“Ah, say aah.”
Hwaryun stared at Ryeon with a look of disbelief before silently opening his mouth.
He nibbled away at the Yakgwa Ryeon broke off for him piece by piece.
Because he resembled a baby bird, Ryeon grinned and said, “Is it good? I’m sharing my favorite treat with you.”
“Yeah, well… it’s good.”
“But…”
“…?”
Ryeon stared blankly at the remaining piece of Yakgwa, which was less than half its original size, before grinning mischievously.
Ryeon rapped her knuckles against the top of Hwaryun’s head.
“Where do you get off using informal speech with your big sister? You little thing.”
“…”
Ryeon spoke with her hands on her hips as if laying down the law, leaving Hwaryun looking completely dumbfounded.
Looking as if he had just witnessed someone jump right back up after being struck by lightning—or rather, as if he had been struck by lightning himself—Hwaryun was so shocked that the old basket he was holding slipped from his hands.
His reaction was so extreme that Ryeon flinched in return.
“D… Did that hurt a lot? I did it gently… It was just a tiny little bonk…”
“…No, it didn’t hurt…”
“Really? But look at this guy!”
“…!”
Ryeon rapped his head once more. Hwaryun flinched and took a step back, rubbing the top of his head a few times. He looked at Ryeon with an expression of utter incredulity.
Then, suddenly, Hwaryun laughed.
Just as quickly, he stopped laughing and examined her face from every angle.
He did this for quite a while, until Ryeon tilted her head in confusion.
“Mm, I have to go now.”
Whether it was because he had been scolded for using informal speech or simply decided to play along, Hwaryun spoke politely this time.
When he suddenly announced he was leaving, Ryeon blinked, taken aback.
“Uh, now? Already?”
Hwaryun nodded and picked up the basket he had dropped. Ryeon shoved the remaining Yakgwa into his mouth, then hurriedly ran to where her Nanny was hiding to retrieve an umbrella.
“Take this for now. It’s raining… And I feed the chickens here every morning. If you come here at this time, you can meet me. Okay? You have to come play.”
Hwaryun moved his hands this way and that to refuse the umbrella, but Ryeon firmly snatched his hand and forced him to hold it.
Hwaryun stared at Ryeon for a moment, gave a single nod, and turned away.
Still feeling restless, Ryeon grabbed the turning boy one more time and dumped all the Yakgwa and Sticky Rice Cakes she had in her bosom into his arms.
Hwaryun looked at her with a face that asked why she was giving him all this, but when Ryeon pushed his back, he didn’t refuse any further and obediently walked away.
As Ryeon stood blankly watching the boy’s retreating back, Nanny Jang quickly approached her.
“Young Lady!”
“Ah, Nanny.”
Nanny Jang wiped Ryeon’s hands with a thin cloth and held a coat over her head to shield her from the rain, scanning Ryeon’s face.
“Young Lady, do you fancy that boy?”
Ryeon swallowed a complicated expression and forced a smile.
“…If you happen to see that boy, treat him well, okay? Make sure to give him tasty things, too.”
Nanny Jang nodded at Ryeon’s earnest plea, but she couldn’t completely hide her worried expression.
*
Lately, Danmok Cheongi had a headache. It was none other than his Eldest Grandchild, who seemed completely incapable of reading the room.
“Do you think my mind will change just because you come here every day?”
“No?”
“…No? Then why do you keep coming if you know that?”
“Huh? Because I wanted to see you, Grandfather.”
The granddaughter spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, leaving Danmok Cheongi speechless.
“Ahem.”
“Ah! I drew the water for the tea today myself. From the stream behind Wolyeongjae.”
“What if you had fallen in…”
“Kang Rip went with me. I’ll brew the tea for you today, Grandfather.”
Danmok Cheongi let out a groaning sound and waved his hand. It meant she could do as she pleased.
At that, his granddaughter began to move her hands nonchalantly. Every movement was smooth, like flowing water.
Danmok Cheongi looked down at his granddaughter with strangely shimmering eyes as she arranged the tea leaves.
He had been surprised when this granddaughter woke up and came to offer her gratitude regarding the Ten-Thousand-Year Supreme Blood Treasure.
She acted as if the burn scars settled on her face didn’t exist at all.
However, since it had only been a few months since she woke up, he had simply assumed she couldn’t yet distinguish between what was ugly and what wasn’t.
But she had continued to visit every single day since then. She didn’t do anything special when she came.
She would stay with him for about two hours, sipping the tea he brewed and chattering about trivial things before leaving. That was all.
Yet, during those long hours of sitting, her posture never faltered, she never looked bored, and she didn’t find the occasional silences awkward.
Wasn’t it said that a supreme master could understand the principles of the world just by watching a single leaf fall?
To Danmok Cheongi, who had once commanded the world before his injury, signs of extraordinary potential were visible.
The way she arranged the tea tools, placed the leaves into the Gaiwan, poured the hot water to moisten the leaves, and shook them to smell the fragrance—her movements were identical to his own.
It was enough to make him entertain the absurd notion that Marrow Cleansing was responsible for this.
But more than anything, watching this tiny child move while gripping a teacup as big as her own hand made his heart tremble strangely.
“Grandfather, please have some.”
The little chestnut-sized child pouted her lips in concentration as she held out the brewed tea, but her arms were so small and short that they couldn’t even reach halfway across the table.
Danmok Cheongi covered a laugh that almost burst out with a fake cough, then wrapped his hands around the cup his granddaughter offered.
He closed his eyes and savored the tea.
A clear and clean water color, a profound scent, and a natural sweetness that lingered in the mouth for a long time.
Decades ago, when the clan was in its prime, he could taste all sorts of rare and precious tea leaves, but not anymore.
Danmok Cheongi had long grown accustomed to the taste of old, musty tea leaves. Yet, the tea his granddaughter brewed brought back memories of the aroma of rare teas he had tasted during his most glorious days.
The taste of the tea was as clear as spring water, and a single sip seemed to ease his breathing and his stomach.
It was the exact same tea leaf he had brewed and drunk just the day before…
“How is it?”
As he calmed his surprise and slowly savored the scent, the persistent pain stemming from his Dantian, damaged since the battle with Hyulla Valley decades ago, felt like it was slowly subsiding.
When he lifted his head and opened his eyes, his granddaughter’s sparkling eyes were fixed on him. She was expecting his impression of the taste.
“…Your skill is not entirely bad.”
Did she take after her father?
His first son also had a deep understanding of tea and used to sit with him occasionally to enjoy the aroma.
Danmok Cheongi thought of his first son, who had left this world earlier than him, and closed his mouth. Thinking of his son felt like a large spike being driven into his heart, but could that compare to the feelings of a daughter who had never even captured her father’s face in her eyes?
“You should focus on practicing the tea ceremony rather than thinking of making things like Sticky Rice Cakes.”
He said it to divert his thoughts, but a shadow fell over his young granddaughter’s face.
Danmok Cheongi inwardly thought, , but he did not take back his words.
There was a reason for this. Once, his granddaughter had made Sticky Rice Cakes and brought them during her morning greeting.
The red bean paste was so sweet it was actually bitter, and the white rice cake was barely chewable. After eating it all, a strangely refreshing and cold minty taste lingered in his mouth.
He was an old man who had even been through war. Eating was a necessity, not an enjoyment, so he had no interest in snacks or gourmet food.
He was the type to eat whatever was given to him without complaint. His only luxury was drinking tea. Even then, due to the family’s declining fortunes, sipping old tea little by little was all he could do.
But the clumsily shaped red bean Sticky Rice Cake his granddaughter had made tasted truly formidable, even to someone like Danmok Cheongi.
Back then, he thought it was natural she couldn’t make things well because she was young. But seeing how elegantly she brewed tea, it was clear she simply couldn’t cook.
Danmok Cheongi secretly resolved that when his granddaughter grew up and the day of her wedding arrived, he would strictly include the best chef in Zhejiang Province in her dowry.
“But still, the tea…”
His granddaughter mumbled, trailing off.
The thought that he shouldn’t praise her more and make her arrogant crossed his mind, but Danmok Cheongi couldn’t bring himself to speak strictly.
“I told you. You did well enough.”
Only then did the shadow lift from her face, replaced by a smile.
Danmok Cheongi realized that during the brief moment his granddaughter’s face had darkened, he had forgotten the taste of the tea. Now, he could feel the taste again. It was a warm and soft sweetness.
