PABO Ch 11

Right after Chorong confiscated the dirt-stained yakgwa, a doctor came to Haryeon Sol’s detached quarters. Saying that “Nachalsa sent me,” he placed a bottle of eye drops into Haryeon Sol’s hand.

“Put these in your eyes and get a good night’s sleep. Your symptoms should ease considerably.”

With both eyes swollen from crying so much, Haryeon Sol felt puzzled.

“Before, you said there was no treatment for the flowering sickness. That even if I went to the medical center, there was nothing you could do…”

“This time it’s a bit different. In any case, get some proper rest.”

As if someone were chasing him, the doctor hurriedly packed his bag. When Haryeon Sol tried to grab him as he sprang up to leave the annex, the sunlight pouring through the wide-open doorway made his eyes flood with tears once again.

‘Is this another side effect of the flowering sickness?’

Placing his palms over his stinging eyes, he lay back on the bed. He let out a long sigh and waited for the tears to stop, then took out the eye drops as instructed. He lightly squeezed the rubber tube, dropped the medicine into both eyes, and immediately closed them.

Then something remarkable happened. After taking a long nap, the glare had noticeably diminished. Even when he flung the window open and looked outside, his eyes did not sting, and there was no pain when he looked up at the sky. That was not the only improvement. Into the pitch-black darkness of his vision came the color of the sky and the greenery of the earth.

Lifting his head, Haryeon Sol examined the eaves of the annex. He could see four white lumps resting atop them. Even when he narrowed his eyes, the shapes did not become sharp, but he could at least guess that four crow-tits were lined up there.

“Wow…”

Like someone opening his eyes for the first time in his life, Haryeon Sol exclaimed.

“Wow… wow.”

He bustled about, not forgetting to look around the room he had so far only explored by touch. Rolling his eyes this way and that, following faint shapes, he eventually threw himself onto the bed in sheer satisfaction. Plop—burying himself into the gently rocking mattress, his entire field of vision turned white, matching the color of the sheets.

‘What’s with this person called Nachalsa. He’s actually a really good person. Is this the power of authority?’

He smiled to himself for quite a while, then hurriedly picked up the eye-drop bottle that had fallen by the pillow. Holding it carefully in both hands, he shook it about in glee, then quickly tucked it into the inner pocket of his durumagi, afraid he might spill even a single drop.

Even if it was only enough to faintly distinguish colors, it was fine. The return of color gave Haryeon Sol strength. It was as if lights had been switched on in a world that had been flat and monochrome.

The human heart was truly fickle. He had been someone who claimed he would be fine dying of old age, shut away in a small room as a blind man, but once he began to see colors again, he smiled like a child. He forgot all about how frightening and burdensome that uninvited guest named Nachalsa had been. Since he had benefited from him, he found himself wanting to meet him again. He wanted to look properly at his face, to have a real conversation.

‘I hope he comes to visit again!’

Grinning so broadly his cheeks puffed out, Haryeon Sol looked up at the ceiling of his room. Even just gazing at the dark patterns of the rafters like stars made him exceedingly happy.

He had no idea that, as a Muhwa, his fate was slowly veering off the track of the calm, uneventful life he had always wished for.

---

After developing Flowering sickness, Haryeon Sol’s daily life became irksome and troublesome in every small detail. Side effects such as mild fevers, colds, and body aches came as routinely as meals, and there was also the vicious cycle of declining stamina leading to lack of exercise, and lack of exercise further worsening his stamina. Still, by far the most inconvenient problem was his deteriorating eyesight. It was the same at dawn after he had filled the afternoon carefully with a late nap, waking at an hour when he could not even tell the time.

If it were around four or five, he would go back to sleep; around six or seven, he would want to get up and wash his face—but the problem was that he could not even see the clock. In the end, Haryeon Sol chose to sit dozing, nodding in and out of sleep with his back against the bed’s headboard. If sleep came, he would lie down again; if it fled, he would get up.

Then, unexpectedly, he heard footsteps. Blinking his blurry eyes, Haryeon Sol lifted his head. He stared quietly toward where the window was. Since there was no light, only darkness, it was not time for Chorong to come to work, yet the footsteps were drawing closer.

The sound, creeping forward very slowly, stopped in front of Haryeon Sol’s bedroom window. Holding his breath, he tried to listen with his ears to the presence that had halted in the courtyard. He heard a faint rustling, the whisper of thin fabric brushing against itself.

Sensing that someone had come to see him, Haryeon Sol sat up in bed. Rubbing his face with both hands to clear the sleep from his eyes, he went to the window. It was securely locked. Admiring Chorong’s thorough sense of security, Haryeon Sol felt around for the latch and undid it. He pushed the window open—and at the same time, with a dull thunk, the right window struck someone outside.

“Ah.”

Flustered, Haryeon Sol let out a meaningless sound. Grabbing the window that had been about to close again from the recoil, he slowly pushed it open once more, and this time there was no obstruction. When he leaned his head out the window, a very dark, large silhouette came into view within his faint field of vision. Compared to the vague information his eyesight conveyed, the sense of someone’s presence was strikingly clear.

Without much deliberation, Haryeon Sol spoke, “You came again?”

There was a note of welcome in his voice. At an hour when any ordinary visitor would not come, there were few who would seek out Haryeon Sol in this outlying detached residence—called the loophole^[1]—of the vast Munjeong Palace. In his half-asleep mind, the only one who came to mind was that strange man named Nachalsa.

Someone paced back and forth right in front of Haryeon Sol’s nose. It was a figure closer to the idea of a “lump of shadow.” Soon, that mass drew very close. Before it, Haryeon Sol relaxed. Resting both elbows on the window frame, he loosely crossed his arms and let the corners of his mouth lift slightly. The thought that someone—someone at all—had come looking for him put him in a good mood, even if he did not know their face.

When he raised his head toward where he assumed the other’s face would be, the man spoke from very close by.

“Were you… waiting for me?”

At that voice, the remnants of Haryeon Sol’s sleep vanished at once. It was not Nachalsa’s voice. The hesitant voice approaching him lacked that cave-like resonance. It was not chillingly low, either. Instead, the tone was gentle, the enunciation clear.

“…”

Frozen in confusion, Haryeon Sol stiffened. The expression that had filled his small face gradually faded. The person standing close in front of him let out an “ah,” a meaningless sound. For a brief moment, silence hung between the two men.

Only when Haryeon Sol blinked for the eighth time did the other reveal who he was.

“It’s me, Hyeok.”

A laugh mixed in at the end of the name, Hyeok.

“I was wondering how you were doing, hyung, so I came by.”

Both his identity and the reason for his visit left Haryeon Sol flustered. That it was none other than Yicha Hyeok—the one said to enjoy the Emperor’s singular favor—who had come to see him was strange enough. Even more puzzling was the fact that he claimed to be wondering how Haryeon Sol was doing at that vague hour between deep night and early morning.

Whether living under the name Haryeon Sol now, or in the past when he was called Han Sol, he had always been a man easily forgotten. He neither formed special ties with anyone nor lingered in anyone’s memory. Haryeon Sol understood his place well and lived in acceptance of it. And so, Yicha Hyeok’s sudden friendliness—coming to call on him at dawn because he happened to think of him—felt like something out of a dream.

‘He remembered me and didn’t just forget about me…? That can’t be right…’

While Haryeon Sol swallowed dryly, lost in his muddled feelings, Yicha Hyeok seemed to have organized his thoughts and spoke in a calm voice.

“You definitely seem better than before. Your complexion… and your eyes, too.”

At that, Haryeon Sol rolled his eyes. Even faintly, he could make out Yicha Hyeok’s form and was facing him, so it was only natural that he would notice the improvement in his eyesight. The outlying annex was built with unusually high foundation stones under its pillars, so Haryeon Sol, leaning against the window from inside, was positioned higher than Yicha Hyeok standing in the courtyard. If he were completely blind, he would not have been able to locate the other’s face so precisely and look down at him.

Afraid of causing a misunderstanding, Haryeon Sol quickly spoke up, “The doctor… gave me eye drops.”

As he spoke, he fumbled at the top of his pajamas. The precious eye drops given by the doctor who had personally made a house call emerged neatly from the inner pocket. Just as Haryeon Sol took out the small bottle to show him, Yicha Hyeok raised one hand and shook it near Haryeon Sol’s ear. Following the movement of that hand, Haryeon Sol’s head slowly turned.

Watching the wavering hand in confusion, Haryeon Sol said, “After using this, my flowering sickness symptoms got a bit better. Hyeok-ssi… you too— I mean, Hyeok-nim, you also…”

“Drop the honorifics, hyung. I’m twenty-six.”

“…”

As he said that, Yicha Hyeok took the eye drops. Haryeon Sol let go and waited while he examined the bottle. The faint clink of the small vial being shaken tickled his ears. Feeling frustrated that he could not read the other’s expression, Haryeon Sol let out a sharp huff through his nose.

“Hyeok… you should ask the doctor too. Since he even made eye drops for me, you never know.”

“How would you know what’s wrong with me to say that?” Yicha Hyeok asked lightly, half joking.

“Your leg.”

Haryeon Sol answered immediately. At once, everything went quiet. Feeling the silhouette in front of him freeze without the slightest movement, Haryeon Sol continued, a little awkwardly, “…No? It seemed like walking was a bit uncomfortable for you.”

“That’s right.”

Only then did Yicha Hyeok reply.

“But I don’t need medicine or anything like that.”

“Oh. Right, of course…”

An embarrassed smile spread across Haryeon Sol’s face.