Ducklings, Dumplings, and a New Birthday
“Uncle.”
“I'll call the craftsman right now... D-did I do something wrong? I did. I must have, Ryeon-ah.”
“Uncle. Have you seen the baby ducks? The ones at the pond in Wolyeongjae.”
“I think I have...”
“They're ugly. Small and black with spiky feathers sticking out everywhere.”
Danmok Hyeon-u listened blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter. Seeing his usually composed, mature niece whining about baby ducks being ugly filled his chest with an inexplicable warmth.
“No, no. That's not it. They're very cute.”
“No, Uncle. It's not a conceptual thing—it's actual ducks.”
Ryeon gesticulated wildly in the air, shaping the form of a duck with her hands as she ranted on, but Danmok Hyeon-u just kept laughing until his neck turned red. For a very long time.
“What do you think of this?”
Ryeon blinked at Danmok Hyeon-u, who had shown up at her door near dawn. Bloodshot veins marred the whites of his eyes, as if he'd pulled an all-nighter.
“Uncle? Are you okay?”
“I tried drawing some pictures.”
“What kind of—”
Ryeon took the papers from Danmok Hyeon-u, who had knelt down in front of her and unfurled them. Her eyes widened. Several rough sketches depicted birds perched by the water's edge, each stroke of the brush capturing their form in a single fluid motion. Their beaks were painted in vivid yellow pigment.
“Uncle...”
“What do you think?”
He looked at her as if to say, They're plenty cute and handsome, right?
Ryeon finally burst out laughing.
“Qinglian Water already has its own effects, so how about engraving it on the bottom of the bottles instead of the front?”
“What if we make the bottles with the duck design embossed right on the front?”
“...You like the drawings?”
“This one. The one with the big duck and the little duck.”
Ryeon pulled forward the paper from the back. All of Danmok Hyeon-u's drawings were impressive, but the last one was especially endearing—the plump body and the beaks facing each other.
“But first, let's ask Pavilion Master Seol.”
“...Rejing Pavilion's Seol Gwan-hui?”
“Yeah. He's the one in our family who knows best how to make and spend money.”
“...And if Pavilion Master Seol says no?”
“Then just on the bottom of the bottles...”
“Great! Perfect!”
Danmok Hyeon-u grinned ear to ear. And Seol Gwan-hui, after jumping in surprise at Ryeon and her uncle's sudden arrival, listened seriously to their drawings and plans before clapping his hands and nodding vigorously.
* * *
As the year turned and Ryeon's residence shifted to Wolyeongjae, she unpacked in an empty room, laying out a few outfits she hadn't moved yet. After some deliberation, she picked three or four.
Jang ssi, her wet nurse standing nearby, looked a bit crestfallen.
“They're still such pretty clothes...”
“I don't get cold much anyway. And they're a little small on me now.”
It was true, just as Ryeon said. Even in the depths of winter, she didn't feel the chill much. A cold wind might redden the tip of her nose, but that was it.
“But your body is still frail.”
“I have plenty of other coats.”
Ryeon smiled and waved her off. Jang ssi hesitated a few more times before gathering up the clothes.
Danmok Bi was scooping pond water from the small pond in front of Ryeon's quarters into a jar, insisting he'd help move it. Hwaryun, who had only been pretending to assist, spotted Jang ssi taking Ryeon's clothes and scampered over.
“What are you doing with those clothes?”
“Selling them to make dumplings. The Lantern Festival's coming up soon—I'm planning to hand them out on the streets.”
Hwaryun narrowed his eyes at Ryeon's words.
“No feast?”
“What feast?”
“Miss's birthday feast.”
This time, Ryeon widened her eyes. The family wasn't even preparing anything—how did Hwaryun know about her birthday?
“Ah! Hwaryun, you've eaten those dumplings before?”
The dumplings she meant were the ones the Danmok family made every year on her birthday and distributed to the streets. With their daughter ill, they couldn't hold a proper feast, so they simply prayed for her recovery by performing a good deed. The family wasn't wealthy enough for grand gestures, so it was just one dumpling each for the poor neighborhoods.
“Well... yeah.”
“Really?!”
Ryeon was genuinely shocked. She never would have imagined such a connection.
The young master of Machun-gyo ate dumplings from our house way back when?
“You hand them out saying 'eat up,' then act all surprised?”
Of course, if you grabbed people passing by the estate and asked, two or three out of ten would say they'd eaten them—but Ryeon had never actually met someone who had.
“Guess there really is such a thing as fate...”
“What fate over a single dumpling... Anyway, they were good.”
Hwaryun spoke quickly, avoiding Ryeon's gaze, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. Ryeon marveled for a moment before smiling softly.
“Then I guess it's thanks to you that I woke up safe and sound.”
“What are you talking about? It was just dumplings.”
“We gave them out praying I'd get better, and I did. Must be because you ate them so well.”
As she said this and patted Hwaryun's head, he scowled up at her.
“If someone comes around saying their good eating made you better and demands something in return, chase them off immediately. Got it?”
“...”
“For real.”
“Okay...”
“Anyway, shouldn't we have a birthday feast this year? Even if not, do we have money left over to throw at street dumplings?”
Hwaryun dodged her question with one of his own. Ryeon swallowed hard.
“...Plenty! The Qinglian Water deposit came in.”
And once sales started—even if not huge amounts—money would start flowing. If Gyeon Wiun's third son did well as planned, they might even see far more than expected. She'd played it cool in front of Gyeon Wiun, saying sales were sales and no big deal, but deep down, Ryeon hoped it would sell well. That's why she'd roped in a promising imperial exam graduate as a billboard.
But she wasn't banking on that alone. Qinglian Water was just the start.
From now on, I'll raise the family somehow, make money, do all sorts of things...
“So no birthday feast?”
“Well, uh...”
Ryeon scratched her cheek. Her mother Wijicheong had mentioned a birthday feast once, but Ryeon was the one who'd nixed it—suggesting they keep up the dumpling giveaway instead.
Honestly, they'd given out dumplings praying for her recovery, and now that she was better, cutting them off might make people think her sick days were preferable. Even if it was just one cheap dumpling once a year.
But it dawned on her now that for a young boy like Hwaryun, a free dumpling might pale next to an actual feast at the estate.
As Ryeon tried to soothe him on the matter, Hwaryun waved his hands frantically.
“I'm not saying I want a feast.”
“Let's have one for your birthday, Hwaryun!”
“No, I don't want a feast.”
“When's your birthday? I'll make a ton of money and throw you the grandest one. As long as you keep your promise.”
“What promise?”
“You promised to stay here, remember?”
“Oh, that.”
Yeah, yeah, Hwaryun muttered half-heartedly.
“So, when is your birthday?”
“Dunno.”
Ryeon was about to press him—don't joke, tell me—but clamped her mouth shut. Wijicheong had said Hwaryun was an orphan with no relatives. Not even greedy kin hounding the family's new servant boy. Of course he might not know his birthday.
When was Cheon Hwaryun's birthday again?
She racked her old memories, but nothing came up. Even if the Black Heaven Alliance, Machun-gyo, and Baekdo Maeng were tied under Murim Maeng, no way they'd throw a birthday bash for the young cult master right in Baekdo Maeng's heart.
Maybe they celebrated privately.
“Hmm, okay? Then let's make one up while we're at it.”
“Do whatever.”
“How about the full moon in the ninth month?”
Hwaryun nodded. He really doesn't care at all... Ryeon sighed inwardly and glanced at the window. Words floated up on the papered pane.
Ryeon pursed her lips briefly before forcing an awkward smile.
Hwaryun eyed her—why are you grinning like you ate sour grapes?—then clicked his tongue at Danmok Bi, who had finally smashed the jar while moving the pond water, and walked over.
It really had no birthday, but to accept it so readily...
Ryeon's gaze lingered on the final line.
Hwaryun's birthday had been set. Just as she decided.