BW C106

Chapter 106

Hoeun blinked his eyes slowly, then gently brushed his hand over the jade-hued hanbok he wore.

“So that’s why I’m dressed in this,” he mused.

“Yes. How do you like it? I brought the finest one from there.”

Mansu looked at Hoeun with subtle expectation, and Hoeun smiled warmly, nodding in approval.

“Indeed, I am very fond of it. Mansu hyung seems to possess a remarkable eye for clothing.”

“Me? Well… not bad. My eyes are somewhat refined, you know.”

Mansu chuckled lightly, proud of his remark. Dongja, noticing this, narrowed her eyes sharply and shot him a sharp glare.

“Stop the nonsense and just wash your clothes on time.”

“Ah, well—”

Mansu shot her back a glare with narrowed eyes in return. Dongja hissed softly and pursed her lips, while Mansu lowered his gaze as if nothing had occurred. The sight was amusing, and Hoeun smiled discreetly before asking the two,

“But I don’t understand what you find amusing.”

Taemuk had slain the monsters, rescued him, and cared for him when he fainted. Up to that, Hoeun understood; but he could not find the link between that and “amusement.”

At that, Dongja stuffed the remaining rice ball into her mouth and said,

“It’s funny because the Captain changed.”

The pronunciation was slightly slurred, and after repeating her words several times, Hoeun finally understood. Dongja swallowed without much chewing and continued,

“After meeting the Young Master, the Captain now carries… a human scent.”

“A human scent?”

“What should I say…”

She frowned deeply, frustrated, scratching the side of her head.

“He used to have almost no expression.”

Gilsang helped, nodding. Dongja clapped her hands in agreement.

“That’s right. Whether he ate something delicious or disgusting, his expression never changed. He didn’t even smile when he ate mountains of beef. Can you believe that? Beef!”

Dongja shook her head emphatically, as if such a thing were impossible. Then Mansu added,

“He’d wander here and there, killing parasites. When he got tired, he looked like he was in pain, but when he got better, he was back to killing more…”

“Sometimes joking and laughing, sure. But, well, there was no real substance to him.”

“Because he had a body that couldn’t die, he lived without truly living.”

Mansu’s face fell, full of sympathy. Dongja gently tapped his back and brought the rice ball from his hand to his mouth. Mansu, still somber, opened his mouth and bit the rice ball.

“……”

Hoeun said nothing, sitting quietly. Only two pieces of pancake remained untouched on his plate; the rice ball lay perfectly formed on his handkerchief, untouched. He did not feel like eating anything.

While he appreciated that Taemuk had sought him, protected him, and even brought clothes, something left him uneasy. It was as though, on his already heavy shoulders, yet another burden had been placed.

Lost in thought, Hoeun was roused by Mansu’s call.

“Young Master.”

Hoeun did not reply, submerged in deep reflection.

“Young Master!”

Mansu called louder.

“Y-Yes?”

Startled, Hoeun replied after a pause, his shoulders trembling slightly.

“Why aren’t you eating? Is it because we’re always talking about things that ruin your appetite? I meant what I said—it’s a good thing…”

Mansu looked at him with concern. Hoeun shook his head calmly and mumbled a half-excuse, half-lie.

“No, it’s not that. I just ate too many potatoes this morning, so my stomach feels full.”

“Too many? What did you eat a lot of?”

Then, a familiar deep voice cut through Hoeun’s words.

“The Captain is here.”

Gilsang, still seated, nodded respectfully.

“Uh…”

Hoeun turned slowly, seeing Taemuk striding steadily between the trees.

He forgot to greet and instead scanned Taemuk’s body for injuries. There was blood spattered faintly on his cheek, but no clear wounds. It would be certain only upon seeing his bare skin, but for now, that was all.

Watching Taemuk approach, Hoeun’s breath caught, and he quickly diverted his gaze downward. The rice ball on his handkerchief remained untouched. Without knowing why, his hand instinctively reached out and grabbed it.

As he opened his small mouth wide to eat, a hand descended and suddenly snatched his wrist.

“Why are you eating?”

It was Taemuk. Hoeun looked up at him with wide, startled eyes.

“…Yes?”

“You said you were full.”

“Ah…”

Hoeun lowered his eyes again; his hand, caught by Taemuk, trembled. His heart pounded fiercely, while his limbs turned cold. At that moment, Taemuk sat beside him, took the rice ball from Hoeun’s hand, and handed it to Dongja.

“Eat this.”

Dongja blinked in surprise, staring at the rice ball. Normally, she would have taken it immediately, but for some reason, she seemed reluctant. This time, she passed it to Mansu instead.

“Or you can eat it.”

Mansu also only blinked at it, not taking the offering. These bastards… Taemuk furrowed his brows slightly.

“It looked like Young Master was going to eat it, so just give it to him.”

Gilsang said softly. Taemuk looked at Hoeun and asked,

“Will you eat it?”

“Uh, well… that is…”

Hoeun bit his lip, looking uneasy. Truthfully, he did not want to eat. Not because he felt sick or full, but because he simply disliked the rice ball.

Though it might seem spoiled to complain of side dishes in a battlefield, he feared eating it would upset his stomach. He might even vomit—and Taemuk would scold him. Just the thought made his stomach churn. The two pieces of pancake he’d eaten already felt like they might surge back up.

Suppressing his nausea, Hoeun lifted the plate with the pancakes that had rested on his lap.

“I prefer the pancakes. Yes, this is enough for me.”

“Good.”

Taemuk shot a look at Dongja and Mansu that said, Did you hear that? Then Dongja, finally closing her mouth, accepted the rice ball. She split it in two, giving the larger piece to Mansu. Mansu grinned, taking it and immediately biting into it,

“How many potatoes did the Young Master eat to be full with pancakes the size of his palm?”

“Three.”

Hoeun answered.

“Three pieces.”

Taemuk quickly corrected him. Hoeun had eaten exactly three pieces of potato, cut into quarters—not even a whole potato.

At first, he had gobbled down the first couple pieces with ease, so they wondered if he was actually eating well. But from the third piece onward, he began to chew slowly, saying he was full. It was almost ridiculous. Now he was proudly claiming to have eaten three pieces!

“……”

Hoeun lowered his eyes, embarrassed. He had always exaggerated how much he ate since childhood because his parents worried he ate too little.

He absentmindedly poked at the pancakes with his chopsticks until an idea struck him, and he offered the entire plate to Taemuk.

“W-Would you like some?”

Taemuk stared intently at the now-cold pancakes. Only a small corner had been nibbled off—like a squirrel had taken a single bite. Who in the world was he offering such a small portion to? Taemuk regarded the plate with displeasure.

“Captain, your meal has arrived.”

One of the Jeokudae soldiers brought a wide plate piled high with rice balls and steaming pancakes, freshly cooked. Hoeun’s own plate suddenly seemed pitifully empty.

“Ah…”

Hoeun quietly set his plate down. But then, suddenly, Taemuk snatched the chopsticks from his hand. Hoeun could do nothing but watch, powerless.

Taemuk transferred the pancakes from Hoeun’s plate to his own. Hoeun thought maybe Taemuk had gone from forcing him to eat to now wanting him to starve. Yet Taemuk began moving three piping hot pancakes from his own plate to Hoeun’s.

“Uh…”

Hoeun stared, looking foolish. Taemuk then slid the chopsticks back into his fingers and said,

“I don’t want to see you weak, so eat it all.”

“All of this?”

“Yes. All.”

“……”

Hoeun’s eyes fixed on the pancakes dripping with oil. His gaze dimmed and then blurred.

“If I… can’t eat it…”

Memories of the stern, terrifying, fearful Taemuk flashed before him, making his throat tighten as if blocked. His trembling hands clutched the plate.

Taemuk looked at Hoeun, then abruptly turned his head and said,

“Then throw it away.”

Though his voice had a hint of irritation, the meaning was clear: it was fine to leave food uneaten. Knowing Taemuk, he would never scold him for wasting food.

Feeling reassured, Hoeun picked up his chopsticks, tore off a piece of the pancake, and popped it into his mouth. The warm, crispy pancake still tasted delicious.