Rinwoo was just about to step into his room when he noticed someone coming out of Master Hwang's chamber. It was Beom Seok, who seemed lost in thought until his eyes fell on Rinwoo. His expression immediately softened, and he walked over with a polite smile.
"You got my introduction earlier," Beom Seok said casually, "but you never introduced yourself."
Rinwoo paused, his gentle nature showing even in the way he carried himself. He offered a small, soft smile before replying, "I'm Rinwoo… almost thirty years old. Nothing much to know about me"
Beom Seok froze, blinking in disbelief. "Thirty?!" His voice carried a mix of surprise and admiration. He looked Rinwoo up and down, stunned. "No way… I thought you were still in high school. How can someone look this young and pretty at thirty?"
Rinwoo's cheeks flushed a faint pink, and he lowered his gaze, chuckling softly. The sound was light and delicate, like a breeze slipping past. That quiet laugh made something stir in Beom Seok's chest, softening his usually playful heart.
For a moment, he hesitated, unsure if he should even ask but then, trying to sound nonchalant, he leaned in slightly and said, "So… are you single?" His tone was casual, like he was only curious, though the faint tension in his eyes betrayed him.
Rinwoo's lashes lowered as he looked down shyly. He shook his head gently and admitted in a low voice, "No… I'm married. To Taekyun."
Beom Seok felt a sharp stab in his chest, heavier than he expected. Not just dating, not a fleeting situationship married. The word echoed bitterly in his mind. He forced himself to stay composed, curling his lips into a smile that masked the disappointment clawing at him.
"I can't believe it," he said lightly, though there was a weight in his voice. "Such a sweet man… married to an iceberg."
Rinwoo's head snapped up in surprise before he let out another small chuckle at Beom Seok's teasing remark. Beom Seok laughed too, though deep inside, he wished the ring on Rinwoo's finger belonged to him.
Rinwoo tilted his head, smiling with that same soft warmth, the kind that made it impossible to dislike him. "Taekyun isn't so cold once you know him," he said, voice quiet, almost protective.
Beom Seok pressed his lips together, holding back the bitter remark that nearly slipped out. Instead, he exhaled with a chuckle, feigning ease. "Guess I'll have to take your word for it. Still feels like marrying a block of ice to me."
Rinwoo giggled again, covering his mouth politely, but his eyes curved in delight. That laugh it was low, gentle, unguarded something Beom Seok hadn't expected from someone so delicate-looking. His chest tightened, and he had to glance away to stop himself from staring too long.
"Do you… regret it?" Beom Seok asked suddenly, softer than before, surprising even himself.
Rinwoo blinked, taken aback, but his expression softened. "No. He takes care of me in his own way. It may not look like much to others, but I see it." He lowered his gaze more like avoiding Beom seok gaze, his thumb fiddling with his sleeve. "I'm... lucky."
Beom Seok's smile faltered, but he masked it quickly with a casual shrug. "Hn. Then I suppose I was too late." His words sounded careless, but there was a sharp ache hidden beneath them.
Rinwoo looked at him, puzzled. "Too late?"
Beom Seok gave a small, teasing smirk, trying to pass it off. "Too late to steal you away before you were claimed by that glacier."
Rinwoo flushed deeply, eyes widening, before laughing nervously. "You joke too much, Beom Seok-ssi."
"Maybe." Beom Seok shoved his hands into his sleeves, stepping back slightly. "Or maybe I just mean it."
For a moment, silence lingered, only the soft rustle of the shrine's trees filling the space. Rinwoo's heart beat oddly fast, though he quickly bowed politely to excuse himself. "I should go rest now… Goodnight."
Beom Seok watched him retreat, that soft figure disappearing into the room. His smile faded as soon as Rinwoo was gone, leaving only the ache behind.
Inside the room, Taekyun sat upright, his posture as rigid as the silence, fingers tapping steadily against the keyboard of his laptop. The glow of the screen reflected against his sharp features, but his eyes didn't waver until the door creaked open. Rinwoo stepped inside quietly, carrying a hesitant air, and Taekyun's gaze flickered toward him.
"Pack the things," Taekyun said, his tone flat, detached. "We'll leave early in the morning."
Rinwoo gave a small nod, moving toward the shelves and folding clothes into the case. But his eyes lingered, studying Taekyun's expression between each motion. After a moment of silence, he spoke softly, almost as if testing the weight of his words.
"What will happen," Rinwoo asked, "if Taemin doesn't want to marry his fated match… and instead chooses someone he loves?"
The tapping stopped. The room seemed to still with it. Taekyun's body froze mid-motion, and slowly, he lifted his head. His gaze locked onto Rinwoo's, cold and cutting, his brows drawn tight with disapproval.
"Why," Taekyun said sharply, "would you ask that?" His voice was low but heavy, the kind of tone that made the air feel colder. "You know the Lee bloodline has suffered enough for those who refused their fated match. You know the curse doesn't forgive rebellion."
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as if daring Rinwoo to challenge him. "Do you remember what happened to me before marriage was even decided? The accidents that left scars on my body? That was the curse's warning."
Rinwoo's hands stilled on the fabric he was folding. He looked at Taekyun quietly for a long while, his lips pressed into a thin line, before lowering his gaze and giving a small nod. He said nothing more, but the weight of the silence between them carried an unspoken thought.
Taekyun's tone was sharp, but there was a flicker in his eyes something he quickly masked with the usual coldness.
"Don't ever say such nonsense again, Rinwoo," he muttered, closing the laptop with a snap. "The curse doesn't forgive rebellion. You've seen what it did to me, to my father, to everyone who dared defy it. Do you want the same fate for Taemin?"
Rinwoo tightened his grip on the clothes in his hand. "No… but," he hesitated, his voice quieter now, "sometimes I think maybe… maybe love could be stronger than a curse. What if the fated one isn't the one he truly wants?"
Taekyun let out a low scoff, though his jaw tightened. "Stronger than a curse?" He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if remembering something painful. "You think I didn't hope for that once?" His fingers brushed absentmindedly over the faint scar on his wrist, his frown deepening. "Hope doesn't erase centuries of bloodline suffering."
Rinwoo lowered his gaze, realizing he had touched a wound deeper than he intended. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Finally, Taekyun spoke again, his voice low but firm.
"Taemin must marry his fated match. For his sake… and for ours. Don't bring this up again."
Rinwoo nodded obediently, but in his heart, the question refused to die.
The next morning, before the first light of dawn, Taemin, Taekyun, and Rinwoo stood at the shrine's doorstep. Master Hwang and Beom Seok waited there to see them off.
Beom Seok's gaze never left Rinwoo, his eyes following every hesitant movement. Taemin noticed it and felt a strange heaviness in his chest, though he said nothing. Together, they bowed deeply to Master Hwang in respect.
As they straightened, Beom Seok stepped forward. He slipped a folded piece of paper into Rinwoo's hand.
"It's my number," he said, his voice steady. "Text me when you reach home."
Rinwoo froze, his fingers curling around the slip of paper. His wide eyes shifted uncertainly to Taekyun, who was already glaring daggers at Beom Seok. Finally, Rinwoo swallowed nervously and murmured, "I… I don't have a mobile phone."
The words dropped like stones between them.
Taemin blinked in surprise, realizing for the first time how little they truly knew about Rinwoo. Taekyun's expression hardened. Beom Seok, however, looked stunned then almost furious.
"In this century… how can a grown man not have a phone?" he muttered through clenched teeth. His jaw tightened, and he shot Taekyun a withering glare before turning his eyes back to Rinwoo.
His gaze softened "If you ever change your mind," he said softly, almost pleading, "I'll be here."
Rinwoo hesitated, torn between fear and something he didn't understand, before giving a small, uncertain nod. That was all he managed before Taekyun seized his wrist, pulling him firmly toward the stairs that wound down the mountain.
As they descended, Rinwoo glanced back one last time. Beom Seok was still standing there, his expression carved with concern that lingered like a shadow in Rinwoo's heart.
When they left, Beom Seok turned to Master Hwang, his expression sharp with concern.
"Isn't he your grandson? Why do you let him suffer like that?"
Master Hwang's shoulders sagged, his wrinkled hands tightening around his prayer beads. A long sigh escaped him, heavy with years of hidden grief.
"I want to keep him here," he murmured, voice trembling as his gaze dropped to the ground. "I want to keep him away from all of them… away from the curse, from the pain. But I'm afraid… he doesn't want that. He's stubborn, just like his mother once was."
Beom Seok frowned, trying to read the old man's weary face. "Then why not tell him? Why not let him know who you are? That you're not just some monk giving him guidance, but his own blood?"
Master Hwang closed his eyes for a moment, the silence stretching. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and heavy with sorrow.
"Because… he doesn't even know I am his grandfather. And if I tell him now… I fear he will never accept me."
The flickering candlelight illuminated the regret etched across his face, and Beom Seok's heart sank at the quiet despair in the old man's tone.
Taekyun drove the car in silence, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. Beside him in the passenger seat, Rinwoo sat stiffly, clutching the small folded piece of paper Beom Seok had slipped into his hand before they left.
In the back seat, Taemin lay stretched against the window, the faint hum of the car lulling him into heavy thoughts. His phone screen glowed softly in his hand, Juwon's last message staring back at him.
Should I tell him? The question repeated in his mind over and over until it felt like a weight pressing down on his chest.
Would Juwon forgive me for hiding my real name? Would he look at me with the same warmth once he found out that i wasn't Kim Taemin, but Lee Taemin? Every possibility twisted like a knife, but lying to him any longer felt unbearable.
After minutes of restless hesitation, Taemin's fingers finally began to move. He typed a short message, his heart pounding with every word:
I'll come to your office today. I want to talk about something.
He stared at the text for a long moment before pressing send. Once it was gone, an odd mix of fear and relief washed over him. He set the phone down on his chest and closed his eyes, whispering silently to himself, I'll tell him today. No matter what happens.
But even as the car moved steadily through the quiet streets, Taemin couldn't shake the gnawing doubt in his chest.
Meanwhile, at the Lee estate, chaos brewed inside Daon's bedroom. The room was a mess his coat half thrown on the chair, papers scattered, and the sound of raised voices leaking through the heavy doors.
Daon stood by the mirror, his shirt only half-buttoned, his back a canvas of fresh whip marks that burned with every movement. Despite the pain, his jaw was set stubbornly.
"I will go," Daon said firmly, snatching his tie from the dresser. "I have work to do, Eunjae. I won't sit here like an invalid while everyone looks down on me."
"You can barely move!" Eunjae's voice cracked in frustration as he grabbed the tie out of Daon's hand and threw it aside. "Your back is bleeding, Daon! Are you insane?!"
"I've endured worse." Daon winced as he tried to pull his coat on, his face pale but his pride refusing to bend. "If I stay here, Father will think he's broken me."
"Father?" Eunjae's tone sharpened. "You're worried about him when you can't even breathe without wincing? Do you realize what you look like right now?" He stepped in front of Daon, blocking him from reaching the door. "Even if you crawl to work, what will you prove? That you're desperate? That you'd rather bleed in front of strangers than admit you need help?"
Outside the door, the servants exchanged nervous whispers.
"Master Daon is arguing again…" one whispered.
"They say his back was torn by the whip" another added, voice hushed.
"Poor Master Eunjae… he's the only one who dares stand up to him."
Inside, Daon's breathing grew heavier, his pride battling with his body's limits. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed them against the dresser for balance.
Eunjae softened, his anger turning into worry. He reached out, gripping Daon's arm gently. "Please… just this once, don't be stubborn. Stay. Rest. Let me help you, even if it's just for a day."
Daon froze, his throat tightening at Eunjae's words. For a moment, the sharp pride in his eyes flickered with something else pain, not from the whip, but from the vulnerability he hated showing.
Daon finally let out a shaky breath, his pride warring with his pain. After a long pause, he lowered his eyes and muttered, "Fine… just one day."
Eunjae exhaled, relief flooding his features. Without another word, he moved to Daon's side and gently guided him back to sit on the edge of the bed. His hands were careful, steady, as he helped Daon out of his stiff, formal clothes and into something softer and more comfortable.
Eunjae pulled the fabric gently over Daon's shoulders, fingers brushing against heated skin where the whip marks burned fresh. Daon hissed, jaw tightening as he tried not to flinch, but Eunjae caught it all.
"You're so stubborn," Eunjae muttered, smoothing the cloth down his chest. "Still thinking about work when you can't even stand straight."
Daon gave him a sharp look. "It's not your place to decide."
Eunjae smirked, leaning down until their faces were only inches apart. "Then whose place is it? You?" His tone dipped low, deliberately slow, his lips nearly grazing Daon's when he whispered, "I'm the one patching you up, aren't I?"
Daon stiffened immediately, his eyes narrowing. "Stop it."
But Eunjae didn't. He tilted his head, deliberately letting his breath fan over Daon's mouth, his voice teasing and cruel. "What's wrong? You hate when I do this, don't you? When I get too close?"
Daon's fingers curled against the bedding. "I said stop."
"Then push me away," Eunjae murmured, his grin widening as if he knew Daon wouldn't. His lips brushed against Daon's, feather-light, not a kiss, just the unbearable nearness.
Daon's chest rose and fell faster, irritation and something else battling inside him. He wanted to shove him, but his body betrayed him. Heat pooled low, his pulse quickened, and before he realized it, his breath hitched.
Eunjae froze for a moment, his gaze flicking down. A slow, wicked smile tugged at his lips. "Oh…" he breathed, mock surprise coating his tone. "Didn't think you'd enjoy my flirting this much."
Daon's eyes widened, horror flashing across his face as he realized he was hard. His body reacted against his will, and it stunned him. He quickly looked away, ashamed, cheeks flushed with both anger and disbelief.
"Shut up," he growled, voice hoarse, but it only made Eunjae lean closer, whispering against his ear.
"Guess your body doesn't hate me as much as you say it does."
Meanwhile at Park Company, Juwon sat frozen at his desk, his eyes glued to Taemin's message on his phone.
His heart pounded so violently it almost hurt.
What does he want to talk about?
The thought spiraled in his mind, dragging him down with every passing second.
What if he… what if he found someone else? What if he's finally tired of me pushing him away all the time?
His grip on the phone tightened. He remembered Taemin's soft voice asking for his time, his warmth, and how often he brushed it off with excuses. He remembered the moments when Taemin leaned closer, needy for his affection, and how he had stiffened, too scared to show what he truly felt.
Maybe he thinks I'm not enough… maybe he realized I'm not the one he needs. God, I'm so stupid… I kept hurting him without even knowing. What if this is the end? What if he tells me to stay away from now on?
The words let's talk kept flashing on the screen, echoing like a verdict.
Juwon pressed a hand over his chest, as though he could stop the storm raging inside. The office around him buzzed with phones ringing and employees typing, but for him, the world had gone silent only the sound of his fear, guilt, and Taemin's name filled his head.
His lips trembled as he whispered to himself, "Taemin-ah… don't leave me…"
By the time Rinwoo, Taemin, and Taekyun arrived back, the sun was leaning toward late afternoon. Mr. Lee was tied up in a meeting with some officials, his stern voice echoing faintly from the study. Eunjae had just picked up Daon's lunch tray, planning to take it to his room, when the main doors opened.
The moment he spotted Rinwoo stepping inside, Eunjae's eyes lit up. Without a second thought, he shoved the tray into the hands of a startled servant and bolted forward.
"Rinwoo!" Eunjae practically leapt, wrapping his arms around him so tightly that Rinwoo staggered a step back. Eunjae buried his face against his shoulder, repeating breathlessly, "I missed you sooo much, sooo much!"
Rinwoo froze for a second, stiff from surprise. Then a quiet chuckle slipped from him, a rare sound that made Eunjae cling even harder. "Yah… you'll knock me over," Rinwoo said softly, though there was warmth in his voice. He steadied himself, patting Eunjae's back awkwardly but tenderly.
Taemin and Taekyun exchanged glances behind them Taemin's eyes softened at the scene, while Taekyun only raised a brow, pretending to look uninterested but clearly amused.
But Eunjae didn't care who was watching. He pulled back only enough to look at Rinwoo's face, his lips trembling between a smile and tears. "Do you know how awful it was without you?"
Taemin noticed they seemed busy, so he quietly slipped away toward the car. Taekyun, uninterested as ever, trudged upstairs straight to his bedroom without a word. Rinwoo, however, stayed behind. He turned to Eunjae with a calm expression, though his tone was sharp when he asked,
"Where's Daon?"
Eunjae's shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. He told Rinwoo everything that had happened in their absence the punishment, Daon's stubborn attempt to go to work despite his condition, and the argument that had left the servants whispering outside Daon's door.
At first Rinwoo just listened, but when Eunjae admitted he had gone out clubbing without informing anyone, his words tumbled out in a rush. Rinwoo's eyes widened, color draining from his face. He froze on the spot, his mind spinning as realization crashed over him.
"No…" Rinwoo whispered, almost to himself. He grabbed Eunjae's shoulders, his voice trembling now. "It's all my fault I should have told you. I should have told you about the rules"
He stopped mid-sentence, his throat tightening in guilt. He hadn't told Eunjae about those rules hadn't thought it necessary so soon. And because of his negligence, Daon had taken the punishment meant for Eunjae.
Eunjae blinked in confusion, his voice small. "Even going to clubs is against the rules?"
Rinwoo shook his head, the fear in his chest almost choking him. "It's my fault… I should've told you. Daon was punished… because of you. Because I didn't warn you."
His hands slipped from Eunjae's shoulders, and for the first time, Rinwoo looked utterly shaken, guilt written all over his pale face.