Chapter Text
I
“It’s a foolish plan.”
Bang Chan heaves a sigh, fingers massaging soothing circles into his throbbing temples.
“It’s a foolish plan,” Seo Changbin—having no sympathy whatsoever for his plight—repeats. “Worse: you know it’s a foolish plan.”
“Regardless, I intend to see it through,” Bang Chan says, voice firm, unwavering in his conviction.
Changbin clicks his tongue and briefly redirects his attention back to the small spread of indulgent delicacies laid out before him. After some careful consideration, he picks up a piece of dasik and swallows it in one bite.
“It’s the only way,” Bang Chang insists, ignoring his own plate of sweets in favour of continuing the conversation.
“Or,” Changbin says, straightening out the folds of his robe with an impatient flick of his wrist, “you could refrain from risking your life, doing something so painfully stupid.”
Bang Chan huffs but doesn’t argue. There’s no point in it on account of Changbin being right. Chan’s plan is the embodiment of foolishness, but time has made him desperate and this might be his only chance.
“My friend,” Bang Chan intones gently, “please believe me when I say that I wouldn’t risk the life you’ve so graciously given me if there was any other way.”
“But there is,” Changbin insists. “Use the resources you have at your disposal. Use me. My contacts. My informants. My wealth.”
“And to what end?” Bang Chan snaps, tone sharper than intended. “Fifteen years I’ve been hiding, lurking in the shadows, hoping for a miracle. All your resources, all your riches, they weren’t enough to clear my parents’ names.”
Bang Chan pauses, a flicker of pain darkening his handsome features before he can collect himself enough to continue.
“Is it not my duty as their son to act when an opportunity presents itself? How could I bow at my parents’ grave, knowing I haven’t done everything in my power to avenge their deaths?”
Silence settles, only occasionally broken by the cheery chatter of the magpies on the roof, loud enough to reach them through the window of Changbin’s study; a sharp contrast to the heavy air that seems to have permeated the room.
At last, Changbin relents, his broad shoulders slumping in defeat.
“Do what you must,” he grumbles as he pushes his half-finished plate of dasik away, appetite ruined by Bang Chan’s stubbornness. “But do not say I didn’t warn you, once the consequences of your actions will inevitably catch up with you.”
A smile breaks through Bang Chan’s stern expression, full of warmth and affection.
“Should things go awry, feel free to remind me of my own foolishness for the rest of my life.”
Changbin makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat, then waves Bang Chang off with an impatient swish of his sleeve.
“You owe me.”
“And I’ll spend the rest of my days repaying you for your kindness,” Bang Chan is quick to reply, before he excuses himself with a polite bow.
No matter how unwilling he had claimed to be, Seo Changbin made sure that Bang Chan would receive an invitation to the Lee’s family estate.
It must have been a small matter for a man as influential and well-connected as Changbin but Bang Chan is grateful regardless. A few choice words, said in the presence of the head servant who often came to request rare goods on behalf of his master; a letter written in response to a polite inquiry; glowing praise for the man in question. That’s all it took for Changbin to succeed where Bang Chan alone would have undoubtedly failed.
And now Bang Chan is facing the heavy gates guarding the estate, waiting to be received. He’s dressed in the humble attire of a scholar, a letter of recommendation held in one hand, a fan in the other.
He’s welcomed by the head servant, an old man with cloudy eyes and a noticeable limp, radiating superiority.
“Scholar Bang,” he greets, brows furrowing as he takes in Bang Chan’s appearance. Judging from the tight line of his mouth, he isn’t particularly impressed. “Master Seo Changbin has sent word of your arrival, please follow me.”
The Lee estate is vast and beautiful, an oasis of tranquility amidst the exhausting bustle of the city that surrounds it. Simple lines and graceful curves formed by stones and trees, a careful balance between buildings and gardens, so that the living quarters neither enclose the garden, nor do the gardens dominate the living quarters. There are small ponds, placed in the middle of the gardens with lotus flowers gracefully floating on the water and accompanied by pine trees that provide much needed shade during hot summer days. Earth, stone and water, all in perfect harmony, dignified and effortlessly elegant.
If only Bang Chan could appreciate such beauty the way it deserved. But when he allows his eyes to roam, all he feels is a sharp pang of bitterness deep inside his chest.
“Lord Lee has spent many hours contemplating how to create an environment best suited for silent study and self-improvement,” the old servant’s voice rings out, interrupting Bang Chan’s gloomy musings. “It seems he was successful in his endeavour, if an esteemed scholar like Young Master Bang is so entranced by it.”
An embarrassed flush threatens to stain Bang Chan’s cheeks and he’s quick to tear his gaze away from the peaceful surroundings and keep it firmly fixed to the back of the head servant’s head as they continue on their way to the inner courtyard.
He’s led to a small study in one of the side buildings and offered cheongju, along with a promise that the master of the estate will see him soon.
Bang Chan isn’t bothered by the additional wait. In his experience, men who think themselves important often lacked in manners. Bang Chan has waited fifteen years for this moment. He can wait a little longer.
Straightening the folds of his robe, Bang Chan busies himself with studying the room he has been left to wait in. He reads the titles of books piled high on oaken shelves; notices how dry the inkstone on the long table in front of him is—as if it has been days, if not months, since someone last used it—notices the fine layer of dust covering everything like a gossamer veil.
Not the main study then. Merely a side study long forgotten by the Lee family and the staff alike, only good enough to use as a glorified shed. Another subtle insult Bang Chan has no choice but to endure.
There’s no way to tell how much time passes while Bang Chan is waiting for the lord of the estate to arrive. No sundial in the courtyard he could take a peek at through the open windows. He can merely guess by watching the slow journey of the sun across the sky, so languid and slow it feels as if it too is mocking Bang Chan.
The shadows have grown long by the time the rickety door is slid open and the head servant’s wrinkled face moves into view. He gives a nod in greeting, then quickly steps aside to make way for the man Bang Chan has fantasised about killing innumerable times.
The patriarch of the Lee clan has grown old. Fine lines are now visible around his thin mouth and slanted eyes, and were he to take off his horsehair hat, Bang Chan is sure his hair would be streaked with silver. A purportedly magnanimous smile is playing around his lips: the only apology Bang Chan receives for the man’s tardiness.
Bang Chan rises wordlessly and bows to the man he despises like no other. It pains him and wounds his pride having to do so, but he has a role to play and in this role, he’s but a destitute scholar, hoping to find employment.
Lord Lee motions for him to sit down again and Bang Chan does, his balled fists hidden by his wide sleeves.
“Forgive my lateness, but there was important business that could bear no delay. I’m sure Scholar Bang understands.”
Important business, he says, but knowing what Bang Chan knows about him, it’s more likely that he got carried away making merriment with one of his many mistresses.
Vile man, Bang Chang thinks, but what comes out of his mouth when he opens it to speak are words of gentle forgiveness.
“Of course. Lord Lee is an important man and I’m grateful that he would take time out of his busy day to see me.”
Lord Lee smiles, pleased, no doubt, to be seen in such a flattering light. Sitting across Bang Chan—the two of them separated by the low writing desk that has seen better days—he leans back and then reaches out with one hand, waiting.
Bang Chan is quick to hand over the sealed letter of recommendation with both hands, his gaze respectfully lowered.
There's the unmistakable sound of the seal being broken, followed by the rustle of mulberry paper. Lord Lee makes thoughtful little noises while scanning the letter, tapping a lazy rhythm out on the lacquered table top.
Bang Chan does not believe for a moment that he is actually reading the extensive resumé Seo Changbin has penned for Bang Chan. Lord Lee’s eyes are jumping from line to line, too fast to actually make out the characters written. Only once, he pauses, stumbling over a particular phrase.
His eyes meet Bang Chan’s over the edge of the paper.
“Late Master Seo took you in after you were orphaned?” he asks with a lazy drawl.
Bang Chan nods and this time, he doesn’t have to pretend when he speaks of the gratitude he feels for the former head of the Seo family.
“He saw my potential and sponsored me so that I could take the gwageo and become a scholar. I owe him a life debt.”
“Gratitude,” Lord Lee muses, nodding his head in approval. “It’s good to see that there are still young men who know the meaning of such words. Too many believe they don’t owe their parents anything. Too many are lazy, entitled, an embarrassment to their houses and clans.”
Is that what he thinks of his two adoptive sons? Is that the reason why he’s looking for a private tutor? Because his wards are wayward children who have to be forced back onto the proper path?
“You’re young,” Lord Lee comments, interrupting Bang Chan’s musings. “Perhaps too young.”
“I may be young but Lord Lee can rest assured that my age is no detriment to the tutelage I can provide. The young masters are in good hands with me.”
Lord Lee is looking at him intently, his lips pulled into a humourless smile.
Bang Chan meets his gaze unwaveringly, refusing to prostrate himself more so than he already has.
“Very well,” Lord Lee says with a sigh, breaking the tension that has built between them, the sudden shift like a piece of string snapping under pressure. “If Scholar Bang believes he's capable, he shall get the chance to prove himself.
Not waiting for a reply, Lord Lee rises, brushing dust off his expensive garments before leading Bang Chan outside, where the head servant, whose name Bang Chan still doesn’t know, is waiting for them.
“My apologies, but I have other business to attend to. I will leave Scholar Bang in the capable hands of Head Servant Ga Yi.”
Lord Lee turns to his servant, tone noticeable colder as he addresses the man.
“Give Scholar Bang a tour of the estate and then call for the young masters. They shall be introduced to their new tutor.”
Ga Yi hesitates, his forehead glistening with a nervous sheen of sweat.
“What is it?” Lord Lee snaps at him, patience running thin.
Bowing so deep his sleeves are sweeping the dusty courtyard, Ga Yi is quick to offer a stuttered apology.
“The young masters…they’ve taken two of the Lord's horses and nobody knows where they have disappeared to.”
Cold fury freezes Lord Lee’s expression as he struggles to maintain his composure in Bang Chan’s presence.
“What are you waiting for?! Send out word that the young masters are missing and, should they be found, are to be brought back here. So that they may take responsibility for their reckless actions.”
Ga Yi is rooted to the spot, his heavy-set eyes flittering back and forth between his master and Bang Chan.
“It’s quite alright,” Bang Chan lets him know, feeling pity for the man. “I have lessons to prepare anyway. Once you send word, I will return and begin instructing the young masters.”
Ga Yi’s shoulders sag in relief, and he thanks Bang Chan profusely before hastening away, eager to leave this awkward conversation behind and find the missing lordlings.
“Scoundrels,” Lord Lee huffs. “Always shirking their duties. More interested in trivial pursuits than their studies. You see now, Scholar Bang, why I was so desperate to find them a tutor.”
Taking the horses of their guardian and sneaking out without permission: it doesn’t strike Bang Chan as a grave offense. On the contrary, he himself has been guilty of such mischief. Back when he was nothing but a boy and didn’t know the meaning of grief; when his days were careless and filled with sweet idleness.
“Youthful escapades,” Bang Chan tries to placate Lord Lee, not quite arguing but not fully agreeing either. “Most young men will grow out of it with time.”
Lord Lee makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat.
“Let us hope they will grow out of it sooner rather than later. I fear I’ve been too lenient with them after the deaths of their parents. Now, I’m paying the price for my softheartedness.”
Bang Chan is about to inquire about the deaths of both boys’ parents when a commotion outside the gates has him pause.
“What's the meaning of this?” Lord Lee hisses as he rushes towards the noise, almost losing his hat in his hurry.
Bang Chan follows without prompting, curious to see what or who is causing such an uproar.
He doesn’t have to wonder for very long.
The moment they reach the gates, they swing open and two horses rush past them, leaving a thick cloud of dust in their wake. Laughter fills the previously tranquil courtyard and Bang Chan finds himself blinking frantically as the fine dust slowly settles. His eyes are watering and his already humble attire is looking even worse for wear now, covered in grime and dust.
But all that matters little when he looks up and lays eyes on the most beautiful man he has ever seen.