The bathroom was thick with steam, filled entirely with the sound of water splashing and rippling every which way. Anyone listening from outside the door would have believed a concubine was attending to the Emperor’s bath. But the reality was quite different.
There was no one inside the wooden tub. Wei Wuyuan and Sa Ha-hyeon had pulled chairs up outside the bath and were seated across from each other. Both the Emperor and the concubine tending his bath were perfectly dry. The two men were simply sitting on either side of the tub with their sleeves rolled up, arms submerged in the water, idly splashing.
There was nothing left to hide, and so there was no longer any need to put on a performance. Wei Wuyuan always bathed before coming to Byeoksong Palace anyway, and Sa Ha-hyeon always did the same before the Emperor arrived. They were only passing the time in the bathroom because words had been said in front of the servants that needed to be upheld.
Wei Wuyuan scooped up a palmful of water and lifted it high, then opened his hand and let it scatter through the air. The stream of water falling from that height struck the surface below with a loud splash. For just a moment, Ha-hyeon thought he glimpsed a pure, boyish side of the Emperor. But that impression didn’t last long.
Wei Wuyuan lifted a red petal floating on the rippling water onto the tip of his finger.
“It looks just like Yeong-ui.”
Since when did he become a poet? All of a sudden like this?
Ha-hyeon was left speechless by Wei Wuyuan’s out-of-nowhere remark.
“It resembles those two red marks on your chest.”
“……Marks? Oh!”
What on earth is this man saying now. Unable to make sense of it at first, Sa Ha-hyeon had been tilting his head — and then he squeezed his eyes shut.
This half-baked Emperor brat!
“There is truly nothing you won’t say. Ha ha ha.”
“I can say whatever I please.”
Sa Ha-hyeon kept a smile on his face and struck the surface of the water with his fist. Droplets flew up into the air. He had half-aimed it at the Emperor — but somehow, every single one of them came splashing back onto Ha-hyeon’s own face. It wasn’t Wei Wuyuan’s fault that all the water flew his way, and yet Ha-hyeon felt his irritation sharpen to a fine point.
Tap, tap — the fingers Ha-hyeon was tapping lightly against the water’s surface touched a pale pink petal. It was a flower said to bloom only in winter. Wol had once floated some in the morning washbasin she brought. The outer petals were a deep, blood-rich crimson — layered upon each other — but the inside held a soft, peachy blush. Ha-hyeon carefully lifted the petal onto his finger with the inner face turned upward.
“Then — this concubine presents Your Majesty with this petal.”
Wei Wuyuan looked down at Ha-hyeon’s outstretched hand without moving. Instead of reaching for it, he slowly leaned his upper body forward.
“Bold of you. Daring to tease the Emperor.”
Ha-hyeon deliberately covered his mouth with his sleeve and laughed as though embarrassed.
“Tease? Absolutely not.”
This is for teasing someone older than you.
Sa Ha-hyeon was the one who had ended up getting hit out of nowhere. He had only been returning a small bit of payback. He had been quietly reveling in satisfaction — but the reaction coming back at him was decidedly lukewarm.
Wei Wuyuan stared at the petal in Ha-hyeon’s hand for a long while with an unreadable expression. Given that he had asked whether Ha-hyeon was teasing him, it was clear he understood the meaning — yet he neither smiled nor got angry.
Feeling inexplicably unsettled, Ha-hyeon moved to drop the petal into the tub, intending to destroy the evidence. But the Emperor’s hand was faster. He plucked the petal from Ha-hyeon’s fingers, held it up to eye level, and stared at it for a long moment. Apparently finding it displeasing, he then flicked it to the floor.
“You would compare me to a petal that hasn’t even finished blooming.”
“……!”
Wait — is he actually offended?
Just as Ha-hyeon was about to scramble for an explanation — splash — a stream of lukewarm water hit him square in the chest. Wei Wuyuan had deliberately sent water flying at him. The front of his thin garment plastered itself against his skin.
It was blatant retaliation — but Ha-hyeon had no choice but to hold his tongue and wring out his wet clothing. He could hardly splash water at the Emperor in return.
Just then, Wei Wuyuan asked abruptly.
“So — I hear the martial arts lessons ended today. What made you change your mind?”
“I have already learned plenty of self-defense. As I continued, I came to realize that it doesn’t look proper for a woman to be physically entangled with a man in sparring — not in the eyes of others.”
“What makes it improper?”
Wei Wuyuan tilted his head as though genuinely unable to understand. Ha-hyeon replied as if the answer were obvious.
“Is there not a saying — boys and girls should not sit together after the age of seven? Even from the age of seven, men and women are not to share the same space — so isn’t it ridiculous for a full-grown man and woman to be grappling and rolling around together?”
“That’s the first time I’ve heard such a thing.”
“Are you serious?”
Even in Seoran — which the Emperor had dismissed as licentious — the separation between men and women was strictly observed. An unmarried man and woman being alone together, or those already wed engaging in private meetings with someone of the opposite sex outside of marriage, was more than enough to invite public censure.
That was precisely why, when the Emperor of Daehyeon had demanded the queen and princess of Seoran, the queen had taken her own life.
And yet the Emperor who had looked down on Seoran for that very reason didn’t even know the saying about men and women not sharing space after seven. All while being rigid about other customs to an almost suffocating degree.
“First I’ve heard of it. Yeong-ui — if I had been bound by such antiquated thinking, I would never have permitted the martial arts lessons in the first place.”
Hearing it put that way, Ha-hyeon had to admit he had a point.
“That’s… also true.”
“I think I understand now why Seoran fell.”
“…….”
Why did Seoran fall — it fell because you came and destroyed it.
Ha-hyeon swallowed the words he couldn’t dare say aloud. What followed from Wei Wuyuan was even more remarkable.
“The world is half women, and half men. This is true of Daehyeon and of your Seoran alike. That is simply how this world is made. If you subtract half of it — the world becomes half of what it was.”
Ha-hyeon inwardly marveled. He had thought this man nothing more than a young and arrogant upstart — but an Emperor is still an Emperor. For something said so offhandedly, the words carried surprisingly profound weight.
If you subtract half — the world becomes half of what it was.
Turning that over in his mind, something finally clicked into place. It explained why he hadn’t killed Baek Seojin, a commander of a defeated enemy nation — and why he had placed him, someone who could potentially drive a blade into his own back, in the position of Imperial Guard Commander.
It didn’t matter where someone came from, or what their past held. As long as they had the ability to serve within his sphere — he would willingly take them in and make use of them. That was a truly Emperor-like magnanimity.
But Ha-hyeon’s admiration didn’t last long. His thoughts immediately veered somewhere entirely different. Then what, exactly, were all the concubines filling the imperial palace?
Oh. Surely not. Was he planning to take possession of the other half of the world as well? Of course, among them there were also — contaminants. Consort Hwa, for instance.
“So if you want to continue, you may.”
“……No.”
“Why not?”
This time, too, Ha-hyeon couldn’t tell the truth. He paused a moment to choose an excuse and then spoke.
“I will be honest with you. Truthfully — I’ve simply lost interest in martial arts. I tend to get bored of things easily no matter what I do, and I’ve lost interest in this too. It’s just effort and sweat.”
“You get bored of things easily?”
“Yes.”
“Do you get bored of people easily too?”
For a lie to be convincing, it had to be at least consistent. Sa Ha-hyeon nodded.
“Yes. That is so.”
“Of all the things Yeong-ui has ever said to me — that is the one I like least. Let’s end the bath play for now.”
A short while later, the two of them lay side by side on the bed. The weather, which had felt warm enough that spring seemed just around the corner, had turned cold from the afternoon onward — and now the wind was howling outside.
The aging Byeoksong Palace seemed to struggle against the fierce winter wind, rattling and groaning. Wei Wuyuan had his eyes closed calmly — until his brow suddenly furrowed sharply.
“Even after I gave such clear instructions, they haven’t seen to this properly.”
“It’s just because the wind is strong.”
“No matter how strong the wind — it makes no sense for there to be noise disturbing the Emperor’s rest.”
And here we go again. He’ll summon whoever is responsible and threaten to have their head cut off. Ha-hyeon reached out and pulled Wei Wuyuan into his arms. Then, as if soothing a fussing child to sleep, he patted him gently on the back.
“Even the mightiest tree bends in the wind. So please, set aside your anger.”
“Just wait a little longer. I’ll have you moved to new quarters soon. The construction is progressing slowly — the cold weather, I suppose. I’ll have it finished before spring comes, so bear with the discomfort just a little longer.”
“You’re moving me to new quarters? No, please. I like it here.”
“What could possibly be good about such a run-down, cramped palace.”
“Not at all. It suits me perfectly.”
Wei Wuyuan pressed a finger into Ha-hyeon’s broad shoulder.
“It’s cramped for a body like yours.”
“Perhaps I should lose a little weight. You keep poking fun at my size.”
I saw it coming from when he started taking jabs with the clothing. Petty Emperor.
“Did I not say it earlier — subtract, and the world becomes that much smaller.”
“That and this are entirely different things.”
“Are they.”
The back-and-forth showed no sign of ending. Then, abruptly, Wei Wuyuan buried his face in Ha-hyeon’s chest. He drew a deep breath, as though breathing in Ha-hyeon’s scent. And then, like a cat, he slowly rubbed his cheek against it.
It was different from his usual brazen manner. He seemed somehow worn out — or perhaps like he was indulging in something he rarely allowed himself.
“It seems I won’t be able to come to Byeoksong Palace for a while.”
“Is that so.”
“There’s much I need to deal with. Things will be hectic for some time.”
“Yes. I understand.”
Wei Wuyuan lifted his head and met Ha-hyeon’s eyes.
“Don’t stay up all night waiting when I don’t come. Don’t lie awake unable to sleep because the bed feels empty.”
At that, Ha-hyeon let out a short laugh.
“As you command. I’ll sleep so soundly I’ll be snoring — so please don’t worry.”
“Heartless thing.”
His words said one thing, but a faint smile rested at the corner of his mouth.
“So I hope that Your Majesty, too, will sleep soundly through the nights.”
It was not an empty thing to say.
Come morning, Wei Wuyuan would not be beside him. And as he had said — it would be some time before they saw each other again.
In truth, Sa Ha-hyeon had something he wanted to ask the Emperor. Why he had made Baek Seojin carry such a dangerous blade in his mouth. If the goal was to keep him from speaking, there were surely other ways — he wanted to demand an answer.
But he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He was afraid that if he overstepped, the consequences might somehow fall on Baek Seojin instead. In any case, Baek Seojin would probably never have to put that dangerous thing in his mouth again. There would be no more official occasions for him and Sa Ha-hyeon to meet.
Sa Ha-hyeon hoped he would be the last eccentric concubine who ever wanted to study martial arts. For Baek Seojin’s sake.
