Reverse Murder v1c31

The headman nodded.

“There is one place. A six-room thatched house on the slope, with a fenced front yard big enough for a small garden. It’s a half-day’s walk round-trip, so not too far from here. The path is rough, so few ever go that way.”

That day, they inspected the property and returned to spend the night at the headman’s. The next day, they bought essentials at the market—wooden tableware, a cauldron, two cotton quilts, firewood, a small table, a tray, a ladle, and side dishes. Finally, they bought new clothes from the tailor.

Workers replaced the old thatched roof with fresh straw. A nearby stream made fetching water easy, and the surrounding mountains formed a picturesque backdrop. Wild azaleas and rhododendrons perfumed the air.

The headman opened the creaky side gate, paper doors, and kitchen door, letting light and wind flow through the modest forest cottage.

“An old couple lived here until two years ago. Their eldest son disgraced the family, so they hid here to avoid shame.”

He sized Jihan up.

“You seem like a well-born young master. What brings you to such a remote place?”

Jihan just stared. The headman flushed, waving his hands.

“Ah, I understand. Some things are better left unasked. Forgive me—your gaze is enough to make a man’s face burn. You’re too handsome for your own good. One look from you, and men and women alike would lose their wits.”

“…”

The old man, flustered, turned away.

“Lock the doors tightly at night. No people around here, but a tiger as big as a house roams these parts. Comes down once a month—never go beyond the fence after dark.”

With that warning, he hurried out. Maki glared after him.

“No respect for his betters.”

“Enough.”

Jihan’s voice was icy.

“Let’s finish cleaning before dark. He mentioned a tiger…”

“Ugh, I’m sick of bandits and tigers! I’d die happy if they all dropped dead tomorrow!”

Maki grumbled but quickly gathered firewood. Jihan swept the yard and wiped down the rooms. Maki protested—”A hand that holds a brush shouldn’t be holding a rag!”—but Jihan insisted. He’d never done such work before, but he wasn’t helpless. Besides, dragging Maki all this way made him feel guilty.

“At least let me do the heavy lifting!”

“If we split the work, we’ll finish faster. And we need to bar the doors—the tiger might come.”

Dusk fell.

They bolted the doors and ate dinner—rice with potatoes and tender boiled chicken, dipped in salt, paired with sweet milky rice wine from the village. Maki, now used to sharing meals with Jihan, piled meat onto his rice.

“Now you can focus on your studies, Young Master. This is better than being cooped up in a temple, watching monks’ every move. Here, the air is clean, the water is pure—perfect for concentration. Next exam, you’ll pass with flying colors, regain Grand Secretary’s favor, and flatten that bastard’s nose!”

Jihan cracked the door open just a sliver and lit his pipe. Beyond the faint glow, the mountains stretched into inky darkness, not a single light in sight.

“Maki…”

He hesitated, not looking at him.

“Aren’t you angry with me?”

“What?”

“For making you do terrible things before. And… I know you had feelings for him.”

“…”

“Yet you followed me here without complaint, tending to me like this… Are you a saint, or just simpleminded?”

Maki waved his hands, his stubbly cheeks flushed from drink.

“Young Master, why such nonsense? I did run away that time, against your orders! And you never blamed me for it—you suffered because of it. What more could I possibly resent? A lowly servant like me—”

“…”

“And… you’re right. I’m the kind of fool who gets hard at the sight of a topknot. But I’ve learned the annex master’s kindness was all an act. I saw through him. So I’ve moved on…”

His voice trailed off.

Gak (각) – Traditional Korean time unit (~30 minutes)

“Now I just resent him. You’ve been by my side since I was young, never made me do harsh work, always looked after me… but he keeps tormenting you like this… Oh dear, I’m rambling.”

Maki, who had inherited the head maid’s warm and gentle nature, scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Jihan suddenly realized how much he’d taken Maki for granted—how he’d only counted his losses, never what he still had. That was how he’d ended up in this mess.

After dinner, Maki heated bathwater to wash off the grime of their journey. Jihan bathed thoroughly before lying down on the narrow bedding. Maki was already fast asleep, snoring softly.

The unfamiliar rafters blurred as exhaustion pulled him under. For the first time in a long while, he’d eaten a proper meal, and the sweet drowsiness of a full stomach lulled him into deep, dreamless sleep.

***

Adapting to secluded mountain life wasn’t easy.

For the past few days, Jihan woke early, bathed, and spent the day with his books. When the words blurred, he’d chop firewood or fetch water to stretch his legs. Sometimes he and Maki would go down to the village for supplies—or the occasional bottle of liquor. He clung to the routine, desperate for stability.

The weather was warm by Cheongmyeong (pure brightness, ~April 5th), but the mountain nights still required a fire. That afternoon, Maki stacked freshly cut firewood in the sun to dry. Jihan, frustrated by the text he couldn’t focus on, stepped onto the veranda for his pipe.

“I’m making mushroom hotpot and wild greens bibimbap for dinner.”

Maki dusted off his hands as he approached.

“I’ll go gather mushrooms and mountain greens in the valley before they rot in the rain.”

Jihan exhaled smoke, shaking his head.

“Don’t let the greens distract you—you’ll lose track of time. And with that tiger around, don’t wander at dusk.”

“It’s just nearby! Oh, did you see the little shrine past the valley?”

“Shrine?”

“Yes, a serangdang—for the sacred tree. The tree’s half-rotten, and the shrine’s leaning from neglect. But if the tiger shows up, I can hide there.”

“Be back before sunset.”

Maki grabbed a hoe and a large basket before heading out. Jihan watched him go, then packed his pipe with tobacco. He gazed at the dense forest beyond the bamboo gate, lost in thought.

A breeze carried the scent of damp earth, fresh greenery, and flowers—and beneath it, the faintest hint of plum blossoms.

‘When I think of you, Hyung…’

Seon’s low, husky voice echoed in his mind.

‘Just imagining you makes my mouth water, my energy surge. I get so hard it aches.’

Jihan’s breath hitched. He scanned his surroundings—the chirping of insects, the rustle of leaves in the wind. Then his lower abdomen twinged.

He curled his bare toes and pressed his face into his knees. Why did it hurt there? The spot he’d never seen but knew existed—the swollen, secret nub inside his hole—throbbed dully.

Seon used to tease him, slicking his finger with saliva and pressing it inside, right against that spot. As if he knew it was there. Jihan would clench his thighs, trembling, and Seon would smirk, his own cock leaking clear pre-cum between them.

‘You’re so wet, Hyung.’

The late afternoon sun glared off the courtyard, whiting out his vision—just like when Seon whispered in his ear, stealing his senses.

In the silence, he fumbled with his waistband. His cock was painfully hard, the tip weeping. Clear droplets welled at the slit, trickling down the shaft.

“Bastard.”

His reddened lips mouthed the curse. This was all his fault. He’d ruined Jihan’s body, rewired it against his will.

Alone, he’d thought these cravings were gone. But now they surged back, his entire body screaming for that pleasure, that slick heat. He couldn’t control himself—if Maki walked in now, he’d see Jihan like this, yet he couldn’t stop.

“Nngh… Hah…”

Half-lidded, he stroked himself, eyes fixed on the green mountains. No matter how long he worked his cock, it only ached, refusing release.

“Fuck… damn bastard.”

His vision blurred with tears. His hips twisted obscenely. He bit the front of his robe, then hitched his knees up, spreading them wide.

Carefully, he parted his thighs. They shook violently. The place that had been stretched and swollen from Seon’s use had healed in his absence.

His right hand pumped his cock while his left explored lower, tracing the trench beneath his balls.

“Uhn… Ah.”

The fabric in his teeth grew damp. He spread his cheeks, exposing his hole to the cool air. The rim puckered, sending a shiver through him. He pressed his middle finger against it, then relaxed and pushed inside. The tight heat clenched around him, shockingly hot. His mouth fell open; his robe slipped from his teeth.

“Hah—ah, uhn…”

It wasn’t enough. Seon’s fingers were longer—always just out of reach.

He rocked his hips, greedily swallowing his own finger. Still not enough. He added another, forcing himself open, roughly stirring the raw nerves. Pain edged out pleasure. He thrust his fingers deep, grinding his entire lower body against his hand until he finally came.

“Hah… Hah…”