Hae-gang put more strength into his embracing arms and said so. Then the rich scent of trumpet creeper, holding summer sunlight, spread and seeped into Mok-young’s breath.
Mok-young unknowingly swallowed a slow, deep breath, flinched at the dizziness at his eyes’ corners, and moved his arms to embrace Hae-gang in return. Too late — he’d already embraced him. His face too was about to bury in Hae-gang’s nape.
He’d lost his guard. Mok-young newly realized. Since the wedding night, his resistance to being drawn to this man’s yang energy had considerably lowered. He’d become a bit more instinctive in response.
But he didn’t feel like re-establishing boundaries now. Already given and already taken — Go Hae-gang had already become his man.
How surprised he must have been. Seeing him groan so extremely in peaceful sleep, as if his breath would stop at any moment. Especially hearing this man might not last the year. And of all people… to have given his first affection to such a man.
“Are you truly alright?”
Mok-young, still uneasy, belatedly asked Hae-gang about his condition again.
“Mm. I said I’m fine—”
Hae-gang’s returning answer was light. As if he’d never groaned so — a hint of relief, but Mok-young still couldn’t fully believe. So to seriously recommend a physician’s examination again, he tried to rise — but at the sign of it, Hae-gang put strength in his arms again and held Mok-young firmly.
“Wife, your energy is cooling me down. It feels just like lying on a snowfield, so very good. So, let’s stay like this just a little longer.” And Hae-gang bound Mok-young tight with words too.
“I somehow… don’t feel your energy harms me.”
“You say that after spending a whole day groaning when you got up?”
“Ah, that was, well — a green boy, overjoyed, running wild, uh—…”
“Shut it.”
Mok-young barely raised one hand to clamp over Hae-gang’s mouth, lifted his head, narrowed his eyes fiercely, and said. Hae-gang blinked a few times then smiled; seeing it, Mok-young thought the brat must be fine, let out a shallow sigh, and loosened his hand.
Then Hae-gang raised his hand to wrap Mok-young’s hand, and instead of pulling it from his mouth, pressed it to his cheek, gazing into Mok-young’s eyes.
“Don’t speak so fiercely, wife.”
“You’d best spare your words.”
Somehow sensing Hae-gang would say something sinister, Mok-young preempted. But this was no Hae-gang to yield to that.
“Then, instead of sparing words, with my body—”
“I’ll summon Physician Cheong.”
“Ah, a joke. A joke. I’ll just quietly hold you.”
No — he’d tried not to yield, but his wife grew ever more stern. Today he should be grateful he could at least hold him, not just hold his hand, while sleeping.
<p style=”text-align: center;”>* * *</p>
A banquet was held. The sky was high and clear, but a chilly winter wind blew, making it an unusually cold day — yet before Yeolliwon, gates flung wide to welcome guests, it was a bustling scene.
The most-watched couple in Bukanseong was holding a grand banquet — who’d miss this chance? Celebrating Great General Danmok’s birthday while officially introducing his newly wedded family — everyone who’d received an invitation attended, not one missing.
Hae-gang stood out as ever today. He wasn’t dressed in splendid ceremonial robes like on the wedding day, but whatever he wore became a picture; just gazing at him was worth attending. Many had indeed come for that “purpose.”
At the wedding held in the palace’s front courtyard that day, watching the couple from afar was all they could do. The couple had left right after the ceremony ended — how disappointing. Moreover, those who could witness that wedding were limited, so their wistful tales had stimulated many gossips’ curiosity.
The General they saw often enough to be used to, but his wife had stayed holed up in Yeolliwon since, hardly communicating with the outside — curiosity about him only grew daily. At most he’d visited the General’s family home a few times, and about that only the small anecdotes the Danogwan trainees let slip could be heard — all the more tantalizing.
So it was no surprise that people gathered like clouds at Yeolliwon today. Invited officials and acquaintances didn’t come alone but brought their families, who wanted to see the peerlessly beautiful prince — seats might run short.
“I fancied myself as one who’s seen my share of handsome people, but my discernment was lacking.”
“Can such a person exist in this world?”
“Mysterious. Lovely yet not pretty, at a glance… manly, yet the lines are graceful.”
“Well… isn’t that what they call beautiful? Beauty can’t be clearly defined, and it transcends gender.”
Guests entering the gate, exchanging brief greetings with Hae-gang who personally welcomed them, then pushed aside by the surging crowd, busily traded impressions. Though handsome people weren’t that rare, and Bukwi surely had its share of fine men and women, everyone’s enchantment with Go Hae-gang’s beauty was an unusual phenomenon.
Was it the pitiable story that he wouldn’t live long? Or the backlash from having once chewed over such harsh rumors? Whatever the reason, in the minds of the noble folk who’d “seen their share of handsome people,” a generous verdict had already settled: the beautiful prince from the neighboring country, the Ghost King’s bride who overwhelmed the room — might leave a line in the records as the greatest beauty of the age.
And ugly desires always follow beautiful things — though he was a taken man, irreverent gazes and words followed.
“If only he were my bride for a day. No, I’d gladly be his bride. Whatever it was, I could cherish him all day.”
“Hey, man. Watch your mouth. What if someone hears?”
“Ha. With this crowd, d’you think even a bit of it would reach those ears?” The man who’d spoken irreverently jerked his chin toward Hae-gang far away. As he said, Hae-gang, busy attending to the still-streaming guests, had not a hair’s breadth of leisure to lend an ear to such base talk.
Attendants bustled at his side; Hae-gang stood still with hands clasped behind his back, only nodding now and then. Not a very warm attitude, but a royal personally greeting guests was itself extremely rare, so the faces of those who met him bloomed with smiles — quite a spectacle.
Come to think of it, this prince was a bit unusual. His looks aside, an ordinary royal wouldn’t take on such trouble. However displaced from his homeland, would a prince come out to the gate to greet guests? He didn’t move much, but never frowned, keeping a faint smile throughout — his grace; no wonder guests were pleased.
“Still, be discreet. Didn’t you hear? His Highness’s martial skill is said to be very high. He may be a move above the guard watching his back.”
“Ah, I heard. But is that believable? They say he’s so sickly he’s living day to day, yet his martial arts are so outstanding — does that make sense?”
“I don’t know where or how he’s sick, but the ‘outstanding’ part is true. I didn’t trust it at first either, so I met a Danogwan trainee to confirm. Not someone who just heard rumors, but one who directly watched His Highness spar — he said it was astounding… like it or not, I have to believe it.”
“Huh, quite something.”
“Whatever it is, if you want to keep your life, be discreet.” The man who’d spat the irreverent words finally just snorted lightly. As if to say it wasn’t even something to covet, couldn’t even talk freely. The man who’d been playing along just shook his head.
But irreverence didn’t end with one. One who thinks one thing can think two; this time the branch of thought stretched somewhere rather odd.
“I wonder if he failed to become His Majesty’s spouse because his life is short.”
“Come now, man. I told you to be careful.”
“Why not. One can at least think it. With looks like that, isn’t it more surprising he didn’t catch His Majesty’s eye?”
“His Majesty must not have known.”
“Huh, really? No matter how vicious the rumors, such beauty isn’t easily hidden. How do you cover the sky with your palm? The imperial family couldn’t have been entirely unaware.”
“Man, what are you trying to say?”
“His Majesty is a very meticulous person. His temperament isn’t that easygoing either.”
“So?”
“So, well… not that there was some other scheme. Just saying he might’ve nearly become a nation-toppling beauty.”
“Do you even know what ‘nation-toppling beauty’ means? Is our Bukwi about to fall for one beauty?”
“It’s just a saying, a saying.”
“Haven’t even touched your drink and you’re already drunk — that’s trouble.”
Amid the bold yet inane talk, one person had been silently listening all along. He’d been watching Hae-gang the whole time, and belatedly turned his head to look at the loose-mouthed one and dropped a word.
“They say he’s an extreme yang person. That his Juyang Divine Art realm is very high, hard to fathom.”
That was all, but no one could readily answer. Not the one who kept saying be discreet, nor the bold mouth.
There was bone in the single word. An extreme yang person couldn’t easily become a bride; a very high, hard-to-fathom Juyang Divine Art realm meant “a person even the Emperor cannot easily embrace.” Danmok had mastered the Hyeonsin Art, so the Emperor could no longer become the supreme — but originally, was his Hyeoneum Divine Art realm as outstanding as Danmok’s? No, it wasn’t. Then how could—
Without adding more — or rather, adding more would itself become irreverent — the single word called forth heavy silence. Asking “whose side are you on, what countryman are you” to pick a fight would be useless. Everyone knew he was always accurate, a scribe faithful to objective assessment. They could only reflect on how frivolous they’d been, chattering this and that about an untouchable prince, and grow solemn.
“His Imperial Majesty arrives!”
And just then “the nation’s master” arrived, and everyone’s attention swung that way.
When Hae-gang was greeting people at the gate, Mok-young was in the banquet hall. He wasn’t idle either. The streaming people eventually gathered in the banquet hall, so he was busy greeting people, arranging seats, checking necessities. It might look like Hae-gang and Mok-young had swapped duties, but by their own measure they’d divided the work appropriately.
*”Many will have come to gawk at me, so it’s only proper I go out and greet them.”* Hae-gang had said to Mok-young. His tone suggested he well knew his handsome looks drew eyes wherever he went, but really it held consideration for Mok-young.
Mok-young, the upright warrior, didn’t much like dealing with people. He couldn’t utter smooth words, and he’d never held such a grand banquet to celebrate his birthday or anything else. If anyone, Hae-gang, who’d lived in the palace, was more used to such things than Mok-young. Not that Hae-gang had ever enjoyed mingling with crowds at banquets, but his nature was flexible, so taking on the tiring work for his wife posed no difficulty.
“No need to take on tiring work. Who knows how long the banquet will run; you must watch your body.”
“Are you worrying about my body now?”
“Am I not to?”
“From one good night’s sleep, you’re making quite a fuss… I was wrong. Don’t look at me so fiercely.”
“Did you forget your body was a fireball yesterday?”
“I see, I see. If my body grows weary, I’ll seek my wife at once.”
Not knowing others’ worry, how brightly Hae-gang had smiled. Wondering if he’d been enjoying his worry and nagging since some point — thinking it over, it seemed he’d been like that from the start — Mok-young had just sighed once and closed the topic.
Recalling Minister Hong’s imparted secret — *”Rather than trying to bend His Highness’s stubbornness, you’ll find it easier to pretend to go along appropriately”* — Mok-young thought he’d step out to the hall to check on Hae-gang when he had a moment. Just as his movements were about to grow busy, the hall fell silent as if chilled for an instant, and Mok-young too stopped on his own.
He no longer needed to seek out his wife. Hae-gang was entering the banquet hall with Emperor Ju Geonyang.
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