The Gift - 9
Danghye — traditional flower shoes.
Much as a bachelor scraping by on his own lights up at the gift of cooking oil, seasonings, and a three-can set of Spam, the most beloved present in the Joseon era was said to be a fine pair of shoes.
They were a necessity with a hefty price tag, after all — a practical gift on every count.
And unlike the modern superstition about gifting shoes, in this era a pair of shoes carried a wish of its own: that, like setting out on the road in brand-new footwear, whatever the wearer undertook would go well.
It carried one other meaning besides, but there was no need to spell that one out just yet.
"A gift... for me?"
Lim Hayeon's eyes had gone wide, darting between me and the shoes. I smiled and spoke.
"They're called danghye — flower shoes, all the rage back in Joseon. Leather and silk, the kind of thing well-to-do ladies wear."
Expensive ones, at that. The sort of shoes only the daughters of noble houses wore.
"Where in the world did you get shoes from Joseon?"
"As it happens, we have a skilled shoemaker among the Hometown Association folk. I asked him to make a pair with special care, as a gift for you, Miss Hayeon. Well? What do you think?"
Flower shoes made with a master craftsman's devotion. Even to my eye, the workmanship was superb, and the patterns were quite lovely for a woman's shoe.
"Yes... they're beautiful."
Lim Hayeon held the shoes up with a look of wonder, examining every stitch, unable to close her mouth.
She liked them, plainly. Good.
The gift offensive had opened the door to her heart. Now it was time to hand my own heart across the threshold.
"I'm sorry for working you so hard, time after time."
I said it in a thoughtful voice, then fell silent as though apology had stolen my words, and simply looked at her.
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
"I can't even see to your pay properly, and there you were, walking about in shoes worn clean through. It weighed on me."
Those worn-through shoes I'd spied on her feet the day she came strolling along the top of the fence.
Seeing them had made me realize all over again just how hard she'd been working in Wuhan, and it set my thoughts churning.
I could understand now, too, why the sight of that brush had left her speechless. There she was, breaking her back with work, while I accepted presents and traipsed about town — of course that would sting. So I tracked down a craftsman with skillful hands and prepared a gift with every ounce of care I had.
"You only struggle because of me. There's no need to make such a fuss over it."
"It isn't your affairs that put me through hardship, Miss Hayeon — it's our work. We struggle through it together."
Daseogak was riding on this too, after all. Our little community of shared fate. Naturally we had to work hard side by side.
I held her gaze with an expression of boundless earnestness.
Had my meaning gotten through? Lips pressed into a thin line, Lim Hayeon's eyes trembled.
"..."
"People who toil ought to look after one another, no? Take them."
"Ngh... you really are..."
As if she might lose to her own feelings, Lim Hayeon turned her head away, struck speechless.
Had I overdone the mood?
"Try them on. I had them made to your exact measurements, but you never know."
"...Mm."
Lim Hayeon turned the shoes over and over in her hands, then shot me a sidelong glance and let out a strange little hum through her nose.
Why wasn't she putting them on?
"Is something not to your liking?"
It couldn't be the fit, could it?
When I asked with a bewildered face, Lim Hayeon thrust the shoes out toward me.
"Put them on me."
"Me?"
"Th-the person who bought them can be the one to put them on, can't he?"
Why was she shouting?
Head bowed, her face oddly flushed, Lim Hayeon pressed the shoes against my chest.
She wanted me to put them on her?
Having received the gift anyway, did she want to be waited on like some rich family's daughter?
"Then give me your foot."
Might as well throw in the full service.
Still with her head turned away, Lim Hayeon extended her leg toward me.
It was a touch embarrassing, though. In the old days in China, for a woman to bare her leg to a man meant she saw him as a prospective husband.
That custom had been born of the horrific practice of foot-binding, which never existed in this world — but even so, my cheeks warmed.
To slip off her worn old shoes, I carefully brought my fingers to the hollow where her ankle bone dipped.
"Hah..."
Letting out strange little sounds only made it more awkward.
And now I couldn't help noticing. My gaze drifted to her leg despite myself.
A snow-white leg laced with firm, springy muscle, overflowing with healthy beauty. Was this what an Olympic track star's legs looked like?
Before I knew it, I swallowed, my mouth dry. Honestly — what was getting into me?
Had I tugged the shoe off too hastily?
Focus on the shoe. The sock came peeling away with it. I wouldn't say I had any particular tastes, but there they were — toes a man might want to wrap his hand around.
And from those beautiful feet drifted a faintly... musky...
"Your feet smell..."
"What did you just say!"
The kick came instantly.
"Waaah!"
We were on a rooftop!
For one instant my body floated free — the sensation of gravity simply vanishing.
Surely I wasn't about to fall from atop the pavilion? I'd never mastered air-walking, the art of striding across the open sky. Nor had I learned the Eight Great Cloud Dragon Forms, the technique for turning midair.
No prophetic dream had come to me, no flash of enlightenment would carry me out of this — so why was I staring down yet another crisis?
"Are you all right?!"
Thankfully, Lim Hayeon shot to her feet and seized my hand.
"Hahk!"
Long time no see, gravity. We'd been parted all of one second, and still I found myself missing you.
I raised my head, still stunned, to find Lim Hayeon glaring at me, her brows knotted tight.
"I can't believe you! What kind of man tells a woman her feet stink?!"
"Well... my apologies."
"A-and they don't even smell that bad!"
Hurriedly swapping into the flower shoes, Lim Hayeon shouted at me, her face redder than I'd ever seen it.
A misunderstanding, truly. Fine — the scent that had crept up on me did make me wrinkle my nose for a moment. But still.
"I only meant — you've been running around all day, so naturally there's a scent. Nothing bad, mind you. How should I put it... a little musky, but honestly quite pleasant to the—"
Even I could tell there was no salvaging this.
"They. Don't. Smell."
Piling strange excuse upon stranger excuse wasn't going to win this.
"You're right. No smell at all."
My nose, as it happens, is broken. Clearly the Shadowless Divine Thief knows best.
"Haah. How do you always have such a gift for ruining a perfectly good moment!"
Lim Hayeon scolded me, as though something about it genuinely rankled.
No, in fairness, the mood just before had been embarrassing. I'd tensed up without meaning to — what could a man do? I swallowed the words I couldn't bring myself to say and looked down at Lim Hayeon's feet, now fully shod.
"Haha. The flower shoes suit you."
Beautiful feet, beautiful shoes. Seen head to toe, or feet alone — everything matched.
"...They're wonderfully comfortable, too."
Perhaps unwilling to trade more barbs, Lim Hayeon lifted one foot daintily and gazed at the shoe.
"The craftsman who made them goes by the surname Na, it seems. A quality lining, and in the insoles he packed something called ae-eo — air, would you believe — so they'd stay comfortable on long walks."
Leave it to Joseon, land of enlightened kings who watched over even their humblest subjects — its footwear ran ahead of the age, scientifically speaking.
"They must have cost a fortune. I'd better take good care of them."
"If they wear out, I'll simply gift you another pair. Say the word whenever you like."
"...L-let's head down now."
Bashful at being seen in her gift straight away, perhaps. With a somewhat sheepish look, Lim Hayeon made ready to climb down from the pavilion.
"Sounds good. Although..."
"Yes?"
"You'll have to let go of my hand if you mean to get down, won't you?"
The hand of Lim Hayeon — who had seized mine in the first place — showed no intention whatsoever of letting go.
The danger had passed. Why was she still holding on?
"Ah... that is! Going down is harder than climbing up. I'll hold on to you, so we'll go down together."
"I've reached the first stage of the Shadowless Body Art. I should be fine."
"It's dan-dangerous, I tell you! Just follow me down."
Looking down from this height was dizzying, I'll admit.
Taking Lim Hayeon's hand, I made it safely down from the tall pavilion and set off for our lodgings.
Somehow, not once on the whole walk to the inn did she think to let go of my hand — but on a day this fine, I could afford to overlook that much.
"Chef An? You haven't called it a night yet?"
Deep into the night before anyone knew it, Lim Hayeon entered the inn alongside Kang Yunho and called out to Chef An, who was resting in a corner.
"We've had so many late-night customers lately, the youngsters downstairs can't keep up."
"Isn't that working far too late? You ought to go in and get some rest."
Kang Yunho added his own worried words to the weary-faced Chef An.
"Leaving the late-night rush to the youngsters doesn't sit easy with me, I'm afraid. Tomorrow's my day off, so it's fine. That said..."
Chef An put on a sly, knowing grin and looked at the one thing about the pair that was different from usual.
"Hmm?"
"Sesame seeds spilling all over the floor, I see."
Their hands, clasped tight. Even Chef An, who had watched the two of them from their earliest days in Wuhan, had never once witnessed such a sight.
"Ah—!"
"Ah..."
Twin sounds of odd regret slipped out, and in the same breath their intertwined fingers came apart.
"Oh, and I have a few things I'd like to discuss with our sister-in-law here."
"I'll turn in first, then. Sleep well."
"G-go on in."
After one awkward exchange of glances with Lim Hayeon, Kang Yunho promptly beat a retreat to his own room.
Lim Hayeon tucked the hand that had held Kang Yunho's only moments before behind her back, watching him in silence until he was gone from sight.
"So the two of you finally made up? The Hoeju kept asking after it — and it seems he finally got around to gifting you those shoes."
"Yes. You even know about that? So — what was it you wanted to discuss?"
"It's been hard on you lately, hasn't it?"
Chef An offered the words with the look of a man who already knew everything.
"Not at all. You're the one who's had it hard, Chef An."
"Not that — I mean the matter of the Hoeju's matchmaking meeting."
The matchmaking meeting with the youngest daughter of the Zhuge Clan. The inn's staff minded their tongues whenever Lim Hayeon was within earshot, but of late it was the hottest topic of all.
"Ah..."
"Now, when a man's out and about in the world, clutching at him too tightly only does harm. Makes him want to roam all the more, you see?"
The odd cold war between Kang Yunho and Lim Hayeon.
There wasn't a soul at the inn who hadn't heard the news. Chef An had meant to give each of them a word of advice, but having just witnessed their reconciliation, only the woman who still needed it remained before him.
"..."
"Even if you simply do your own work well, right there where his eyes can find you, his conscience will prick him and bring him back to you."
"You really think so?"
A strange doubt hung on Lim Hayeon's voice.
"Do you know what meanings a gift of shoes carries back in Joseon?"
With the air of a man who understood it all, Chef An glanced at Lim Hayeon's shoes, then looked upon her face, which could barely conceal its worry.
"There's a special meaning?"
"There's the wish that the work you've been pouring yourself into will go well..."
"And?"
"And the other one... means that you are someone he longs to see, at any hour, always."
Eyes crinkling into a smile, Chef An looked down at the beautiful flower shoes.
"Ah..."
Lim Hayeon's worried expression soon melted into a faint blush.
"Would our diligent Hoeju ever cast aside a wise mother and good wife? Don't wear your heart too openly — just keep to the places his eyes can reach. Then he'll never, ever be able to leave."
A few of the staff muttered that the Zhuge Clan girl might be the better match, but Chef An was firmly, unshakably on Lim Hayeon's side.
"Where his eyes can reach... where his eyes can reach..."
Had some realization finally dawned on her? With a satisfied look, Chef An spoke his parting words.
"That's all I had to say. Off to bed with you now."
"Thank you. I-I'll turn in, then."
Lim Hayeon bowed to Chef An and hurried toward her room with quick little steps.
As if she were carrying something precious — gazing shyly down at the hand that, until moments ago, had been holding someone.
The gift offensive had been a success.
She'll probably even forget how I stared holes through her backside the other day, right?
What can I do when my eyes have a will of their own? Still — gratitude for her hard work, with a dash of apology folded in, made for a fine gift. I was satisfied.
"Where are you off to this early in the morning?"
The moment I finished my preparations and stepped out of the office, Lim Hayeon came up to me wearing a strangely buoyant expression.
"I mean to stop by the Seocheon Escort Agency to have the books for the branch fetched from Yichang. There are letters to send as well, and the escorted goods to discuss."
"Ah..."
"Once the books arrive, we should finally be able to open the branch."
If we moved briskly, opening day was only a few days off. And that would bring me one long stride closer to passing the Mangeum Lord's trial and the Simun's test.
The trouble was, running a Daseogak branch on top of everything else would mean entrusting Lim Hayeon with an even greater share of the delivery business.
With matters like this, it was best to drop a hint in advance.
I studied Lim Hayeon's face, about to bring up my schedule for the days ahead.
What was the matter?
Lim Hayeon's lips worked as though she had something to say, then — as if she had finally made up her mind — she spoke.
"I'll help with that, too."
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"Running the Daseogak branch. Count me in on it."