SFNFS Ch 5

Chapter 5

“That neat freak knew about a place like this? Isn’t it kind of surprising?”

“Yes… but the drinks are so good, I can kind of understand.”

“Right? At first, I was like, ‘Why on earth did he bring me to a place like this?’ and was just confused, but after tasting the liquor once, I understood. After that, I ended up liking it even more.”

“Is that so?”

“Every time I came to Seogyeong, we’d come here together. Every time, we’d stop by, drink until we were staggering from noon, and I’d end up being carried out…”

Laughing brightly as he happily recalled old memories, Bipa suddenly trailed off and let out a deflating sigh. Then, muttering self-deprecatingly, “Ah, I must’ve looked like such a fool just now,” he downed another glass of liquor.

In truth, coming here in the first place was already a ridiculous thing to do. If he was going to be so affected by what others said about him, he should never have come to a place filled with memories of the time they spent together. He shouldn’t have sat in the same seat they used to share, nor drank the same liquor they used to enjoy.

“It’s like I was hoping someone else would talk about it for me—”

Muttering to himself, Bipa chuckled awkwardly. As Bipa’s long and meaningless laughter filled the air, Baekbong quietly listened for a while before asking,

“Are you all right?”

“Of course I am.”

Bipa answered as if he had prepared for the question in advance. But because it was such an immediate response, it didn’t feel convincing in the slightest. As Baekbong fell silent again, Bipa let out another empty laugh.

“To be honest, I knew it from the beginning. He’s such a sharp, exacting person, of course he was going to glare at me like that. I expected it.”

“…”

“So it’s not like I have a reason not to be okay, right?”

And yet, his face looked far too wounded for that to be true. He didn’t look okay at all.

“I’m fine, really… I’m fine.”

And with that, he drank again. Scrunching his nose in a way that didn’t suit him, he let out a loud, satisfied “Kha-!” It was a drunken reaction he’d never had before, likely picked up from the old men they had been drinking with earlier. Sitting across from him, Baekbong watched Bipa’s exaggerated performance in silence.

“By the way, this liquor really is delicious. Is it because I haven’t had any in a while? Come to think of it, this is my first drink in two years!”

“Then you shouldn’t overdo it. Your body probably hasn’t fully recovered yet—”

“It’s fine, really. If just this much liquor was going to be a problem, I wouldn’t have made it this far. The physician wouldn’t have allowed it, and neither would my family.”

“…”

That much was true.

If his condition had been bad enough that drinking a little would be dangerous, he wouldn’t even have been able to leave Seoha yet.

Since he said he was fine, he must be fine. Thinking that way to put his own mind at ease, Baekbong emptied the cup that had been refilled before he noticed.

As Bipa poured another clear stream of liquor with a gurgling sound, Baekbong quietly watched him, until suddenly loud cheers erupted from outside. It wasn’t anything unusual—just people enjoying the peak of the Grand Festival.

The one and only bright night of the year.

A night of “Yeongbyeol,” a rare and extraordinary energy-filled evening, with Jeju’s spiritual power glowing brightly in Ilwolju.

“They say the Grand Festival in Seogyeong is something truly special… shouldn’t we go see it for ourselves?”

That’s what Bipa had said to the escort guards when he suddenly changed their course, but now he looked like someone with absolutely no interest in festivals or celebrations.

As if, from the beginning, his heart had been elsewhere entirely.

The original plan had been to travel by boat from Seoha to Gwangnyangjin, then ride horses straight to Gaegyeong. There were predetermined stops along the way to switch horses and let Bipa rest. But Seogyeong had never been part of that itinerary.

If they hadn’t heard about Seogyeong’s Grand Festival and its connection to Jeju while stopping at the Gwangnyangpo teahouse, they would’ve been resting comfortably somewhere on the road to Gaegyeong by now.

“He probably didn’t recognize you.”

“Hm?”

“It all happened so fast, maybe he didn’t even look in this direction.”

It was a clumsy attempt at comfort.

Knowing just how anxious and desperate Bipa’s expression had been as he rode nonstop from the port to Seogyeong, Baekbong couldn’t help but offer some kind of consolation.

“You were on horseback, so your line of sight would’ve been different. With so many people around, even a high-ranking general might not have been able to recognize you.”

Bipa appreciated the sentiment behind Baekbong’s words and simply smiled. He nodded, as if agreeing.

“You’re right. That might’ve been the case.”

But even so, he didn’t foolishly cling to that faint possibility.

The man Bipa knew was someone who could spot a lurking ghost hiding behind distant bushes. Someone who could shoot arrows from horseback and pierce a falling leaf. There was no way he wouldn’t have sensed Bipa. No way he wouldn’t have seen him, face fully exposed without even a veil.

And he had—he had looked at him.

Even though it was just a fleeting moment in reality, it had felt like a long, deep gaze. The man had passed by at a decent speed, yet to Bipa, it had felt incredibly slow.

His whole body felt drained, as though the energy had poured out from the soles of his feet, his soul trembling in its wake.

If he were to make a strange claim—it felt like that moment of connection couldn’t have been one-sided. The strange shift in time that Bipa had felt… the man must have sensed it too.

And that’s why Bipa’s heart ached so much.

During that brief, yet seemingly eternal moment, Bipa had read his eyes all too clearly.

Hwa Geonryeon.

They had known each other for more than three autumns. At first, it was just their eyes meeting. Then their hands. And then, their hearts. Eventually, they began visiting each other’s chambers, and just before everything fell apart, they had even spoken of living together—marriage.

They had shared a relationship so close, so intertwined.

So how could he brush it all off so cleanly?

To Bipa, eyes were windows.

Windows into the soul that showed true emotion.

Facial expressions could be faked, but not the look in one’s eyes.

And in his, Bipa had seen surprise, irritation, resentment, disbelief… and perhaps even a bit of hatred. Bipa couldn’t name them all, but all the emotions had hurt, had tasted bitter.

Remembering that gaze, Bipa’s chest ached as if pricked again, and he bit his lower lip without realizing it.

No matter how hard he pretended to be okay, it was impossible to suppress the rising wave of sorrow.

Feeling stifled, Bipa pressed down hard on his chest and let out a hollow laugh before speaking, his tongue now completely slurred with drunkenness.

“But do you know what’s funny, Baekbong?”

“…What is it?”

Baekbong looked like he didn’t particularly want to know, but still asked dutifully.

“I drink to forget him… but the more I drink, the more I end up thinking about him. Do you know why that is, Baekbong?”

“…Why?”

“Because it was him—he was the one who gave me my first drink.”

Ever since he was young, he had been sickly, causing endless worry for his family. After living on countless medicinal brews, his health had improved somewhat thanks to taking Pyeweoldan, but his family’s overprotectiveness had persisted.

So until well past his twentieth birthday, Bipa had never had a single drop of alcohol. And the one who filled his very first glass was him.

It had been right here, in this very place, that he had learned how to drink—taught by that man, long ago. As he recalled it, Bipa let out a silly, soft smile.

Even now, looking back, it had been such a good time.

“Isn’t this weaker than I thought? As long as you stay focused, you can totally keep it together. Don’t I look fine right now? I don’t feel sick or anything… My face isn’t even red. My eyes are sharp, right? See? Booze isn’t as big a deal as everyone makes it out to be.”

“If you’re already not fine after one glass, that’d be a serious problem. Though, it does look like we’re already there.”

“I’m amazing, aren’t I? For my first drink ever, I’m doing so well. Don’t you think I’m impressive?”

“…Yes, let’s say you are.”

“If I drink this whole bottle and stay fine, can I call myself a heavy drinker?”

“It’s a strong drink, so I think you’d have every right.”

“Then I want to try finishing this. I feel like I can handle it. I heard my father was an excellent drinker—maybe I inherited that. Shouldn’t I find out for myself?”

“Go ahead, let’s see if that’s true.”

“Just drinking is boring. Should we make it a bet?”

“A bet? On what?”

“A wish-granting bet?”

“I’m scared of what kind of wish that might be.”

“It won’t be anything too crazy. Um… if I finish this and stay sober, you have to sleep with me. How about it?”

“Let’s do it.”

“…Really?”

“Haha. Really.”

“Are you serious? Truly?”

“If that’s truly your wish.”

“I mean, it is but… really? You’ll do that with me? You’re not teasing?”

“I’m being sincere.”

“…”

“And to be honest… I hope you are a proper drinker.”

“A proper drinker…?”

“If it’s the first night we begin a real relationship, there are many things we’ll need to do. We could go until dawn and still not be finished.”

“Hah…”

“So please, stay sober. I’d rather not end up being the kind of rake who sleeps with someone completely wasted.”