UR Chapter 104

Chapter 104

Beom-ho went quiet for a moment, as if at a loss for words, then ran his tongue over his lips as though thirsty. After a small pause, he leaned in and whispered, as if making a decision.

“Alright.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed with a subtle gulp.

“Come to my room. But exactly in thirty minutes. Knock three times—tok, tok, tok. Think you can manage that? If I come back to this room, I’ll knock three times too.”

It felt almost like a secret game. Like playing spy. Beom-ho idly toyed with I-bom’s ear.

“Why…?”

I-bom tilted his head, eyes wide. The idea of knocking three times was amusing, but he didn’t quite understand why.

“Sometimes, in places with strong spiritual energy like this mountain, strange things can happen. Think of this as a private signal… a sign, just between us.”

He leaned casually against the wall, arms folded. I-bom nodded slowly.

“Not that I think it will happen, but… it would be a problem if you followed someone else, or mistook someone else for me and… kissed them.”

…He wasn’t a child—there was no way he’d follow someone else or mistake them for Beom-ho.

“Then see you later. Thirty minutes from now, alright?”

His low voice came with a hand sliding beneath I-bom’s thin shirt, brushing along his waist. Even that brief touch left behind the lingering heat of his earlier kiss, making I-bom shiver.

“Thirty minutes…”

Back in his room, I-bom began stripping off his wet clothes. Puffer coat, sweater, pants—every piece was chilled through. Even the hems of his pants and cuffs were stiff with a thin crust of ice. The fierce winter mountain wind had frozen the fabric solid.

“My clothes are frozen… guess I’d better thaw them out first.”

He shook out his stiff pants and draped them neatly over the bathtub. The sound wasn’t a soft flap—it was more like pounding a thick block of frozen fish.

“…That should work, right?”

He sighed and turned his head. The puffer coat didn’t seem too wet when he rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

Thud.

When he shook the coat to dry it, something crinkled in the pocket and poked out.

“What’s this…”

Muttering, he reached in and pulled it out. Fine bits crumbled under his fingernail.

“Oh, right.”

He remembered the bunch of fragrant plants he’d picked on the mountain and stuffed into his pocket. Happily, he took them out—only to find the inside of the pocket sticky with sap that had seeped from the stems. It hadn’t been there when he first picked them. Frowning, I-bom set the plants down on the nightstand and shook his hands.

“Ugh, sticky…”

He wiped at his hands, annoyed. The plants had seemed fine earlier, but now his clothes were a mess and his hands tacky, and it soured his mood.

Tok, tok.

Just as he was about to wash up and tidy the room, there came a knock at the door. His ears perked—two knocks, not three. So it wasn’t Eun Beom-ho.

“Yes?” he called, opening the door.

“Did you two enjoy your walk?”

It was the older lady who had helped with dinner earlier. Her casual inquiry about his evening made I-bom nod.

“Ah, yes, thank you. Since you cleaned up for us, we had a good time out.”

“Hmm… I suppose the young masters came in through the window?”

I-bom flinched and gave a small nod. Did tigers have some kind of foresight? She was spot-on.

“Uh… yes.”

“Let me guess—he said it was so he wouldn’t wake anyone, and carried you in here, right?”

She shook her head lightly, as though she already knew without being told.

“Ah, sorry. We should have come in through the door.”

“Oh, I-bom dear, it’s nothing to apologize for. Beom-ho’s been like that since he was a boy.”

“…Since he was a boy?”

I-bom’s polite smile turned into wide-eyed surprise.

“Yes, ever since he was little, he’s been climbing in through that balcony there.”

She frowned slightly and pointed toward the very spot Beom-ho had proudly brought him down from. When I-bom followed her gesture, he noticed the railing was scratched all over with neat claw marks.

“Ah… so he’s always done that.”

“Yes. Oh, he was such a handful. He’s much calmer now, but as a child he was pure wild tiger.”

She shook her head with a helpless smile, as if even now she saw him as a mischievous cub rather than an adult.

“Typical of the cat family—he’d bring home bugs, or drop a mouse on the table while people were eating, and got scolded by the elders often. And once—what was it?—he brought home a puppy, saying he was going to raise it. Caused quite an uproar in the family.”

“…A puppy?”

I-bom tilted his head slightly. That sounded familiar. He remembered Beom-ho once telling him about picking up a puppy and losing it. His face brightened—finally, a childhood story he recognized.

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard that story before.”

“You have? Well, the puppy he brought home was white, and you know the old saying—it’s bad luck to bring a white dog into a tiger’s home. So everyone disliked it. And then, just like that, he lost it. Cried his eyes out, too.”

She shrugged, nodding in reminiscence. Watching her drift into memory, I-bom quietly seized the moment to ask—

“So… what brings you here?”

“Oh! Listen to me ramble.”

With a bright laugh, she suddenly plopped a bundle of towels into his hands. They were warm and smelled sweetly of fabric softener.

“Would you give these to Young Master Beom-ho?”

“…Pardon?”

“He asked me before dinner to bring some to his room, but I got busy tidying the resort and forgot. If I go in now, he’ll just scold me for being late, so… could you help me out?”

“Ah, sure. I can do that.”

I-bom agreed without hesitation. Beom-ho had told him to come in thirty minutes, but now he had the perfect excuse—a delivery. That meant he could arrive a little early, couldn’t he? Smiling brightly, he took the towels in hand.

* * *

“Um… Beom-ho.”

I-bom knocked three times—tok, tok, tok. In the high-ceilinged hallway, hushed in the stillness of night, the sound seemed to echo loudly. His eyes darted back and forth, unease prickling down his spine at the heavy, settled atmosphere.

‘Sometimes, in places with strong spiritual energy like this mountain, strange things happen.’

For no reason, Beom-ho’s earlier words came back to him. He flinched, imagining something ghostly stepping out from the dark at the far end of the corridor. He had always thought of himself as brave and spirited, but right now he couldn’t understand why he felt so scared.

“Beom-ho… are you asleep?”

He asked quickly, trying to mask the fear, but no answer came. The air hung unnervingly still, without even the faintest trace of movement. Maybe he had gone somewhere?

“…Maybe I came too early, and he stepped out for a bit.”

Swallowing hard, I-bom decided it would be fine—he’d knocked three times, after all. Slowly, he turned the handle and slipped inside.

Only a dim lamp lit the room, which was easily twice the size of I-bom’s own. A massive king-size bed dominated the space, and beyond it stretched a living area and an audio room so spacious it could have been a separate house entirely.

‘Wow… this is nice.’

He murmured in awe, glancing around at the elegant, expansive interior—so different from his own small, cozy room.

“Oh…”

From this angle, he hadn’t noticed it before, but light spilled from a floor lamp in the living area toward the back. Standing on tiptoe, he caught a glimpse of a frosted glass panel inside. At that moment, a sweet, clean scent—body wash—drifted to his nose.

‘Guess he’s showering.’

I-bom moved on quiet feet toward it, thinking that if he startled Beom-ho fresh out of the shower, it would be better to mention right away that he was already here.

“Beom-ho…”

He murmured softly, peeking around the corner. Passing the neatly arranged clothes in the dressing room, he reached toward the bathroom door. When he pushed it open just slightly, warm steam billowed out, curling past him, and the blurred outline in the shower stall began to take shape.

“Um…”

He had barely begun to speak when, through the rush of heat, the figure came into clear view.