dreams spun in berries & fluff
    Chapter Index

    Rate on NU

    Chapter 117

    The fabric shop was not large, yet it possessed all that one could need. Faced with jackets, skirts, padded coats, and garments in a seemingly endless array, Hoeun drew in a sharp breath. Then, as though bewitched, he drifted toward them, eyes sparkling brighter than ever before.

    He did not rest as he selected garments, nor did his mouth cease moving. Taemuk had known that Hoeun was not a quiet person, yet even he had not realized the extent of it.

    “I have not often chosen clothes myself, so I do not know whether I can select well. At times, I accompanied Mother when she had garments tailored—oh, how is this yellow skirt? Jeongyi looks very good in yellow ribbons, so surely this yellow skirt would suit her as well.”

    “……”

    “Hm… I would prefer the silk to be a little thicker. The jeogori¹ as well—since it is winter clothing… oh, here are socks. We should buy socks as well, should we not? Hm… which would be warmest… It would be best to buy the embroidered ones all in different patterns. So there is no confusion.”

    “……”

    “Yes? Ah, are you the shopkeeper? You have gloves too? Excellent. Please show me. Ah… this one seems like the wind will go straight through. Do you have ones with cotton stuffing or fur? No—those are winter caps, aren’t they? Yes, of course we must buy winter caps. Please show me every color.”

    “……”

    “General, what do you think of this? It is for Jungwoo… Jungwoo worries me most. He is still young and will grow much. How much will he grow? What if he grows a whole handspan in a year? I cannot guess what size to buy… yet if it is too large, it will be uncomfortable. And his leg is still healing… hm… there is nothing to be done. I must buy three sets so he can wear them year by year. This one for now, this for when he is eight, this for when he is nine.”

    “……”

    “If only I could buy them new clothes for every season and every year—oh heavens, look at these ribbons! Are they not beautiful? We must get ribbons for the children as well. Or perhaps two each, so they can choose according to mood. No—three each would be better.”

    Hoeun behaved as if he intended to purchase the entire shop. And still, he never asked the price—only examined quality. He weighed thickness, rubbed fabrics between his palms, and pondered which would best shield the little ones from winter’s bite.

    The shopkeeper’s smile stretched nearly to his ears. Taemuk, too, smiled—though only one corner of his mouth lifted, it was a smile nonetheless.

    Thus Hoeun selected eighteen jackets, ten skirts, four pairs of trousers, fifteen ribbons, six pairs of gloves, nineteen pairs of socks, and six winter caps, all in different sizes and colors—a feat of astonishing discernment.

    At last, Taemuk, who had remained silent since entering, spoke.

    “Why not simply buy the whole shop.”

    He meant it as sarcasm, yet Hoeun brightened as if he had spoken something delightful.

    “Is that possible?”

    “……”

    Taken aback, Taemuk fell silent, and Hoeun continued in all seriousness,

    “My brothers often purchase shops or buildings they require, but I have never bought one myself.”

    “……”

    “Should I attempt it this time?”

    “……”

    Taemuk turned his head away without answering. If he spoke further, something felt dangerous. Hoeun blinked innocently, waiting, but the shopkeeper interrupted to ask whether he would be paying. Hoeun nodded.

    The shopkeeper worked his abacus furiously. The sum was so great that his fingertips grew red. Meanwhile, Hoeun retrieved his silk pouch from his waist—but froze as soon as he held it.

    It was… light. Far too light.

    “……”

    A light pouch—an unprecedented occurrence. Yet he was not confused; he understood. He had spent this himself. He had given a generous handful to the doctor in Ramjae Town, then left another as thanks to the family who offered shelter. Of course his purse was thin.

    Still—this was troubling. It would not be enough.

    Unable to bring himself to open the pouch, Hoeun only fidgeted with it. Sensing something amiss, the shopkeeper’s once-warm gaze chilled.

    “Is something wrong?”

    Hoeun swallowed. Then he turned anxious eyes toward Taemuk.

    “Um… General.”

    “What.”

    “I am short of money.”

    “And?”

    “Please lend me some.”

    “What?”

    “I will repay you when we return to the base.”

    “……”

    “I will certainly repay it. Absolutely.”

    Hoeun’s voice bordered on pleading.

    “……”

    Taemuk did not answer. Growing more desperate, Hoeun stepped closer and began offering explanations unasked.

    “You may not know, but I am of the Gyeongju Choi clan. Our family holds tens of thousands of pyeong² of land, and in Hanyang we live in a house second only to Gyeongbok Palace, and the stable holds—”

    Hoeun trailed off—not because he forgot how many horses they owned, but because Taemuk’s eyes had grown cold enough to freeze marrow. Startled, Hoeun bit his lower lip.

    “So.”

    Taemuk’s tone suggested he should continue. Hoeun swallowed and nodded.

    “It is to say that I always repay debts. Actually, I have never borrowed money before, but—anyway, I would never fail to repay you.”

    “……”

    Still, Taemuk did not answer. Hoeun waited, trembling slightly. Meanwhile, the shopkeeper looked between them, baffled.

    To the eye, the jade-robed young noble clearly appeared wealthier than the wild-looking soldier. Taemuk, with his beastlike aura, did not seem the type associated with great wealth. Not a beggar—rather, like a tiger: fearsome, powerful, but not rich.

    Just as suspicion began to bloom—perhaps Taemuk refused simply because he could not lend—the general leaned slightly toward Hoeun.

    “I have money.”

    “……”

    Hoeun blinked slowly, then replied as though this was the most natural statement in the world,

    “Of course. You are the General.”

    Which was precisely why Hoeun had tried borrowing from him. The stipend of a general could not be small; he assumed Taemuk could easily afford several pieces of clothing.

    Taemuk let out a breath that was half-laughter, half-resignation. He leaned closer, gesturing at the pile of garments with his jaw.

    “So I meant that I don’t care about getting back such pocket change from you.”

    Realization dawned on Hoeun; he nodded solemnly.

    “Ah, so that is what you meant.”

    He now understood why Taemuk seemed irritated—his pride had been pricked. To speak of repayment over such a trivial sum… Hoeun now chastised himself silently. With earnest sincerity, he declared,

    “Then please give me money.”

    “…What?”

    Taemuk stared as if he had misheard. But Hoeun continued with perfect composure.

    “No—please give me a lot. I have many things to buy.”

    “……”

    Taemuk stiffened utterly, dumbstruck. Hoeun urged him impatiently,

    “Quickly.”

    “…Ha…”

    Taemuk tipped his head back. This was not the conversation he had intended. Hoeun’s reactions defied every expectation. Now what? He had already boasted of wealth; refusing to give money would be absurd. If this had been luxury for himself, Taemuk could have scolded him — but Hoeun’s heart had been nothing but warm. It could not be dismissed.

    So, reluctantly, Taemuk reached for his pouch. Yet before he could open it, Hoeun snatched it whole, weighing it in his hand before opening it and smiling in satisfaction at the sight of thick bills.

    Then he flashed the shopkeeper a radiant grin.

    “Do you happen to sell ornaments as well?”

    Hoeun stepped out of the fabric shop wearing an expression of pure bliss. The shopkeeper promised to deliver the purchase to the inn. Hoeun wrote the inn’s address in the ledger and, in the name field, carefully wrote Jeongyi’s name.

    Imagining the children’s surprise and delight, he could not hold back a soft, delighted giggle.

    “So happy?”

    Taemuk, walking beside him, asked. Hoeun nodded vigorously.

    Footnotes

    1. Jeogori (저고리) — Traditional Korean upper garment, worn as part of hanbok. 
    2. Pyeong (평) — A Korean unit of land area; 1 pyeong ≈ 3.3 square meters. 

     

    Note