The narrow road opened into a small clearing lit by strings of paper lanterns swaying in the night breeze. The scent of woodsmoke and roasted meat mingled with the sweet, heady smell of flowers scattered along the dirt path.
Daon and Eunjae stepped into the edge of the village just as the sound of laughter and music grew louder. In the center, people in colorful traditional clothes spun and clapped in rhythm a wedding celebration, the kind that seemed untouched by time.
A young woman with flushed cheeks from dancing spotted them and hurried over. "Strangers! Welcome, welcome!" she said in a cheerful voice, as if two unfamiliar men wandering in at night was the most natural thing in the world.
Daon cleared his throat. "We… had an accident with our car. Could we stay here for the night?"
Her smile widened. "Of course! Tonight is a wedding all are welcome. Eat, drink, dance. You can sleep in the guest house by the well when the music ends."
Eunjae's mouth curved into a lazy grin. "See? I told you civilization existed."
Daon shot him a look but didn't argue.
The villagers didn't ask where they came from, didn't care about names or stories. They simply pulled the two of them toward the center where the dance was happening. The bride and groom barely older than teenagers smiled shyly at them, and someone thrust a cup of warm rice wine into Daon's hand.
Music swelled, drums beating faster, feet stomping in rhythm. Lantern light flickered against smiling faces. For a moment, it felt unreal, like they had stepped into another world.
Eunjae didn't hesitate he joined the circle of dancers, his energy bright and teasing as he called to Daon, "Come on! Or are you afraid you'll have fun?"
The music shifted into a faster beat, and a small group of young men from the village stepped forward, their grins mischievous. They began a playful, competitive dance, showing off footwork and spins as the crowd clapped in rhythm.
Eunjae's smirk was instant. "Oh? A challenge?" Without waiting for permission, he jumped in, moving with smooth confidence. But instead of copying the traditional steps, he slipped into his own club style fluid hip rolls, sharp turns, and just enough teasing movement to make every onlooker gasp.
A few of the younger women covered their mouths, eyes wide, while others unabashedly stared, their faces pink. Even some of the men looked impressed, shaking their heads with grins.
Daon, however, felt heat rise to his cheeks for a very different reason. He took a step back, not wanting to be anywhere near the attention Eunjae was drawing. He couldn't watch the way Eunjae was swaying his hips, how easily he had the entire crowd eating out of his hand.
By the time the song ended, Eunjae was laughing with the villagers like they'd been friends for years, cups of rice wine being pressed into his hands. The circle loosened, and people started dancing in pairs again, the atmosphere turning even warmer.
Daon just sighed, standing off to the side. That was when an elder woman in a deep indigo hanbok approached him, eyes sharp despite her wrinkled smile.
"What's your relationship with him?" she asked, tilting her chin toward Eunjae.
Daon opened his mouth, hesitated..
"He's my husband," Eunjae's voice cut in smoothly from behind, startling him. Eunjae stepped forward and casually draped an arm over Daon's shoulders, leaning in with a pout. "He's just shy. We just got married."
The elder's eyes lit up. "A newlywed! How wonderful."
"Mmm, wonderful," Eunjae said dramatically, before turning the knife. "But our wedding wasn't fun like this one. It was so boring no traditions, no dancing. Nothing like what you have here. He know nothing about how to keep his husband happy"
The elder woman gasped as if she'd just heard of a crime. She turned to Daon with genuine horror. "You poor boy! No wonder your husband feels neglected. Listen to me.." She gripped Daon's hands with surprising strength. "Let me tell you how to keep him happy. Always feed him first, always smile when he looks at you, and never let him go to bed upset. And in the nights…" She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "…you must make him feel like he is the only man alive."
Daon's ears burned crimson. "That's..."
The elder smacked his arm lightly. "No excuses! Men are like the moon... if you ignore them, they vanish into darkness."
Eunjae grinned, enjoying every second of Daon's embarrassment. "See, Daon? The wise woman knows best."
MEANWHILE..
The night air was crisp, carrying the soft rustle of leaves overhead as Taemin walked slowly behind the wheelchair, his hands steady on the handles. Mrs. Park sat comfortably, her blanket tucked around her legs, while Juwon strolled beside them with a quiet smile. The faint glow from the restaurant windows had faded, leaving the park bathed in warm lamplight.
They'd been talking about light things the weather, the way the restaurant's dessert had been too sweet, the clumsy waiter who almost tripped. Mrs. Park's laughter was warm, the kind that seemed to ease every wall Taemin had unknowingly kept around himself.
At one point, she glanced up at him. "You don't have to call me ma'am, you know. You can call me… Mother."
Taemin froze for a second, his grip tightening slightly on the wheelchair handles. "Mother…?" he repeated, the word foreign on his tongue.
She nodded gently, encouraging. "Yes. If you want to."
He hesitated, his voice soft. "…Mother."
Something in his chest cracked the moment the word left his lips. A tear slid down his cheek before he could stop it.
Mrs. Park twisted slightly to look at him, her brow furrowing. "What is it, dear?"
His voice was unsteady, almost a whisper. "… I've never had a mother's love. I don't even remember when was the last time i called someone mother."
Her eyes shimmered as she reached for his hand, pulling him closer until she could wipe his cheek with her thumb. "Then from today, you do. Call me mother as much as you like."
That was it the last thread holding him together broke. Taemin dropped to his knees beside the chair, pressing his forehead against her hand as tears spilled freely.
Behind them, Juwon stood silent, his own vision blurring. He had never seen Taemin like this, so raw, so unguarded. Seeing the two people he loved most his mother and his Taemin bonding like this sent a rush of warmth and ache through his chest.
He wiped at his own tears, smiling through them, and thought to himself, This… this is how it should be.
The night air outside the restaurant was cool and laced with the faint scent of the city's evening rain.
Taemin stood beside Juwon's car, hands in his pockets, offering a polite smile toward Mrs. Park. "It was nice meeting you tonight, m..mother. I'll be heading home now."
Mrs. Park gave a gracious nod from her wheelchair. "take care, Taemin."
He gave Juwon a quick glance something warm passing between them before walking toward his own car.
Once Taemin's taillights disappeared into the traffic, Juwon slid into the driver's seat next to his mother. He was still smiling, practically glowing, replaying the dinner in his mind. "I'm glad you liked him," he said softly.
Mrs. Park turned her head, watching him closely. "Juwon…" Her tone was calm but probing. "Have you told your father?"
Juwon blinked. "Told him… what?"
Her gaze sharpened ever so slightly. "About loving a man."
The question hit him like a splash of icy water. His hands tightened on the steering wheel before he could stop himself. "Wait...what?" His voice cracked just slightly.
Mrs. Park tilted her head, studying him with quiet certainty. "I know, Juwon. You didn't tell me you are lovers, but a mother can see when her son's eyes follow someone like that. When he smiles differently. Your father… he is not like me. He will not understand so easily."
Juwon swallowed hard, his earlier joy dampened by a creeping unease. He'd been so careful, so sure they'd hidden things well. The idea of his father finding out and how he'd react made his chest tighten.
Mrs. Park's hand rested lightly on his arm. "Think about it, Juwon. Decide how you want him to know… before someone else tells him for you."
The car felt heavier, as if her words had turned the air into stone.
The night air clung to Daon's skin, still warm from the village's lantern-lit festivities. Eunjae's head lolled against his shoulder, hair brushing Daon's jaw as he adjusted his grip. He smelled faintly of rice wine and smoke from the bonfire. By the time they reached the guest house, Daon's arms were aching, but he didn't let go until he'd lowered Eunjae onto the narrow bed.
The mattress dipped under Eunjae's weight, the space so small that Daon's knees brushed the frame when he leaned over. Eunjae shifted, mumbling something incoherent, lips curling into a lazy smile that made Daon's pulse trip.
He stood there longer than he should have, watching the rise and fall of Eunjae's chest. He had never slept beside anyone before and now, of all people, it had to be the man the monk swore was his fated match.
Daon let out a low sigh and sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders stiff. The distance between them was barely the width of a hand. He could feel the heat radiating from Eunjae's body, the faint brush of his knee against Daon's leg every time Eunjae shifted.
Eunjae's eyes cracked open hazy, half-lidded and lingered on Daon's face.
"You're… warm," he slurred, the corners of his mouth curling.
Daon swallowed hard, looking away. "Go to sleep."
Eunjae hummed, but didn't move away. Instead, his fingers brushed against Daon's hand in a fleeting, drunken touch that sent a jolt straight through him.
The silence stretched. The well outside creaked in the wind. Inside, Daon lay back stiffly, every inch of him aware of the man breathing beside him, of the curse that tethered them, and of the way his own heartbeat refused to slow.
Daon's chest tightened with every beat of his heart, the echo loud in his ears. It wasn't because it was Eunjae, he told himself it was the sheer strangeness of it all. He had lived like a machine for as long as he could remember, every day dictated by his father's orders, every movement calculated, every choice safe and cold.
He had never let anyone close. No relationships. No warmth. No one to share a bed with.
And now… this.
The air between them felt too heavy, pressing against his ribs. He pushed himself upright, desperate for space, for a moment to breathe....
A wet, ugly sound broke the quiet.
Daon froze. Eunjae's head rolled to the side, his body jerking as he retched, wine and half-digested food spilling down the front of his shirt.
For a moment, Daon didn't move. His mind went utterly blank. The faint sweet-and-sour stench hit him, snapping him out of his stillness.
"...Eunjae," he muttered under his breath, half in disbelief, half in frustration.
Daon exhaled through his nose, forcing down the instinct to recoil. He'd never done this before never had to care for someone like this. But for some reason, the thought of leaving Eunjae like this didn't even cross his mind.
With a resigned shake of his head, he reached for the towel folded at the foot of the bed.
Daon wrung the towel in his hands, the fabric dripping cool water. "Stay still," he muttered, leaning in to wipe Eunjae's chin.
Eunjae didn't listen. Instead, he clung to Daon's arm like a child refusing to be left alone, his wine-hazed eyes blinking up at him.
"Let go," Daon said, voice sharper now. "You stink. Stay away."
Eunjae only hummed something unintelligible and leaned closer. The scent of rice wine mixed with smoke and sourness made Daon's jaw tighten.
With a sigh heavy enough to rattle the air, Daon pried Eunjae's fingers off and tugged at his shirt. "Hold still," he ordered. Eunjae was too drunk to protest, his head lolling slightly as Daon stripped the soiled fabric away.
Daon didn't let himself look too long. He scooped the shirt up, stalked into the small bathroom, and turned on the tap. The water rushed over his hands as he scrubbed at the fabric, his irritation knotting with something… harder to name.
Annoyance, yes... the whole night had been thrown off. But under it was a strange awareness, the kind that lingered even when he tried to push it away.
When he returned, towel in hand, Eunjae was slouched against the headboard, bare skin glowing faintly under the weak lamp light. Daon clicked his tongue and pressed the cool cloth against his collarbone, working down to clean the mess from his chest and neck.
"Next time, know your limit," Daon said flatly, though his voice lacked real bite.
Eunjae gave him a lazy smile before his eyes drifted closed again.
Daon set the towel aside and stood, glancing at the narrow bed. The air in the room felt thick, almost humid. No way he could lie down there not after this.
So he stepped out into the night, lowering himself onto the wooden bench outside the guesthouse. The wind was cool against his face, and he leaned back, eyes on the moonlit well.
Inside, Eunjae slept shirtless and unbothered. Outside, Daon sat awake, listening to the distant rustle of trees, knowing he wouldn't sleep at all.
NEXT DAY..
Sunlight filtered weakly through the heavy curtains, but it didn't do much to lift Rinwoo's mood. He had woken later than usual, his body heavy, head full of last night's ache.
By the time he came downstairs, the household was already gathered around the breakfast table. The soft clinking of chopsticks and the low murmur of conversation filled the room but two seats were noticeably empty.
Daon and Eunjae had returned only earlier that morning, looking suspiciously like they'd had more fun than they should have, but were now upstairs "resting."
Rinwoo took his place at the table, giving a polite nod to the servants before glancing toward Mr. Lee. He cleared his throat softly, fingers fidgeting under the tablecloth. "Father… I was wondering if Taekyun and I could… go see Master Hwang. There's something..."
Across the table, Taekyun froze mid-bite. His eyes flicked sharply to Rinwoo, warning him without a word.
Mr. Lee's gaze narrowed slightly. "Why?"
Rinwoo hesitated. His tongue felt heavy. How could he tell him the truth? That he feared another curse attack on Taekyun, the same strange shadows that had almost taken him before?
Before Rinwoo could stumble through an excuse, Taekyun spoke up smoothly, setting down his chopsticks. "It's Taemin. He hasn't gone to find his fated match yet, and it's already late. We should go before it's too late."
Taemin looked up from his bowl, frowning deeply. "I'm not interested in...." He stopped himself, catching the faint, silent plea in Rinwoo's eyes. He understood. This wasn't just about him.
After a pause, Taemin sighed. "…Fine. I'll go." His tone was reluctant, but there was a shadow of seriousness there. He knew exactly why Rinwoo and Taekyun wanted to make this trip.
Mr. Lee studied them all, his expression unreadable, before finally giving a slow nod. "Very well. If it must be done,then you should go." With that Mr. Lee left.
Mr. Lee's footsteps faded down the hall, and the room settled into an uneasy quiet.
Taemin leaned back in his chair, eyes on Taekyun. "I told you.. I don't care about finding some match. If we're going to Master Hwang, it's to find out about that attack. Otherwise, I'm not going."
Taekyun's jaw tightened at his younger brother's blunt tone. For a moment, the glare he shot across the table was sharp enough to cut. But after a tense beat, he exhaled through his nose and gave a short, reluctant nod.
Satisfied, Taemin pushed back his chair. "Good. Then I'll go pack." Without another word, he walked out, the sound of his footsteps fading up the stairs.
Now only Rinwoo and Taekyun remained.
Rinwoo's eyes wandered to the seat across from him, now empty except for the half-finished breakfast Taekyun had been eating. The thought of just the two of them here, the table quiet, the morning light catching on Taekyun's profile made an involuntary heat creep into Rinwoo's cheeks.
He shifted in his seat, fingers tightening around his cup before he finally found the courage to ask, voice soft but careful, "Where… were you last night?"
The question stopped Taekyun mid-bite. He slowly set down his chopsticks, his expression unreadable as he met Rinwoo's gaze. "I had some business," he said smoothly, the lie delivered without a flicker of hesitation. "It ran late."
He didn't wait for Rinwoo to respond. Pushing back from the table, Taekyun stood, straightened his sleeves, and left the room in long strides, leaving the faint scent of his cologne in the air.
Rinwoo sat frozen for a moment, staring at the untouched food in front of him. His chest felt tight, his mind churning with too many thoughts the memory of last night's waiting, the warmth of old memories, and the coldness of his husband's back as he walked away.
The breakfast that had once felt like a shared moment now tasted like ash.
After breakfast broke apart, the quiet bustle of the estate shifted into a day of preparations. Servants moved about with folded linens, packed food, and layered coats for the mountain trip.
Rinwoo, trying to distract himself from the gnawing ache Taekyun had left him with, wandered toward Taemin's room. The door was half-open, and inside Taemin was tossing clothes into a bag while grinning down at his phone, thumbs moving quickly.
He looked… different. Relaxed. His usual sharp edge had softened.
Rinwoo stepped in, leaning against the doorframe. "Need a hand?"
"Sure," Taemin said without looking up, but his smile didn't fade as he slid another text away.
Rinwoo walked over, folding a coat before speaking gently. "Can I ask you something?"
"Mm?"
"What happened? You used to stay out until dawn, disappear for days, skip meals. And now… you're eating three times a day, your clothes smell like laundry instead of alcohol, and you're… smiling all the time. Is it because of Juwon?"
Taemin's lips curved wider, the kind of smile that gave him away instantly. He gave a little giggle before turning his phone screen toward Rinwoo. "Hyung, come here I'll show you last night's dinner photos. With his mother."
Rinwoo stepped closer, glancing at the images. The golden light of a luxury restaurant, Mrs. Park's soft smile, Juwon sitting close to Taemin with that proud, almost shy look.
But what made Rinwoo's chest warm wasn't the food or the setting it was seeing Lee Taemin, the troublemaker of the family, looking genuinely happy. A happiness that was steady, not fleeting.
And for just a moment, Rinwoo let himself smile too.
Rinwoo's gaze lingered on Taemin longer than he meant to, the curve of his lips slowly flattening as a heavier thought settled in. The Parks and the Lees years of cold war between the two families.
"Taemin…" Rinwoo's voice softened, cautious. "You know about the rivalry. What are you going to do about it.
Taemin's smile faltered, his eyes dropping to the floor. For a moment, the air between them felt heavier than the mountain luggage piled nearby. Then he spoke, voice low but unshakable.
"Even if it takes my life," he said, "I'll still love Juwon."
Rinwoo froze at the bluntness, his fingers tightening on the edge of the bedspread. "Then....what about curse… you know if you don't marry your fated match, you could die." His words were more plea than warning.
Taemin lifted his chin, meeting Rinwoo's eyes without a tremor. "Then I'll die loving Juwon."
It stunned Rinwoo. Not the words themselves but the certainty in them. In all his life, Rinwoo had never met someone who spoke of love without bargaining with fate, without fear of death.
And for a fleeting second, Rinwoo wondered if this was what courage looked like… or madness.
Rinwoo sat there, his hands resting on his knees, teeth worrying at his lower lip. Words rose in his throat only to choke halfway out, collapsing into silence again and again.
Taemin glanced at him from the corner of his eye, sensing something brewing.
Finally, Rinwoo's voice broke through, soft but trembling. "…How.... do you make someone love you?"
Taemin froze for just a heartbeat, but the reason behind the question was obvious. He knew exactly whose name sat quietly in Rinwoo's heart.
A slow, understanding smile spread across his face. "First," Taemin began, leaning back against the bedpost, "you have to be there for them. Really there. Not just when it's convenient."
Rinwoo's eyes followed him, absorbing every word.
"Don't mind their moods too much people pull away sometimes. Help them when they need it, even in the small ways. Bare minimum kindness… it sounds simple, but it's rare."
He kept going, listing little things noticing what they like without asking, being patient when they push you away, remembering the smallest details of what they say.
"And," Taemin added with a soft laugh, "sometimes you have to love them enough to let them come to you, instead of chasing until you're out of breath."
Rinwoo's fingers tightened slightly in his lap, each piece of advice landing somewhere deep inside him. He wondered if any of it could reach Taekyun… or if the distance between them was already too far.
Rinwoo kept his gaze low, fingers fiddling with the edge of a folded shirt. His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"…What do you do if they push you away? Or… just ignore you?"
Taemin didn't answer right away. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, weighing his words. "That's the hard part," he admitted. "If they push you away, sometimes you give them space… sometimes you push back in, just enough to remind them you're still there. It's a balance."
Rinwoo swallowed, listening like the answer might save him.
"And if they ignore you," Taemin continued, "you have two choices. You can walk away and protect yourself… or you can stay, knowing it's going to hurt. But if you stay, you have to be ready to keep giving, even when you don't get much in return."
He gave Rinwoo a long, quiet look. "But you have to ask yourself are you loving them… or are you waiting for them to notice you?"
Rinwoo's chest ached at that, because deep down, he already knew which one he was doing.