The young master, nobility to the bone, followed her leisurely enjoying the forest’s ambiance, but for Beodeul, it was a matter of survival, so her movements had to be quick. Therefore, she was now sweating uncomfortably under the scorching sun.
“Shall we bath?”
“No.”
“What’s the problem among men? There’s no one to see.”
He had enjoyed teasing her like this since he found out she was disguising herself as a man. It was obvious to anyone that there’s nothing ‘among men’ about it.

“The young master seems to occasionally forget that he is of noble birth. There are so many eyes around. Even wrapped up tight, it would hardly be enough.”
The young master blinked and glanced over Beodeul’s shoulder. Hearing a strange laugh, she turned to see that the old men spitting watermelon seeds had returned to their work.

“There’s a boat over there. Shall we go boating?”
Her fingertips pointed to a deserted boat floating like a dish.
The spirited young master looked at her with sparkling eyes. His gaze was intense, his cheeks turned the colour of peach, and his lips curved like a crescent moon. Even during the lantern festival, he had not looked so enchanting. Under the pouring light, his smiling face was etched into her memory, unforgettable.

Beodeul sighed secretly. Why did even such trivial things remind her of him?
“They say it’s going to rain this afternoon.”
Therefore, she intended to suggest they return home, but seeing the young master she liked, her heart wavered uncontrollably. Fiddling with the string of the hat around her neck, she watched the young master pull the boat towards them.

“Let’s just ride for a moment. How about it?”
“Hmm.”
It hadn’t been long since she had nearly drowned in the river.
‘There haven’t been any demon sightings lately… still.’
Worried about the unforeseen, but the young master, always led by his curiosity, seemed unconcerned.

“Come aboard.”
He somehow pinpointed Beodeul’s hesitation and pushed the boat toward her. The boat, shaped with curves at the front and back and flat at the bottom, big enough for two or three people, had a small roof-like structure to shield from the sun.
His subtle voice, and now the way he gently pulled at her ankle, left her no room to resist. She couldn’t think of an excuse to refuse.

Pretending to give in, she awkwardly sat in the boat. Lacking the skill to board properly, she nearly capsized, but the young master steadied her. He stared at the arm he had wrapped around her waist. Then, with a mischievous smile, he embraced her from behind and then let go.

“Stop joking.”
Having been ill, she thought his body would be frail, but the arm he placed around her was firm. Though still not fully grown, his gaze was above her head, and his smirk was playful.
Suddenly embraced then released, Beodeul sat down with an uncomfortable expression. His chuckling face stopped any further retort she might have had.

Afterward, the young master was absorbed in enjoying the scenery, while Beodeul found it hard to concentrate, inadvertently glancing under the boat. Although light contact during play had been commonplace, it was when he thought she was a man. But just now, it was a little… different.

“Beodeul, look over there.”
The young master nudged her chin with his finger, directing her gaze. The sunlight sprinkled on the Soru River opened her mouth in awe.
She had never realised it was such a beautiful place, always overshadowed by strange legends and sinister rumours.

“It’s beautiful.”
She realised it was her first time boating. She would be bored of boats a month later when she reached Dogok, but the view wouldn’t be like this.
She rested her chin on her hands and watched the fish swim rapidly, their scales glittering like silver. In front of her was a man exuding the scent of water plants, who stopped rowing to look at her.

“Aren’t you afraid of the water?”
The young master had nearly drowned twice, and even suffered from an illness afterward, so it would make sense for him to fear the river.
‘I wake up at the slightest sound or the faintest light outside the door, fearing it might be slave hunters after my mother and me.’
It had become a habit after experiencing such incidents several times.

“Water? That’s not what scares me.”
He muttered softly, then set down the oar. He moored the boat to a beautifully situated bank and reached out his smooth hand to her.
“Don’t you know?”
“What are you talking about?”
“People. They’re scary.”
The young master sometimes said things she couldn’t understand.

Beodeul took his hand and slowly stepped out of the boat. The wooden craft creaked softly beneath her feet. While he secured the boat to a suitable tree, she felt embarrassed by the fresh scent of water plants he had left behind and touched her neck.