BW C115

Chapter 115

He had not meant he would behave childishly before Taemuk; he merely wished to leave that possibility open — to receive permission for it.

“…….”

Taemuk’s eyes narrowed to slits. His tongue brushed behind his lower lip. After a brief, idle moment of thought, he drawled,

“Well, I already know you’re a lacking noble, so I don’t mind.”

At that, Hoeun’s eyes narrowed.

“Tch…”

He freely admitted he was physically a little — no, quite considerably — frail. But stupid? Absolutely not. He had been called bright more than once. Granted, it had always been by his parents, by his elder brothers, or by Deok-woo… but still. He was not foolish.

Hoeun parted his lips to refute him—

“……”

—but closed them again. Come to think of it, he had acted rather foolish in front of Taemuk repeatedly. Any explanation would only invite ridicule.

He sniffed quietly, gaze shifting forward. During their exchange, the light ahead had drawn nearer — then suddenly, light engulfed his body.

“Wow…”

The moment the town unfolded before his eyes, Hoeun opened his mouth wide in unrestrained awe. He forgot Taemuk had told him moments ago not to show excitement.

But he was not the only one stunned. Even the refugees, faces streaked with grime, stared with wide-eyed wonder. Such a sight warranted it.

Light filled the town.

Lanterns hung from every tree like ripening apples, and lanterns of all shapes dangled beneath the eaves like icy stalactites.

Most striking of all — lanterns clustered thick along the stream that circled the town. Countless lights rippled across the water’s surface, as if fire, not water, flowed through the channel.

“So many…”

So much light. Now he understood why the walls had been built so high and thick. Had they been any lower, this glow would have spread far and wide — drawing Shikgoe like moths.

While Hoeun stared, spellbound, Taemuk guided the horse with practiced ease. He seemed utterly unfazed — as though he had been here before. Still locked on the lights, Hoeun asked,

“What is this town’s name?”

“Myeonghwa-eup.”

“Myeonghwa… The ‘bright’ 明 and ‘flower’ 花, yes?”

“Probably.”

“A town where light blooms like flowers… it is magnificent. I never imagined I would witness such a sight in my lifetime…”

His eyes glittered like the lanterns themselves. Indeed, leaving home had been worth it. Had he stayed locked away in his room, he would never have dreamt of such a view. Turning his head left and right, he chattered, unable to contain his curiosity.

“Why is it so bright here?”

The night was brilliant, and there were so many people. Did they sleep by day and live by night? Or was it merely early evening? He pondered — then Taemuk gave an unexpected answer.

“Because they fear the night.”

“Fear it? The night?”

“Yes. You never know what lurks in the dark.”

“Ah…”

Hoeun’s lips parted softly. He had thought the lights existed simply to dispel darkness — but no. They were a bulwark against what hid within it. To these people, lanterns were like iron bars in the walls, fending off terror.

Suddenly, the lights seemed less beautiful. Or rather — still beautiful, but tinged with melancholy.

Silent now, he watched the town roll past. Streets, alleys, shops lined with hanging lanterns — [Myeonghwa High School], [Floating Lantern Restaurant], [Jinan Fabric Shop], [Hwayeong Hall], [Joyang Store], [Stream Bookshop], [Myeongbaek Clinic], [Myeonghwa Post Office], [Riverside Photo Studio]…

Taemuk turned into a narrow alley and soon halted before a building.

[Myeonghwa Inn]

An inn. But unlike inns of the past providing meals and lodging, this one sheltered refugees — helping them settle, find homes, find work, send children to school. All funded by taxes.

Taemuk dismounted first, then naturally reached back. Hoeun, now accustomed to receiving help, took his shoulder and let him assist him down. Ever since nearly crashing head-first yesterday, Taemuk had insisted on helping him dismount.

Landing lightly, jade ribbons fluttering, Hoeun brushed his hair back and asked,

“How many nights will we stay here?”

“We’re not. We leave immediately.”

“…Immediately?”

“Yes. I’ve been away from the base too long.”

“……”

Hoeun’s face clouded. Taemuk noticed.

“What. Want to look around?”

He had no intention of letting Hoeun wander this glowing town like an excited chick, but he could imagine the desire. For a young master raised only in Hanyang, everything must seem wondrous. Even a tall tree, clear sky, deep river — Hoeun always gasped and puckered his lips, “Ooh…” so easily.

But contrary to expectation, Hoeun shook his head.

“No, sir. Only…”

“Only?”

“Thinking about parting with the children tonight makes my heart ache.”

They could not take the children to the front. Even if he selfishly insisted, the battlefield was no place for them — danger would stalk them constantly. Impossible.

So they must part tonight. He knew it would come, yet did not expect it so soon. It felt abrupt. Cruel.

He worried his lower lip, sorrow flickering, then straightened with forced composure.

“S-Still, I should rejoice that we part alive, yes? So long as we live, we can meet again someday…”

Yet his hands clenched his sleeve tight.

“……”

Taemuk offered no reply. Something about that silence made Hoeun drop his head, embarrassed. Just then, Byeonguk returned from inside.

“Commander, the innkeeper is waiting. Please come in.”

“Mm.”

Taemuk stepped toward the entrance. Hoeun instinctively moved to follow, but Taemuk halted and nodded behind him.

“You go eat over there.”

Hoeun turned. There — the Ramjae town refugees, Jeongwoo, Jeongi, and the girls. His lashes shot up.

“O-Okay!”

He called brightly and sprinted toward them without a backward glance.

“……”

Taemuk watched the fluttering jade ribbon a moment, then entered the inn.

Hoeun sat with the girls in the inn’s dining hall. It was large — enough to seat over a hundred refugees.

Staff served hot doenjang soup and barley rice. The barley was dry, the soup thin and nearly bare of ingredients — yet refugees ate greedily. So did the girls. Hoeun helped young Jeongwoo, who still struggled with his spoon.

Even while devouring their food, the girls chattered.

“Young master, did y’all see the lanterns hangin’ on them trees on the way?”

“Yes, I saw. There were so many.”

“And them lanterns floatin’ on the river too?”

“Of course. I saw those as well. Truly beautiful.”

“If we live here, do we get to see things like that every single day?”

“I reckon this place is way nicer than Ramjae Town. Ramjae just had wind whippin’ everywhere — nothin’ pretty to look at…”

They gushed about Myeonghwa-eup. But suddenly Jeongi’s eyes sharpened.

“What’s so great about here? Our town was prettier. Climbin’ the hill and lookin’ down at the whole place — that was somethin’.”

“Well… that’s true. Even in summer the wind kept blowin’, so we never even had time to sweat.”

Agreeing murmurs followed. Soon, memories welled — and melancholy with them. Hoeun could not comfort them; he merely fed Jeongwoo quietly. Then Jeongi asked,

“Young master, why ain’t you eatin’? Are you sick?”

Hoeun flinched, shaking his head quickly.

“No, nothing like that.”

To prove it, he forced a large spoonful of rice down. He needed to tell them they must part — but the words stuck. How could he burden them with another farewell when they had not even finished grieving their lost town?

He exhaled long through his nose and chewed the dry rice. It scraped his throat.

After the meal, he escorted the girls and Jeongwoo to their assigned room. Then he slipped away, asking Jeokudae soldiers where Taemuk was. Eventually, he found him — seated on the wooden porch connected to the yard, smoking. His uniformed back was as familiar now as his father’s or Deok-woo’s.

Hoeun tip-toed toward him, though there was no need; Taemuk surely knew he was approaching long before.

“M-My lord… Taemuk.”

He swallowed dryly and spoke low.

“What.”

Taemuk did not turn; the cigarette muffled his words. Hoeun stepped a bit closer.

“May I go outside for a moment?”

“For what.”

“I would like to purchase something before returning to camp.”

“What.”

“U-Um… a few things.”

“‘A few things’ what? Speak plainly.”

Taemuk glanced back, brows knitting in irritation at the evasiveness. Startled, Hoeun brought his hands together at his lower belly, lowering his head as he whispered,

“C-Clothes. I wish to buy the children a set of clothes. Or shoes, at least… Winter is coming, and I fear they will freeze in what they have now…”

Footnotes

1. Myeonghwa-eup (明花邑)literally “Bright-Flower Town” name carries symbolism of light blooming like blossoms 
2. Doenjang soup fermented soybean paste soup staple Korean dish, often simple in wartime settings.