olgwang City had hardly changed in the months Min-jun had been gone. Same narrow streets and dirt, same rowdy people, same intoxicating scent of liquor slipping out of bars and restaurants. Right, now that he didn’t have to take that damned medication, he could start drinking again. That was one thing to look forward to.
“We should look for accommodations,” Min-jun said. The King had said a rather touching goodbye to his horse as he left it in the city stables (fuller than usual as a result of the upcoming festival) and then joined Min-jun outside, looking strangely dashing in his fall-colored clothing. Not fair, completely unfair.
“You know this city better than I,” the King replied. “Lead the way.”
“Yes, Sir,” he replied. The King had insisted Min-jun simply call him by his birth name, but the familiarity made Min-jun uneasy, so he settled for “sir”. The King grimaced but said nothing. They walked side by side, looking like a pair of traveling friends. Little did they know, their King was walking among them. He fit in remarkably well.
Right. If the rumors were to be believed, the King hadn’t grown up in the Palace. Or, at least, he’d spent the bulk of his childhood elsewhere. No one knew why, exactly, but for those twelve years between four and sixteen years of age, the Crown Prince had never once shown his face. More reason to believe the King had killed his own father.
They spent an hour or two going around to all the inns in the city. What bothered him more so than the constant rejection were the accusations. Innkeepers, customers, random people on the street, they all recognized him, to varying degrees of excitement. An alarming amount of people either embraced him with tears and snot running down their faces, accusing him of having left without saying anything. An equal number gave passive-aggressive remarks as they greeted each other. One boy, about seven years old, even kicked him in the shin. What on Earth was happening? He apologized each time, halfheartedly, having forgotten who they even were. The people in Wolgwang City were truly peculiar.
The King hid a chuckle behind his hand as they walked out of another Inn. The Innkeeper had hit him over the head with a book for his sudden disappearance. As they made their way out, the King’s hand glided through his hair, where the book had made contact with his scalp. Min-jun slapped his hand away and put his gat back on.
“Seems they’re quite cross with you,” the King said, pulling away.
How could the King be so cheerful when they had no place to stay? Min-jun’s feet were already sore and all of his energy had drained about half an hour ago when that boy kicked him in the shin.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“I haven’t a clue who most of them are or why they’d be so upset.” The only people he’d told were his co-workers, and that was out of respect for his old job. The fewer people who knew where he’d gone, the better.
“Perhaps we should take a break,” the King offered. “You must be hungry.”
Min-jun glanced at him, wanting to argue for the sake of arguing, but the logical side of him noted that there was no point in doing so, really. He crossed his arms. “Well, there’s nothing else to do, I suppose.”
“After you,” the King said, gesturing toward the dirt road ahead. Min-jun sighed, veering right. They might as well get some decent food and drink. Madam Sa’s was just around the corner from here, and she always gave an extra bottle of liquor to friends.
A few large pots were set out in front of Madam Sa’s, and several women stirred the bubbling broths inside of them. The building itself was modest in decoration, only bothering with the essentials. Several people sat on the narrow wooden porch surrounding the restaurant.
“Well, well, well,” one of the women at the pots said. “If it isn’t Hae Min-jun ssi.”
“Couldn’t even leave us a note, eh?” her friend said. “Left without saying a word.”
Min-jun was on his last straw with people he didn’t know claiming he did something horrible to them. “I literally do not know any of you.”
The woman leaned over to loudly whisper in her friend’s ear. “He’s denying it.”
“I am not.”
“Oh really? Did you forget all those times we spoke in the market?”
His voice rose a few octaves in desperation. “Apparently!” he said.
A warm hand at his back led him away. The King walked by his side, guiding him toward the front doors of the restaurant.
“Jun-ah!”
Madam Sa, one of the few people he would actually call a friend, stood up from her place near one of the customers inside. She was a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties, her hair black as ivory, her lips painted a vibrant red, and her pale skin unblemished. A good three-quarters of her customers came there for her looks, which was a shame because the woman happened to run a business with the best food in town. She said she didn’t mind, since money was money no matter how she got it, but he could tell it grated on her nerves from time to time.
Her arms wrapped around him, crushing his body to hers until all the breath was sucked out of his lungs. A laugh spilled out from her lips. “How bold of you to come back here, after leaving so suddenly.” She was angry. Definitely angry.
Madam Sa glanced at the King, and released Min-jun. “And who is your friend?”
“This is Hwang Dol,” he said, without missing a beat.
Madam Sa cupped the side of her face to whisper in Min-jun’s ear. “Another boy toy? He’s cute. And those eyes. What a peculiar color.”
“It’s rude to call other people’s eye color peculiar, Sa,” Min-jun chided.
“It’s a compliment.” She placed her arm around his shoulders. “I’ve missed you, dear. How about your boyfriend and you order a bite to eat, hmm?”
“He’s not–”
“That was exactly what we had on our mind,” the King interrupted, genial as ever.
Sa shook her finger at him. “I like how you think, my boy. I think we’ll get along splendidly.”
Min-jun clenched his jaw. Perhaps. Perhaps coming here had been a mistake.
. . .
Coming to Madam Sa’s had been a mistake. The King and Sa got along splendidly, carrying a conversation like they’d been friends since childhood. Min-jun let them do the talking as he nursed his growing headache with food and alcohol. He had expected the King to lightly interrogate Sa about Min-jun, but perhaps with Min-jun there, he preferred to keep the conversation off of him. That could prove troublesome. It wasn’t like Min-jun could keep an eye on the King at all hours of the day.
He leaned back on one of his hands, heaving a long sigh that made the King glance at him. Min-jun ignored those violet eyes and brought the rim of his wine cup back to his lips. He averted his gaze, turning to the windows. Right then, a man in a dusty brown jacket and white pants ran by him, his greasy hair tied up in a topknot and a white headband tied around his head. He was running away from someone. That someone followed a few seconds after the man disappeared from the windows, chasing after him, vanishing and reappearing between the walls and windows. The brief moment that Min-jun managed to catch sight of the man had been enough. Stormy eyes, dark brown hair, permanent dark circles under said stormy eyes, and a gait that spoke of violence when he was in pursuit of someone. He jolted up from his seat, a name on his lips.
“Hyun-woo!”
And, as if on instinct, he followed his ex-partner out onto the streets, forgetting the dangers of leaving the King unattended. Stupid, foolish boy, he’d tell himself later, his inner voice sounding like Mother’s sweet, patient lilt.
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Oooh, so curious! What’s going to happen~??? I love it.