If Silk Flowers Bloom by the Water’s Edge Chapter 78

Although his intuition wasn’t as exceptional as Chaehwa’s, he could instinctively feel that it was not a human. Yirok stood with his back leaned against the curtain and waited until the owner of the knock revealed their name. If they grew frustrated enough, they would reveal their identity themselves. Judging by the sound of the bell waking him from his night sleep and the lanterns illuminating the walls, it was clearly no ordinary evening.

Unless there was a stray yogwi that had slipped in by mistake, there would be no reason to stir up the night. Yirok, who had experience living and wrestling with harmful yogwi in the Bansi family, did not listen to the knocking sound carelessly. Targeting a person caught off guard by sleepiness was the hunting method of the yogwi.

Yirok lit a candle and approached the door with slow steps. As the knocking sound vanished, the shadow of the candlelight fell gloomily over his face.

“Yirok.”

The only ones who came to visit Yirok, who had come to live alone in a secluded single room, were Grandma Yomyeong and the crazy young lady. And today, what resonated down the hallway where the single room was located was Chaehwa’s bright voice. Carrying the possibility that it was a lie, Yirok’s feet reached right in front of the door. While the candlelight flickered as if shaking its head, Yirok’s eyes were already beyond the door. Behind the smooth wooden door, he pictured the young lady wearing silk hems.

“Yirok. It’s me, Chaehwa. I had a fight with Grandmother and have nowhere to go…”

It was a plausible story and a plausible imitation of the young lady. If Chaehwa had run away from home in the middle of the night, it would make sense for the lights to come on in the entire house. However, Chaehwa was not such an inconsiderate young lady. Although she grumbled with her mouth, he viewed her as a smart girl who never forgot what her role was.

Yirok, who slowly lowered the hand holding the candlestick, replied in a low voice.

“It’s late. I don’t want to get suspected while being together with you.”

It was a statement asking her to consider his potentially difficult position, but Chaehwa burst into a smile of obscure meaning.

“What suspicion?”

No matter how much he doubted and thought it wasn’t her, it was definitely Chaehwa’s voice and laughter. It was just when Yirok, whose heart was thumping, tried to ignore it and walk toward the bed. As if knowing he had turned his back, Chaehwa’s voice became soaked in tears.

“I fought with Grandmother and got drenched in water. Then, could you please lend me just one towel? Showing up in front of other people in this state is…”

Whenever he tried to move his legs, as if they were frostbitten, his heart protested. He couldn’t cast out the young lady, who would be shivering with wet hair, from his mind’s eye. Even without this, night sleep hadn’t been coming; if he chased away that thing—not knowing whether it was Chaehwa or a yogwi—he was bound to greet the morning with wide-open eyes. At that moment, what sweetly tempted his reason was something Chaehwa had said before. Didn’t she say Nanjubeol was thoroughly managed so that dangerous yogwi couldn’t frequent the mansion? Therefore, even if he opened the door and encountered a yogwi, it wouldn’t be Yirok’s loss. Ignoring Chaehwa in front of the door until his head burst felt like more of a loss instead.

Yirok, who went into the bathroom and pulled out a towel, stepped toward the door. Because of Chaehwa pacing in front of the door while making the familiar sound of flower shoes, his certainty solidified. Why on earth would a yogwi imitate Chaehwa out of so many people to entice him? Especially when Chaehwa and he were a pair with absolutely no intersection.

Bringing up a reason he himself thought was flimsy, Yirok grabbed the doorknob. The candlelight hotly heated his hand, telling him he must not, while the fluffy towel fresh from the laundry area urged him to open the door quickly. If only she weren’t wet with water, if only the sound of flower shoes hadn’t occurred—bearing countless excuses on his shoulders, Yirok opened the door.

“Fool.”

Through the crack of the door kept half open, Chaehwa could be seen sticking out her tongue. With a neat Hanbok collar and a wet ponytail, Chaehwa stood with her arms crossed. Yirok, whose lips parted slightly, threw the rest of the door wide open. Chaehwa, sniffing her nose, entered inside the door like the wind.

“Does it take ages just to bring out a towel? Honestly…”

Chaehwa, who walked as if scouring the room before Yirok even had a gap to stop her, aimed for the bed and sat down. Lest Chaehwa’s voice leak out, Yirok glanced toward the door while chasing after Chaehwa.

“Here.”

That a foot in a beoseon climbed onto the bed with a wet body was an absurd thing, too tiresome to even speak of. However, watching Chaehwa sitting on the bed where he had been rolling around until ten minutes ago made him feel strange rather than resentful. It was embarrassing to look at the rumpled blanket overlapping with Chaehwa’s smooth silk skirt. Looking at the floor, Yirok handed over the towel with a quite heartless touch.

“Wipe yourself.”

“Why are you standing so far away?”

If he got rolled up in the words of the talkative Chaehwa, the one who would lose nine times out of ten was him. Because he knew well that he was outmatched in words, he placed the towel beside the bed. Making eye contact with Chaehwa, who was wet with water, was difficult. The rims of his eyes burned as if the canola flowers he saw during the day had inflicted a burn.

Even though it was his own room, Yirok stood pressed against the wall as if looking for a place to escape. However, Chaehwa, who appeared beautifully dressed up in the dead of night, abruptly grabbed the wrist of him trying to leave. A groaning sound to prevent Yirok from flinging her off was a bonus.

“Sit here and comfort me a little.”

“Just wipe yourself with the towel.”

“Huh? Yirok.”

Although he spat out words harshly, Yirok was now in a plight where he couldn’t leave Chaehwa on his own feet. To dismiss it as a dream, Chaehwa’s hand was as warm as a roasted sweet potato. As a penalty for failing to fling off the pulling hand, Yirok ended up sitting on the edge of the bed. The strength of Chaehwa’s hand holding him so he couldn’t look for an opportunity to escape was remarkably strong. Yirok sat looking only at the clock, stiffening his head in one direction.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“You asked me to bring something to wipe with, so I brought it. Wipe yourself and get out.”

“You wipe me.”

“What?”

Whether she had gone mad under the moon night, what she said after seeking out his dormitory was spectacular. It was the moment he turned to look at her, thinking that his wrist had been caught quite a lot lately. Their eyes met, and the ridicule that had lingered at the corners of Yirok’s mouth fled away.

“I’m having a hard time, Yirok.”

He shouldn’t have seen the water droplets falling from her hair into the inside of her collar. Or else, he shouldn’t have seen Chaehwa’s lips, which looked as if they held moist rainwater. Feeling a sudden chest pain, Yirok gripped the towel in one hand. Seeing a scene in reality that he shouldn’t have seen even in a dream made his blood boil. It was a scene far too stimulating for a nineteen-year-old boy to handle.

This was so even though the lines of her body were tightly hidden with silk clothes so that skin was not revealed. Just by having Chaehwa, who was casting a subtle gaze, in front of him, Yirok felt carsick.

“I have a worry. There’s a kid I like… and you know what, he is so prickly toward me.”

And she ultimately added words that didn’t need to be said, painting Yirok’s cheeks red. Given the atmosphere, it was an easy matter to deduce who the prickly boy was. Premature expectation and self-loathing locked together, strangling Yirok’s neck. Possessing lips from which only blank air came out, Yirok brought out words with difficulty.

“You… who did you meet before coming here?”

“Why? Do I seem possessed by a yogwi?”

“If it’s not that…”

“If it’s not that, did you think I wouldn’t know you like me?”

He didn’t know why he felt like crying upon hearing Chaehwa’s words. Yirok shuddered at the fact that these weren’t words he had never even imagined. His thoughts hadn’t even reached near the normal word ‘love.’ However, it seemed to be a fact already known long ago in the center of his heart. He could only perceive his heart panting, unable to even deny Chaehwa’s words.

Chaehwa lifted her hand and lightly touched the cheek of Yirok, who couldn’t do anything. Tilting her head as if about to kiss him, she approached. From Chaehwa’s lips, which stopped a span away, came the smell of sweet fresh cream.

“I like you too. So…”

The moment Chaehwa was about to conclude with a kiss, white smoke entered through the crack of the door. As the weak candlelight went out, Chaehwa’s hand was withdrawn. Next, an anomaly occurred in Chaehwa’s shadow. The silk skirt fluttered and hid Chaehwa’s body. While he was watching the smoke coming into the door, not knowing what on earth was going on, a sound was heard.

Squeak, squeak… Something wriggled beneath Chaehwa’s silk skirt and fell under the bed. When Yirok stood up to catch it, it twisted its body while making squeaking sounds as if struck by red beans.

Soon, jumping high and turning the doorknob by itself, it was a rat as large as a cat. The lighting of the hallway where the lights had come on entered inside the room, revealing the rat’s identity. The rat, escaping outside to avoid the smoke, turned back and looked at Yirok.

“Ha.”

As the rat, raising its mouth corners as if ridiculing him, dashed away and vanished, Yirok was left with the silk skirt. The identity of the Cinderella rat, who had even left behind the flower shoes, was informed by Grandma Yomyeong, who subsequently appeared in the hallway.

“Yirok.”

It was a moment when Yirok, who came to his senses by a hair’s breadth, had hidden the silk skirt and the flower shoes. The hand of Grandma Yomyeong, who arrived holding a lantern, illuminated Yirok’s room. Yirok, caught by a disease where his limbs turn red due to being afflicted by a yogwi, revealed an awkward posture. He stood in front of the curtain, awkwardly separated from the blanket that was swollen from swallowing the silk skirt. After finishing the search, Grandma Yomyeong’s gaze reached Yirok.

“A large rat was running around the dormitory just now. Did you happen to see it?”

His primary thought was that, if nothing else, Chaehwa’s silk skirt and flower shoes must not be discovered. Yirok stood holding the curtain and slowly shook his head. The kind Grandma Yomyeong, who believed words were everything, swept her chest and explained the situation.

“To think that young lady Chaehwa forgot and cut her fingernails at this hour of night. The Moji, which was after those fingernails, caused a commotion tonight. It even stole the young lady’s treasured skirt and flower shoes.”

If he had known it was stolen, he would have revealed that he encountered it long ago. The time had passed, and the answer was already out of his mouth. In the dark corner where the lantern light could not shine, Grandma Yomyeong failed to see Yirok’s reddened face hidden beneath his composure. It was indeed a yogwi. Furthermore, it was a Moji that eats fingernails and imitates humans. Grandma Yomyeong left to check other rooms, along with words telling him to lock the door well. Yirok, whose face became expressionless, slowly slid down to sit with the sound of the door closing.

“I like you too.”

There were suspicious symptoms, but his thoughts had never once reached in that direction. He had believed that his gaze went toward Chaehwa without a conscience simply because he felt sorry for her and felt guilty. Covering his mouth with his finely trembling hand, Yirok prevented a hot sigh from leaking out.

It was a night when he came to know what he should not have realized. The commotion dragged out by the moonlight kept a boy’s heart awake.