“Go play with that fancy evil spirit of yours.”

            “Are you angry?”

            “…”

            “Why?”

            To his trivial question, she waved her hand and walked off. She didn’t place much significance on his actions, whether he followed or not. He kept a fixed distance, following without seeming to watch her, as if he had eyes on the back of his head.

            The spot where Beodeul had hidden her traps was near the Soru River, and the sound of splashing water could be heard. Regret washed over her as she picked up the first trap, realising she had chosen the location poorly. There were no rabbits in the traps, only unlucky sparrows and snakes that happened to pass by.

            ‘Yunhu could pick them out so well.’

            As she felt sorry and burdened by the thought of Yunhu having to share his catch with her out of obligation, his voice reached her.

            “Beodeul.”

            A fragrant breath clung to the back of her neck. She almost jumped, caught off guard. The young master nonchalantly approached her and, taking her empty hand, smiled slightly.

            “I’ll help you. Let’s go together tomorrow.”

            Setting Yunhu or whatever aside.

            His crescent moon-like eyes curved beautifully. Despite the anger from the past, he acted more familiarly as if that day’s quarrel had never happened.

            From then on, ignoring him lasted only a moment. The next day, and the day after that, he crouched under the large tree planted outside the thorn gate, waiting for her to come out and acknowledge him.

            Unable to bear it, she asked coldly.

            “Are you planning to give up your studies at the academy too?”

            “I snuck out without anyone knowing.”

            Proud of his stealth, he whispered with a giggle, undeterred by her disapproving attitude. He shamelessly took her fishing net to examine it.

            It was futile to resist. If she didn’t respond, he would sit in front of the yard until she looked at him, and if her mother caught this scene, her own life would be at risk. Her mother would lash out, saying, ‘Are you still associating with that man? Do you want his bad luck to rub off on you?’

            To prevent both their heads from rolling, she hastily took him to the riverbank.

            “You said you’d help.”

            “Do you know how to herd fish?”

            “Trust me.”

            One couldn’t spit in a smiling face. Her resolve to ignore him died. She had no choice but to follow him, as he had waited all day and came running eagerly.

            The young master pulled out a small pouch and began scattering its contents over the water like grains of rice. Beodeul did as he instructed, spreading her net wide.

            After a while, as she was half-doubting, half-participating, the river darkened as if a storm cloud had passed overhead. She watched a large shadow ripple beneath the water and almost dropped the net. The net was pushed and pulled until she gripped it tightly, feeling a heavy weight.

            “What have you done?”

            “My teacher taught me how to lure fish with bait.”

            The net, once drawn in, contained about a dozen plump fish.

            “By teacher, you mean the academy?”

            “No.”

            Was it that mysterious teacher again? By this point, she was very curious about the identity of this teacher. She counted the wriggling fish and wiped her saliva. It looked like a feast was in store. His offer to help wasn’t just empty talk after all.

            “What is this bait?”

            At her question, the young master merely smiled enigmatically.

            “Aren’t I more useful than Yunhu?”

            Indeed, if it was a matter of usefulness, the young master was superior…

            Her elation at the fish quickly faded. Regardless of her gratitude, she couldn’t let go of the grudge from that day and curtly muttered “Thank you” before turning away. She was deliberately cold, yet he followed her diligently.

            She should have shaken him off. It had been only moments since she had coldly made it clear, but her body, devoid of any backbone, refused to reject him.

            Her mother had once told her that their lives were not meant to settle but to wander, to leave without attachment, to desire nothing when departing. One needed solid ground to look around and claim their share, but such a life was far out of reach.

            She suddenly feared whether she could leave this place nonchalantly after his death. Could she bury everything as if it never happened? Truly?

            Initially, she had wanted to see the young master’s funeral and then leave, but now she found herself wishing that he would die after she left. It was a strange turn of feelings.

            ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✦ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──