Stork Lord and Phoenix Retreat
Yes, Lord Stork. This phoenix will now take its leave.
Even in the Joseon era, vacations existed. They gave short breaks not just during the hot summers or freezing winters, but also in busy spring and autumn farming seasons like this one.
“Aigoo! My lord! My lord, you're heading straight for the rice seedlings!”
“Huh?”
Even on a spring day, I'd worn myself out transplanting rice seedlings under the relentless sun, to the point where I couldn't even speak properly. Deciding to take a proper break now that my hands were idle, I straightened my back.
Crack!
“Ughhh...!”
A satisfying pop came from my stiff waist, bent over for so long. Not stopping there, I twisted side to side for a good stretch.
“How's that, my lord? Pretty worn out, eh?”
The uncle transplanting beside me looked up at me without straightening his own back.
I nodded as I bent down again. “This is exactly why we do rice transplanting.”
“Hahaha! Take it easy—no one's gonna complain if you grab a bundle and call it a day!”
“Nah, that's what the guy who actually gets flak for it says!”
“Who dares badmouth our lord? I'll smash him flat!”
“That guy over there.”
I pointed with my chin toward the ridge while transplanting. There stood the second young master of the Kim Jin-sa household—the landowner and my rich half-brother.
“Uh, th-that...!”
“But don't touch that bastard.”
I shook my head at the uncle rolling his eyes in panic, then kept transplanting to spare his pride. “I've got him marked for when I pass the military exam and can beat his ass. You handle the others.”
“Others...?”
“Don't know yet. I'll let you know when one shows up.”
“Just say the word anytime!”
Only after hearing there were none did laughter creep into the uncle's voice. For the record, with my head down transplanting, I had no idea what his face looked like.
“Hngh, whew...”
I finished planting the bundle in my hand and straightened up again. Taking a moment to rest, I looked around.
Besides those leasing fields from Kim Jin-sa, pretty much everyone from Hwacheok Village—except the babies—had come out for transplanting. As you can see, rice transplanting wasn't just for rice farmers; it was a whole village event where everyone pitched in.
But I hadn't come out just because I lived in the village. It was because all the kids worth playing with had gone transplanting, leaving me bored out of my mind alone.
“Oh? Hang on. I'll grab some more seedling mats.”
“No need, my lord! I'll go!”
“It's fine. I'll get 'em.”
I looked for the seedling mats to keep transplanting but couldn't find any. Realizing I'd used them up, I headed to the ridge for more.
“My lord!”
Eori, holding the line to keep the seedlings straight, waved vigorously. She couldn't run over like usual because of the line.
“Hey. Eori.”
“My lord. You alright? Want me to hold this for you?”
“Nah. Not here to rest. Just grabbing seedling mats.”
At first, the Hwacheok villagers hadn't been thrilled about me joining the transplanting. Even unofficially, working alongside the landowner's son felt awkward. But they'd changed their minds after seeing my usual attitude and behavior.
“The mats are over there, my lord!”
Since I was set on helping, they didn't try to stop me. “Now you're just ordering your lord around like a tenant.”
“N-no, my lord! I just saw you looking for the mats...”
“Hey, Eori.”
I gazed intently at her flustered, adorable face. She turned away, her tanned cheeks flushing.
“Wh-what is it, my lord?”
“Nothing, Eori. You've got something on your face.”
“Wh-what?”
“Cutie.”
“!”
“Kidding. Mud. Here, look.”
“Eee...”
Her emotions plain as day, Eori turned back toward me. Pretending to wipe her cheek, I smeared mud on it instead.
“Now you've got real mud.”
“Ah! My lord! That's too much!”
“Too much is how pretty you are. Keep at it.”
“Yes, my lord. Huh? My lord?”
She called after me, finally catching what I'd said. But I didn't answer, just walked toward the seedling mats.
“...Huh.”
“What's that? Such insolent eyes?”
The mats were right next to that bastard Hui-un. Not wanting to chat, I just bowed my head slightly and reached for them.
“Hah! What a sight!”
Until the bastard opened his mouth.
“Finally a look that suits a wretch like you!”
Not a compliment, obviously. No shade but passing clouds, sweat pouring down, covered head to toe in mud from trudging the paddy.
“Thank you, young master.”
So I bowed toward him. “Even in the muck, a jewel still sparkles.”
“Hah! Aren't you ashamed? Filthy farmhand, and you're supposed to have yangban blood!”
“Not really ashamed. If anything, honored.”
“What?”
“Over half of Joseon's people are farmers. Without them, no one eats—not even His Majesty. Wait, are you insulting His Majesty by saying even the king doesn't farm?”
“N-no lies! How could His Majesty farm?!”
Pfft, what? In dramas and webnovels, kings personally oversaw farming. Couldn't bring up modern stuff, so I just stayed quiet.
Then curiosity struck. “So, what's your business here?”
Hui-un's gang got private tutoring from Kim Jin-sa's hired teacher, not the village school. No vacation for rich kids during transplanting.
“C-checking if you're slacking! Satisfied?!”
“That's the tenant manager's job.”
“Shut it! What do you know of this stork's profound intent?!”
Just slacking off, huh? Figured. He was alone, no gang.
“Now scram and get back to work! No slacking!”
For once, the bastard was right. I picked up a mat like planned and bowed. “Yes, Lord Stork. This phoenix will now take its leave.”
“Mm, fine. Wait, how are you the phoenix?!”
“Huh? I just want to be the phoenix. Can't I?”
“No! Obviously not!”
Even following orders got me grief. I played along with his nitpicking bullshit, just a bit.
“Got it. Then I'll be the vermilion bird.”
“Not that either! You're, uh, a sparrow! Be a sparrow!”
“Aw, sparrow's too cute. Give me something cooler. How about hwajilgoji?”
“Hwajilgoji? What bird is that?”
“Oh yeah. Super rare. No one's seen it, but everyone knows the name. Well, tons haven't even heard of it.”
“Hmm. Hwajilgoji. Hwajilgoji...”
This time he muttered like he liked it. Then he nodded big and pointed to his chest. “I'll be the hwajilgoji! You be the stork!”
“But I want to be hwajilgoji?”
“No! It's mine! Settle for stork!”
Hateful face or not, he was still a kid. In the end, I gave him hwajilgoji and took stork.
“But why are you helping them?”
As I turned back to the paddy, he stopped me again. This time, genuine curiosity, no mocking.
“What, do they pay you or something?”
“Yeah. These folks.”
“These folks?”
He scowled like it made no sense.
“What do they give you?”
“Themselves.”
Obviously, I wasn't transplanting just because I was bored. No one sweats buckets for fun. Helping was a simple deal: I'll give you my heart, you give me yours.
They looked like diligent villagers now, but a decade-plus ago, Hwacheok folk were nomads roaming the country, burning mountains. Exclusive types—they saw everyone as us or enemy.
When we first moved to Hwacheok Village, no one spoke to us outcasts. Not even when Mom bravely shared food.
But over time, I befriended the kids, Mom chatted with locals. Small exchanges grew to helping transplant and sharing meals.
“...”
“...”
“...”
Even now, same deal. They seemed focused on transplanting, but they were side-eyeing my chat with the bastard.
...Not pressuring me to hurry with the mats, right? Nah.
“I'll be off now, Lord Hwajilgoji.”
Any longer slacking, even I'd get chewed out. Luckily, as I carried the mats back, the bastard didn't call out—just stood thinking alone.
Whatever.
“Uncle! Mats here!”
“Aigoo! Thanks, my lord! I could've gone...”
“Why didn't you? That guy kept yapping and—huh?”
I set the mats down mid-ramble and checked my calf. Pants rolled to the knee, something black and shiny wriggled on it.
“...Lord Hwajilgoji!”
Sudden idea—I called to the bastard. He hadn't left the ridge, despite knowing he'd get hell for dawdling.
“Huh? What?”
“First harvest from this paddy! Wanna taste?”
“What? Already?”
Even from afar, I saw his panicked grimace.
Limping so it wouldn't fall off, I approached and revealed the prize.
“Leech grown right here in the field! Come try it!”
“You're insane?!”
“How can you say that? From Kim Jin-sa's field—you gotta eat it, young master! Here! Fresh as can be!”
“No! Eat it yourself!”
“How could I touch it before my lord? Eat up!”
“No! Scram! I won't!”
By the time I reached the ridge, he was already bolting away.