The Flower That Blooms at Night
Dressed neatly in my Joseon gat and dopo, I began to walk in sync with Kana’s pace. The moment we stepped into the market, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The gazes of the countless people in the market turned toward me in unison, and whispers began to ripple through the air. "Is that the Master Painter from Joseon?" "Are all Joseon men that tall and handsome? What a striking figure." "I’d have no regrets if I could just get a single piece of his calligraphy or a painting." Young women passing by covered their mouths with their sleeves, giggling and casting shy, smiling glances my way. Watching this from the side, Kana nudged me and teased with her characteristically spirited voice, "Master Painter, your popularity is reaching the heavens, isn't it? Just look at the way those women are looking at you."
"Haha, popularity? Not at all... They’re just looking because a Joseon person is unfamiliar and fascinating to them." Feeling embarrassed, I fidgeted with my gat strings and cleared my throat for no reason. Once we began shopping in earnest, Kana’s eyes turned sharp. She checked the freshness of the green onions with precision, inspected the eggs for cracks, and scrutinized the color of the apples. Her haggling was remarkably shrewd. 'She’s so sharp; she’ll make a truly wonderful wife when she marries.' Just as I was watching her with a satisfied smile, an apple slipped from her hand as she was transferring items and tumbled to the ground. Kana reached out quickly for the rolling apple, and I reflexively bent down to grab it as well.
Swoosh.
"Ah..." In that split second, my palm landed directly over the back of Kana’s hand. The hand I touched was rough. Her skin was chapped in places from facing the hot fire in the kitchen every day, washing dishes in cold water, and holding a knife all day long. She was at an age where she should be dressing up prettily and touching only soft, delicate things. A wave of quiet pity welled up in a corner of my heart. "Th-thank you, Master Painter." Kana pulled her hand away in a hurry, as if startled, and picked up the apple. A deep crimson blush was spreading across her ears as she kept her head bowed low. I naturally took the heavy shopping basket from her hands as if snatching it away.
"Oh, Master Painter! That won't do. This is my job; how could I let a person of your status carry the load..." "It’s fine. It’s only natural for a man to carry something this heavy. Thanks to you, Kana, I’m enjoying a fun trip to the market, so I’ll carry this much." When I shook the basket lightly and flashed a grin, Kana couldn't say another word, her face turning red enough to burst, and she became as silent as a mute who had swallowed honey. That shy reaction from such a bold, tomboyish woman was a fresh delight every time I saw it. On the way back to the residence after finishing our shopping, I casually voiced my thoughts. "Kana, I think you’ll make a really good wife when you marry. You’re good at cooking and very capable with household chores."
"Yes? Ah... I, I’m just grateful that you see me that way." Kana fidgeted with the shopping basket, looking shy. I took the opportunity to ask a question I had been secretly curious about. "Do you have a man you’re seeing right now?" "A man? Not at all." "Is that so? Then when do you want to get married?" At my question, Kana wore a bitter smile for a moment before answering in a calm voice. "Servants of the Daikan like us aren't free to meet men or marry. We have to follow everything exactly as the Daikan decides. So... we don't even know if we'll ever be able to marry." "Ah..."
For a moment, it felt as if I had been struck on the head. That’s right, this was the Edo period, a society built on a rigid class system. To have no personal freedom, to work for a lifetime, and then have one's fate decided by a single word from the Daikan. A deep sense of pity for the cruel reality of this place washed over me.
. . .
Even after returning to the lodging, Kana’s lonely profile kept lingering in my mind. I walked straight into the kitchen. Kana, who was lighting a fire to prepare dinner, saw me and widened her eyes in surprise. "Master Painter? What brings you to the kitchen..." "Shh." I put my index finger to my lips, signaling her to be quiet. "I’m going to make dinner today." "What?! No, Master Painter! How could you do such menial work?" Kana waved her hands, trying to stop me, but I didn't blink and replied shamelessly, "I wanted to eat Joseon food today, so I’m going to cook it myself. Is that not allowed?"
In truth, I wanted to help her, even if just a little. During my five years of studying abroad in Japan, I had made every meal myself in my studio apartment. Thanks to that, I was quite confident in my cooking. "Do you have any flour?" Accepting the flour Kana handed over, I skillfully began to knead the dough, mixing in water. Then, I placed green onions on the cutting board and grabbed a knife. Tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak! Kana gasped in admiration as the green onions were sliced neatly in a steady rhythm. "Wow... Master Painter, your knife skills are amazing! What on earth are you making?" "It’s called sujebi, one of the traditional foods of Joseon."
I poured water into a large pot and lit the fire. I made a deep, savory broth with the dried anchovies we bought at the market, seasoned it with soy sauce, and gently swirled in some eggs, filling the kitchen with a mouth-watering aroma. "Now, we have to tear the dough thinly and put it in. Kana, would you like to do it with me?" I tore off half of the well-aged, elastic dough and handed it to her. Watching Kana clumsily toss the dough into the boiling broth, I demonstrated. Plop, plop. Seeing me rhythmically tearing and dropping the dough, Kana finally burst into a smile as bright as a child’s. Her face, beaming amidst the kitchen heat, looked incredibly beautiful.
When the food was ready, I called Sota and Tanaka from the yard. "Sota, Tanaka! Please set a large table in the yard so everyone at the residence can sit together." "Yes, Master Painter." Once a large table was spread in the middle of the yard, I ladled the piping hot sujebi from the pot and personally carried the bowls for every member of the household. Seeing this, Fujiwara came running in a panic. "Ma, Master Painter! What are you doing? How can you personally serve the servants' table!" "Fujiwara. I’m always being served by you all, so today I wanted to treat you to Joseon food I made myself. Please, for the sake of my sincerity, follow my wishes just for today."
Faced with my firm yet sincere attitude, Fujiwara had no choice but to back down. "...I understand. I am grateful for your excessive grace, Master Painter." Thus, all the servants of the residence gathered in one place. As everyone sat stiffly, I handed them renge (Japanese spoons) and encouraged them to eat comfortably. As they each took a spoonful of the hot sujebi, their eyes widened simultaneously. "Hmm?! What is this chewy texture?" "The broth is incredibly deep and savory! It’s truly delicious, Master Painter!" Praises erupted from everyone. Rumiko, the bubbly 'bagel girl,' sparkled as she asked me, "Are Joseon men really this good at cooking? Wow... Joseon men are just so cool!" Reina, the innocent beauty next to her, also whispered quietly with flushed cheeks, "I’m so envious..." At those words, Sota and Tanaka cleared their throats, feeling embarrassed for no reason.
"There’s still plenty of sujebi left in the pot, so please eat as much as you like. Rumiko, would you like another bowl?" "Yes! Master Painter, you’re the best!" Watching Rumiko happily accept another bowl, everyone gathered at the table laughed together in a warm, friendly atmosphere.
. . .
After finishing dinner, I returned to my room and lay flat on my back. My heart felt warm, as if I had grown much closer to the people in the residence. 'No system mission today for some reason. Well, it’s tiring if everything is always spectacular, so days like this are necessary too.' I took my brush from my pocket, fiddled with it, and placed it by my pillow. As I closed my eyes, the faces of Kana, Rumiko, and Reina passed by one after another. To think that such young, pretty women had never even had a chance to date and were doing all the menial work for me every day. I thought to myself that I should treat them really well while I was here. Perhaps because I had so many thoughts, I tossed and turned, but for some reason, I couldn't fall asleep easily today.
'This won't do. Maybe a light half-bath will help me sleep.' I got up, grabbed a towel, and headed toward the private bathhouse prepared inside the residence. Fortunately, there should still be some warm water left from the evening. The moment I walked into the bathhouse hallway, I heard the sound of calm water from beyond the firmly closed wooden door. 'Oh? Is someone already bathing?' It was the very moment I was about to turn back. Through the splashing water, a thin woman’s breathing leaked through the gap in the door. "Haa... Ugh... Hnn..." It wasn't just the sound of washing one's body. It was a secret, erotic moan, overflowing with pleasure.
Thump-thump, thump-thump. My heart began to race like crazy. My reason screamed, 'Go back immediately,' but this damn curiosity and my instinct as a man completely shackled my feet. Who on earth was the woman inside the bathhouse making those moans? I looked around, bewitched, and discovered a large wooden box sitting in the corner of the hallway. I crept over, picked it up, and placed it under the window next to the door. Swallowing hard, I stepped onto the box. And through the gap in the slightly opened lattice window, I carefully peered into the bathhouse.
A massive shock covered my vision.
"... ...!"
In the bathtub, thick with hot steam, the woman sitting naked without a single thread of clothing was none other than Kana. She had her eyes closed, clutching her voluptuous breasts with one hand. And the fingers of her other hand were exploring deep and secret places inside her thighs, intensely immersed in her own time of self-pleasure.
Squish, squish.
"Hnn... Ah..." I couldn't take my eyes off Kana, who was alone in the bathhouse where moonlight and steam mingled, and I continued to watch her, holding my breath.