SH | Chapter 2.3

Yoongong hurried along the road to Hanyang. He only stopped briefly to eat on the way. At his urging, the group had to keep walking without rest until the sun dipped low.

Under the dying sky, the inn visible in the distance looked so welcome that everyone could have cried. Only after they reached the inn on their exhausted legs could they finally breathe out.

“Oh dear, we don’t have enough prepared side dishes for so many guests. Will that still be all right?”

The innkeeper, with her warm face, looked troubled as she surveyed the large group.

“It matters not. Bring whatever you can.”

Ducheon, the one in charge of the procession, waved a hand dismissively. He was so tired and hungry his vision was blurring. He wanted to shove anything into his mouth as fast as possible and collapse into sleep.

“Yes, yes, then please wait just a little.”

The innkeeper hurried into the kitchen to prepare a supper table suited to the unexpectedly large number of guests. The meal the inn’s cook and innkeeper managed to set out was terribly modest.

There were not even enough proper trays, so some dishes were placed on trays and some directly on the floor. But the exhausted, hungry group wolfed everything down without complaint.

Once their stomachs were full, those who had walked all day began to lower their heads one by one, overcome by fatigue and dozing off.

The small inn did not have enough rooms for everyone to sleep in. There were only three rooms available for guests.

One was taken by the bride and the maids attending her. One by the groom, who held a high status. The last by the expensive wedding gifts and the two sturdy servants guarding them.

The rest of the group had to spread mats out on the porch, in the storeroom, and in the yard to sleep. Those who had walked nonstop since morning did not even notice the discomfort and snored deeply. If anything was fortunate, it was that it was summer and warm.

The three or four martial retainers hired by Golden Jinsa for the party’s safety, especially that of the bride and groom, swept their gaze over the sleeping people. They had walked at the front, rear, and middle of the group as escorts.

The retainers themselves could only briefly relax their sharpened vigilance once they reached the inn. They filled their hungry bellies, let out a breath, and rested their tired bodies.

Then, passing the sleeping people, they kept watch again over the room where the bride and groom were staying. As the night deepened, the retainers took turns standing guard.

“Hey, Junggil. It’s your turn.”

The retainer named Junggil, who had been sleeping on the thatched roof of the inn, woke at once. He stretched out his arms and got his stiff limbs moving.

“You worked hard. Get some shut-eye now.”

“Leave the rest to me. Good work.”

The comrade who had taken Junggil’s place stretched out lazily where he had been, closed his eyes, and waved a hand. Junggil yawned and leaped down from the roof. As he walked toward the post where he was supposed to keep watch, his eyes caught the groom’s room, where a light was still on.

Was it because of the snoring from all directions? Or could someone of high status not sleep in such a shabby, run-down inn?

Junggil watched the room lit by a faint lamp for a moment. The shadow cast on the papered window stood motionless, like a tree.

“So they said he was from a noble house, but maybe he can’t sleep in a place this shabby.”

It wasn’t a big deal. One night without sleep would not bring on serious illness. Junggil recalled something he had heard in passing. Not just from a noble house, but the child of a highly influential family, one of the big shots.

Honestly, how had such a person ended up marrying the daughter of some country Jinsa nobody?

Junggil recalled the bride he had caught a brief glimpse of just before departure. She had been wearing splendid wedding robes and had been helped into the palanquin.

“The bride seemed a little strange…”

The Jinsa couple had wept snot and tears, lamenting the parting with their daughter. The household staff also seemed sad. But there had been an oddly tense air about them. Junggil and his comrades had exchanged bewildered glances.

“Even if those wedding robes were layered and heavy, the bride’s build was almost too large.”

She was tall too.

“…Like a man pretending to be a woman…”

At that thought, Junggil closed his mouth. Then he looked around. Snoring sounds rose irregularly.

“…Let’s just do our jobs.”

For an instant, he felt like he had inadvertently seen the clients’ secret. Junggil glanced back and forth between the groom’s room with its light on and the bride’s room with its light off. Under the bride’s door, silk shoes had been placed neatly. Around them, as if encircling the space, were several pairs of straw sandals scattered in a way that looked rather meaningful.

“Well, would you look at that. Even if a noble house is running a scam, they do it with all the proper trimmings.”

They had sold their reputation for appearances.

Junggil scratched his head hard, then went to the post he was supposed to guard and stood there crookedly.

“This is actually pretty interesting.”

It seemed like it would be more stimulating than a performance troupe’s satire.

Junggil rubbed his chin.

“Well, if life gets boring sometimes, and I wander around near the bride just to look, I feel like I’d see some unexpected situations.”

Was it because he had lived as a wandering martial artist? He made a living on hired escort work, but for a wanderer, Junggil’s skills were rather good. On top of that, he was quick-witted, and fast at understanding and responding to situations.

He could roughly predict how the world worked. Maybe that was why life felt dull. He was becoming soaked in listlessness, like snow piling up, layer after layer.

“It’s been a while since my heart has actually stirred.”

One corner of Junggil’s mouth lifted. Moonlight fell on his face. In the pale glow, Junggil looked as if he had found something rather interesting and was smiling.

If anyone had been awake to see Junggil’s smile, it would have been the sort of wicked smile that made them shut their eyes again and pretend to be asleep.

The night deepened. Stars glittered. A passing traveler, not even aware of it, looked back. The traveler felt eyes stick to him.

Those eyes, full of interest, glittered in hiding beneath the moonlight like starlight. Yoongong had no idea where that gaze was headed.

If he had fallen asleep, he might have dreamed an ominous dream, but unfortunately, Yoongong did not sleep.

He only sat before the pitiful liquor spread out by the innkeeper and drank one cup after another. Yoongong set down the empty cup. Then he looked at the flickering lamp flame.

Watching the small, red light sway, he thought of Donggu, whom he had held last night. The teary eyes, flushed red, trembling as though they might fall, then might not.

Yoongong shivered as he remembered the sweet pleasure of licking and tasting those tears. He wanted to dash straight into the room where Donggu was staying.

But this was an inn beside a road in plain view. Even if everyone was asleep, there were still other people’s eyes. A nobleman was someone who had to keep proper decorum in front of the lowly, even while doing whatever he pleased behind closed doors. Yoongong licked his lips in regret.

Thinking of that smooth, taut, resilient body made his lower half feel heavy. The hole that trembled and clenched tight and tight had been delicious beyond words.

Thirst rose in him. Yoongong lifted the basin of water beside the bedding and drank hurriedly. Maybe because of the season, the water sliding down his throat was lukewarm. The thirst did not go away.

Yoongong set the basin down. Because he had moved in a hurry, droplets of water had splashed onto his hand and chin. In the dim light, the transparent beads shone with a poignant brightness.

He slowly licked up the droplets gathered on the back of his hand. The tiny, insignificant beads vanished in an instant against his hot body temperature. He felt frustrated, and annoyed.

Yoongong looked at the door of the room where Donggu was sleeping, visible through the paper window. He was right in front of a delicious meal, yet could not touch it because of appearances. He swallowed his dry saliva pointlessly. He wanted to savor that body to his heart’s content, as soon as possible. Once thirst had set in, it was hard to endure.

“If we set out the moment the rooster crows, we should arrive before sunset.”

He licked his lips with his tongue. Drinking water or drinking liquor did nothing to ease the thirst. This was a thirst that had to be quenched by taking something else.

While Yoongong soothed his burning throat through the night, Donggu endured the sticky feelings piling up in him like mud, rising toward his throat.

Seolseol, the older nanny, and the maids from Golden Jinsa’s household who had come along to the groom’s house were sitting around Donggu, nodding off.

Donggu, unable even to lie down properly in the dark because of the heavy bridal clothes, watched them with a dark expression.

He and Ukseo, Jangseo, and the others had once been the kind of people who could pat each other’s backs, endure scorn and humiliation together, and laugh it off while downing a bowl of makgeolli.

But now those two said nothing at all when they saw Donggu in red bridal robes. By order of Ducheon, the overseer for the group, they only kept watch over Donggu. Donggu felt both hurt and understanding.

Donggu sighed. His comrades were no longer comrades.

With those who had followed to watch from inside and out, there was no visible path of escape.

“Why in the world do I have to be like this?”

Donggu drew up his knees and buried his face. As if pulling the evasive Donggu back into reality, the golden decorations on the headdress jingled.

A dark night, watchful eyes all around, layers upon layers of wedding clothes, the red bridal makeup stamped on his own face, the runaway Lady Soyee, Ibpun, Ibpun…

Ibpun’s face, hissing like a cat, sank deeper and deeper into his heart. Over it, Yoongong’s handsome face rose up. It felt different from when he thought of Ibpun.

It was frightening.

It was so frightening, as if it kept telling him he had no choice but to keep yielding to reality.

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