‘Even now?’

            ‘Would now be any different?’

            He slightly tilted his head as if questioning why she would ask such a thing.

            ‘Beodeul, you…’

            ‘I had an older brother five years my senior, but I don’t know if he’s dead or alive. Though he’s probably dead.’

            He took a shallow breath, carefully observing her expression and slightly furrowing his brow, as if trying to gauge her sorrow.

            ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’

            ‘The person died before I was born, just like my father.’

            Beodeul wasn’t particularly troubled by the talk of her brother, whom she had no memories of. Of course, on the anniversary of his death, when her mother wept, she would be infected by the sorrow, but that was all.

            ‘Isn’t it too much, what the young master’s brothers are doing? They say you should treat well those who are with you. They could at least pay a visit to their sick brother’s residence, say a kind word. How busy or far away must they be to not visit even once? Regardless of any dislike, they are still blood, aren’t they?’

            The young master looked down at her as she rattled on, his lips curling into a strange smile, as if suppressing a laugh.

            ‘Do you know what I’ve heard so often that it’s like a corn in my ear?’

            ‘What is it?’

            Her pace slowed for a moment. After glancing at a skiff bobbing on the river, he returned his gaze to her.

            ‘My mother cried, asking what sin she had committed to give birth to someone like me. My father threatened to disown me if I couldn’t fulfill the duties of a person.’

            ‘Your mother said that?’

            ‘It’s an old memory, not very clear.’

            She could tell from his lack of reaction that he had grown accustomed to such treatment, numb to the pain. She had nothing more to say.

            But then she wondered, were these words heard before he fell ill, or while he was sick?

            Since Beodeul had settled here only a year ago, she didn’t know the details of how he had been treated before. But were the young master’s two brothers really that remarkable? Even if they were not considering his long illness, the brothers were no better than the young master.

            Suddenly, the young master plucked something and pushed it in front of her, tickling her cheek with it. She wondered what he was doing, and then realised it was a Beodeul leaf he had torn off.

            ‘What is this?’

            ‘Your friends.’

            He added a nonsensical remark and giggled. She wanted to look after him like a mother, but unfortunately, as his crescent-moon fingertips brushed her cheek, her heart tingled with discomfort.

            He tucked the Beodeul leaf behind her ear as if it were a flower stem. They both knew each other to be men, and yet, what they were doing seemed odd for two men.

            When she wriggled from the itch, the young master encouraged her to shake more, amused, and tucked another leaf behind her other ear. They found joy in such a trivial thing. She smiled faintly, following his peaceful-looking face.

            They didn’t know each other well. They had been together for a year, but all she knew was that they were of the same age. However, she hoped that he, who might not have had many days of laughter in his life, would smile long and often. She had believed that her brother had died because of her, and since that day, she had hoped to become a source of joy for someone else.

            Beodeul had wanted to become someone’s joy, but she couldn’t even make her closest mother smile. She had been unfortunate from the womb, born as a traitor’s descendant, and lived as a burden. Beodeul, who had lived such a life, longed for a piece of genuine laughter just as much as the young master needed a friend.

            ‘Beodeul. That’s not your real name, is it.’

            Her thoughts were interrupted by a light touch on her shoulder. She blinked for a moment before responding.

            ‘Yes, it is.’

            ‘Really?’

            He pursed his lips. Perhaps he thought it sounded like the name of the neighbour’s dog. She wasn’t offended; she was used to hearing it.

            ‘Don’t you have a family name?’

            Just then, a chilly wind passed behind her ear and disappeared like smoke towards the river. At the end of her gaze, she noticed a dark shadow rippling on the water.

            What she had believed to be the shadow of a Beodeul tree was slowly moving along with the young master. When it merged with the young master’s shadow reflected in the river, she felt a chill.

            ‘Youn…!’

            It was too late when she called out. As he turned to look in surprise, his body staggered, gripped by an invisible force yanking at his ankle, and he vanished before her eyes.