Fake Concubine 16

However, ​Moon ​Hae-min ​was ​mistaken. Song Seol ​was ​indeed ​offering ​an ​apology.

“He is a man ​of ​short temper and ​poor manners. I ​have ​spoken ​with ​him, ​so ​there will be ​no ​repeat ​of today’s events.”

“Ah… ​is that so.”

Why did ​he feel ​more awkward ​and embarrassed ​even after ​receiving ​an ​apology? Unable to ​endure the ​stifling atmosphere, Hae-min spoke ​up.

“Please do not let ​it trouble you. After ​all, anyone ​who ​knows the reason why you took ​me in as a ​concubine ​would ​naturally ​fail ​to welcome me.”

In ​an instant, ​Song ​Seol’s expression darkened.

Hae-min ​gasped ​inwardly. He realized he had ​likely made ​a ​slip of the ​tongue. ​He ​hadn’t ​intended ​to blame ​or ​sneer; it ​was simply something that had slipped out ​in his flustered ​state, but…

“It was ​a mistake for me ​to take ​you in as ​a ​concubine in the ​first place.”

“T-that is ​not what ​I ​meant…”

“I understand.”

Hae-min ​had ​no idea ​what ​the other ​man ​understood. ​While his heart ​hammered ​with anxiety, ​Song ​Seol ​appeared ​completely unfazed. That steadfast composure, ironically, made Moon Hae-min feel afraid.

“…My Lord.”

“The night air is cold. Go inside and rest.”

Hae-min wanted to make some excuse, but he couldn’t think of anything to say, so he stopped. What excuse could one offer to a person who wasn’t even blaming them?

Meanwhile, Song Seol turned around. Moon Hae-min stared blankly at his departing figure. For some reason, Song Seol’s back looked despondent.

‘No, that can’t be.’

Hae-min shook his head vigorously. He must have seen it wrong because he was tired. Or perhaps Song Seol was acting strange because he was exhausted.

Yes, that made sense. He must have been acting out of character because the fatigue from his trip to Hanseong had not yet worn off.

The doubt was easily resolved. Nodding to himself, Hae-min returned to his quarters.

The characteristic chaos of the early year gradually subsided.

It was a spring day, the days growing longer and the weather warming pleasantly.

Moon Hae-min sat perched on the wooden veranda, leisurely soaking up the sunlight. He felt as if he were melting under the warm rays. His eyelids grew heavy, and before he knew it, he began to doze off in fits and starts, like a cat.

“Haaam…”

Waking up with a start, Hae-min stretched languidly. He didn’t know why he had been feeling so lethargic lately. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t getting enough sleep at night.

“Is it because it’s spring…?”

While his sleep had increased, his appetite had diminished. Lately, even when delicious side dishes were placed before him, he couldn’t bring himself to pick up his chopsticks. There were even times when he felt bouts of nausea for no apparent reason. Though he made sure to eat three meals a day for the sake of his health, he rarely had an appetite. He figured this, too, was because of the spring.

“I feel like I’m just blaming spring for everything…”

Hae-min shook his head to shake off the remaining drowsiness. When he did, he felt a wave of dizziness and had to lean against a pillar.

White clouds drifted lazily across the blue sky. Gazing up at them, Moon Hae-min suddenly began to imagine his future.

‘Once I return to Hanseong, I’ll have to find a house first, right?’

When he lived at the main estate, Moon Hae-min had lived in a side room. Thanks to that, he was able to eat three meals a day and sleep under a roof, but he had also endured many dirty and petty situations. But that was all over now.

Before coming to Songdo, he had secured a promise from Lord Moon: ‘If you play the part of a concubine well and return, I will leave you be, whether you choose to live [stolen content]away from the main house [unauthorized copy]or get married.’ Thus, in the near future, he would be able to build a life of his own.

With the money he had diligently saved, he could rent a modest house. Or perhaps it would be better to leave Hanseong entirely. He didn’t yet know what he would do for a living, but even pondering that had become a joy these days.

‘Going on a tour would be nice, too.’

Hae-min lowered his gaze. Flower buds of forsythia were forming beneath the wall. It felt like only yesterday he had been shocked by the biting cold of Songdo, yet it was already the beginning of spring. He realized that even the harshest winter eventually passes.

“Young Master Hee-yul.”

Just then, a servant running errands called out to Moon Hae-min. Having a rough idea of why he was being called, Hae-min prepared himself mentally and asked.

“What is it?”

“His Lordship is calling for you.”

As expected. Moon Hae-min rose from the veranda.

“I understand. I’ll be there now.”

“Oh, Young Master. There is a guest today.”

“A guest?”

This was unexpected. Until now, whenever he met Song Seol, it had always been just the two of them.

“Did His Lordship say anything else?”

“No.”

“Alright, thank you for letting me know.”

Though somewhat puzzled, he figured it was nothing serious. Moon Hae-min entered the guest house with a light heart.

The door to the reception room was wide open. He saw two men sitting formally across a small table. The one wearing a deep blue robe was none other than Song Seol, and the man sitting opposite him was a face he had never seen before.

‘How can a man be so flamboyant?’

He wore a peach-pink robe, and his hat strings were so ornate they were practically loud, adorned with dangling beads. Wealthy people usually boasted of their riches subtly, but this man seemed to have a personality that favored overt display.

“Ah, so you are the Young Master of the Geumcheon Moon clan!”

The man beamed with joy the moment he saw him. Startled, Hae-min instinctively looked toward Song Seol. Song Seol wore his usual expressionless face, but as someone who had spent a significant amount of time with him, Hae-min could tell that Song Seol was currently displeased.

“Moon Hee-yul.”

“Yes.”

“This is Seung-hyeok, the grandson of Old Man Yoon.”

Song Seol introduced the man. Moon Hae-min didn’t know who ‘Old Man Yoon’ was, but the name felt strangely familiar.

Old Man Yoon, Old Man Yoon. As he repeated the name internally to recall the memory, the man named Yoon Seung-hyeok spoke.

“I have only seen your handwriting until now, so I am delighted to finally meet you in person.”

At the mention of ‘handwriting,’ Hae-min realized who the man was. The person who had pestered the bookstore owner, saying he wanted to buy his scrolls. The grandson of Old Man Yoon, one of the three wealthiest men in Songdo, was the man standing before him.

“I am also pleased to meet you.”

In truth, he felt awkward rather than pleased, but Hae-min greeted him politely. In his heart, he wanted to turn around and go back to his quarters. However, Song Seol called to him.

“Sit.”

“…”

Moon Hae-min had no choice but to move. As he took off his shoes on [Read on Read BL Novels]the stone [unauthorized copy]step and entered the room to sit [Read on Read BL Novels]on a cushion, a sparkling gaze followed him. It belonged to Yoon Seung-hyeok.

‘Why is he staring so intently…?’

Song Seol often stared at him as well, but Yoon Seung-hyeok’s gaze felt different. It was like a puppy begging to play. Perhaps it felt that way because his eyes were so large and gentle.

“Indeed, the world is wide, yet small. Who would have thought the person I searched for so desperately would be at Grand Prince Byeokran’s residence?”

“You were looking for me? No, more importantly, how did you find me?”

“I knew from looking at the documents. The documents organizing the lost exchange goods.”

Yoon Seung-hyeok’s voice dropped slightly, as if he were sharing a great secret.

“A person’s handwriting is unique. There is a limit to how much one can mimic it, and even if one tries to hide it, their individuality inevitably seeps through.”

“…”

“The moment I read the documents, I knew. I thought, ‘Ah, the person who wrote these documents is the hidden transcriber of the bookstore!’”

It was a discovery so simple it was almost hollow. As the man said, Moon Hae-min had not changed his handwriting when doing the work Song Seol assigned. There had been no need to. Had he known this would happen, he would have changed his script despite the hassle.

‘Though he might have recognized it anyway…’

Facing the handsome man who was smiling with a kind face, Hae-min swallowed his regret.

“So, did you use the documents as a clue to inquire about my identity?”

“There was no need to inquire. Grand Prince Byeokran told me.”

Hae-min’s gaze shifted to Song Seol. His eyes held a hint of resentment, as if asking why he had revealed his identity. To this, Song Seol replied.

“He said he absolutely wished to possess your calligraphy.”

“I am sorry, but I cannot do that.”

At Moon Hae-min’s refusal, Yoon Seung-hyeok’s eyes widened. He looked genuinely shocked. He had been rejected several times already, so it was surprising that he was shocked to be rejected again. In fact, that reaction was what was surprising.

“No, but why?”

“I do not sell my calligraphy.”

“You do transcription work, yet you do not sell your calligraphy? Is that not a contradiction?”

Hae-min tightened his lips. Realizing his rudeness, Yoon Seung-hyeok apologized immediately.

“I misspoke just now. But I am truly curious. Why is it that you do not sell your calligraphy, Young Master?”

“I have personal circumstances.”

When he replied curtly, Yoon Seung-hyeok did not pry further. He seemed to assume there was some serious reason behind it.

“If that is your firm wish, it cannot be helped… but the moment I saw your calligraphy, it was as if my eyes were opened. My grandfather also collects poetry, calligraphy, and painting, so I have seen all the famous calligraphers of the past and present since I was young, but I have never seen calligraphy as beautiful as yours.”

“…”

“And yet, for a master calligrapher like you to hide your talent rather than show it off.”

Yoon Seung-hyeok’s words stirred something deep within Hae-min’s chest. Because of that, emotions like silt, which had been settled at the very bottom of his heart, began to float to the surface.

Was it that he didn’t want to show off his talent? No. But there were clear limits to the position of a concubine’s son. It wasn’t that Moon Hae-min chose not to show off his talent; it was that he couldn’t.