Chapter 39
“What are you doing sitting here all alone?”
Yun-seo, who hadn’t heard anyone approach, flinched at Gyeong-ae’s voice and turned around. Standing at the doorway, Gyeong-ae looked alternately at Yun-seo and the pouch he had been holding moments ago, then came over and sat down.
“It doesn’t seem to be going well from the looks of it.”
“I’ve still made quite a bit of progress.”
“How can you do well when your mind is elsewhere?”
She picked up the pouch with her fingertips, examined the crude embroidery as though it were something bizarre, and then set it down.
Thinking it would be good to take a break now that Gyeong-ae had arrived, Yun-seo poured tea into a cup. After taking a sip of the lukewarm, bitter tea, he felt as though he had stepped back into reality.
“Do you think that man will return?”
But Gyeong-ae’s question pulled Yun-seo back into a world of anxious thoughts. Trying to hide his agitation, he forced a smile.
“Of course. You heard him too. He said he’d be back.”
“Those three days are nearly over now.”
“…He left in such a hurry that he didn’t specify the timeframe. If it’s three days including that day, he should come today, but if it’s three days from that day, he’ll come tomorrow.”
As he shrugged with feigned composure, Gyeong-ae stared intently at him. Her eyes seemed to pierce through him, making it impossible to maintain eye contact. As he averted his gaze to the teacup, he heard a soft sigh.
“Well. What you say might be true. That man did seem quite fond of you that day at the plum blossom garden.”
“Really?”
Yun-seo’s face brightened as he quickly raised his head. There was a desperate light in his expression, characteristic of someone who had fallen into an innocent love but faced an insurmountable wall ahead. Seeing this, Gyeong-ae’s eyes settled into a troubled shade.
“Yes. How could I not recognize the manner of a man who growls preemptively at anyone who might covet what’s his?”
“So in your opinion, sister…”
“Child, if you and that man were nothing to each other, I would have agreed with his promise to return. But since that’s not the case, I don’t trust him.”
Yun-seo couldn’t quite understand what Gyeong-ae meant by saying this. Confused, he waited for her to elaborate, though part of him didn’t want to hear it, creating a contradiction that made his fingertips curl inward.
Unlike her cold and firm beginning, she now showed a hesitant expression and swallowed a sigh. Her gaze made Yun-seo feel as though he were looking at a sister he had never had, and his heart swelled with emotion like muddy water filling his chest.
“What promise did he make to you?”
“…”
“Did you get any assurance of his feelings?”
“He… he probably doesn’t even know how I feel. We’re just, still…”
“How much do you know about that man? Do you even know what kind of person he is? What urgent matter made him leave so suddenly?”
Faced with these rapid-fire questions, Yun-seo couldn’t give a single satisfactory answer and merely moved his lips. He knew Hwi was the heir who had to lead a trading company, a good person who had unhesitatingly extended a hand to help him, and a splendid man he couldn’t help but hold in his heart during their time together.
Though he had thought he knew Hwi well, strangely, all of that now felt abstract. Feeling troubled, he drank his tea in one gulp, but the blockage in his heart showed no sign of clearing.
“If that man truly valued you, you would be angry with me now and storming out. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s not it. He truly is a good person. It’s just that I haven’t asked him many things, and he has his place while I have mine, so I didn’t dare…”
“Do you trust him?”
“I do.”
He believed that even if Hwi returned late, he wasn’t the kind of person who would easily break his word. If he failed to keep his promise, it must be due to unavoidable circumstances, not a simple change of heart. This trust was proven by the time they had spent together.
“Have you ever properly looked at the sword he carries?”
“…What?”
“Though it had no decorations, the carving on the hilt was exquisite. It wasn’t the work of an ordinary person. I wonder if there are even two such craftsmen in this country.”
Though Yun-seo had seen Hwi wielding his sword, he had never examined the hilt closely. Even if it were a precious item, he didn’t see what was strange about it. A man with immense wealth could surely adorn himself from head to toe with expensive things.
Still failing to grasp her point and foolishly furrowing his brow, Yun-seo listened as Gyeong-ae took a sip of tea and continued as if releasing a breath.
“There are things in this world that cannot be obtained with money alone. So the conclusion splits into two possibilities.”
“…”
“First: That man is not a simple merchant.”
Yun-seo shook his head. Hwi was a wealthy man who even owned an inn. So in a different sense from what Gyeong-ae meant, it was true that he was not a simple merchant.
It wouldn’t be strange at all if Hwi possessed a one-of-a-kind item. Was there anything in this world he couldn’t have? Beyond simply the extent of his wealth, Yun-seo couldn’t imagine Hwi being unable to obtain something he wanted.
“Second: He has so much wealth overflowing that he can obtain even what money can’t buy.”
After hearing these two conclusions, Yun-seo actually felt relieved. Wasn’t this what he already knew? There was nothing more or less to it. Seeing Yun-seo’s somewhat relieved expression, Gyeong-ae clicked her tongue as if pitying him.
“In truth, it doesn’t matter whether it’s the first or the second.”
“…”
“You know well that there’s no guarantee such a remarkable man would give his heart to a mere servant.”
This too was a fact he knew all too well, with nothing more or less to add. Though he had thought he understood this already, Gyeong-ae’s words threw Yun-seo’s heart into a simmering pit of fire. There was a world of difference between what one suspected oneself and what another person confirmed.
In Gyeong-ae’s eyes too, the idea of Hwi giving his heart to someone like him must seem absurd. But hadn’t he already settled this matter? He had to leave, and Hwi had to stay. So regardless of his own feelings or Hwi’s feelings, none of it mattered. He just… just didn’t want to part like this.
Yun-seo forced a smile and nodded, but he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from trembling slightly. Gyeong-ae gazed at him with eyes full of sympathy and reached out to grasp the back of his hand.
“Don’t trust a man’s promise.”
“…”
“Being a man yourself, my words might sound annoying to you, but most men are cunning; they take everything without leaving anything behind the moment they give their heart, always looking for a way to escape in the end.”
He wanted to deny it, but the memory of that kiss once again left a residue like a stain that wouldn’t wash away no matter how hard he tried. Hwi, who had given no indication of his feelings during the entire journey back to the guesthouse, and who had subsequently approached him with apparent ease, speaking to him and touching him.
“Do you know why there are more women here? Even though both men and women can become Yongrim.”
Hwi was the first and only person Yun-seo had spent time with away from home. Having experienced the world through Hwi, he knew no other way. For some reason, Yun-seo was angry at himself for not being able to assert that Hwi was different from such men.
“If that man doesn’t come before today ends, you should leave first. If you can avoid being the one who’s abandoned, you should do so. I’m saying this because you feel like a younger brother to me.”
Gyeong-ae’s sincerity was palpable, and that made it painful—painful because he could sense how deep her wounds were from her desperate wish that he not fall into memories of abandonment. And painful because he might soon attach his own name to those emotions.
“Thank you, sister. But there’s still time left.”
“…”
“And I haven’t… finished this yet.”
Lifting up the pouch and smiling brazenly, Yun-seo saw Gyeong-ae, who had been staring at him silently, eventually smile.
“Yes. If only to spare your injured hands, you should finish it.”
“It seems I chose something too difficult. If I had known the tortoise shell pattern would be this challenging, I would have chosen something else.”
“Tadpoles never know how small their pond is. Oh, about that slum area you mentioned. I reported it to the Yongrim that day too.”
“Ah, you did? Thank you. I meant to ask but completely forgot.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m the one who should be thankful.”
With a grunt, she rose from her seat. Yun-seo saw her off with a deliberately bright expression.
As he stood in one place, blankly watching her walk away with vigorous steps, Yun-seo suddenly noticed that dusk had already fallen over the mountainside.
The gentle breeze made the green mulberry leaves rustle. He could see the villagers returning to their homes one by one. Along with the twilight, peace settled over the jagged rooftops. Yun-seo turned around, engulfed in the feeling of being a foreigner, disconnected despite being physically present.
Entering the room again, he saw the pouch sprawled on the table. The blue-green silk was beautiful, but the embroidery thread formed an unrecognizable shape. A fairly good pouch had been rendered shabby by the poor needlework.
Feeling no motivation whatsoever, Yun-seo sat down in the chair almost collapsing into it and looked out the window helplessly. Despite his firm belief that Hwi would definitely return, his heart creaked like a makeshift wooden bridge. Unable to tell whether what he felt was trust or desperate hope, Yun-seo gently closed his eyes, shutting out his view.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
