CH 5

Min Joohyuk:

A white bandage was wrapped halfway up Sun Yihan’s left arm. Red droplets of blood dotted the cloth. The bandages were tied tightly without a single gap; no skin peeked through. Despite that, Sun Yihan’s pale skin looked even whiter. It seems like he, with his clumsy skills, had thoughtlessly made the bandage incredibly constricting.

‘I think I’ll need to take a look at the injury, though.’

I had no idea if he disinfected it properly. The cloth appeared to hide a pretty deep wound, judging from the blood welling up and soaking the bandage.

When I thought how he couldn’t even properly stem a nosebleed earlier, it seemed too much to hope that he had treated this wound properly.

‘Still, it’s probably best not to talk about this right now.’

I pressed down on my desire to immediately release the tight wrap; this wasn’t something I can willfully dig into. It hadn’t even been a day since we met, so it felt inappropriate for me to take the initiative to check the wound and unwind the bandage.

But, asking for permission wouldn’t be a good idea either. Considering Sun Yihan’s stubbornness, he’d obviously pass his wound off as nothing even if I were to ask about it now.

Rather, it seemed obvious that he’d try to hide such injuries more meticulously in the future. That would be more dangerous.

‘At the very least, I want to rewrap his bandage.’

His prominent and slender wrist, cobwebbed by blue blood vessels, seemed so weak and snap-able. Even though I knew that was not possible, I was anxious; he looked so fragile he’d crumble away. My heart was at a loss.

I managed to steel my expression and look natural before unrolling the hem of his rolled-up sleeve as if nothing had happened. Sun Yihan, right in front of me, still looked drowsy. It didn’t seem like he noticed I had found the bandage wrapped around his arm.

Seeing his half-closed eyes, I didn’t expect him to be lucid in the first place. “Hey, Sun Yihan. I don’t think I should fold this up.”

Sun Yihan turned towards me; our gazes locked. I saw myself captured in the middle of his slowly blinking, clear blue eyes. The edges of his sockets were still a little red.

“There’s more blood than I thought. I’ll go ahead and use ‘clean’ magic now.”

Sun Yihan nodded quietly, expression still blank.

I placed one hand on his blood-soaked sleeve and opened my mouth. “If you’re not feeling well, tell me immediately.”

I recited the spell quietly. As I watched the stains slowly fade away, I asked the young man, “What do you think? Feeling alright?”

“……”

There was no answer.

I was sure this amount of magic would be alright, but was I wrong? I hurriedly raised my head, worried that something went awry. “Hey, Sun Yihan?”

He was still staring at me; our eyes meeting in the air. Sun Yihan slowly blinked his hazy eyes, as if his sight was out of focus. Soon, his head tilted slowly to one side.

I reached out in a hurry, worried that he’d faint. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. Sun Yihan slowly leaned his face against the palm of my hand when I reached out beside his head.

The cheek that touched my palm was so soft; somehow it was also unsuitably malleable. And hot. My hands were not the type to run cold, but his cheek felt flaming hot.

‘Wait a minute. It’s hot?’

I raised my other hand and placed it on his forehead. Unlike the heat exuding from his cheeks, I felt a weak warmth; he was most likely running a slight fever. When I placed my hands against his nape and shoulders, I also felt a slight heat wafting from beneath his thin clothes.

It wasn’t too severe nor did the fever seem like a side-effect from my magic use. Still, I was a little worried… He seemed quite unwell.

“Sun Yihan.”

“……”

“Hey, look at me. Are you in pain?”

“No.” Sun Yihan replied right away–different from his usual answers to my questions. Then, he turned towards me, lifting his face slightly off my palm. He blinked slowly before adding in a quiet voice, “…It’s because I’m sleepy.”

Truly, he did seem sleepy. He seemed that way a long time ago. Still, I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t surrender himself to his drowsiness and rest. Sighing inwardly, I carefully leaned his head against the walls of the carriage. “I’ve said this since earlier; you should get some sleep.”

Sun Yihan’s white face was a little flushed, perhaps because of his light fever. For some reason, his figure looked a little precarious.

“Why are you trying to endure?” I said before slowly removing the palm underneath Sun Yihan’s cheek. The shared heat slowly faded away, which, somehow, left an emptiness–a void.

At that moment, he drooped against the wall. His eyelids looked incredibly heavy.

He slowly opened his mouth and murmured, “…In front of you…to sleep alone…”

“Huh?”

“…I’m sorry.” His voice sounded submerged–the quiet that came from being underwater–and slowly diminished in volume. Still, I could understand what he said and felt a little dumbfounded.

‘So, he feels too sorry to sleep in front of me, alone, so he didn’t sleep until now?’

‘What a foolish person,’ I thought. I was a little worried as well–how was he going to survive in this harsh world? Still, it was nice to know that he wanted to be considerate. I wondered if he would hate us if he had been forced to join us on our journey, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

On that end, my worried heart began to relax a little. Of course, another concern took its place.

“Just sleep.” I took off my coat and covered Sun Yihan’s knees. Judging from his slight fever, he may have possibly caught a cold. Sun Yihan’s vacant gaze turned towards my coat.

“Don’t concern yourself with me.” I wanted to tell him that there was no need to be sorry, but I closed my eyes and cautiously swept my palm over his eyes. His eyelashes ticked my palms; his breathing became tranquil.

‘He’s fallen asleep.’

When I slowly removed my hand, I could see Sun Yihan’s sleeping face–quiet and eyes closed.

So, he’s finally sleeping. I was a little surprised; if he fell asleep so quickly at this moment, how had he been able to endure his drowsiness until now?

‘More than anything else, I hope he learns to pay attention to his own physical condition .’

I carefully stroked Sun Yihan’s hair; the young man was placid and motionless. The neat, well-groomed hair was soft to the touch.

‘I should teach him how to dress a wound later on. Also, how to stem a bleeding wound or a nosebleed.. and how to disinfect…’

There was a lot of work to be done.

◇~◇~◇~◇~◇

The carriage interior was quiet. Even though the carriage rattled slightly, Sun Yihan slept through it all, as if he had fainted. There was a deep shadow under his closed eyelids, and whenever the carriage shook, his limp arm shook helplessly.

‘That wound from before.’

Considering its location, it couldn’t have been an accidental wound from a fall. It didn’t seem like an injury that may have resulted from a suicide attempt either.

Deep and Long. The cut was made to let blood flow for as long and efficiently as humanly possible.

Sun Yihan was someone that lived in the temple, so anything could have been possible. I had heard that those in the temple often devoted their hair or their blood as sacrifices for divine power.

‘Although, I heard that it’s quite dangerous since the price to pay is so large.’

I had heard a story about the temple when I was a student at the academy. It was a mere passing statement, but one thing stuck out. A particularly burdensome ability… What was it…

‘Something like…Being able to see into the future. I think.’

I couldn’t remember well since there were other things going on–it really was just a passing statement.

‘In any case, I’ll have to keep a close eye on him.’

Whatever that ability may be, I didn’t think Sun Yihan would inform me before he attempted the sacrifice. Therefore, I would observe, and, if it’s particularly dangerous, I’d stop him immediately.

Besides, the idea that he was hurting himself to gain access to divine powers was only a hypothesis. (Though, I was close to certain.) Still, I had to keep an open mind to all other possibilities and observe the situation.

Creak–

While I was deep in thought, the carriage slowly stopped. We finally arrived at our destination.

I reached out and stroked Sun Yihan’s head, slightly moist from cold sweat–it seemed as if his fever had gone down during his slumber. I tapped him lightly on the shoulder, feeling the thin body under thin clothes, to wake him up. “Sun Yihan.”

After hearing my voice, the young man slightly flinched. His tranquil, closed eyes opened slowly; once again, I could see my reflection captured within those clear, water-like irises.

◇~◇~◇~◇~◇

Sun Yihan:

“Sun Yihan.”

I heard a voice calling my name in my sleep.

With much difficulty, I managed to open my heavy eyelids. Min Joohyuk, looking at me, came into view.

“Wake up! We’ve arrived at Reddeo.” Min Joohyuk’s bright voice penetrated through my dazed mind.

“…Mm.” I was still half asleep. Perhaps due to the lingering drowsiness, my mind felt hazy. Holding Min Joohyuk’s coat–the one that covered my knees–in my arms, I stood up. The other opened the carriage door wide open, letting the wind blow into the small interior.

‘Oh.’ The cold air really sobered me up.

The afternoon sun shone a yellow glow onto the surroundings. Earlier, the dawn welcomed a blue sky, but much time must have passed.

My body felt much better. And…

‘Wow, I slept incredibly well.’

I was such a hopeless person. What a terrible first impression I must have made on him–how could I leave him to have a good night’s sleep for several hours? Fortunately, Min Joohyuk acted nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened.

‘Well, nothing I can do about past events. Let’s do well from now on.’ Inwardly steeling myself, I grasped Min Joohyuk’s outstretched hand and disembarked the carriage.

I could see a gargantuan gate before my eyes. Beyond that was a small building.

As I walked, I handed Min Joohyuk his folded coat; Min Joohyuk unfolded it again and gently perched it over my shoulders.

“You…Why…?” I asked.

“What is it?” Min Joohyuk said casually.

“It’s nothing. Thank you.” I was momentarily flustered, but the clothes were a warm barrier against the chilly weather. For a brief moment, I thought I saw my companion adopt a small smile.

We continued to stroll, and, before I knew it, the gate was right in front of us. Min Joohyuk reached out and slowly opened the large gate. The grass grew low along the ground; flat stones were sparsely embedded in the earth from the gate to the building. To the side, the flowers–both tall and short–were in full bloom. The autumn wind shook the flowers gently.

“Oh–Park Yul Hyung-nim?”

I could hear Min Joohyuk’s voice beside me.

Following his gaze, I saw a person standing right next to a blooming flower. A thin stream of water fell to the ground from the small watering can in his hand. The little drops of water sparkled as if they contained miniature suns within them.

The blowing wind had slightly disheveled his hair; his blond locks glittered in the glow of the low, afternoon sun. He opened his eyes wide and blinked at the sight of Min Joohyuk and me; his irises were green, like spring shoots.

The man leaned over, gently laying the watering can on the floor before straightening his torso again.

The man smiled brightly, the smile reaching his eyes, as he looked at Min Joohyuk. “You’ve arrived quickly.”

The cold wind wafted the faint floral scent over me.

TL: We met the second warrior, Park Yul!

It’s interesting–I think one-syllable names are usually uncommon in webnovels. (They’re uncommon in Korean culture as well, but one-syllable given names are rising in popularity). Usually, Koreans have three “syllables” or characters in their name. A last name (For example, Park in Park Yul or Min in Min Joohyuk), A unique character, and a ‘generational’ character.  A generational character is one that siblings or those in the same generation in one’s clan share. For example, if Min Joohyuk were to have a younger brother, the younger brother’s name might be Min Joohwan. Joo, in this case, would be the generational name. This practice isn’t always followed by all families, and it’s usually something that’s more traditional. That’s why one-syllable names, like Park Yul, are quite interesting and go against the fold.