Misunderstanding
Though she had fretted inwardly over how Seomun Hwi might react, there was no taking it back now.
Clutching her trembling heart, Cheongwol carefully stepped into the room.
"..."
"..."
If it looked strange, he could say so. If it was decent enough, he could say it was fine—anything at all would do.
As she tugged at her collar and watched him carefully for a reaction, Seomun Hwi’s face hardened and he abruptly turned his head away.
An unmistakable disappointment spread across Cheongwol’s face.
So it really is disgusting to see someone who used to be a man wearing clothes like these?
I should have refused to put them on from the very beginning.
She hadn’t particularly expected a positive reaction, but there was no need for him to be this cold about it.
Feeling tears prick at her eyes, she bit hard on her lower lip and stared down at her toes.
Sensing the awkward atmosphere between the two, Mo Wonpyeong hurriedly began praising Cheongwol in Seomun Hwi’s place.
"You are far more beautiful than I had imagined. The ornaments finally seem to have found their true owner. Wouldn’t you agree, Young Master?"
He tried to draw Seomun Hwi into the conversation with a subtle glance, but the young man still refused to look at Cheongwol.
"...Thank you so much. But these seem far too extravagant for me. I’ll return them."
When Cheongwol offered a dejected smile and moved to take off the ornaments, Mo Wonpyeong waved his hands dismissively.
"What are you saying? Let me say it again—they suit you wonderfully. I can stake my honor on it, humble as it may be."
"But..."
"Even if you return them, I couldn’t sell them again anyway. Please, take them for my sake if nothing else."
Desperate to salvage the situation, Mo Wonpyeong even invented excuses, sweating profusely.
Yet his words about how well the clothes and ornaments suited Cheongwol were sincere.
In his work with the merchant guild, he had traveled all across the Central Plains and seen more than a few beauties. He had seen the refined daughters of the renowned Zhuge Clan, and the female disciples of the Mount Hua Sect said to be lovelier than blooming plum blossoms. There were also the daughters of the Tang Clan, often compared to poisonous flowers, and the daughter of the Shandong Ak Clan—somewhat eccentric, yet whose beauty ranked among the finest in the entire Central Plains.
Every one of them was a beauty of such caliber that calling them exceptional would be an understatement. But if he had to utter the words “a beauty who could topple a kingdom,” only Cheongwol standing before him truly deserved them.
And yet, with such a beauty right in front of him, why was the Young Master of the Seomun Clan acting so indifferent?
Frustrated, he glanced over—and something he had missed earlier caught his eye.
Just barely visible through the hair: the tips of ears flushed red. With half his face covered by his hand, Mo Wonpyeong hadn’t noticed before, but the look in those eyes was not coldness—it was flustered embarrassment.
Only then did he understand.
The Young Master of the Seomun Clan. The finest dragon among the rising talents. Strip away all those grand titles, and what remained was simply a man unaccustomed to women.
...He’s a complete greenhorn when it comes to anything but martial arts.
Having seen so many young masters from powerful families who lived dissolute lives, Seomun Hwi’s inability to even meet Cheongwol’s eyes out of sheer shyness felt almost alien to him.
There was only one way to resolve this situation.
"Guild Leader! Everything is ready!"
The timing was perfect, and the excuse sufficient.
"Ah, look at that. We’ve talked so long that it’s nearly time to depart."
Mo Wonpyeong laughed heartily and quickly clasped his fists toward the two of them.
"I would like to ease the regret of not being able to share a meal with you, even a little. I’ve already paid for a meal at the restaurant just ahead, so please, the two of you enjoy it together."
The food at the restaurant was flawless, yet the two of them exchanged not a single word throughout the meal.
Seomun Hwi forced himself to look away whenever his gaze drifted, putting on an unnecessarily stern face. Cheongwol, as he continued to say nothing, swallowed her disappointment and now suppressed her anger.
In an atmosphere thick enough to give them indigestion, they finished their meal and stepped out of the restaurant.
At this point, it was Seomun Hwi who grew anxious rather than Cheongwol.
...Is she angry?
In truth, there had been signs of it ever since they parted from Mo Wonpyeong. But he had been so focused on not looking pathetic that his usual perceptiveness had failed him.
The problem was why Cheongwol was angry.
"Cheongwol."
Even when he called, she did not turn around.
"Cheongwol."
He called again, but still she pretended not to hear.
"...Cheongwol."
Only when he called out almost pleadingly did she stop walking.
Just as Seomun Hwi’s hand was about to touch her shoulder, a slightly cracked voice reached him first.
"...If you found it so repulsive, you should have just told me not to wear it from the start."
What on earth was this about?
"Did you really have to trample all over my pride like that? Or was this what you intended all along when you told me to try it on?"
He sensed something had gone terribly wrong, but the words wouldn’t come.
"..."
"I know. I know how disgusting it must look—someone who used to be a man wearing clothes like these and acting this way. But still..."
Cheongwol turned her head slightly to look at Seomun Hwi. There were no tears in her eyes, yet the resignation there was somehow worse.
"...You didn’t have to go this far."
After Cheongwol left first, Seomun Hwi stood rooted in place for a long while, like a stone statue waiting for her husband.
It was entirely his own fault; there was no one else to blame.
She had become a woman, yet her mind remained that of a man, and she had acted as if nothing was amiss—so he had assumed that was truly the case. But how could any person be like that?
Even ordinary movements felt unnatural in this body that was no longer the same. Aside from the few who knew her former self, everyone she met treated her as a woman, not a man. A transformed body and a mind still stuck in the past. Feeling unease amid that dissonance was only natural.
And yet, even so, she had mustered great courage to come wearing women’s clothes. But the very friend who had told her to try them on had only put on a stern face—he could only imagine the sense of betrayal Cheongwol must have felt.
"..."
Seomun Hwi clenched his fists tightly and let out a long sigh.
This mess had been caused by his own stupidity, so he would have to take responsibility himself.
Having steeled his resolve, Seomun Hwi’s steps turned toward the Tang Clan.
Should she just tear it up?
Or take it outside and burn it?
Of course, those were only thoughts; she couldn’t do that to something received out of goodwill. So Cheongwol simply stared blankly at the clothes lying on the bed.
In truth, she hadn’t sincerely believed Seomun Hwi had acted that way to mock her. But whatever the reason, all that remained was a stinging wound in her chest.
...Who am I to blame? I was the fool for thinking he would understand.
Who in this world would readily accept a monster with a woman’s body and a man’s mind? Even she herself had thought that way, which was why she had called Seomun Hwi to her room so that Ak Seo-a wouldn’t discover the truth.
"..."
She had known Seomun Hwi would be no different, yet she hadn’t been prepared for it. Her chest ached again, and her eyes grew red.
I should have just hidden my gender from Hwi from the beginning too.
She had told him the truth because denying the man she had been felt wrong somehow—yet if she had known it would come to this, she would rather have done that. Belated regret washed over her.
The only silver lining was that Ak Seo-a, who had left early that morning, had not yet returned. Not wanting to show her pathetic state when she came back, Cheongwol was about to force herself under the covers and try to sleep when she heard the door carefully open.
"Cheongwol. I have something to say."
Was that man not content with cornering her, now denying her even a moment to compose herself?
Cheongwol clutched the blanket tightly and gave no reply. Just hearing his voice was enough to make the emotions she had suppressed begin to surge back up. If she faced him, she would crumble like a cracked dam—uselessly, completely. And that sight would be thoroughly unseemly.
"..."
Seeing that Cheongwol had no intention of coming out from under the covers, Seomun Hwi carefully approached and sat beside her, just as he had the day before.
It was clearly the same situation as yesterday, yet the emotions the two of them felt were vastly different. Excitement had turned to shame and embarrassment. Joy had become disappointment and regret. To have made such a mess of things in a single day was almost a talent in itself.
Thinking that, Seomun Hwi looked up at the ceiling. At the very least, he ought to muster as much courage as Cheongwol had shown.
"...I’m sorry."
After apologizing first, Seomun Hwi spoke the words he had buried deep in his heart.
"When you came in wearing those clothes, you were so beautiful that I couldn’t find the words. It was hard even to look at you properly."