Yeongwon sat patiently in the shadowed study room, waiting quietly for news from Bunsoo. Suddenly, a letter was thrust into his hands, an eager hand belonging to Pyeonghwa.
Yeongwon glanced at the letter with a calm, unreadable expression, then looked away without a word. Pyeonghwa waved the letter up and down to catch his attention, but it was useless; the man before him was as cold as ice.
"Are you not serious about this? Fine, then I'll keep it myself," Pyeonghwa teased, pretending to stuff the letter into his robe. No matter how he joked, Yeongwon's face remained impassive.
"You really are hopeless," Pyeonghwa said with a teasingly stern tone.
"Just say what you want quickly, don't play coy. I don't like that!"
"Here, take this. A letter from Inhyeong addressed to you,"
Pyeonghwa said with a sly smile clearly showing on his face.
"I'm envious, truly. Not only do you have a beautiful consort like Soran, but also a wealthy young lady entangled in your affairs."
Suddenly,
Yeongwon snatched the letter from Pyeonghwa's hand and stood, pretending to walk away at once.
But Pyeonghwa called out quickly,
"Truth be told... you want to go back, don't you?"
"Mind your own business. Worry about your own survival first, courtesan!"
Yeongwon replied coldly, then strode off.
Pyeonghwa curled the corner of his mouth in mock annoyance.
"Keep acting all proud and aloof. I'll make sure you get what you want."
He raised his ornate fan and fanned himself cheerfully, smiling with satisfaction.
Yeongwon continued walking with the letter until he had put enough distance between himself and Pyeonghwa. Then he stopped, lifting the letter to study it carefully.
He stared at it for a long moment before taking a few more steps. Though his exterior remained composed and cold, inside he was filled with curiosity about the contents of the letter.
He walked straight until he reached the large tree in the spacious yard behind his small residence.
Suddenly, a familiar sweet voice was reciting from a book nearby.
Yeongwon rounded the tree and there she was: Soran.
She was so absorbed in her reading that it seemed she was unaware of the world around her.
Strangely true, every time he looked at Soran, he found himself unable to look away, not even to the leaves and grass softly caressed by sunlight and breeze.
If Soran were a newly blooming flower basking in gentle sunlight and breeze, it was impossible to take one's eyes off this delicate blossom's growth.
Suddenly, he realized their eyes met, locked together without blinking. Soran's eyes were bright and deep black, like those of a young fawn. Those eyes held Yeongwon's gaze captive as well. They stared silently at each other for many long moments. When Yeongwon finally regained his composure, he turned his face away.
"Studying?"
Yeongwon asked without meeting her eyes.
"Yes. I want to be able to read and write,"
Soran answered softly.
"But you can already read and write."
Yeongwon glanced back at her with a teasing look.
"But I want to do it as well as you….write stories, read and understand them well. I want to be like that,"
Soran said proudly.
Seeing her expression, Yeongwon couldn't help but smile.Suddenly, he sat down beside her. Soran was startled and jumped up, looking at him in surprise.
"Wh-what are you going to do, my lord?"
"Sit down. Where do you think you're going?"
Yeongwon asked with a puzzled expression.
Soran slowly sat back down beside him.
"I…."
"Here, take this!"
Yeongwon placed a thick book on her lap before she could react.
Soran flinched instantly.
Yeongwon smiled at her fondly.
"Come on. I'll teach you. But how can I teach you if you sit so far away?"
"You want me to... sit close?"
Soran asked hesitantly.
Yeongwon looked visibly excited.
"Then how should I teach you? Or do you want to read on your own?"
He pretended to turn away, about to stand.
Soran grabbed his arm tightly, causing him to fall awkwardly onto the ground.
"Hey! If you had pulled any harder, I'd have toppled headfirst!"
"I-I'm sorry, my lord."
Footsteps approached, then suddenly stopped. Yeongwon looked back to see Pyeonghwa standing nearby, watching them intently. Yeongwon quickly turned his attention back to Soran.
Soran wore a gentle, apologetic expression. Yeongwon studied her quietly for a moment before offering a faint smile and shifting closer to sit beside her. Soran felt a slight tension rise within her as she found herself so near him.
Yeongwon took the thick book from Soran's lap and placed it onto his own, then began reading aloud clearly, word by word.
"Oops!!"
Soran quickly reached out and covered his mouth with her hand.
Yeongwon peeled her hand away with a hint of irritation.
"You're so fussy. What now?"
He looked at her with a mildly displeased gaze.
"My lord, please don't read so loudly," Soran whispered softly.
"Why not? Let them know we're reading...do not disturb!"
Yeongwon replied, slyly teasing Pyeonghwa who stood not far away.
Hearing that, Pyeonghwa clenched his fist in frustration and immediately strode over to join them beneath the big tree.
Before long, he squeezed himself between Soran and Yeongwon, flashing a challenging smile at Yeongwon as if saying, "You can do it, so why can't I?"
"Hey! How did you manage to sit here?"
Yeongwon exclaimed, surprise etched clearly on his face.
Pyeonghwa batted his eyes innocently, then leaned his head on Soran's shoulder, who seemed flustered and unsure what to do.
"I just want to read along, you see. I want to read with you, Soran."
He turned to her with a pleading look.
Soran simply smiled without saying a word.
"You're crazy. Get out of here. Can't you see we're trying to read? Don't disturb us! I think I've already raised my voice enough!"
Yeongwon protested loudly.
"See? That means you admit you were trying to block me from getting close to her."
Pyeonghwa teased.
"Why do you want to get close to her?"
Yeongwon retorted.
"Oh? Then why else…"
"Because she's my wife, of course. What are you still wondering for?"
Yeongwon replied immediately, without thinking twice.
Those words made both Soran and Pyeonghwa freeze, stunned for a moment.
Realizing what he'd just said, Yeongwon hastily stood up.
Not out of anger, but from embarrassment at having revealed his feelings unintentionally.
He couldn't bear to face Soran any longer.
Those words echoed in his mind and in Soran's as well.
The three sat quietly together, none speaking for fear of saying something that would make it harder to face each other later.
Soran avoided Pyeonghwa's gaze, while he continued to watch her intently.
"So we didn't get to study at all, huh? I'm really hopeless,"
Pyeonghwa feigned remorse with a mock sad face.
Soran said nothing, gathering the book in her hands and standing up.
She bowed politely to Pyeonghwa.
"I'll be going now."
Then she hurried after Yeongwon.Pyeonghwa sighed deeply and sat alone, quietly accepting the cool breeze. He watched Soran's figure walk away until she disappeared from sight. Then he turned back, stewing in frustration.
"Is it me? Or is it you…? I was the one who found her first. The one who found her first was me... wasn't it?"
Pyeonghwa gazed up at the sky with weary eyes. Slowly, he leaned against the great tree and closed his eyes, utterly exhausted.
"I said she's my wife. What else is there to wonder?"
Yeongwon spoke aloud without thinking...
.....?
"Damn it!! How could I say that out loud?!"
He paced back and forth anxiously in the spacious room bathed in soft sunlight filtering through sheer lotus-patterned curtains. Muttering to himself, his expression was fraught with worry.
"How can I even face her now...?"
Sunlight streamed in streaks across the polished stone floor. A gentle breeze fluttered the bamboo blinds, carrying the faint scent of plum blossoms into the room.
"No, wait! She probably won't want to look at me anymore..."
The chirping birds outside only deepened the heavy silence settling in Yeongwon's heart.
"She must hate me now... Ughhh… headache!!!"
Yeongwon collapsed onto the cold stone floor, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment at his own careless words.
(Oh, Lord... please kill me now... Damn it... I've never been like this before.)
He shook his head in disbelief.
His face flushed bright red; tiny beads of sweat formed along his jawline.
(What is this feeling...? This is the first time I've ever felt like this in my life.)
After a while, Yeongwon slowly opened his eyes to gaze at the high ceiling.
Sunlight filtered through the glass window, casting dancing shadows of leaves on the ceiling.
His eyes followed the shifting patterns until he suddenly exclaimed without thinking:
"What the... the ceiling is patterned like Soran!"
"My lord!"
A clear voice suddenly rang out.
Yeongwon's eyes snapped wide open to see the ceiling, which seemed to be "speaking."
His blurry vision sharpened and took shape—and it was none other than Soran, looking down at him.
Startled, Yeongwon jolted upright and shifted his gaze over her shoulder. Soran leaned forward, trying to see what he was looking at.
Yeongwon glanced left and right, and behind her, but saw nothing but a young man smiling with full cheeks.
His face was flushed red like a ripe tomato.Soran froze, then retreated to her seat. She bit her lip lightly before smiling. That smile made Yeongwon want to toss and turn on the floor again.
(Why do you have to tease me like that!? …So adorable.)
He quickly looked away, inwardly thinking of Soran and how she unsettled his composure.
"My lord / You!"
They spoke simultaneously.
"You speak first."
"No, you speak first. What I say isn't that important."
Soran answered modestly.
"No! Mine isn't important either,"
Yeongwon said, his voice growing softer as he hunched his shoulders.
Both of their hands drooped down to grasp their ankles shyly. He glanced again over Soran's shoulder.
"Could you stop looking past me like that? If you have something to say, just say it. That's what I want to hear."
Soran's voice hardened slightly with hurt, feeling that Yeongwon was giving importance to her words but avoiding eye contact as before.
Yeongwon looked puzzled, unable to read her.
It was as if Soran knew he was avoiding eye contact during their conversation, but she chose to ignore it.
Was all this embarrassment really his alone? Slowly, Yeongwon turned to meet Soran's gaze directly.
"Why don't you go read with Pyeonghwa? He's a brilliant student… maybe he can help you better than I can."
Yeongwon spoke with a hint of sadness in his voice.
"What do you really want from me, my lord?"
Soran asked, her eyes focused and waiting.
Yeongwon fell silent, swallowing hard... then flinched slightly. Soran didn't look away. Though she felt some displeasure deep inside, she wanted to hear his reasons.
"My lord, is he here yet?"
Inhyeong, the young woman who had been watching Yeongwon closely, called out.
"Miss?"
Mugi, her personal maid, lightly nudged Inhyeong's waist.
She was anxiously looking for Yeongwon.
"What is it?"
Inhyeong snapped irritably.
Mugi startled. Then Inhyeong turned back and asked again.
"What is it, Mugi? What's wrong?"
"Miss... it's been a long time. Do you think my lord will really come?"
Hearing this, Inhyeong's heart sank.
Her confidence, once strong, was swept away by the wind.
She quietly comforted herself.
"Hmph... what do you know... he will come for sure. Just wait and see... wait and see…"
Though she said this, deep inside she remained filled with doubt.
Yeongwon sat in his quiet private room. The aged wooden chamber was adorned with soft pastel-colored curtains that swayed delicately. The afternoon sunlight filtered in through stained glass windows, scattering golden light across the timeworn floor. His gaze lingered on Soran, who sat silently, saying nothing. A soft breeze stirred the brass wind chimes hanging near the window, their faint tinkle blending with the warm stillness of the room.
But within Yeongwon's heart, turmoil swirled, a dawning realization that he had neglected something important, something he had pushed too far away.
Slowly, he reached into the wide sleeve of his hanbok and carefully pulled out an old, crumpled letter with its corners folded over many times.
His eyes flicked briefly to Soran, then returned to the letter, which he began to read intently.
Noticing that Yeongwon's attention was now completely absorbed by the letter, Soran quietly rose and walked out of the room without saying a word.
Yeongwon didn't realize she had left, he remained immersed in the letter in his hands.
When he finally finished reading, he folded the letter back up with a composed expression. There was no sign of embarrassment or sentimentality on his face, not because he was unaffected by the words, but because, to his surprise, he found that his heart no longer stirred for Inhyeong.
He glanced toward the now-empty spot where Soran had been sitting and only then noticed her absence.
At once, he stood up and hurried out to the garden, hoping to find her.
Meanwhile, Inhyeong still stood waiting, unwilling to give up on the tall young man she longed for. Her cheeks flushed with impatience, so much so that her emotions practically spilled from her face.
Mugi, her ever-watchful maid, seemed just as anxious.
Then, out of nowhere, a playful young man appeared with a mischievous grin...Pyeonghwa.
He sauntered past Inhyeong and her maid as if he didn't recognize them at all.
Inhyeong froze in place before calling out sharply:
"Stop right there!"
"Huh...?"
Pyeonghwa turned back, startled to find Inhyeong still standing there.
"Oh... Hello, my lady."
He greeted her with a dry smile, but was met with nothing but a sullen glare.
"What's with that face? Do you need to go relieve yourself or something? Hahaha..."
He laughed teasingly, though his eyes betrayed a sense of disappointment.
"It's your stupid face! Idiot... Why hasn't he come yet? Why hasn't he shown up? Hmph..."
Inhyeong let her frustration out by pounding her fists against Pyeonghwa's chest, crumpling his expensive clothing in the process.
Mugi quickly rushed forward to restrain her.
"Please, my lady... That's enough. People are watching."
"I don't care... Let me go!"
Inhyeong snapped, yanking her arm free before grabbing Pyeonghwa's collar.
"Why... Why didn't you bring him here? Why?!"
Pyeonghwa suddenly gripped her wrist tightly, causing her to cry out in pain.
He held it firmly for a moment, then shoved her away.
She nearly fell, but thankfully Mugi caught her just in time.
"Don't ever do that to me again. I don't like it! He didn't come because he's stopped loving you, that's why! How can you be so blind?!"
Pyeonghwa scolded her mercilessly, then turned on his heel and walked off without a backward glance.
"My lady, are you all right?"
Mugi asked with concern as she gently helped Inhyeong to her feet.
Inhyeong's eyes remained locked on Pyeonghwa's retreating back, burning with resentment.
He disappeared from view.
Pyeonghwa stormed off, seething with anger at how his entire plan had fallen apart.
(Why didn't he come...? Has he truly fallen out of love with Inhyeong?)
He thought back to the moment Yeongwon had once spoken so possessively:
"She's my wife. What else do you want?"
(Has that fool really fallen for Soran...? Tch!)
Pyeonghwa could hardly believe the thought himself.
He headed toward the most renowned gisaeng house in the district,
hoping that being surrounded by beautiful women might help him forget all this chaos, if only for a while.
"Sir, where would you like me to store these supplies?"
An old servant, approaching Lord Kim, the father of Yeongwon, spoke up while carrying sacks of newly harvested rice.
But Lord Kim didn't reply.
His gaze was fixed on his youngest son, who was grinning ear to ear while holding his concubine tightly in his arms, joy radiating from his face.
"My lord?" the old man called again.
"Hm? What did you say?"
Lord Kim finally turned his attention away from the affectionate pair and back to the servant with the rice delivery.
Tap... tap... tap...
Soft footsteps echoed across the polished stone floor of the quiet hanok hall. Yeongwon froze momentarily when the sound came to a halt behind him, the silence of the moment broken only by the rustle of silk and the whisper of morning light filtering through sheer lotus-patterned curtains.
"Your Grace..."
Soran's voice called out, gentle yet clear, like the subtle fragrance of early-blooming lotus flowers drifting on a spring breeze.
Startled, Yeongwon realized he had been holding her far too tightly, his arms still wrapped around her as if unwilling to let go. Flustered, he immediately released her and stepped back half a pace. His face flushed deep red, the heat reaching the tips of his ears.
One hand pressed instinctively to his chest, where his heart beat furiously, thundering like a war drum against his ribs.
(What is this feeling... Why does it feel so overwhelming?)
He stood motionless in the center of the room, surrounded by the gentle scent of pinewood and sun-dried silk. The mid-morning sunlight spilled through the lattice windows, casting a shifting pattern of light and shadow across the wooden floor. In that quiet moment, he seemed to dissolve into his own silent reverie.
Soran gazed at him quietly before slowly reaching out to place a delicate hand upon his shoulder…..as if afraid that even the softest touch might cause everything between them to shatter.
"Your Grace… are you all right?" Her voice carried a hint of worry, wrapped in tenderness.
Yeongwon said nothing. His eyes met hers for a brief second, eyes neither warm nor cold, but unreadable,before he turned away and silently exited the chamber, leaving Soran standing alone amidst the golden hush.
Her hand remained suspended in the air, as if still reaching for him.
"Did I do something wrong...? Why won't he say anything… Why does he walk away again?" Soran whispered to herself before letting out a faint sigh and stepping outside to draw water from the cistern, continuing her daily chores in silence.
Elsewhere, in the heart of Hanyang...
Pyeonghwa strolled through a narrow alley that snaked between aging merchant stalls in the capital's old district. The morning air was tinged with the scent of ground herbs, incense, and the distant melody of a flute echoing between tiled rooftops. Though he had just left the warmth of a gisaeng house, his face was clouded, his eyes lost, as if searching for something no longer there.
No laughter nor the strumming of geomungo strings could dispel the unrest brewing within him.
As he turned the corner, a figure passed by without so much as a glance.
A soft peony fragrance lingered in the air.
He knew immediately, it was her.
The courtesan who once stirred his heart.
He stopped and watched as her slender silhouette disappeared into the haze of sunlight and dust.
A piece of cloth fluttered to the ground in her wake, a delicate handkerchief he recognized at once. It had once belonged to her.
Pyeonghwa bent to pick it up, fingers curling tightly around the silken fabric.
(She didn't drop it for me... It slipped by accident. But... why does she walk as if her spirit has long left her body...?)
He stood motionless beneath the rustling ginkgo trees. Leaves danced around his feet, casting fleeting shadows on the cobbled road. He closed his eyes, and the memory of the first time they met, the same handkerchief in his hands, her shy smile, returned like a dream he wished he could relive.
But now, he could not return it to her.
Not with this guilt in his heart.
Just then, a young vegetable vendor passed with a wooden cart.
"You there, boy!"
"Me, sir?" The young man stopped, eyes wide.
Pyeonghwa extended the handkerchief toward him.
"Yes. That woman who just passed by. The most beautiful one in Hanyang. Find her."
The boy hesitated, but Pyeonghwa tossed a silk pouch of coins to him without waiting.
"Take this. Make sure she gets it in her hands. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir! I'll find her for sure!" The boy, eyes gleaming, ran off into the crowd.
Pyeonghwa remained where he was, gaze lifted toward the now-brightening sky. He let out a quiet sigh, a smile touching his lips, faint, but real.
It was not the smirk of his usual mischief.
But something softer.
Perhaps, with nothing left binding his heart, that smile, however fragile, might finally return on its own.