⁝ marketplace.

@❀ seo hyunwoo Almost immediately, Hyunjung feels a wave of irritation wash over her, which is quite a rarity, really. She is often more cordial when she is under the guise of Jaewoo's identity, but perhaps the assumption that /she/ of all people is a thief has simply rubbed her nerves wrong. She cannot help the frown on her face as she looks up at the man, scoffing through her nose. "I, for the record, am not a scholar, nor am I on the run," she says. "Between the two of us... aren't you the scholar one?" she continues, as she eyes the books that have scattered around. This is quite one of the worst ways to introduce herself to another, even if introducing herself was not exactly part of the plan.

But she's already gone and done it. She thinks she can feel light stinging on a small area of her palm.

At least she's lucky that her headwear isn't thrown off, or else, this would even be bigger than it's supposed to be, though... this man isn't anyone she knows from her day life, so to speak. So she should be safe, even if her disguise does fall through. She won't have to see him again; it isn't as if she meets a lot of people in her day life anyway.

"It isn't my fault you're not looking where you're walking," she mumbles petulantly. But she watches, bewildered, as the stranger shoves coins into his pocket. Instinctively, she's taking a few steps back, staring at the stranger curiously. "Are you trying to make /me/ your errand boy, ahjussi?" she says, and her disbelief is obvious in the way she speaks, eyebrows furrowed.

She isn't giving much of a chance, however, to say anything else, as the book bag is placed upon her hands, and she's being ushered to walk. Should she be worried? A stranger is trying to bring her home, even if her guise is a man—but she isn't /too/ worried, at least. If need be, she can defend herself. Her brother didn't teach her how to fight for nothing.

"You—!" She cuts herself easily, however, when she hears the his name. Seo Hyunwoo... Where has she heard of that name before? It rings a bell of familiarity, but not enough for her to remember anything. She frowns even more, but decides that she isn't going to escape. At least, not yet. She sighs instead, adjusting the book bag in her arms. "I'm Jaewoo," she answers carefully. "I really am not the best candidate for if you want stories, ahjussi. We have the storytellers for that."

@❀ yoo hyunjung He couldn't help but find the situation amusing, especially as the stranger's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Hyunwoo chuckled, the sound low and warm in the dimly lit street. "Whoa there, seems someone's got a feisty side." He took a moment to examine the figure before him. The moonlight cast long shadows, obscuring most details, but Hyunwoo couldn't help but notice the way this man's voice seemed to drop an octave when he spoke. It piqued his curiosity.

"Not a thief, huh?" He teased, a playful glint in his eyes. "Then perhaps you could explain why you're sprinting through the streets at this ungodly hour, dressed like a..." he trailed off, picking up the books that scattered around, dusting it off too in between, "A scholar on the run?", he continues as he gaze the last book landing the other's feet. He stood up first before extended his hand, giving a glance down once again on this still fiesty figure's feet, sending him a signal that hopefully he understood. Hyunwoo tilted his head, furrowed his eyebrows together when he finally mets the other man's eye properly. He held her gaze for a beat longer, a flicker of something unfamiliar crossing his features. But the darkness and the strangeness of the encounter made him shrug it off.

Hyunwoo lays out the cloth that supposedly secure his book together from flying around. He stack the book once again before tying it up together properly this time, making sure if there is anoter collision with a figure that is smaller than him, it will not once again, flew all over the place. "No need for excuses. Running in the dark streets like this, you're bound to bump into someone sooner or later," he replied, his voice laced with amusement.

"Looks like you're in a hurry", he tilted his head, looking behind this young man for any figure chasing him, in case his impromptu assumption that the man infront of his is truly a thieve. No trace of anyone. He swats himself off before passing the cloth that turns into a bag filled with books towards this other man. He scoops some coins out of his pocket too and shoving it to the other's pocket. "Though," he continued, a hint of a challenge in his voice, "I wouldn't mind hearing your story defending yourself on why you arent a thief and..." Hyunwoo wrap his hand around the other's shoulder, guide them both down the road he supposed to be intially. "Since you bumped into me, you should help me cary all those back to my house. I believe Ive paid you enough. As extra payment for accompanying our walk with your story, I will reward you with some rice wine at home. agree? cool! lets go". It doesnt took Hyunwoo that much strength to push this smaller guy walk together with him. "Hyunwoo by the way, Seo Hyunwoo", he introduce himself, for courtesy.

@❃ na garam The night air seemed to have shifted like the tides as the emotions that drew across the woman opposite him was enough to tell him the tales of her hardship and turmoil. It was true that he only knew what was on the surface from the childhood tales that Myunghee had spun for him some nights. He remembered his late wife’s soft reveries of the life she once knew with the person who is standing in front of him now. It’s uncanny how suddenly, even Suho began to question how much of those memories could stand on their own through the trials of time.

But as the woman snapped at him for referring to her by the only name he had known her by and soon revealed her true name and identity, he could only acknowledge her frustration that sat on her shoulders from years of turning away her grief and loss. Suho, too, knew that feeling all too well.

“Na Garam,” he repeated her name softly, committing it to memory; allowing it to rest on his tongue like a silent whisper or a shared secret between two souls in the stillness of the night.

Suho listened as Garam recounted the tragic events of her life which had led to her this moment, and he could not help but ache with her. The pain and loneliness that lingered within her was a heavy burden that she had carried alone all these years. But, when she expressed her wish that he would not have found her, Suho’s expression softened with concern, but also confusion.

He wondered how many people in this city knew her—truly knew her apart from the shadows and the moonlight away from the fortunes she told and weaved through dreams. How many streets in the capital had held them by the seconds before they walked past each other time and time again, how many flowers had they both looked and adored, how many coins had been passed by his palm, person to person, and landed in hers? Even he, himself, had felt apologetic for only finding her now.

“I understand if my sudden appearance may be intruding in your life, Na Garam,” he said gently. “But please believe me when I say that I only mean well. I could not face Myunghee in the afterlife if I had not been able to find you and give her answers.”

He watched as Garam's expression softened, even if just for a moment, and he wanted nothing more than to ease her burden.

“My family and I would welcome you if you ever need help.” He offered sincerely, “Saebom, my daughter—your niece—she would be overjoyed to have you as an aunt. And my sisters, they would embrace you as one of their own."

He tried to hold her gaze although she avoided his. "Please, let us help you. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

@✿ jang ilwoo Yeoreum was having a great time. She loved handsome men, she loved admiring them and daydreaming about what speaking with them might be like. It was one of her favourite past times and the main culprit behind her frequent crushes. Very rarely she would attempt to strike up a conversation, and even more rarely attempt to pursue them. Ah, but as fate would have it this particular dashing man was steadily strolling closer and closer to where she stood. He was leisurely admiring the joys of the marketplace. He looked so far removed from any worries real people might have. Ah, but that could be Yeoreum's rose-tinted glasses talking.

And then, suddenly, he turned. His deep eyes met hers and Yeoreum... startled. Her body moved by itself, arms drawing closer to her torso, eyes widening, her cheeks darkening. The sudden sway of her upper body made her fumble with her step. Her foot caught on a protruding rock on the ground and she felt herself stumbling. Her lips parted in surprise. She was mortified. Why did she have to trip over a stupid rock right now?!

A split second later a warm hand had grasped her arm. A non-intrusive but firm touch. He was touching her. Yeoreum looked up at the young man, lips still parted slightly. Her heart was beating so quickly she could barely hear anything else. His voice... he even sounded handsome. 'He- he's looking at me!' Not just looking, he was looking at her so gently, so earnestly. Yeoreum couldn't help but sink into those deep eyes. Her cheeks were flushed a bright pink now. "Y- yes!", she stuttered and glanced down at her feet bashfully, only for her gaze to dart back up to meet his once more. "Thank you..."

'Come on. Say something witty, something charming. Say something. Don't let him just leave!'

"I- You're so handsome!"

'NO! Why! Why did you say that!?!'

Yeoreum's hand flew up to hide her embarrassed and shocked expression.

@❀ han bin Panic is evident in the way Hyunjung runs, careful despite her speed, with a ceramic vase clutched within her arms. It is cold, and her nose and cheeks are painted a rather painful shade of crimson. She barely realizes that she isn't dressed appropriately for the season, days having turned into winter as the end of the year approaches. She isn't even dressed in her usual attire during the night, merely clad in what she's worn since morning and what she's brought to work.

But that is of no matter, especially when her mind is filled with panic, an urgency. The vase in her hands has been... cracked, to say the least, with a piece of it broken and now placed inside of it. She isn't certain if this can still be fixed, but she'd be damned if she doesn't even try.

Soon enough, she reaches a familiar ceramic shop. And right as she's about to knock, the door opens, revealing a face that she never thought she'd be so relieved to see. (She almost tears up, just a little, but she will never acknowledge that.)

"Han Bin!" she calls rather breathlessly, and she takes a deep, shaky breath, before she's holding the vase towards him, bowing almost immediately. "Please—Please fix this for me."

@❀ kim hyunji As Hyunji shared her connection to Hyukjae, Ilwoo's emotions swirled within him like a tempest. His brows furrowed slightly, surprised to learn that his brother had shared a significant part of his life with someone outside of the Jang clan, someone he barely knew. Tension had always simmered between them, and Hyukjae had rarely divulged much about his personal affairs, leaving Ilwoo to wonder about the life his brother led beyond their family's confines.

The revelation ignited a spark of curiosity within Ilwoo, a desire to uncover more about Hyukjae's experiences and the people he had encountered. "Perhaps one day I should too patronize your shop," Ilwoo suggested with a playful tone, his lips quirking into a small smile as he saw Hyunji's own smile in response. "But you'll make something good for me, like what you had for my brother." He quipped with a hint of jest. He imagined the memories they shared must have been precious, each one a glimpse into Hyukjae's life outside of the rigid expectations of their clan.

Ilwoo couldn't help but feel a pang of surprise at Hyukjae's mention of the Jang clan during his interactions with Hyunji. Knowing how their family treated Hyukjae, who often felt overshadowed by their other brothers, Ilwoo wondered if Hyukjae had ever mentioned him, the overlooked middle child, to his acquaintances. It was a revelation that left him pondering the complexities of his brother's life and the relationships he had formed beyond their home.

Reflecting on the unlikely turn of events that had brought him and Hyunji together, Ilwoo couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their encounter than met the eye. It was as if fate had orchestrated their meeting, weaving together their lives in ways they could not have anticipated.

As they prepared to part ways, Ilwoo felt a sense of responsibility towards Hyunji's safety. "Although the bandits are gone, I fear they may return," he admitted, his concern evident in his voice. "Would you allow me to you to your destination?" His offer was genuine, a testament to his commitment to ensuring her well-being even beyond the immediate threat they had faced together.

@❀ yoo hyunjung Lost in his craft, Bin has always ended up closing the business rather late. It gets him in trouble with the clan's head servant, but it was already a typical occurrence for Han Bin to become so lost in his trade while his hands were getting dirtied and busy molding. It was a job that required turning off the noise in one's thoughts and focusing solely on the task at hand to properly create the shape he desired.

As he trudged towards the sink to wash his hands, he looked out the window and saw the bright, shining moon. It was a starless night, and he immediately knew what kind of repertoire the head servant would discuss once he got to the manor. He never takes it to heart as the head servant only ever wants to look out for him. Even in his youth, he's been one to be worried about after all.

"Young Master!" One of their manor's servants pushed open the curtains of the workshop in a hurry. "The head servant will have my head on a silver platter if you do not hurry home!" The anguish on the man's face caused Bin to erupt into light laughter. "Hong Dan, you worry too much. I shall be headed home in a moment. I will blow off the torches, and you may come back to lock up once I do." Bin gives the older man an affectionate grin. "I promise. You may go tend to your other duties." The other male released a long sigh before bowing once and heading out of the shop. 

He turned to clean up after himself, ultimately emerging out of his favorite space. Han Bin gave one last glance around the shop before blowing out the light fixtures, carrying his own small flambeau, and pushing the shop's door open, ready to head home for the night.

@❀ park heeryong In this foreign land, everything at the marketplace was fascinating to Duan. From the items that were on display in stalls, to the various traders and shoppers that swarmed the pathways, the young Siamese girl often enjoyed going for daily walks just to blend in with the crowd.

But, today was unlike other days. She heard music and laughter that weaved through the crowd. Like a curious kitten, she followed until she reached a clearing where a small audience had gathered around a makeshift stage. The decorations drew colorful banners that fluttered in the breeze as a troupe of performers dressed in costumes moved in rhythm to the music.

Duan watched with wide-eyed wonder as acrobats soared through the air as musicians played melodies across strings and drums. And at the center of it all, was a storyteller who wove a heroic tale. She could not decipher the words of his story due to the language barrier, but as the crowd erupted into applause and cheers, Duan found herself following along. In Siam, such performances were rare and reserved for royalty and festivities, but here in Joseon, the people seemed to enjoy these impromptu performances.

Then, a dancer caught her eyes. Clad in vibrant silk robes that swirled around like a kaleidoscope of colors, the dancer moved with grace and beauty. Every step and gesture was a mesmerizing spell that captivated the audience.

@❀ moon jinhee For a brief moment, seonhye saw a flash of sadness that lingered in her best friend’s eyes, and despite wanting to comfort jinhee, she knew it was much better if such sorrows weren’t brought up. Yet, at the mention of heejin’s name, Seonhye sees the opposite, a warmth that settled on Jinhee’s visage and she could not help but to release a soft chuckle. She couldn’t help but to wonder when her best friend would ever admit the feelings she held for the other? Or if any of them would. She prayed and hoped. But only time would tell.

“Heejin? I haven’t seen that pretty lady in a while.” ‘but i thought you might have’ The young marchioness wants to add, a little knowing grin on her face. “She is the busiest out of the three of us. But you see her often, huh?” Seonhye continues in a teasing tone as she sipped on her tea.

“but what have you been up to recently, jinhee-ya? I’ve been meaning to find you, but you know, the usual.” Seonhye shrugs a little. “mama has been crazy excited about this wedding”’not me’ those words lingered on the tip of her tongue before she continued with much amusement. “it’s as if she’s marrying duke cha instead of me.”

@❀ seo hyunwoo Sneaking out of the Yoo manor had been easy. It was as easy as breathing as this point of Hyunjung's life, having done this since she was but a mere teenager, and her father had never been any wiser when it came to her little nightly escapades. This was something she would never understand. She was an adult, already four years into the marriageable age, but her father would still forbid her from... well, simply learning more of the world, exploring. As freely as she would want. She understood the urge to protect, but she was grown, was she not?

And so, she explored the world the only way she knew—in a skin that was not hers, with a name that was not born with.

Clad in an attire intended for men, Hyunjung now adorned the face of a man made from lies: Jaewoo. Jaewoo, unlike Hyunjung, was /free/. He was held down by nothing, not a name, not a clan, nor a responsibility to adhere and conform to what society had asked of the world. He was simply Jaewoo, a man who wished to enjoy the world without shackles. It was almost laughable, how he knew more of the world than Hyunjung ever did, when Hyunjung walked this world much longer than he had.

(He was everything Hyunjung yearned to be.)

Now Hyunjung was running through the streets, rushing to a place that she had agreed with a drunken friend to meet. She had left the Yoo manor late tonight, with her father having decided to give her a long lecture about her recent behaviors, words that had entered on one ear and gone out the other. These were the words she had heard time and time again, so much that she was certain she could recite his words one by one with ease. She was twenty-five, an adult, and yet her father still held such a strong grip on the way she lived her life.

She hated it.

Running felt like freedom, felt like leaving the only world she knew, and perhaps it shouldn't feel as liberating as it was. Even just the idea of it made her crave for something she could only dream of.

(How long until her father let her go?)

With how deep she was in her thoughts, focusing only on the sound of her feet against the ground, she hadn't noticed the figure that emerged from one side of the street she was supposed to be in. She had only realized a little too late, when she was a mere few steps within colliding, and she couldn't pause her steps in time—

—the collision was painful when she hit the figure, solid as a rock. The next thing she knew, she was down on the ground, knees and palms aching as her head pounded with lightheadness from the sudden movements. She blinked repeatedly, trying to focus her sight properly when her gaze found its way to the hand extended to her. Her eyes moved upwards then, meeting the stranger's gaze—it was a face that was unfamiliar (she knew, but something tugged in the back of her mind that those eyes were rather familiar).

"You—" She started, voice deepening almost naturally that sounded much like a boy. "Do you not look where you go?" But she paused, realization dawning upon her, and it painted all over her face. With a rosy color painting over her cheeks, she averted her gaze, and took the man's hand almost reluctantly. "Though I suppose it's also my fault, for running," she said, clearing . "And! For the record, I am /not/ a thief, or whatever criminal you think I am."

@✿ jang ilwoo Hyunji's expression softened at Ilwoo's modest response, appreciating his humility despite his evident skill. His acknowledgment of the years of training behind his archery prowess only deepened her respect for him, recognizing the dedication and discipline required to achieve such proficiency.

As Ilwoo confirmed his identity as Jang Ilwoo, Hyunji's interest was piqued, her curiosity growing at the mention of the esteemed Jang clan. Though she had heard of them in passing, she knew little of their members beyond their reputation for martial prowess and honor.

However, it was Ilwoo's mention of Hyukjae that truly captured Hyunji's attention, her eyes widening slightly in surprise at the revelation. The connection between them suddenly took on a deeper significance, shedding new light on their encounter amidst the chaos of the marketplace.

"I see," Hyunji replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of emotion. "Yes, I knew Hyukjae. He was a dear friend of mine—a frequent patron of my shop, in fact." She paused, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she reminisced about the fond memories she shared with Hyukjae. "He often spoke highly of his family, though he rarely mentioned his own involvement in it."

"However, he do share a lot to his friends about my shop. It is surprising for someone like him, from a renowned family, patronizing my shop as he was fond of my linens and clothing that I made for him." She chuckles a bit.

Hyunji's gaze softened as she regarded Ilwoo, a newfound understanding coloring her perception of the man before her. "It seems our paths have crossed in more ways than one," she remarked, a hint of warmth in her tone. "Thank you, Ilwoo, for coming to my aid today. Your bravery and skill saved not only my life but also the livelihoods of many others."

@❀ kim hyunji As Ilwoo approached Hyunji, his heart swelled with a mix of emotions—satisfaction, pride, and a deep-seated sense of duty. Her genuine gratitude and relief were like balm to his soul, affirming that his actions had indeed made a difference in the face of danger. Despite the chaos that had unfolded, there was a calmness that settled over him, a reassurance that he had fulfilled his duty as a protector.

Her words of thanks resonated within him, warming him to the core with their sincerity. "I am truly glad to see you unharmed," Ilwoo replied, his voice steady and his gaze unwavering as he returned her nod of appreciation. Though the rigors of battle were not unfamiliar to him, the thought of leaving someone defenseless against such ruthless bandits stirred a sense of responsibility within him that he could not ignore.

Modesty colored his response to Hyunji's admiration for his skill with the bow. "It is a skill honed through years of training," he humbly acknowledged. Yet, beneath his modesty, there was a swell of pride at her praise, a recognition of the importance of his abilities in protecting those in need. The recognition he would never get from his own family.

The mention of the Jang clan brought a flicker of surprise to Ilwoo's eyes, quickly masked by composed demeanor. "Yes," he confirmed with a respectful nod. "I am Jang Ilwoo, third son of the Jang clan."

Hyukjae's name stirred a complex mix of emotions within Ilwoo—fondness, regret, and a lingering sense of loss. "Hyukjae was... my eldest brother," he replied, his voice tinged with a bittersweet melancholy. Though his brother's absence weighed heavily on his heart, there was also a deep sense of pride in the legacy that Hyukjae had left behind as much as he was told never to recognise him as a true Jang.

As Hyunji introduced herself, Ilwoo couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity about this woman who had crossed his path in such extraordinary circumstances. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Kim," he said with a respectful bow, his demeanor reflecting his sincerity. "And please, there is no need for formalities between us. In this moment, we are allies, bound by a shared experience."

"You were an acquaintance of my brother?"

@❀ yoo hyunjung [right before winter when Hyunwoo just arrived]

As Hyunwoo journeyed back to his homeland after years abroad, the golden hues of autumn painted the landscape in hues of amber and gold. The familiar scent of home hung in the air as he raced towards his grandparents' manor, the rhythmic pounding of hooves on earth echoing the urgency in his heart. Reunited with his beloved cousin, eunjeong, he savoured the warmth of their embrace, a balm to his weary soul. But amidst the laughter and shared memories, a solemn duty called to him.

Excusing himself from their evening tea, Hyunwoo made his way to the serene graveyard where his parents lay at rest. Next to them resting his grandparents peacefully too, he beams a soft smile as the last fond memory he had with the figures who took his hand flashed through his mind. Both of his grandparents raised him as best as they could even tho their hands were frail. The setting sun cast long shadows, a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of time. Kneeling before their gravestones, he made a silent vow to seek justice for their untimely demise, the gravity of his oath hanging heavy in the crisp autumn air.

Turning away from the somber scene, Hyunwoo made another stop that he had been dreading throughout his journey home. The house where he was supposed to see his beloved parents grow old together left abandoned soon after that night. He expected it to look haunted but, seemingly, it was not just him who was eager to preserve the memories that the house had left. He makes mental notes to thank his lovely cousin for continuing his grandparents' efforts in preserving the house. He slowly stepped foot into the once-familiar corridors through the garden, the same way he always did in his adolescent age, the room seemed to whisper tales of bygone days, memories woven into the very fabric of the walls. He ended his steps right before his parents' study, he felt a pang of nostalgia tug at his heartstrings. Inside, he found solace in the weathered pages of his father's journal and his mother's cherished book of poetry, each word a testament to their enduring love.

As the moon rose high in the night sky, casting a soft glow over the landscape, Hyunwoo sat on the balcony, lost in the tender embrace of his parents' words. But as he gathered his resolve to embark on his quest for truth, his thoughts turned to the practicalities of his mission. With a determined glint in his eye, he gathered a bag full of books, each volume a potential clue in unravelling the mystery of his parent's murder. He immediately fleet the house with the bag made of blanket he found at the study room.

Lost in a strategic daydream of how to smuggle his investigative loot past eunjeong watchful eyes, Hyunwoo tripped over his own thoughts. His attention wavered, his mind drifting aimlessly. Unaware of his surroundings, he missed his turn not once, but twice, lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, a collision sent him crashing to the ground. Sprawled on the dusty road, surrounded by scattered books, he found himself staring at a figure surprisingly short but undeniably solid. Shame knocked his stomach making him feel twice worse than he already do. How could such a compact frame have launched him like a ragdoll?

"Ugh," he groaned, rubbing his backside. "Did the ground suddenly turn to granite?" he spoke to himself.

Brushing himself off, Hyunwoo extended a hand, a playful smirk on his lips. "Well, that was quite the entrance," he remarked, unable to suppress a chuckle. "You must have quite the strength to knock me over like that. Are you perhaps a nimble thief fleeing from the guards?" he teased.

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@✿ jang ilwoo Hyunji regarded Ilwoo with a mixture of surprise and relief as he approached, his presence commanding and reassuring in equal measure. Despite the chaos and danger that had unfolded around them, there was an air of calm about him, a sense of strength and determination that instilled a sense of trust.

As Ilwoo's gaze met hers, Hyunji felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. Here was a stranger, a man she had never met before, risking life and limb to come to her aid. It was a gesture she would not soon forget, one that spoke volumes about his character and integrity.

"I am unharmed, thank you," Hyunji replied, her voice steady despite the lingering adrenaline coursing through her veins. She offered Ilwoo a small nod of appreciation, her eyes reflecting the depth of her gratitude.

"Your skill with the bow is impressive," she added, her tone tinged with admiration. "You saved us both from a dire fate. I am in your debt."

Though Hyunji was not one to easily trust others, there was something about Ilwoo's demeanor that put her at ease. He carried himself with a quiet confidence, his actions speaking volumes about his character.

"You said earlier you are from Jang clan, was it?" she asked, seeking confirmation of his name. "I am Kim Hyunji, of the House of Camellia. Your timely intervention has saved not only my life but also my livelihood. I cannot thank you enough." She said as she bowed at him, rarely to see Hyunji respectful towards men as she finds them unlikeable most of the time. "My guess is you might be related to Hyukjae-ssi, perhaps?"

Despite the chaos and danger that had unfolded, there was a sense of camaraderie between them, forged in the heat of battle. In Ilwoo, Hyunji had found an unexpected ally, one she knew she could trust to stand by her side in times of need. And for that, she was truly grateful.

@✿ seol riah Sungha eyed the approaching officers, debating between running or just letting them haul him away. He was a bit tired and didn't eat enough at lunch, so he decided to let them drag him away. The worst they would do was fine him and give him a chiding, after all. Though if he really wanted to make things interesting, maybe he could goad one of the officers into punching him or something. Their egos were always so fragile, and they never regarded people like Sungha as actual human beings.

As the men came closer, they began reaching for Sungha, grabbing him by the upper arms and pulling them behind his back. Sungha began laughing, unable to hold himself back any longer. The sound was loud, manic, full of real mirth. The officers glanced at each other in concern, noting his bleeding hand, still dripping and coating his fingers with red. But Sungha paid them no mind as they talked to each other, asking him questions. He ignored them, keeping his eyes on the pretty tigress.

"My name?" he echoed as he was pulled away, the officers aiming to just get him out of the market and be done. Sungha was laughing so much it was hard to get words out. Oh, how he wanted to turn, to slip the blade hidden in his sleeve at his wrist. He could get a few good jabs into the officers, break free, go back to the lovely flower demanding his name. But Mother Bang wouldn't be pleased.

Sungha fought through the laughter pealing from his lips. "My name is Bang Sungha!" he called, finally making the words out. He shouldn't have let the guards know his real name. Well--Sungha wasn't his /real/ real name, but it was his name these days. Besides, letting the tigress know was much more important. Very worth it, he decided mentally. His laughter died down to him singing a song, something raunchy the men at the taverns enjoyed singing when they got drunk. The officers shoved him down once they reached the outskirts of the market, looks of disgust on their face that only made Sungha sing louder.

After the usual warnings and insults, he was on his way home. But he couldn't stop thinking about her. He glanced down at his palm, the bleeding mostly stopped. His eyes flashed as he reached down to dig his thumb into the wound, a sigh of bliss leaving him at the bite of pain, the warmth of his blood spilling again. What a lovely day he'd had.

@✿ cha seonhye (née chae) The blush on her friend's cheeks caused a small grin to curve up on Jinhee's lips. Of course she was aware of her friend's feelings, but she certainly loved teasing the newly engaged woman. It was simply how their friendship worked. They were often playful, always teasing each other about little things. It was a friendship that Jinhee had with no one else, and she loved how young she felt when she spent time with this particular friend.

"Believe me, I'm fully aware of the act of falling in love," Jinhee teased, pushing back the faint tinge of pain at the remembrance of her lost husband. But before the sadness in her heart could grow, her friend mentioned another name to her that made her stop in her tracks. An affectionate warmth settled into her chest instead at the thought of Kang Heejin. It was a feeling she had trouble describing, but the thought of the woman brought her a happiness she hadn't experienced for a long time.

"Heejin? We do see each other quite often these days... Have you seen her recent, Seonhye-ah?" she asked, curious to know if there was something that Seonhye knew about Heejin that Jinhee hadn't heard.

@❃ bang sungha Riah half expected the man to wince in pain, or at least show some discomfort, but he seemed to relish it instead. "What an interesting man," she quipped to herself. When the countess drew blood, the ladies beside her gasped and looked away, unable to bear the sight of the crimson that now decorated the stranger's palm. Fortunately for Riah, she was far from a typical young lady, and fortunately for him, she was now intrigued. She must know his name, and everything about him. He would become her new fixation—a distraction from her lackluster studies and the plaguing thoughts that haunted her.

"What a little tigress," his comment elicited a genuine laugh from Riah, breaking months of solemnity. Who would have guessed a stranger would compare her to her house's emblem? What a coincidence, she thought to herself. If she was a tigress—poised and ready to strike—the man before her resembled a wild tiger: rough around the edges, yet with undeniable potential, at least in Riah's eyes.

"And you are as bold as you are unique," she responded, perhaps a touch shamelessly, momentarily forgetting the crowd that encircled them, addressing him as if they were the sole occupants of their shared space.

As if things couldn't improve further, the performer then brought the bloodied blade to his lips and proceeded to his own blood. This gesture earned a raised eyebrow from the countess and a prompt clap from her hands, though she noticed she was the lone applauder. What was amiss? Surely, it was rather amusing? Glancing around, she realized even some of the men grimaced at the act. "Lackluster fools," she remarked to herself before returning her attention to the man who now held a silk handkerchief to his bleeding hand.

The blood droplets resembled delicate rose petals as they stained the cloth. Riah believed this to be his 'magic' trick, but when he unfurled it to reveal a bloodied Mugunghwa, the countess' eyes sparkled with delight.

A wide smile tugged at the corners of as she graciously accepted the exquisite flower. It would serve as a memento of their fleeting encounter, and the ensuing conversation would imprint her sense of self. Strangely, her revelation would manifest through a blood-stained performer. She was Seol Riah of House Tiger. Dwelling in her heartbreak did not suit her; she was as cruel as she was beautiful, with a penchant for collecting all things captivating.

"They're always sharp. But thank you for the reminder.... your name?" She asks but before they could exchange even more words, the officers would come to break up the crowd and make way for the one who caused the commotion. Riah's guard would come closer but she would refuse to leave. Not yet. Not until she learns his name.

@✿ seol riah Sungha watched the girl as she took the blade and--ah. The bite of the blade was heavenly. Sungha had to bite his lower lip, eyes alight with delight. She didn't even hesitate, didn't flinch at the blood. And the pressure of the blade, the decisive motion...she was used to weapons. Oh how /exquisite/. Sungha's grin came back. "What a little tigress," he murmured with appreciation. "You know how to use your claws. I do adore such a quality."

Now he would have to make things extra special for her, for doing this for him. He would be thinking about that knife slipping across his palm for /weeks/. He hoped it would scar. Sungha took the blade from her with his non-bleeding hand, looking her in the eye as he slid his tongue along the metal, the blood clean. Would that scare her? Would she shy away from that too? Or would she just keep looking at him like that, waiting? Sungha hadn't had this much fun in a long, long time.

Part of him craved to see what fear would look like in her eyes, but he needed to pull himself back down to earth. He was performing, and there was a crowd, and she likely had a chaperone nearby. Oh, and the officers were coming closer, their eyes locking in on him. He would have to make things quick. What a shame.

Sungha tucked the blade away, producing a white silk handkerchief instead. "And now..." he said, voice soft and only for her. "Now, the magic starts." He wrapped the silk around his bleeding hand, going around twice but not bothering to tie it off so the bleeding would slow. Instead, he let the silk soak up his blood, staining the fibers bright red. The color was always so much lovelier contrasted against white. A soft sigh escaped the performer as he admired it before he reached for the handkerchief again.

Sungha unwrapped the cloth, and as the last corner left his skin, he folded the fabric back and revealed a mugunghwa. The flower, usually white or pink and ringed with red around the middle, was entirely red. It was his favorite color, after all. And much better matched the color of his blood, dripping around the stem of the flower as he held it out to the lady with a smile. "For the tigress," he said. "Do not ever forget how to use your claws. Keep them sharp, and keep them ready."

@❃ bang sungha The countess was engulfed in a asive sense of listlessness ever since she was sentenced to leave Hanseong for a year. Most days were confined to the Seols' expansive estate in Gangneung, her studies rigorous despite already knowing the contents of her books by heart. Endless hours were spent with numerous tutors, making her days unbearably monotonous. Her resilience could only endure so much. By the sixth month, she resolved that she could no longer endure the isolation, particularly compounded by the ache of a broken heart. Even in moments of quiet reflection at the estate, thoughts of a certain man lingered. This would not suffice. She craved a diversion.

Dressed in a more understated hanbok compared to her attire in Hanseong, Riah ventured out, her outfit adorned with simplicity yet elegance. Concealed within her jeogori was her prized ornate dagger, a testament to her refined taste and readiness for any unforeseen circumstances amidst the colorful chaos of the marketplace.

"Let us depart without delay then; I would not wish to arrive too late. I am curious to explore the array of accessories available," Riah remarked, mustering enthusiasm for the outing. Beneath her facade, she considered using this opportunity to procure local delicacies or exquisite accessories for her discerning friends.
Settling into her palanquin, Riah directed her entourage towards the marketplace. The journey was brief, and upon arrival, Riah chose to alight and traverse the vibrant streets on foot, eager to absorb the lively atmosphere and diverse sights of the bustling marketplace.

The market in Gangneung resembled Hanseong in its variety of shops, with familiar items alongside unique offerings exclusive to this region. As Riah strolled through the bustling scene, her focus was suddenly captured by a gathering crowd around a street performer. Intrigued, the countess found herself abandoning her initial shopping plans in favor of investigating the commotion.

Pushing through the throng, Riah positioned herself at the edge of the crowd, her curiosity piqued by the spectacle unfolding before her. The street performer, a captivating presence amidst the lively market, held Riah's attention as she momentarily forgot her purpose at the marketplace, captivated by the unexpected diversion.

Riah arrived just in time to witness the captivating performer, a man whose appearance was as striking as they came. "Would be good for my collection," Riah thought to herself, her interest piqued by more than just his skills.

As the performer deftly brandished a blade, proving its sharpness by drawing a thin line of blood for the audience to witness, Riah observed with mild admiration. She studied his every move, her guard subtly attentive nearby, ready to intervene if necessary. Despite her intrigue, Riah remained cautious; after all, any harm befalling her would warrant serious consequences from Duke Seol.

In that moment, Riah's troubling thoughts faded into the background as she became fully absorbed in the captivating performance unfolding before her. Her attention was fixed on the enigmatic stranger who had caught her eye. With genuine delight, Riah smiled and joined in the applause of the mesmerized crowd.

"Magic," the performer declared, and Riah was entranced. Nothing else held her interest as strongly as witnessing his act through to its conclusion. Locked in a shared moment of fascination, Riah's troubles momentarily lifted, replaced by the wonder and allure of the street performer’s display when their gazes met.

As the performer approached her with a dagger, Riah's excitement grew rather than any sense of needing to defend herself. With a smile on her lips, she eagerly accepted the dagger and, with practiced precision, drew a line on his palm. Her gaze locked with his, Riah applied just enough pressure to draw blood, her touch deliberate and controlled up until the end where she applies more pressure perhaps to make it hurt just enough.

Glancing at her handiwork, Riah observed the vibrant red pooling at his palm. The sight brought a vividness to her surroundings, as if colors had suddenly intensified around her.

"What happens next?" Riah inquired, her eyes bright with genuine interest as she searched the performer's gaze for answers, intrigued by the unfolding mystery and eager for the continuation of his act.

@✿ seol riah [ 1861, marketplace, gangneung ]
{` these violent delights have violent ends };

From the moment Sungha had been found on the side of a road by Mother Bang all those years ago, he had been transformed into an artist. Mother Bang had a vision for children, for Sungha and the other boys she had already adopted at the time. Artists, performers, perhaps more. The world felt open and full of possibilities when she spoke. Sungha did not do well with authority, often getting into scraps with officers over a single look or curl of the lip. But Mother Bang made him focus; made him see the possibilities.

After all, performing was a better way to make a living than stealing and begging. And with a face as pretty as Sungha's, it was a waste indeed. Mother Bang taught him all sorts of dances, but Sungha did not mesh well with most of them. That was when the knives were brought out. All sorts of knives. Some of them were long, thin, and bent easily. Many were for performance only, some coming from their neighboring country to the north. And some of the knives were sharp and balanced perfectly in his hands, coming from the middle-east with their curved tips.

Sungha's performance today was with swords. A dance women often learned, but Sungha had perfected as well. Once he finished, he passed around his bowl, the many viewers dropping small coins inside. He moved on, pulling out his long, sharp daggers. "These are real," he assured the curious crowd. To make a point, Sungha took one knife, pushing his fingertip to the point and not even flinching when it broke the skin. When he showed the crowd the small bead of red, they began to look at each other, curious as to what he would do with them. Sungha grinned, lips stretching just a touch too wide, a touch too feral. He held two blades in one hand, one in the other, and began juggling, always catching by the hilts.

The crowd tittered and dropped more coins, and Sungha was ready to move onto his next performance when he saw movement further along the street. Officers. His smile dropped slightly. He had no permit, no permission to be performing here, and that meant trouble. Vendors didn't like him stealing their limelight and potential coin, after all. So he would have to wrap things up quickly. "Lastly, I would like to show everyone something incredibly special. A lost art, one I learned from a man traveling from the west..." He paused, eyes sweeping over the crowd for effect. "Magic." He said the word quietly, as if conspiring.

Some of the ladies gasped, while the gentleman gave each other doubting looks. No matter--he'd fix those. Sungha took one of his pretty daggers, looking among the crowd for the best candidate. His eyes snagged on a young woman, a beautiful one. It appeared as though she had no companion, though perhaps one was following behind. Or maybe she ran off to see him perform. Either way, Sungha liked the energy she gave off. He flashed her a grin as he approached her, offering the dagger to her, hilt-side out.

"Hello, my lady," he greeted, eyes glued to hers. Sungha was like that. When he saw something pretty, he felt a strange possessive rush. His desire to own, to have, to possess, was strong. But always, always he held back. It was a part of himself he didn't fully understand yet, much like his infatuation with pain. Sungha held out his palm to her, already decorated with a few silver lines. "Would you do me the honor?" He guided the blade of the knife across his palm in a silent request, eyes dancing. Would she do it? Oh, he hoped she would. What fun that would be!

@❁ kwon bora Certainly, if there was anything Garam disliked more about clients like these, it was probably the worst things that could come to the human mind. She really hated customers who thought they knew more than Garam did about fortunetelling. Surely, they could and probably do, it was not like Garam took the craft seriously nor did she really believe in what she did. It was coincidences, really creepy and profitable ones, but that was all they were. That was Garam wished to believe, at least. They were profitable, yet, Garam could only trust the ones that came every so often. The rest of it, such as most of the things she told Bora, were just guess-work.

And, perhaps, Bora was beginning to notice that.

Bora was likely no different than Garam, her worn and tattered clothes telling of a sangmin or cheonmin woman, likely sangmin since she had the money to burn on useless fortunetelling and was not a gisaeng. Yet, she was a loyal customer, someone Garam could rely on to get food for that week. Losing her business would mean Garam would have to find some other gullible person to believe her so easily…

“Miss Kwon, you are letting your terror take over you.” Garam warned, trying to ignore Bora’s guessing game. “Unfortunately, while your week may be peaceful, that does not mean that you will… Well, that you will be at peace. I have no way to tell that. If I did, I’d be working in an entirely different business.” She murmured, almost a grumble. She didn’t know, her only feeling in her head telling her to choose randomly or based off of guessing just because. If she did know, Garam would be a rich woman, likely sitting in the palace walls. Or she’d be locked up in an asylum from going mad at seeing the future so clearly.

But Bora would not relent, and Garam knew that. “I, Shinae, cannot read your mind. My fortunetelling is a lot more… sparse than a silly game.” Garam held Bora’s gaze, and then, sighed. “Right hand.”

@❁ cheon suho Garam had peacefully accepted that her old life no longer existed, that was how she saw it. Her father was fearful the fire meant more than just an accident, so they had become ghosts in Hanseong, eventually allowing their family seal to become obscured and the father and daughter to fade into the foreground as if they never existed. Garam had always wished to see her family again, even those who she knew was deceased like her aunt and sister, but as the years went by, that old life had become nothing more than a good dream she once had. The people around her, who didn’t know of her status nor did she of them, had become nothing more than faceless figures who showed her that warmth she once craved.

Yet, Myunghee stared at her only a few feet away.

Suho was not her, of course he wasn’t, he was a man, a head or two taller than Garam, and he wasn’t even blood related to Garam. However, the sparkle in his eyes reminded her so much of that long lost dream. Garam couldn’t even remember what Myunghee looked like anymore, let alone her own sister or aunt, she could only picture the face that looked at her in the mirror. In a way, that is what Garam saw in Suho’s eyes, her own reflection, yet she had a glimpse of Myunghee’s life before her, everything she didn’t know. It almost made her well up in tears, but she tore her gaze away quick enough.

The recollection of that fire made her tremble. She wished she could forget it, yet it touched her wherever they ran, even now, as she was all alone without her father, she still could see the flames. It had been easier to forget about Myunghee, but Garam had never considered how…. How it may have been easy for her, but took a life’s worth of hard work to forget Garam from Myunghee. For a moment, Garam felt that grief and regret settle into her body, feeling sluggish.

“Stop calling me that,” She snapped, frustration lacing her voice. “M—My name is Na Garam. I will give you that, at least, if you are truly who you say you are.” He didn’t give her any reason for her to believe otherwise, and Garam, who had a great intuition, couldn’t find one herself. “My father and I left that village that night, we were the only survivors. But, it is only me, and I have nothing left to my name. My father has been gone for many years.”

Garam swallowed the lump in . She had never told anyone so many details about her life, ever, really, as she could barely accept it herself. Yet, that image of Myunghee tirelessly searching for her, and eventually passing before they could see each other one last time… It was almost unbearable.

“To be frank, I wish you hadn’t found me.” Garam had no reason to speak her mind now, but if she didn’t, the thoughts would collude and corrupt until she started to cry in front of a stranger. Her voice turned frustrated and angry. “But… I am sorry for your loss. I know what it’s like to lose someone like that. While I wish I had never learned of Myunghee’s fate, I am sure she is happy to see that we have finally met.”

Abruptly, Garam stood, placing the crystal ball back to it’s rightful place and keeping her gaze away from Suho. What else was there to say? “Well, now you know. I’m fine. That’s all there is left to it.”

@❀ kim hyunji As Ilwoo rode through the forest, his senses keenly attuned to the rhythm of his surroundings, he was abruptly interrupted by the piercing screech of his falcon, Aeun. Without hesitation, he spurred his horse into action, following Aeun's direction with a sense of urgency.

As they emerged from the dense foliage into the marketplace, Ilwoo's eyes narrowed at the sight before him—a carriage besieged by a group of ruthless bandits. The air crackled with tension, and Ilwoo could sense the danger lurking beneath the chaos.

Emerging from the foliage, Ilwoo spotted a scene of chaos—a carriage besieged by ruthless bandits. Without pausing, he guided his horse within range, his bow already in hand. Spotting a bandit about to ambush the lady from behind, Ilwoo's arrow flew with deadly accuracy, striking the assailant before he could execute his attack. With practiced precision, he notched an arrow, his focus unwavering as he took aim at another bandit. With a swift release, the arrow found its mark, felling the assailant with deadly accuracy.

Maintaining his position on horseback, Ilwoo continued to rain arrows down on the bandits, each shot finding its mark with lethal precision. His horse moved with agility and grace, carrying him effortlessly as he provided cover for the lady, who fought valiantly with her bo staff.

As the bandits turned their attention towards this new threat, Ilwoo moved with a grace born of years of training. His movements were fluid, his arrows finding their targets with lethal precision. With each shot, he whittled away at the bandits' numbers, his resolve unwavering in the face of adversity.

With a swift motion, he dismounted his horse, his bow still in hand. Approaching the bandits on foot, Ilwoo's presence was a formidable sight. With authority in his voice, he addressed the bandits, his identity and intentions clear. "Stand down," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "You face not just this lady, but the Jang clan." The Jang clan was known to be a family of military men. His words echoed through the clearing, a reminder of the formidable reputation that preceded the Jang clan wherever they went. For centuries, they had been known as stalwart defenders, their warriors honed in the art of combat and steeped in the traditions of martial prowess.

As the bandits hesitated, their resolve faltering in the face of such a formidable adversary, Ilwoo stood tall, his stance unwavering. The remaining assailants quickly realized the tide had turned against them. With their injured comrades in tow, they beat a hasty retreat into the depths of the forest, vanishing like shadows into the undergrowth.

Ilwoo watched them go, his expression resolute, ensuring they posed no further threat to Hyunji or her precious cargo. With a silent acknowledgment, he turned back to Hyunji, his gaze softening with concern. Ilwoo turned to Hyunji, his expression solemn yet respectful. "Are you injured?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of concern.

@❁ hong yeoreum Ilwoo's morning had begun with a leisurely stroll through the vibrant market, his steps guided by the rhythmic pulse of life that emanated from every corner. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the earthy aroma of herbs and spices, creating an intoxicating symphony that filled the air.

As he wandered through the maze of stalls, his eyes danced over the colorful array of goods on display. From intricately woven fabrics to gleaming trinkets, each item held a story waiting to be discovered. He paused at a stall adorned with handcrafted jewelry, admiring the delicate craftsmanship of each piece.

Lost in the beauty of the market, he almost didn't notice the subtle shift in atmosphere until he felt the weight of someone's gaze upon him. Turning with practiced grace, he followed the gaze to its source, finding himself locking eyes with a young woman who stood nearby. She seemed entranced by his presence, her cheeks flushed with color as she stumbled forward.

Reacting on instinct, Ilwoo reached out to steady her, his touch gentle yet firm as he grasped her arm. "Are you okay, miss?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern as he met her gaze with warmth and sincerity. Despite the chaos of the market around them, his focus remained solely on her, his senses attuned to her every movement and reaction.

@✿ choi siwoo “pardon?” nabi’s voice cut through the air, laced with disbelief and a hint of irritation, her brows furrowing deeper in confusion as she listened to the man’s words. her lips curled into a scowl as she instinctively seized the sleeve of his hanbok before he could further attempt to depart. what was his deal?

“listen, i understand that the nature of this transaction may be embarrassing for you, but you are too grown of a man to be playing a fool right now,” she retorted sharply, her tone tinged with a mix of frustration and impatience. “first, you would not come into my establishment out of fear it would ruin your reputation. and now, you lure me out with the allure of a hefty payment to suddenly change your mind? what is wrong with you?”

the air between them crackled with tension as nabi continued, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. “even if you do not respect me for whatever reason, it is quite ridiculous behavior for someone of your station to be wasting my time.”

with a deft movement, she reached beneath the flap of her jeogori, retrieving the silk pouch of herbs she had brought for the exchange. “see?” she declared, holding up the pouch for his inspection. “it is perfectly concealed. as long as you act right, no one will have a clue about the true nature of what is in here.”

nabi released his sleeve, her dissatisfaction palpable in the weariness creeping into her expression. “it will do neither of us good to be spotted with one another either, so let us hurry this exchange up so we can both go on our own ways.”

@❀ kim byungjun [h] < BACKDATED: October 1868 >
destiny worked in peculiar ways. usually, when two people reunite after ten years, butterflies would flit in one’s stomach as they reconnect with one another. upon being released from his confinement, he relished in his newfound freedom but also stumbled onto an unexpected passerby. said passerby was not an acquaintance, but his first love. with a lack of clairvoyance, he was unable to foresee the slight awkwardness between the both of them.

“you seem to have kept yourself busy over the years.” he remarked with a wry chuckle.

despite the bitterness lingering within him, sangwook was genuinely pleased with how well both of the managed to live. even though the pair diverged from their lives ten years ago, elation swelled within him for life taking care of him well when he couldn’t.

the feelings of fancy dissipated long ago, but hearing byungjun’s voice felt like a tender caress. akin to the clandestine touches they have felt, he was reminded of their familiar encounters, both in person and through letters. at the time, his hands felt bereft from the lack of missives, as he didn’t receive many visits from the couriers. it left him forlorn, lonely in the tavern they visited as a copious amount of empty jugs began to pile up. no amount of alcohol made him forget, however, as he remained to be a memory that stuck to him. there was something amiss in his long disappearance, like there was a curse casted upon him by a warlock. as outlandish was it was, that was his belief for the longest time. time may have healed his wounds, but not quell his morbid curiosity.

“similar reasons you are here! i always felt the need to keep my belly full, and now i am aware you need to feed others as well.” even though he held a treasure trove of tales to tell the other, the marquess contemplated on a more succinct way to tell his truths. “and also, i have been confined to my estate for a couple of months, but it felt like eons! and it was because my love for someone was ‘forbidden’.” he suppressed an eyeroll as he spoke. “alas, i returned here, but without having it be a secret. though, is there anything else you need from our.. initial meeting?”

@✿ jang ilwoo As Hyunji's carriage rattled along the uneven road to the marketplace, the air crackled with anticipation. The day held the promise of business deals and exchanges, yet little did she know that danger lurked just around the bend.

Suddenly, the tranquility was shattered by the thundering hooves of galloping horses. Before Hyunji could react, the carriage was surrounded by a band of ruthless bandits, their faces obscured by tattered cloths and their eyes gleaming with greed.

Hyunji's guards sprang into action, their swords drawn and ready to defend their charge. But the bandits were swift, their movements like shadows in the night. Within moments, two of Hyunji's guards lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious from the force of the bandits' blows.

Fear clenched at Hyunji's heart, but she refused to succumb to panic. With a fierce determination burning in her eyes, she seized a bo staff hidden beneath the folds of her cloak. It was a weapon she had trained with for years, honing her skills in anticipation of such a moment.

As the bandits closed in, Hyunji moved with the agility of a cat, her bo staff a blur of motion as she struck out at her assailants. One bandit stumbled back with a cry of pain as her staff connected with his ribs, while another found himself sprawling in the dirt under the force of her blows.

But the bandits were relentless, their numbers overwhelming. Hyunji fought with all her strength, every strike fueled by a fierce determination to protect herself and her precious cargo of fabrics.

As the battle raged on, Hyunji found herself outnumbered and outmatched. Yet still, she stood her ground, a beacon of defiance in the face of adversity. For she knew that surrender was not an option, and that she would fight until her last breath to defend what was hers.

@✿ jang ilwoo Thick brows, pretty lips, oh-so-slightly upturned eyes and a defined jaw. An intense stare with just a hint of capacity for playfulness hidden within them. Eyes that could bore into your very heart. And yet the overall impression his face gave was- cute. A manly type of cute, or perhaps a cute type of manly...? He was dressed so finely too, in deep, rich hues with subtle but key accents highlighting his handsomeness and elegant silhouette. Yeoreum's large brows eyes were fixed on the stranger's figure who was standing just a few metres away from her. He was like a character from a novel who had stepped right out of the pages and into reality. The way he carried himself, effortless charm seeping from every minuscule movement and those eyes... those eyes. If he were to look at her, just for a moment, Yeoreum knew her heart would leap. Yeoreum bit down on the inside of her lower lip and reached up to brush her hair over one shoulder, fingertips tugging and twirling the strands of her long, long braid.

His presence alone turned a simple market into a poetry in motion. The familiar setting of this market she frequented felt new and exciting with him in the picture. How was it possible for someone to be so utterly mesmerizing? Every feature on his face was meticulously crafted, as if by the hands of an artist. Each feature exquisitely balanced, forming a visage both imposing, endearing and exciting. Someone bumped into Yeoreum and she stumbled a step forward, her gaze never leaving him. A blush crept onto her cheeks. She wondered what his voice sounded like. Surely it would be smooth and velvety, befitting his appearance.

@✿ baek yunseo It was supposed to be Yeoreum's day off, and she had been really looking forward to heading to the river and watching the ducks but instead she was at the market... Her disappointment could not be put into words. It was a beautiful day. She wanted to go pick flowers, lay in a field and sneak into a forest in hopes of seeing a deer... not stare at vegetables. The one positive thing since the fall of the family was how freely Yeoreum was allowed to move about. In the past, she had not been allowed to leave the estate without the presence of her father. Later, every blue moon she was allowed to visit the market or the teahouse in the company of her maid and a guard trailing behind. Yeoreum hadn't actually minded much. She was a 'good girl' and happy to abide by her parents' rules to make them happy. But now... now she could go anywhere she wanted whenever she wanted. The city had so many beautiful places she had never known about! Many ugly, scary places too.

And here she was staring at vegetables. Yeoreum's lips curled into a frown, bright eyes glaring at the innocent greens laid out in front of her. "Are you going to buy or just look, girl? Hurry up!", the middle-aged woman barked at her. Yeoreum flinched at the raised town and lifted her gaze to the other woman. Her frown morphed into a pout, her eyes glimmering with not anger anymore but grievance and sadness. "Sheesh, fine, fine. Take your time." The woman reached for a cabbage. "These are good. Very fresh, easy to cook too." Yeoreum just nodded, eliciting a frustrated sigh from the woman. Yeoreum had stood in front of these vegetables for 5 minutes, daydreaming about all the places she'd rather be right now. Delicate as she was, being pressured to hurry up was going to have the exact opposite effect on her, so the woman was doomed to put up with her some more. A few more minutes passed. The woman had decided to just ignore Yeoreum, which Yeoreum appreciated. She was in a bad mood and didn't feel like chatting. Eventually, she looked away from the vegetables. The woman looked at her hopefully and Yeoreum smiled shyly and turned away from the stand. If eyes could curse, Yeoreum's 5 generations of ancestors would be rolling in their grave right now.

Clutching a small basket, she stepped into the road intending to cross and visit another vegetable stand. She was daydreaming again, her head tilted up at the sky. Such a beautiful blue sky. She could stare at it for hours. Her feet came to a stop and she closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the Sun. Unbeknownst to her, she was standing in the middle of the road. Usually not a problem. How could she know that the child who had stolen some of her money the other day had tried to use it to bribe the horse merchant to pet the horses, only to be rudely chased away? How could she know that the child, feeling resentful, had rallied its gang of streetrunners to release all the horses and whipped them twigs to get them to run off. How could she know that that same band of rattled horses were storming down this very road, raising a giant cloud of dust. Someone yelled and people dove out of the way, but not Yeoreum. She was firmly floating in her own dream world filled with flowers, waterfalls and beautiful animals.