Chapter 229

After that, the two finished painting the kites.

And just as the once-white kites became filled with color, Mansu called to Hoeun again—this time in a serious voice.

“Young master.”

“Yes, hyung.”

Still fired up from their earlier conversation, Hoeun answered crisply.

Mansu looked straight into Hoeun’s eyes.

Hoeun returned the gaze, suddenly tense, wondering what he was about to say.

Then Mansu parted his lips and asked—

“Got any chocolate left?”

“…What?”

“I’m craving something sweet.”

For a moment, Hoeun stared in disbelief.

Then his eyes curved into crescents as laughter burst out of him.

The clear sound of his laughter rang brightly through the air—far too cheerful for a battlefield.

* * *

“How do I look?”

Early the next morning, Hoeun spread his arms.

He was dressed in a full military uniform of the Korean Empire.

A strange tension lingered on his face.

The unfamiliar clothing felt awkward.

Taemuk wore this every day.

Every soldier outside wore the same uniform.

And yet, on himself, it felt entirely foreign.

“Pretty.”

Taemuk, lounging casually on the floor, answered with suspicious indifference.

“…Shouldn’t that be a bad thing?”

Hoeun asked with a dubious expression.

He hadn’t expected to be called handsome.

But surely something like it suits you was possible.

Pretty?

No matter how frail he was, he was still a man.

Not elegant.

Not graceful.

Pretty?

“Can’t help it.”

Taemuk remained firm.

His face was expressionless.

But his gaze stayed locked onto Hoeun.

He hadn’t even blinked.

“……”

Hoeun’s lips stiffened awkwardly.

What exactly did can’t help it even mean?

Sniffling once for no reason, he lowered his head and fiddled with the buttons on his chest.

The gold buttons were engraved with plum blossoms.

The raised pattern felt oddly pleasant beneath his fingers.

As he stared down at them, the ribbon-tied strands of his hair slipped over his shoulder.

The fluttering silk ribbon gleamed painfully bright today.

It stood out starkly against the black military uniform.

“Should I change the ribbon too? Something darker?”

Hoeun asked again.

“No. This is good.”

Taemuk replied immediately.

“It’s pretty.”

Again.

Firm.

Definitive.

“……”

Hoeun stared at him blankly.

Since earlier, Taemuk had basically given the same answer every time.

At this point, asking felt meaningless.

Maybe expecting an objective opinion from Taemuk had been his mistake.

Shaking his head, Hoeun walked toward him.

“This uniform came with me from Hanyang. I just never thought to wear it until now.”

When he first left home, he had wanted to wear it.

But somewhere along the way, that desire disappeared.

Because no matter what—

he was already Jeokudae.

Even without the uniform.

Even without the cloak.

He belonged to Jeokudae.

Still, the reason he suddenly put it on today was practical.

He didn’t want to stand out.

A black military uniform blended far better into the mountain than bright flowing silk.

Jeokudae’s camp was stationed halfway up the mountain.

That gave them excellent visibility.

But it also meant enemies from the riverside or plains could spot them easily.

That was why they avoided setting up tents unless absolutely necessary.

And when they did, branches and foliage were piled on top as camouflage.

The horses were kept farther down the mountain.

At night, no fires were lit.

They moved only under moonlight.

“Wear whatever you want.”

Taemuk tapped his thigh.

“You’ll look pretty in anything.”

Naturally, Hoeun sat down between his legs.

Taemuk wrapped him up in his arms.

“…Please stop saying pretty.”

Hoeun muttered sulkily.

Taemuk rested his cheek against Hoeun’s.

“Why?”

He spoke lazily.

“Is that improper too?”

Then his lips curved.

“Still better than saying cock, isn’t it?”

“……”

Hoeun whipped around instantly.

The vulgar word had appeared out of nowhere.

He stared at Taemuk.

Then—

“Haa…”

He sighed and turned away again.

These days, hearing words like that no longer made Hoeun jump like a startled squirrel.

He had reached the point of resignation.

Taemuk found that deeply disappointing.

Hoeun’s shocked reactions had always been adorable.

Taemuk wrapped both arms around Hoeun’s waist and chest and pressed kisses to the pale nape of his neck.

Maybe because Hoeun wore a uniform instead of layers of hanbok, he felt even smaller than usual.

Which somehow made him even cuter.

Like a roasted chestnut.

Or a tiny baby potato.

Taemuk shoved his nose between Hoeun’s collar and neck, rubbing lazily.

“Stop…”

Feeling ticklish, Hoeun hunched his shoulders.

“I don’t want to.”

Taemuk answered with childish stubbornness.

Then he slipped his hand inside Hoeun’s clothes.

Hoeun groaned softly, forcing down his irritation.

That made Taemuk smile silently.

He could practically see what Hoeun was thinking.

Taemuk is my superior.

He deserves respect.

I shouldn’t get angry.

Knowing that only made Taemuk want to tease him more.

Why was tormenting this proper young master so entertaining?

Ah.

Maybe it was precisely because he was such a proper young master.

For a long while, Taemuk kneaded and teased him with shameless affection.

Hoeun squirmed a few times before eventually losing all resistance and slumping against him.

At last he gave up entirely.

Fine. Whatever.

So instead, he played with Taemuk’s hand.

He absentmindedly stroked Taemuk’s thigh—thick and solid like a tree trunk.

They were enjoying this rare peaceful moment early in the morning when—

“……”

Suddenly, Taemuk’s previously relaxed chest went rigid.

He stared toward the tent entrance for a moment.

Then he carefully lifted Hoeun off his lap and stood up.

Positioning himself squarely in front of him.

Shielding him with his broad back.

“General?”

Hoeun looked up at him in confusion.

Then—

“Commander!”

A soldier burst into the tent without warning.

Extremely rude.

Especially since Hoeun was present.

But Taemuk didn’t react.

He only stared at the soldier.

As if he already sensed something ominous.

Sure enough—

“A kite has gone up across the river!”

The soldier shouted.

Hoeun shot to his feet.

Standing at the edge of camp, Hoeun pressed the telescope tightly to his eye.

Across the rolling Amnok River, in the open plains beyond—

a single black kite floated in the air.

Drifting slowly in the wind.

At a glance, it almost looked like a bird.

It was one of the kites Hoeun and Mansu had painted yesterday.

“It looks like they’re close.”

Hoeun lowered the telescope.

His face was tense.

That kite had been launched by the soldiers stationed across the river to monitor the Sikgoe.

Black meant—

the enemy had appeared.

That meant the advance group they had seen days ago—

the fan-shaped Sikgoe leading two to three hundred others—

had likely arrived.

They were probably scouting the terrain.

Checking safety.

“……”

Taemuk narrowed his eyes and stared at the distant horizon.

Fortunately, the Sikgoe still weren’t visible from here.

That meant there was still some time.

Not plenty.

But not desperately little either.

“Proceed as planned.”

Taemuk gave the order.

“Yes!”

The soldiers responded sharply.

Then they exchanged quick looks and began sprinting down the mountain.

Their speed was astonishing.

Dust exploded beneath their feet until the mountain itself seemed swallowed by a haze.

Watching from above, their black-clad figures darting between trees looked like wild predators descending.

It was a breathtaking sight.

The soldiers reached the riverbank in moments.

Over the enormous pits they had dug over the past several days, they dragged wide heavy structures into place.

They looked like giant gates.

No—

almost like fortress doors.

Thick.

Massive.

Heavy.

They sealed the pits with them.

Then covered everything with dirt and leaves.

Everyone moved with swift efficiency.

As if every person already knew exactly what their role was.

The same was true in camp.

“I’ll help too.”

Hoeun squeezed Taemuk’s hand once before letting go.

“Okay.”

Taemuk allowed it without much concern.

This operation wasn’t especially dangerous.

Hoeun wouldn’t leave camp.

And Taemuk himself would remain nearby.

It was safe enough.

Hoeun immediately turned and joined the soldiers.

The camp had to disappear.

They had to disappear too.

If the enemy spotted them, everything would fail.

Hoeun covered tents with leaves.

Removed flags.

Carried small visible items back inside tents.

Taemuk watched him briefly.

Then turned his attention back to the horizon.

By shortly after noon, the Sikgoe appeared.

By then, Jeokudae had already finished all preparations and hidden themselves.

The soldiers concealed themselves in pits dug into the ground.

Or behind large trees and rocks.

Hoeun had been placed inside a specially prepared tent.

It was a low triangular structure, so short he had to crawl inside.

Branches and leaves covered the top.

The front was slightly open, allowing him to see outside.

“……”

Through the telescope, Hoeun watched the Sikgoe.

They moved steadily closer.

Step by step.

Closer.

Closer.

And by the time the sunset began staining the sky—

they had reached the riverbank.