Seo Jae-ha blinked slowly, opening and closing his eyes. The kitchen window was too small—if he wanted to catch sight of Ju Hae-hyun behind him, he’d have to lean right in. But standing pressed up against a girl was out of the question. All he could do was hover nearby, pretending it was enough. He knew. …At least, his mind knew.
“Hey, look. You see those people?”
Hyo-min’s voice cut into his thoughts before they could sink too deep. She lowered her tone like she was sharing a secret, her words barely above a whisper.
“They’re the generals competing in tomorrow’s tournament. I guess the guests wanted to see them.”
Even here, being the underlings looks exhausting. The thought crossed Jae-ha’s mind, though he kept it to himself. Dragging them out before dawn when they had to fight tomorrow? They ought to be paid overtime and hazard pay both. Maybe living too long wore out their consciences along the way.
“I heard the guests asked for an introduction, said they were curious about the generals before the match.”
An “introduction,” huh. The fact they’d been summoned not to a proper pavilion but to the open yard made it obvious—they wanted a show. Stuffing themselves with good food while making others dance for their amusement. Jae-ha’s inner proletarian spat contempt over the whole thing.
The general standing in the yard must have just been called out. Even from a distance, his build was impressive. After bowing once, he drew the sword at his hip.
Before him stood a mannequin, roughly human-shaped—likely a training dummy.
For a moment, all was silent. Then the general’s blade swept through the air in a dazzling arc. Moonlight slid across the steel, and suddenly, pink shapes fluttered in, gathering around him. Straining his eyes—reminding himself he was Mongolian, dammit—Jae-ha guessed the shapes were flower petals.
The reason he wasn’t sure was simple: the petals glowed faintly on their own.
Like a spring rain of blossoms, the petals drifted and danced around the general. Each swing of his sword sent them rippling in arcs, ribbons tracing his blade’s path.
Holding still for a moment, as if savoring the petal storm, the general suddenly thrust forward. His quick, precise motion stirred a gust of wind at his back.
At once, the petals dove in, swarming the mannequin.
They weren’t petals anymore but knives. In seconds, the dummy was shredded and collapsed in tatters. Once it was done, the general sheathed his sword, bowed again, and left the yard.
“…What the hell was that?”
Jae-ha muttered, stunned. He’d expected swordplay, not swordplay plus magic. That was something out of a game or a wuxia film.
The shock was enough to make him forget Hae-hyun’s presence behind him for a moment. Magic and sword skills? That was cheating!
“Cool, right?”
Hyo-min’s eyes glittered as she asked. Yeah, it was cool—but more importantly, it meant if he ever ran into one of these generals, he needed to run the other way. Jae-ha tucked that life-saving information away like gold.
“Oh, that one must be General Beomgye!”
A new general stepped into the yard, and Hyo-min exclaimed from her perch at the window. Her voice carried a clear excitement she hadn’t shown for the last one.
Jae-ha refocused. With Lord Yeomjeong suddenly rising as a looming shadow in the background, it wouldn’t hurt to know what kind of powers his general used. Besides, hadn’t they already earned Beomgye’s grudge? Not that the man himself knew yet…
Not that Jae-ha had any plan for what to do if they met, but still—you never knew. His expression grew serious as he whispered to Hae-hyun, the one small advantage in this whole situation.
“Let’s just watch this one and go.”
Instead of answering, Hae-hyun leaned in closer, pressing his body against him as if to get a better look. At this rate, Jae-ha’s heartbeat would give him away. Unable to take it, he muttered under his breath.
“Hey, you’re heavy.”
“You carried a sack of grain, but now you’re complaining?”
Hae-hyun shot back lazily, lowering his arms around Jae-ha’s waist to brace against the window frame. The position was no different from an embrace.
Heat spread through him where Hae-hyun pressed close, making it impossible to ignore. Words failed him, and silence fell heavy between them—until Hae-hyun broke it again.
“Sunbae.”
“Yeah.”
Out in the yard, General Beomgye bowed and drew his sword. Jae-ha clung to the sight, desperate to focus.
“…Do you like someone?”
Seriously? Now? That’s cheating.
“…Out of nowhere?”
He couldn’t just snap at him, though. So he forced a playful tone, a beat late but quick enough—or so he convinced himself.
“You mentioned something like that with your noona before.”
He remembered that? And brought it up now? What a cursed combination.
“Did I…?”
Jae-ha muttered weakly. Honestly, he wasn’t even aware of what words were slipping out anymore.
In any other situation, he would’ve thought: he’s testing me because he’s interested. The setup was too obvious to miss. Hell, hadn’t he tried the exact same thing on Hae-hyun before?
But the problem was, Ju Hae-hyun had already made himself perfectly clear. He’d stomped out every chance of misunderstanding, even when Jae-ha asked again just to be sure. That tiny flicker of hope had been crushed flat.
It was the first time Jae-ha had ever been turned down so decisively. Which meant—even if he hadn’t realized it—he carried a quiet bruise whenever the subject came up.
He didn’t want any more illusions. Playing the fool alone had its limits.
“You said it was one-sided.”
Then why the hell are you asking me this?
The only conclusion was that he was just curious. And what could Jae-ha say to that? Admitting the obvious—it’s you—would be reckless. But lying didn’t sit right either.
“So you’re not dating yet?”
“…Right.”
That made Jae-ha tense. What if Hae-hyun said something idiotic, like offering to help? If he heard that, he might actually swing on him, crush or not. Just imagining it made his blood boil.
So his answer came out hard, pure instinct.
“I’m not gonna force it. Being clingy like that’s pathetic.”
He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or curse that he couldn’t see Hae-hyun’s face. Forcing his voice into a steady tone, he added:
“I don’t like that kind of thing.”
Now he didn’t even want to hear what Hae-hyun might say. Cutting off the conversation, Jae-ha tilted his head, pretending to focus completely on General Beomgye. Just in time too—Beomgye was already tearing through the wooden dummy…
“…Huh?”
A dumb sound slipped out before he could stop it. His dark eyes, meant to shut out nonsense, caught sight of the shredded mannequin.
It was savaged, slashed until it was a ruin. Between the cuts, golden light flickered like fire, flaring and fading in waves.
He’d seen this before.
“……”
If it hadn’t been wood—if it had been human flesh with blood flowing underneath—then instead of bare grain, the cuts would’ve left raw, bloody ridges. And inside…
“Impressive, right? They say General Beomgye’s strikes are nearly impossible to heal.”
Hyo-min whispered proudly. Jae-ha shut his eyes with a heavy sigh. That was the nastiest strike he’d ever seen.
“Oppa? What’s wrong?”
His expression must have looked grim, because Hyo-min caught it right away. Her glossy eyes blinked at him with concern.
“No, it’s just… the dummy looked like it was in pain.”
“What? Why the formal tone all of a sudden?”
She laughed, tapping his arm lightly. Then she added that General Beomgye knew his limits and didn’t attack recklessly. Jae-ha couldn’t bring himself to admit that this very general had once smacked the flower-keeper in Seo-cheon’s fields and run off like a thief. So he fumbled his way out of the topic instead.
At least Hae-hyun had stolen from that thief. That eased his guilt a little.
“Quite the spectacle.”
“Right? Looks like the guests are pleased. You can see it on their faces.”
Unlike Jae-ha, who longed for Mongolian eyesight, Hyo-min clearly had it—her gaze landed precisely where the guests sat.
“Hyo-min! If you’re free, come stir this for me!”
The woman from earlier called out again. Hyo-min let out a little groan, glancing between Jae-ha and the woman. She must’ve been remembering her promise to go with Nam-yeon.
Perfect. Jae-ha needed a real conversation with her anyway, and the fewer eyes around, the better. He gave her a broad, reassuring smile.
“It’s fine. Go help her. We’ll go see Nam-yeon ourselves.”
