PABO Ch 8

Only after he was left alone did Haryeon Sol finally relax completely. Letting out a long breath, he carefully sat down on the wooden porch.

“Sol-nim!”

A familiar voice burst out at once. It was Chorong’s tearful shout.

“Sol-nim, you don’t know how long… I-I’ve been looking everywhere, huff… huff… what happened?”

Turning his head toward the sound, Haryeon Sol smiled awkwardly. He wanted to pat Chorong, who was panting and on the verge of tears, to calm her down, but he did not know where to place his hand.

Putting on an intentionally bright tone, Haryeon Sol spoke, “I’m fine, so don’t worry. I got lost, and a man named Hyeok helped me.”

“Hyeok? Which Hyeok?”

“Uh… I don’t know his family name.”

“Could it be Yicha Hyeok-nim? The Muhwa, Yicha Hyeok…?”

At Chorong’s trembling voice, Haryeon Sol tilted his head. As he did, he fidgeted with the sleeve of the thin durumagi draped over him. Now that he thought about it, the texture of the clothing he had clutched while descending the stone steps had felt very similar to his own garment.

“Yeah. I think so….”

Chorong proceeded to ask in detail about the man’s height, voice, and appearance. Haryeon Sol explained that he was much taller than himself and that his voice sounded like a male lead from a romance comic. When he added that he could not see the man’s face, Chorong cried out, “Oh dear, oh dear,” and apologized for asking pointless questions.

Then, sounding excited, she spoke briskly.

“That’s really wonderful. Yicha Hyeok-nim helped you! You should get close to him from now on! He’s the Muhwa His Majesty visits the most. He has the highest chance of becoming empress!”

“What?”

At the absurdity of what he was hearing, Haryeon Sol’s eyes widened. Doubting his ears, he asked slowly,

“Why would the Emperor look for a man…?”

“You really don’t know anything.” Chorong said with a sigh mixed in. “His Majesty the Emperor favors men.”

“Indigo^[1]?”

“He’s homosexual.”

“…Homosexual?”

“Gay. He’s gay.”

Haryeon Sol’s face slowly drained of color, filling with shock. Whether the Emperor favored indigo or red had nothing to do with him. It was the same whether he loved men or women. However, becoming entangled with the one who enjoyed the Emperor’s favor was something that must never happen.

He had shut himself up in his room for four days, determined to live his life flat on the ground, yet on his very first outing he ended up getting tangled with the most favored Muhwa…. Haryeon Sol frowned deeply.

‘If things go sour between them later… this won’t come back to bite me, will it?’

Then his expression smoothed out.

‘No. There’s no way. That guy will forget me soon anyway.’

Facing Haryeon Sol, who had turned blank in an instant, Chorong let out a strong huff. Her eyebrows drooped heavily, and she pressed her lips together. For several seconds, Chorong stared intently at Haryeon Sol’s face. She was striving harder than anyone to serve her Muhwa faithfully, to be a good attendant and reliable hands and feet, yet why, in that moment of panic earlier, had she not even been able to remember this man’s face?

A seed of doubt took root, very small.

---

Late in the evening, when the sundial had been swallowed by shadow, Haryeon Sol dressed himself properly in hanbok. He wore a light-colored jeogori and soft trousers, tightly binding his ankles with haengjeon^[2]. The dopo^[3]’s wide sleeves covered the backs of his white hands entirely, while the long vest-like jeonbok^[4] was pale green, like tender leaves laid upon white snow. When even the sejodae belt of pink cords was tied neatly around his waist, Chorong beamed.

“The clothes look so nice, Sol-nim. At this rate, even His Majesty will remember you—.”

Her smiling words trailed off unfinished. Haryeon Sol let out a bitter smile, feeling the unfamiliar texture of the fine clothes wrapping his body. No matter how pretty his attire, would the Emperor remember him? Unless he danced naked with a shaved head, something like that seemed unlikely.

“Chorong-ah, could you give me a handkerchief?”

Just before heading to the Emperor’s sleeping quarters, Haryeon Sol asked. Chorong promptly took out her own handkerchief and placed it in his hand. Haryeon Sol smiled and nodded.

“Thanks. I’ll wash it clean and give it back.”

With that, he stepped out of the room briskly.

Today marked exactly two weeks since he had entered the palace. According to imperial custom, any Muhwa could be granted an audience with the Emperor, and today was Haryeon Sol’s turn. Of all the many Muhwa, His Majesty had specifically ordered the forty-first—whom he had never seen even once—to be summoned.

And so, wearing a fine hanbok entirely unsuited to his fate, Haryeon Sol waddled along. At Chorong’s excited urging throughout the morning, he had walked back and forth along the path to the Emperor’s sleeping quarters so many times he could not count. Since developing flowering sickness, Haryeon Sol’s stamina had been poor. After walking for less than an hour, his legs had swollen and the soles of his feet had grown painfully sore.

Chorong apologized for being overly enthusiastic, but Haryeon Sol’s mood was not too bad. Thanks to the practice, he could now walk sturdily on his own, like someone with sight, and reach the vicinity of the sleeping quarters unaided.

“You’re doing great, Sol-nim…!”

It would have been perfect, if not for Chorong’s whispered cheers as she trailed him from behind the roadside trees.

“If you were going to follow me anyway, why make me train?”

“What can I do? Those are the rules.”

Chorong muttered very quietly. As she said, by rule, every Muhwa had to be able to find their way to the Emperor on their own. And by custom, the Emperor was obliged to receive their greeting. Even that was unnecessary and bothersome to Haryeon Sol. He understood the intent to protect the minimum human rights and dignity of Muhwa, but what he needed was not rights or dignity. What he wanted right now was an interesting detective audiobook, a sweet cup of pumpkin sikhye, and his precious bed where he could lie alone and roll around freely.

Snorting softly, Haryeon Sol took out the handkerchief he had hidden in his long sleeve. Pressing it to his lower face, he gradually slowed his steps. Chorong’s flustered “Oh—!” sounded behind him, but he ignored it.

“Cough!”

Haryeon Sol coughed loudly, as if making sure the guards or gatekeepers standing before the sleeping quarters could hear him.

“Ah, ahem. Cough, cough…!”

Not knowing who might be standing where, he shook his head left and right, coughing in every direction. He did not forget to add choking sounds, hacking harshly. Then he gathered warm saliva from deep in his chest into his mouth.

“Kyaaaagh….”

He pretended to spit it onto the ground. Only then did he hear footsteps approaching from ahead. It seemed he had successfully drawn someone’s attention.

Cough, cough! Haryeon Sol coughed even louder. Halfway through, he actually inhaled wrong and his throat genuinely began to hurt. Kh—huck! Kehk, kehk! As he shook and staggered dramatically, someone strode right up to him. It was the head of the Emperor’s security detail. The more violent Haryeon Sol’s coughing became, the more the man’s expression hardened like stone, until he was openly frowning.

Unable to watch any longer, the man addressed the Muhwa first.

“Are you ill?”

At the welcome intrusion, Haryeon Sol scrunched his face deeply. After coughing so hard, his forehead was flushed bright red.

“Ah… I’ve got a bit of a cold. But, kh—! Cough! Kehk! I’m fine, it’s just a slight fever.”

Letting out phlegmy noises repeatedly, Haryeon Sol wiped the saliva that had escaped his mouth onto the handkerchief. When he brazenly flicked the handkerchief in the air, the security chief recoiled in shock, stepping back.

“Please stop. I need to take your temperature.”

At those words, Haryeon Sol swallowed dryly. He could fake coughing all he liked, but there was no way to heat up a perfectly fine head on command.

Waving his hand dismissively toward the air, Haryeon Sol said shamelessly, “Thank you for your concern, khm! But I’m fine! I’m going in to see His Majesty!”

The security chief let out a snort. It was a snort tinged with faint contempt.

“Who said I was worried about you? If you’ve caught a cold, you could pass it on to His Majesty. That’s the issue.”

“Ah… but, mister.”

“…”

“I came to be held by His Majesty, you know? They said His Majesty told me to come. I need to get my illness treated this time, and I’ve been a bit lonely too…. Kehk! Uh-heok! Cough, cough! So, uh… could you maybe—kh—just let me in? Cough!”

As he spoke, Haryeon Sol stubbornly thrust his foot forward. The security chief startled and blocked him. When Haryeon Sol’s body thumped against the man’s solid arm, he deliberately let out a loud sigh. Then he began imitating the belligerent drunks he had seen countless times during late-night part-time jobs.

“Ah, what’s with this? Just let me in!”

He shouted obstinately.

“Absolutely not. Please go back.”

The security chief immediately grabbed his shoulder, spun him a full 180 degrees, and shoved him toward the way he had come.

“Aah….”

Haryeon Sol tried once or twice more to turn back and feign heading for the sleeping quarters.

“C’mon, handsome mister! Just! Let me in! Please? Close your eyes! Just once!”

The security chief seemed utterly fed up, to the point of begging him to please stop making a scene and just go back. He even asked five times whether Haryeon Sol might be drunk. In the end, Haryeon Sol pretended to leave reluctantly, covering his mouth with the handkerchief as he trudged away.

With his head bowed in feigned dejection, he smiled.

TL’s Note:
I forgot to explain about jeogori and durumagi from the ch 4. In case you have read that chapter and don’t want to re-read it for the explanation. I will reexplain it here.

This is jeogori. The green, blue and pink tops in the photo below. It’s used by women and men when they are wearing Hanbok. Women’s jeogori is shorter than men’s jeogori.

This is a Durumagi— a traditional Korean overcoat, a type of hanbok (Korean traditional dress) worn as the outermost layer for both warmth and ceremonial purposes, meaning “closed all around,” distinguishing it from other robes by its lack of slits and closure with ribbons.

This is Dopo. It’s also a kind of overcoat. It’s kinda similar to durumagi. But dopo is a more formal, primarily worn by male Confucian scholars (seonbi) and noblemen as daily wear or for specific ceremonies, like ancestral rites, while the durumagi was a simpler, more practical, and eventually universal overcoat. Another difference is that Dopo has wider sleeves and has an open back seam with an extra panel (jeonsam) attached to cover it.

This is jeonbok. I’m not entirely sure how to explain it, but as you can see, it’s a garment that looks somewhat transparent, like a vest. If you watch Korean historical dramas often, you’ve probably seen men wearing it many times. It also comes in various colors.

This is haengjeon. It is wrapped around the calf down to the ankle to tidy up hanbok trousers and keep the opening from flaring out.

Here is sejodae. It’s a traditional, narrow, braided silk waist sash or cord that is part of the traditional Korean attire, or hanbok.

That’s it. I tried to keep the explanation as short as possible so I wouldn’t bore you with all the references. LOL. But I can’t help it; I think there will be many TL’s notes coming up, since the novel’s setting is deeply rooted in traditional Korean palace culture, even though it takes place in modern times.