TBML 33

Even though he said that, Yiyeon was just as reluctant as Hyunhak to get off his broad back. Although they were in a spot with a clear view of the village, the distance was far too great for Yiyeon, in his current state, to walk alone.

But it wasn’t simply because he didn’t have the courage to walk on his own, or because it felt so comfortable to ride on his broad back. Was it because this was the first time in his life he had completely relied on another person? He missed the firm shoulder he had rested his forehead against and the warmth that had driven away the early winter chill.

What a strange turn of events. He had been so determined not to give Dusoe or the Seo bastard any hope that he would panic and push them away at the slightest touch, yet here he was, riding on Hyunhak’s back and now even feeling reluctant to let go. Yet there was a reason Yiyeon had blurted out those insincere words.

There was the incident not long ago when he vanished just as the village came into view, and now, as they neared the village, Yiyeon could tell from Hyunhak’s slowing pace that he was hesitant to set foot in the village.

Even though he was walking so slowly because he didn’t want to go, Hyunhak ignored Yiyeon’s plea and continued walking. He carried him on his back until the very end. Gradually, the undergrowth and branches that had been brushing against their feet grew fewer, and soon they entered a place where people had passed through many times, creating a well-trodden path.

Only when the village was close enough that he could almost touch it with his nose did Hyunhak reluctantly set Yiyeon down from his back. He placed Yiyeon on the dirt ground as carefully as possible, and when his slender body, now standing on the ground, swayed, he quickly caught him.

Yiyeon gently pushed away Hyunhak’s hand and looked him in the eye. Perhaps because Yiyeon had been so flustered, or because Hyunhak was such a phantom-like man, this was the first time he had ever stood face-to-face with him. Yiyeon took a good look at the man who had saved his life.

His thick eyebrows were furrowed, giving him a sullen, discontented expression. His long, black hair – which had once looked like the disheveled mane of a ghost – now resembled a fine silk scarf.

Contrasting with his immature tone, he possessed a mature physique that would make any woman blush, and a face so handsome that one wondered how a person could look so good, even when unhappy. Yiyeon fixed his unwavering gaze upon him.

Yiyeon’s eyes were as pitch-black as midnight; whatever was reflected in them appeared bright.

“Since you’ve come this far, and the [unauthorized copy]sun has set, please stop by for a moment before you go, even if it’s a humble place, My Lord.”

Yiyeon asked this even though he knew Hyunhak would refuse. It was a suggestion born of regret, as well as a desire to offer him at least a cup of water after all he had endured. But, as expected, Hyunhak shook his head.

He had promised to visit Hyunhak to repay him, but one could never know what the future held, and given Yiyeon’s circumstances, it was actually no easy task. Perhaps the matchlock he had left at Hyunhak’s house would be the last memento he had of this ungrateful wretch who had received a kindness beyond measure.

He tried hard not to entertain such ominous thoughts, but humans were creatures prone to being easily consumed by darkness. And they were just as quick to retreat into comfort.

Yiyeon went over the words he would say to Hyunhak in his mind again and again. No matter how many times he thought about it, the only thing he could say was “thank you.” Even if he bowed 108 times to Hyunhak, he would still be unable to fully express his feelings. As Yiyeon stood there staring at him, Hyunhak spoke up.

“If you don’t want to go, then just don’t go, is that not enough?”

Hyunhak asked in the same tone one might use when saying they didn’t want to get out from under the blankets because it was cold today.

As he listened to Hyunhak speak so naturally, as if stating the obvious, a thought suddenly occurred to him: perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to turn my back on the world, ignore everything else, and live secluded away in the mountains.

Even though Dusoe had worn himself out talking about how he should run away and hide in some distant mountain, he had never even pretended to listen, let alone imagined such a thing. Yet, upon hearing Hyunhak speak so casually, it felt as though it really wasn’t a big deal. It felt perfectly acceptable.

“I just want to live that way, so I’ll live that way.” Whether he was chased by debt or what others say, why should he care? Feeling that kind of manly ambition – that nothing in this world could stand in his way – Yiyeon forgot the situation and smiled wistfully.

Yiyeon had no such ambition. He was a moth, trembling with the fear that if he followed this path back to the village, it might become his grave, yet still rushing headlong into the storm; he was a fool, so obsessed with human duty and decency that he was willing to endure twenty years of suffering.

He would continue to live that miserable life, worriedly speculating about events in a future that hadn’t even happened [stolen content]yet, then trying to comfort himself by insisting that nothing like that would come to pass, only to fall asleep in the chilly doorway. Yiyeon knew no other way to live, and since that was his world, he lived it.

While admiring and envying Hyunhak’s blunt words, Yiyeon couldn’t help but worry. His father’s creditor, Byeon, was the sort who, if Yiyeon ran away, would send men across the entire peninsula until they finally confirmed Yiyeon’s corpse to settle the debt. He had seen people who borrowed money from Byeon and, in the blink of an eye, went from being commoners to slaves worse off than the lowest of the low.

Yiyeon’s life had been tightly interlocked with the gears of that tiny village, turning for his entire existence, so he had never even considered the possibility of starting anew. He were not “Yiyeon” to escape the Byeon’s pursuit.

The man standing before him, his back straight and unwavering despite having carried a fully grown man on his back all that way, did not merely appear handsome; he exuded a bold and dignified presence.

Hyunhak possessed an air of detachment that made it seem as though nothing in the world could stand in his way. And he was not merely projecting an aura; he was a man who could truly embody it, someone entirely different from Yiyeon himself.

To Yiyeon, Hyunhak was a mystery. That was why he had grown so attached to him that even this brief encounter left him feeling such a sense of longing. If Dusoe had known, he might have been consumed with jealousy.

That was why Yiyeon held Hyunhak’s image in his eyes for a long time. He didn’t know when, where, or how their next meeting would take place. Of course, if possible, he would visit him in person, but wouldn’t that be something that might happen only in the very distant future?

Strangely enough, he simply wanted to remember this man’s current appearance for a long time. He felt that when the moment came when he wanted to strangle himself, if he could just pull out the image of Hyunhak he had imprinted in his eyes, he might be able to carry on living with such detachment. Yiyeon bowed his head one last time.

He didn’t say “thank you” again. Even if he said it a thousand times, it wouldn’t fully convey his feelings; saying it would only make his mouth sore and the listener’s ears ring. Sometimes, a simple exchange of glances was enough to convey his feelings, more so than a dozen words.

In the darkening mountains, they exchanged a silent farewell, and instead, Yiyeon raised his head and smiled brightly.

Hyunhak, who had been quietly watching Yiyeon’s actions, forgot all decorum as his eyes widened. In his eyes, which had grown as round as a snowball rolled through the deep snow of the winter mountains, the brightest expression he had ever seen since first knowing Yiyeon appeared.

Only then did Hyunhak realize. Whenever Zao had asked him, time and again, why he kept helping Read on and sparing this small human, who deserved to be bitten to death, he had never been able to find a satisfying answer that fully quenched his own thirst for understanding. But now, he thought he finally knew the answer.

It was that kind of face he had been longing to see. Not a face filled with tears, anger, and frustration, or a pale, lifeless, gloomy face like that of a man about to die, but a face like sunlight reflecting off ice crystals that had frozen overnight.

Yiyeon’s innocent smile was so dazzling that for a moment, Hyunhak felt as if he had been blinded by that light. Everything went white before his eyes, and he was unable to move. Even as Yiyeon said, “I will cherish this kindness deep in my heart and be sure to come see you again,” and limped past him, Hyunhak stood there staring into space like a blind servant.

When Hyunhak finally came to his senses and turned to follow Yiyeon, he couldn’t run after him or catch up. Before he knew it, the crow had flown in, circling above his head and cawing.

This was as far as it went. This was the boundary between the human world, which Zao had urged him to avoid at all costs, and the realm of the black tiger.

Yiyeon might have thought of him as a bold figure, detached from all matters, but in truth, even to Hyunhak, the human world beyond this line was an unknown realm, and he had no idea what dangers lurked there. He was merely a tiger whose mind was not yet fully matured. One who, despite his massive size, believed the world he had lived in was all there was.

Yiyeon refused to look back, as if he had vowed never to do so. He should have turned around at least once out of gratitude or regret, but he simply kept his eyes fixed ahead and walked on with labored steps.

As he watched his precarious figure from behind, Hyunhak wanted to fold the ground and rush out every time Yiyeon staggered. As he watched the human figure gradually recede into the distance, Hyunhak’s dark pupils suddenly turned a bright amber, glinting even in the darkness. Yiyeon’s image lingered for a long time in those amber eyes.

Yiyeon could also feel the man’s intense gaze resting on his back. How much of a burden must this be for him to find it so difficult to take a single step? His body was so worn out that even his feet felt heavy.

He had wanted to show him a dignified departure, but he felt a little sad knowing that from behind, his shoulders would appear slumped and his arms would flinch in pain with every step, making him look like a vagrant who would collapse at any moment. Nevertheless, Yiyeon did not stop walking; he kept moving forward.

It felt as though there was an invisible line at the spot where Hyunhak had set him down. Beyond that line lay that man’s world, and from the other side onward was Yiyeon’s world, and his hell. Was there any need to give that man a tour of his hell? He was wise to declare that he would return without even taking a single sip of water. A bitter taste rose in his mouth.

Was his smiling face as he bid his farewell at least presentable? Though he must have looked a mess in his ragged clothes, he wanted visit our siteto make a good impression on Hyunhak.

It was a distance he could have easily run when he was healthy, but he walked as slowly as a turtle. Because of the pain in his shoulder, it was difficult for him to lift his left foot, so he dragged it along, stopping and starting several times to cover that short distance.

Finally, as he got close enough to call it a “village,” someone recognized Yiyeon in the dim light and shone a lantern on his face.