if they hear that.”
As the warm conversation flowed, Jae-ha quietly wondered when he could slip away. That’s when Hae-hyun edged closer and muttered under his breath.
“Why do you even respond?”
“What?”
Jae-ha turned to him, bewildered, but Hae-hyun didn’t so much as glance his way. He just stared stubbornly ahead, brows drawn, cheeks slightly puffed—sulking, plain as day.
Then he spoke again, his voice tight.
“Why do you talk to her so much?”
There was no context, no explanation. Jae-ha blinked, thrown off. It wasn’t like they’d been chatting endlessly. He let out a sigh.
“I didn’t. We just talked.”
“You sound like a playboy.”
The blunt remark was followed by a sharp inhale, as if Hae-hyun were the one offended.
“You smile and chat with anyone, flatter them, pat their heads, touch them, hug them whenever you want, whisper in their ears.”
“…Me?”
Put that way, it did sound like he was some shameless flirt. But when had he ever done that? Dazed, Jae-ha looked back, only to meet Hae-hyun’s sharp glare, his eyes brimming with resentment.
“Do you realize how serious things are right now? At this rate, you might not even make it back home. And you’ve been like this all day—”
He cut himself off, lips pressed tight, but his gaze alone was enough to pass judgment.
Had he not heard a word about the Hwanggwaju and the Cheonrok? Jae-ha wanted to argue, but Hae-hyun’s expression was too grim. This wasn’t just about the moment—it was the kind of reaction that came when things had been piling up for a while.
To be fair, Hae-hyun had been doing more than Jae-ha, who’d barely lifted a finger. Still, to make it sound like jealousy while scolding someone for slacking off—that took talent. A little unfair, but Jae-ha gave in.
“Alright. I’ll be careful.”
Even then, Hae-hyun muttered darkly.
“You shouldn’t touch people you don’t have feelings for.”
Touch them? The only time Jae-ha remembered touching him was when he’d clung to Hae-hyun after hiding in the box. …Well, sure, he didn’t have feelings. But Jae-ha did. Wait—was he saying this on purpose, knowing full well?
There was plenty he wanted to say, but his mind stalled. The way Hae-hyun sulked—aloof, prickly, absurd—was infuriating, ridiculous, exasperating… and, annoyingly, a little endearing.
So what slipped out was half a tease.
“Who says I don’t?”
It wasn’t a lie. Hae-hyun might not, but Jae-ha did.
“…What?”
Suddenly, Hae-hyun’s face went pale. Was that really something to panic about? Jae-ha’s bravado fizzled into awkwardness, and he quickly changed the subject.
“Forget it. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
That only made Hae-hyun look worse—his face drained to the color of a corpse. But by that point, Jae-ha had given up trying to figure him out. One wrong word and who knew what bizarre nonsense would come out next.
He averted his gaze, just as Hyo-min finished her chat with the woman and bounded over to grab his hand.
“Oppas, you’re free now, right? I’ll show you something good.”
Hearing such a sly line from someone who looked like a high schooler was jarring, like listening to a fifty-year-old man. Jae-ha gave a dry chuckle.
“How old are you?”
“Me? A hundred and seventy.”
“……”
So she was way older. Longevity seemed to be the Celestial Realm’s trademark. At an age that outlived middle-aged men three times over, Jae-ha nodded gravely, wondering if he should start speaking more formally.
“Sorry, but we’re really not free—we’ve got things to—”
“Come on, it’ll only take a moment. You won’t regret it.”
No matter how he tried to decline, she insisted, tugging him along. Well, he couldn’t exactly fight back against an elder… He regretted asking her age. Grimacing, Jae-ha let himself be pulled, sneaking a glance at Hae-hyun. After that earlier scolding, he half-expected him to sulk about the delay.
But instead of sulking, Hae-hyun was deep in thought, staring hard into space. He followed without resistance, so he wasn’t zoning out, but… what was going through his head?
“Seriously, I’m busy—”
“Tada! Look over there!”
Without even leaving the kitchen, Hyo-min pointed at the window in the corner. Jae-ha turned his eyes to the night outside—and was struck first by the countless lanterns.
“…Beautiful.”
The word slipped out before he knew it. The dark garden was lit with round lamps strung close together like candy drops. Their golden glow pushed back the shadows of trees and flowers, and at the center stood a pavilion with a splendid roof. The scene was so romantic it looked straight out of a film.
“Right? And look there—that’s Lord Yeomjeong. To the right are Lord Tamlang and Lord Cheonbu.”
Oh, right. There was a banquet tonight. It clicked a beat late. At this hour, only the Lord of the castle and his guests would be feasting so lavishly—the very reason everyone else had been worked to exhaustion.
The pavilion was too far from the kitchen window to see clearly, but Jae-ha could make out several figures seated there. My eyesight is 4.0… I am Mongolian… he whispered to himself as he squinted—and even spotted someone who looked like Su-min. No wonder he hadn’t shown up; he’d been dragged there.
“And look over there.”
This time, Hyo-min pointed opposite the pavilion. It was closer to the main fortress, but from where they stood, the angle made it hard to see. Leaning a little, Jae-ha glimpsed a broad open square—not as dazzling as the pavilion, but spacious all the same.
At that moment, he felt a warm weight press against his back.
“Where?”
It was Hae-hyun. His tone was casual, but he leaned over Jae-ha’s shoulder to look out too. Their backs touched, shoulders brushing, his head close enough to graze Jae-ha’s. Too close.
