Chapter 168

As Hoeun pressed his lips together again and again, Taemuk drew him closer until he was nearly flush against him. Between Taemuk’s handsome brows gathered a tension that was hard to tell—whether it was irritation or worry.

“You couldn’t sleep? Why. Was it cold?”

“No. The room was warm. And… the General’s embrace was warm as well.”

Hoeun fidgeted with the hem of his clothes. There was no way he could have felt cold while sleeping in Taemuk’s arms. Taemuk usually ran warm to begin with, and even aside from that, his body was so large and solid that no chill could seep through when one was held by him.

“Then why couldn’t you sleep.”

“Well…”

“What.”

“M-my heart… was beating too fast…”

Hoeun squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. Taemuk’s face, however, hardened instantly.

“…Don’t tell me it’s heart disease now.”

At that, Hoeun couldn’t help but giggle. Then his lips stung again, and he let out a small, pained whine.

“It’s not that.”

But Taemuk’s expression didn’t ease. Though ignorant about illness, even he knew that “heart disease” was no trivial matter.

“Then you don’t know why again? Like with the nosebleed? Should I call the physician?”

He looked ready to dash off at any moment and drag the old healer back by the collar. Seeing this, Hoeun smiled faintly once more. He wasn’t sure why Taemuk’s worry felt so pleasant—perhaps because he could feel how much he was cherished, how carefully he was regarded.

“It’s not that. I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about what you said yesterday, General.”

Hoeun spoke softly. In the late hours before dawn, he had woken briefly and, without thinking, looked at Taemuk. His sleeping face was so handsome that Hoeun had stared for a long while. Then Taemuk’s words came back to him, and he found himself grinning like a fool—then biting his lips in case Taemuk woke to the sound of his laughter—then smiling again.

He had always wished to be useful in his life, but he had never imagined he could be useful to someone as remarkable as Taemuk. Nor had he imagined that usefulness would earn him such affection.

Thinking of how far he had come, he felt proud of himself, grateful to Taemuk, and thankful to the heavens that had bound them together. And before he knew it, he had watched the sky grow light with dawn. After dozing briefly and waking again, his lips had begun to sting.

“…Why did that come to mind?”

Taemuk asked, his face taut with tension, entirely unaware of Hoeun’s inner thoughts. His large hand clenched and relaxed repeatedly. Did it upset him? Was an apology not enough? Should I have handed him a blade and told him to stab me instead? Or slammed my head into a rock? He cycled through absurd thoughts.

“Because I was happy.”

Hoeun answered with a bashful smile.

“….”

Taemuk’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Hoeun’s face, smiling softly with curved eyes, was so beautiful—so very beautiful.

Taemuk stared, then cleared his throat and roughly brushed back his bangs. His ears had turned faintly red. Hoeun noticed, but pretended not to.

“So how do you cure that… that guchang thing?”

Taemuk scratched the back of his neck with his index finger. Hoeun thought for a moment, then gave an answer that wasn’t particularly helpful.

“Well… it heals on its own, with time.”

Naturally, Taemuk’s face twisted at once.

“Ha. What the fuck—why do you only ever get illnesses with no medicine and no answers?”

“I’m sorry.”

Hoeun lowered his gaze and apologized. At his sincere apology, Taemuk stiffened, drawing his chin in slightly, then muttered in a low, pressed voice while looking away,

“…I didn’t tell you to apologize.”

Hoeun smiled faintly. Then something occurred to him, and he let out a small, “Ah.”

“If I eat well and sleep well, it heals faster.”

“I’d have to see you eat well and sleep well first.”

Taemuk shot back immediately. Hoeun laughed awkwardly. It was true—there was little more difficult for him than eating and sleeping properly.

Taemuk stared at Hoeun for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the table, still piled high with untouched food.

“Does it hurt when you chew? Your stomach doesn’t hurt, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then porridge?”

“Um… I think I could eat that.”

“Got it.”

Without hesitation, Taemuk sprang to his feet and headed straight for the door. Startled, Hoeun hurriedly grabbed the hem of his trousers.

“I-I’ll find something myself. Please finish your meal, General.”

He had already disrupted Taemuk’s meal enough. Eating was important—especially for someone like Taemuk, who exerted so much strength, moved so quickly, and carried so many responsibilities. His own meal couldn’t compare.

But Taemuk clearly had no intention of continuing to eat.

“I want to eat with you.”

“….”

“I’ll be right back. Wait here.”

At those words, Hoeun had no choice but to let go of his trousers. His cheeks flushed pink, like flower petals. Taemuk bent down, stroked that cheek once, and stepped out through the lattice door. As he moved to close it quickly to keep out the cold—

“Y-you know, I could drink sungnyung too.”

Hoeun poked his head out.

“Sungnyung?”

“Yes. Porridge takes a long time to make…”

Which meant Taemuk would be gone for a while, leaving him alone. Sungnyung could simply be ladled from the pot—Taemuk would return quickly.

“…Alright. I’ll be right back.”

With that, Taemuk left. Hoeun quietly watched his back as he crossed the small courtyard. Somehow sensing the gaze, Taemuk turned at the gate and gestured for him to close the door. Hoeun smiled shyly and shut it.

But not long after, Taemuk returned. Hoeun greeted him with a bright smile—but oddly, Taemuk carried nothing.

Had there been no sungnyung? Had the other soldiers already eaten it all? As Hoeun tilted his head in confusion—

“Get dressed.”

“…Dressed?”

Taemuk said abruptly. Then he strode to the chest of drawers and pulled out Hoeun’s outer robe and cloak.

“Did something happen? D-did a shikgoe appear?”

Startled, Hoeun jumped up. Approaching him, Taemuk draped the dapho over his shoulders and said,

“Byeonguk is back.”

“…What?”

Hoeun’s eyes widened.

People were crowded thickly in front of the fortress wall. As Hoeun ran downhill toward them, he gradually slowed. The gathering made him uneasy. The Jeokudae were always busy—everyone had work, always moving briskly. So why were they all gathered like this?

“Is Byeonguk injured?”

Hoeun asked, glancing back at Taemuk.

“No.”

Taemuk’s short reply was accompanied by a peculiar expression. Byeonguk had returned after ten full days and five more besides, yet Taemuk didn’t seem pleased or relieved. His reaction was awkward, unsettled—certainly not joyful.

Watching him, Hoeun’s face suddenly drained of color.

“Then… did something happen to my parents in Hanyang?”

“Uh…”

Taemuk hesitated. Hoeun felt his heart drop. It was as though an arrow had pierced his chest, stealing his breath. All the blood seemed to drain from his body at once. Seeing Hoeun turn pale, Taemuk shook his head.

“No. It’s not that.”

“Then why—”

“See for yourself.”

Taemuk jerked his chin toward the crowd. Hoeun looked between Taemuk and the gathered soldiers, then stepped forward hesitantly. As he approached, the murmuring soldiers fell silent and parted to make way.

Familiar faces came into view—Gilsang, Seongim, Dongja, Mansu, even Chilbok. It was strange. Why were they all here? Had they gathered for Byeonguk?

“You’re here, young master.”

“You’ve come, young master.”

“You’re here, my lord?”

Hoeun acknowledged them with small nods as he reached the edge of the crowd. And at that moment, his jaw dropped.

“Wh-what… is all this…?”

A mountain of goods lay piled before him. Chests, bundles, cloth-wrapped parcels, baskets, sacks—there were even jars. It was as though a small hill had risen there, so tall it cast a shadow beneath it, blocking out the sun.

“Captain. Young master.”

Byeonguk approached, greeting Taemuk once and Hoeun once. Hoeun, still stunned, greeted him belatedly.

“Did you return safely? Were you injured?”

“Yes. I was unharmed.”

“That’s a relief. But… what are all these things…?”

At Hoeun’s curious question, Byeonguk glanced at Taemuk, then at the pile, and answered in a low voice,

“They were prepared by your household, young master.”

Hoeun’s eyes widened as though they might tumble out.

“M-my household?”

“Yes.”

“Wh-what did they send… so much of…?”

Even when Hoeun had left home, his baggage had been considerable—embarrassingly so. Yet what stood before him now was several times that amount. Fewer than ten people, Byeonguk included, had gone to Hanyang; it was a wonder they had carried all this back at all.

Footnote

1. Guchang (口瘡) — A common mouth ulcer or canker sore, painful despite its small size, especially when chewing.
2. Sungnyung (숭늉) — A traditional Korean drink made by pouring hot water over scorched rice at the bottom of a pot.
3. Dapho (답호) — A type of outer robe worn over inner garments, often for warmth or formality.