PABO Ch 10

“It looks like you’ve lost your way. Over there. If you go that way, you’ll reach the main road. No one comes around here, and there’s nothing to see.”

“That’s not true. There’s plenty to see.”

At the sudden reply, Haryeon Sol’s eyes wavered. According to what Chorong had told him, this building was the shabbiest detached wing in Munjeong Palace. If the forty-first Muhwa had not appeared, it would have been used as nothing more than a storage shed. Yet the unfamiliar intruder wandered back and forth around Haryeon Sol as if he were thoroughly enjoying himself, letting out exclamations of admiration one after another.

“…”

Still dazed, Haryeon Sol turned his head repeatedly, following the man’s presence. He was sure he had just heard footsteps moving from his left to his right, but before he realized it, that presence vanished without a trace.

Wondering if he might be talking to a ghost, Haryeon Sol moved his head around again. The black-clad man stared intently at his face. Every time Haryeon Sol stretched his neck, the angle of his face changed, and every angle, every expression, was beautiful. The shadow of his eyelashes brushed his cheekbones, then stretched across the bridge of his nose—an oddly fascinating and lovely sight.

“You.” Once again, the man spoke abruptly, “What’s your name?”

This time, Haryeon Sol did not fall over in surprise. He merely planted both feet firmly into the dirt. He pressed his lips shut and furrowed his brows for a moment before answering, “Haryeon Sol.”

If asked his name, that was all he had to give. As a Muhwa, he had no past. He had to forget his former name, bury his memories as well. He was now Haryeon Sol—Haryeon Sol, the Muhwa on the outskirts, who only needed to hold his place firmly, like a pine tree of unyielding integrity.

“What kind of name is that?”

The man let out a scoffing laugh, raising his low voice by about half a tone. Haryeon Sol frowned deeply.

“And why do you keep talking down to me? How old are you, anyway?”

“How old do I look?”

“How would I know…? I can’t see.”

Rolling his pitch-black eyes, Haryeon Sol answered. Everything before him was shrouded in darkness, and listening to that deep, low voice made him feel as though he were inside a black cave. It even felt like he had stuck his head into the maw of some enormous beast.

“No.”

The unfamiliar voice sharpened Haryeon Sol’s senses.

“Look carefully. I’m this close. If you look closely, you’ll see.”

At those words, Haryeon Sol blinked rapidly. His tightly closed lips parted just slightly, and the tip of his nose twitched as he focused on the sound right before him.

“More…”

Each time he blinked again and again, pale, hazy blotches appeared in his field of vision.

“Look more closely.”

Haryeon Sol narrowed his eyes, knitting his brows. Then he realized what the white blur was. It was the white of someone else’s eye, pressed very close to his own.

“Gasp—!”

Startled out of his wits, Haryeon Sol swung his fist. The wildly thrown punch was immediately caught in the other man’s grip. Holding onto the frozen fist, the man gave a light pull, and Haryeon Sol’s body, perched on the swing, was dragged toward him as if being sucked in.

Feeling his heart pounding, Haryeon Sol squeezed his eyes shut. His head swam, and flashes of red burst before him. When he opened his eyes again, he saw hazy light spreading out, and within it, the man’s silhouette clumped together like a black shadow. Perhaps from straining himself too much, his eyes stung. Tears welled up and spilled over.

With his free hand, Haryeon Sol wiped away the tears that had flowed out reflexively. The man released his fist. Instead, he seized Haryeon Sol’s face. His small, pretty chin was caught in the man’s large hand, and his beautiful face was tilted sharply upward. Along his long, pale neck, tears that had not been fully wiped away trickled down.

“How old are you?” the man asked.

Haryeon Sol met the other man’s eyes—eyes that he could not tell were truly there or merely an illusion. Framed by eyelashes like a dark forest, the black pupils looked faintly like those of a carnivorous beast.

“Twenty-nine… years old.”

A large, rough hand touched Haryeon Sol’s cheek. It seemed to wipe away the tears wetting his face with the lines of its palm, then released his chin.

Then the man asked, “Don’t you get lonely, living alone in such a remote place?”

“No… I’m used to being alone. Having a lot of people around is more tiring, actually.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

As he answered the man’s questions so easily and allowed himself to be led by his actions, Haryeon Sol thought his own behavior was strange. That thought soon shifted direction. The truly strange one was not himself, but the inscrutable intruder standing before him.

“What’s your name?” Haryeon Sol asked.

“…”

A heavy silence fell.

After standing there quietly for a long while, the man suddenly asked loudly in return, “You don’t know who I am?”

“Uh…”

Haryeon Sol let out an ambiguous sound. All he knew about the other was that he was very tall, immensely strong, and possessed of a very low, frightening voice.

Wondering if he might be someone famous whom one would recognize just by hearing his voice, Haryeon Sol spoke up, “I’m sorry, but I don’t really know celebrities. I haven’t watched movies either. Are you… an actor?”

“Ha…”

“Or a singer? A musical actor? A famous voice actor?”

“Are you playing Twenty Questions right now?”

After losing his sight, Haryeon Sol had picked up a bad habit. Since he could no longer read others’ expressions or feel the need to watch his own, he tended to let his face do whatever it pleased. At the stranger’s rebuke, Haryeon Sol pouted.

The man snorted. As if he had changed his mind, he introduced himself more directly.

“I’m related to the Emperor.”

“A relative?”

“Yes. A very distant collateral relative.”

“What’s your name, then?”

“Would you know it if I told you?”

‘Are all imperial family members this rude?’

Haryeon Sol narrowed his eyes. He tried his best to glare at the man, but his eyes stung again. Squeezing them shut and lowering his head, tears pattered down onto his thighs. The stranger patted Haryeon Sol’s shoulders as he cried silently, shedding tears without a sound.

“Nachalsa.”

That was how he introduced himself. Nachalsa^[1] was, in fact, a Buddhist term—the name of a guardian deity who had once been an evil spirit and later reformed.

Haryeon Sol, who had no interest in Buddhism or any religion, merely nodded as if to say, I see. Imperial names, including “Haryeon Sol” itself these days, were all peculiar anyway. Whether someone was named Nachalsa or Neochalsa was none of his concern.

Taking the man at his word as a collateral relative of the emperor, Haryeon Sol let down a layer of his guard.

“Want me to push you?” the man asked.

“Pardon?”

“The swing.”

“Oh… no, it’s fine.”

After that, there were no further words. Uncomfortable with the hazy outline of another person before him, Haryeon Sol cautiously planted his feet on the ground. Once he steadied his posture so the swing would not move, it stopped being enjoyable.

‘My yakgwa…’

Lowering his head, he fumbled about to gather up the wrapping cloth that had fallen to the ground. As he tucked the precious sweets, now dirtied with soil, back into the cloth, it felt as though tears of blood were welling up in his heart. He had never dreamed that he would end up throwing away such delicious food before even finishing half of it.

‘If I rinse a few of them with water, maybe I can still eat them?’

Today’s meal was more important to Haryeon Sol than building rapport with the emperor’s relative. Straightening his stiff back, he hesitantly stood up.

“Cough… ahem…”

He cleared his throat exaggeratedly.

“It’s getting chilly. Then I’ll… be going now. Enjoy looking around.”

Gesturing vaguely in all directions, Haryeon Sol moved quickly. Before Nachalsa could grab him, he slipped through the small door and disappeared into the room in the blink of an eye.

From inside the small building came the voice of an attendant calling out, asking anxiously if he had fallen or rolled over. It sounded as though Haryeon Sol was muttering some sort of reply.

Left alone in the narrow courtyard, Nachalsa gazed silently at the swaying ropes of the swing. No matter how he looked around, there was nothing worth seeing in the detached wing on the outskirts.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?”

Standing in the dirt-floored garden where a single scrawny pine tree had been planted, he let out a hollow laugh. It was truly a shabby place, devoid of passersby. That was why he had long used it as a hideout. Ironically, the one who had his place taken by a sudden intruder was him.

Chuckling in disbelief, Nachalsa rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand. Even so, the excitement of having seen such a lovely person did not fade. As he left the unimpressive courtyard, a flush lingered on both his cheeks the entire way.

TL’s Note:
I try to include all the references and keep reminding myself, “Don’t forget to add this footnote here,” but sometimes my brain decides to forget them the moment I finish translating the chapter.

With so many notes in every chapter, I might miss some footnote formatting and accidentally leave a footnote marker in the body of the text. If that happens, just pretend it’s a footnote. LOL.
And if I miss an explanation and you feel a cultural note is needed, feel free to leave a comment. I’ll explain.