🌹 Waiting Without Words
Yun Yuhua hadn't stepped outside the inn since the Ming Emperor's visit—not because of the imperial matters, but because Seo Ju was waiting for her. She'd seen him from the window, standing in the marketplace with that familiar, infuriating smile. Patient. Persistent. It followed her, an unwelcome shadow. No matter how she tried to ignore it, the weight of his presence lingered. She stayed hidden, unable to face him—not yet. Not when the walls she'd built around her heart still felt too fragile, too easily shattered.
Jinji had found no new clues about Li Zhiyong, so he stayed close, watching Seo Ju from the shadows. Do-hae, as always, quietly went about his errands, delivering letters to Seo Ju's royal grandmother. The stillness around them was thick, but beneath it, tension simmered.
"She knows something," Seo Ju said, his voice soft but steady as he handed a folded piece of cloth to Do-hae. His gaze flicked briefly to the bustling crowd, but his thoughts were fixed elsewhere. "Don't press her. If she feels cornered, she won't talk."
Do-hae nodded and disappeared into the crowd, blending in as always. Seo Ju's eyes shifted upward to the inn's upper floor. He could feel her presence hiding from him just beyond the wooden lattice. She was there, he knew. Carefully avoiding even the slightest glance in his direction, as if he wouldn't notice. His lips curled in a half-smile, barely noticeable, but determined.
He wasn't going anywhere.
"Keep hiding," he murmured to himself, the words almost lost in the marketplace noise. His smile deepened, and a quiet confidence in his voice. "I'll make you come out when you're ready."
Yun Yuhua moved quietly through the inn, serving bowls of rice and soup, her gaze fixed on the tables before her. But her mind—her mind was elsewhere. Thoughts of him crept in like an unwelcome storm. Even the thought of saying his name—Seo Ju—tightened her chest, a knot she couldn't undo. That arrogant man with a smile that lingered a little too long, like it was meant to haunt her.
She caught herself again, her eyes drifting to the window. The market street outside seemed so far, but she longed to look, just once, to see if he was there. Would he be standing there again, like a shadow in the crowd? But she couldn't—she wouldn't. If she met his gaze, if he caught her eye, that infuriating smile would undo everything. It would make her heart betray her all over again.
"Yuyu!" Ae-shim's voice pierced her thoughts, sharp and bright. Yun Yuhua blinked, startled. She hadn't realized how lost she'd become in her own mind. Ae-shim leaned in close, her voice teasing, almost too quiet. "He's not there today…"
Yun Yuhua turned, confused, her heart skipping a beat. "What?"
Ae-shim's lips curled into a knowing smirk, and she tipped her chin toward the market road. "That nobleman. Gone. You can breathe now."
Yun Yuhua's gaze darted to the window, and sure enough, the familiar shadow was absent. The place where he usually stood was empty.
"How did you...?" She trailed off, the truth sinking in.
Ae-shim's grin widened, mischievous as always. "Your eyes have been wandering all morning, Yuyu."
Yun Yuhua's cheeks flushed, and she muttered, "You're mistaken." But her betrayed flush only made Ae-shim laugh louder. The sound echoed through the room, and Yun Yuhua couldn't help but roll her eyes, the heat in her cheeks refusing to cool. She quickly turned on her heel and stormed toward the back room, needing to hide her embarrassment.
Once alone, she exhaled sharply, trying to push all the thoughts of Seo Ju out of her head. She focused on her duties, but the peace didn't last. Something stirred inside her, a restless feeling she couldn't shake.
Through the corner of her eye, Ae-shim caught sight of a figure at the entrance. Her smile vanished.
"She's back," she whispered, slinking toward the kitchen.
"Li'ai," she murmured to Qian'ai, who was ladling soup into bowls.
"Yes?" he responded, not looking up.
"That swordswoman—the one who kept hovering around Tian Ke—she's here again."
Qian'ai paused, the recognition settling in. "The one with the blade and a temper?"
Ae-shim nodded vigorously. "She's searching."
Qian'ai glanced at Tian Ke, who had just returned from a short break. He noticed the tension in Qian'ai's expression.
"What?" Tian Ke asked.
"Merchants' table," Qian'ai replied, handing him the bowls with a look that said more than his words. Tian Ke took the bowls and stepped into the main hall.
There she was—standing bold and uninvited in the center, her sword at her side and eyes scanning the room. He exhaled, patience thinning, and walked past her without pause. She stiffened but said nothing. He set the bowls before the merchants and gave a curt nod.
"Please enjoy your meal."
As he turned to leave, her arm shot out—sword drawn just enough to block his path.
"I wish to speak with you," she said firmly.
Tian Ke's jaw tensed. "If you have no intention to dine, then kindly leave. I am working."
He gently pushed the blade aside, but she reached for his sleeve.
"I said, make time for me!" her voice cracked, insistent.
Tian Ke narrowed his eyes. "Leave."
He yanked his arm free. But in a sudden fit of desperation, she unsheathed her sword and turned the tip toward her own neck. Tian Ke reacted without thought. In a swift motion, he slapped the blade aside and shoved it back into the sheath. Her hand trembled.
"Make time for me," she pleaded again, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Without another word, Tian Ke brushed past her and stormed out through the side door.
Yun Yuhua, emerging from the back with a tray, halted as Tian Ke passed her. The intensity in his stride startled her. When she looked up, she saw the swordswoman standing alone, tears threatening to spill. Yun Yuhua hesitated, then approached gently.
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked softly, her tone calm and unjudging. The woman looked up in surprise, catching the kindness in Yun Yuhua's eyes. For a moment, the fury in her heart wavered.
"She's… kinder than that cold-hearted fool," she muttered under her breath.
"No, thank you," the woman snapped, quickly wiping her tears before turning on her heel and leaving the inn in silence.
Yun Yuhua stepped quietly to the side hall, where Tian Ke waited in the shadows, his posture tense. She gave a small nod, her voice gentle.
"She's gone."
Tian Ke exhaled, shoulders loosening. "Good. I'll get back to work."
But Yun Yuhua caught his sleeve before he could turn away. Her eyes, calm yet firm, met his.
"Ke Gege… be kind to her. She looked troubled. Maybe she just needed someone to listen. Would it hurt to open the door, just a little?"
Tian Ke groaned, rubbing his brow in frustration. "Yuyu, it's fine that you're kind to people. But I'm not like you. She's a disruption—reckless and childish. I don't have time for that."
Yun Yuhua frowned, disappointed. "Fine," she muttered, letting go of his sleeve. With a sharp turn, she walked away.
Tian Ke remained where he stood, eyes lowered to the floor. He leaned his head back with a quiet sigh—her words, though softly spoken, struck deeper than he had expected.
Tian Ke composed himself, certain she would return the next day. But she didn't. Nor the day after. Or the next. Each day passed like a slow drip, wearing down his patience more than he cared to admit.
Yun Yuhua, ever observant, watched him with quiet amusement. The sight of her cold-hearted brother silently awaiting a woman's return—that was rare indeed. She chuckled to herself but said nothing, letting him linger in his own quiet turmoil.
Eventually, Tian Ke stepped closer to the market road, pretending to survey the crowd. But his eyes searched—subtly, restlessly—for even a glimpse of her. Nothing. He sighed, turning back toward the inn, resigned.
"Help!" a voice shrieked from the crowd. The thunder of hooves rang out, followed by startled shouts. A horse darted past the villagers, kicking up dust as it charged out of the village. Tian Ke turned—and in that instant, he caught sight of a blade.
That sword. Her sword.
Tian Ke's breath caught, but he didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, he seized his own blade and charged into the street, eyes sharp as steel.
"Da Ge!" Qian'ai called out from the inn's entrance, alarmed by his sudden sprint. But Tian Ke did not look back.
He wove through startled villagers, his pace unrelenting as he closed in on the galloping horse. Just as it passed, he leapt into its path. The steed reared with a shrill neigh, nearly unseating its rider.
The woman's eyes widened in fear. "You—move aside!" she shouted, voice trembling.
Tian Ke drew his sword and leveled it at the rider without a word. The man—no older than a youth—visibly faltered. He looked not like a warrior, but a coward. In the next instant, he released the woman and her sword, spurred the horse around, and vanished into the crowd.
Tian Ke made to pursue, but was stopped—arms wrapped tightly around him from behind.
"Let go!" he barked, turning his head.
"Leave him," the woman said softly, eyes shut tight. "I'm… I'm not hurt."
Tian Ke exhaled, the fire in him dimming. He sheathed his blade and gently pried her arms away, turning to face her.
"Are you alright?" he asked, voice more even now.
Tears brimmed in her eyes as she tried to steady her breath. "How could I be alright? I was nearly taken!"
He paused, brows furrowing. "But… you carry a sword. You're a swordswoman. Why didn't you fight back?"
Her face shifted, startled. "He had a sword too," she answered quickly, too quickly.
Tian Ke's eyes narrowed. "And yet, you drew yours against me without a second thought. I'm a swordsman as well, am I not?"
She froze—caught in her own contradiction. Realization slowly crept across her face. He had seen through her—and she knew it.
Tian Ke's jaw tightened. His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, filled with quiet disappointment. He had waited—perhaps too long—for her return, only to be met with deception. Without a word, he turned and stepped past her. Desperate, she reached out and clutched his hand tightly.
"I have my reasons… please, just listen," she pleaded, her voice trembling. Tian Ke halted. He exhaled, the image of Yun Yuhua's patient counsel steadying him. He turned slightly, his voice calm though strained.
"What reasons?" he asked. She looked up at him, eyes brimming with urgency—and hope.
"I… I need your help," she whispered, voice cracking. Then, in a breathless rush: "I need you to marry me."
Tian Ke froze, staring at her—his eyes a storm of disbelief. Slowly, he exhaled, a flicker of disappointment shadowing his face.
"My sister said you were dealing with something," he muttered. "But if marriage is your solution, then I can't help you. You'll only drag me into more chaos."
He turned without another word.
The rejection struck like a slap. Her heart thundered as she reached forward, clutching the back of his robe. "Please… do not turn your back on me."
Tian Ke stopped, his breath uneven. For a fleeting second, he considered—her voice trembling, her grip desperate—but duty pressed heavier than compassion. Slowly, he turned and gently unfastened her fingers from his garment.
"You are a noblewoman of Joseon," he said, his voice low but unwavering. "And I… am no more than a wanderer with no name, no standing. If I accept your proposal, it will bring nothing but ruin upon us both."
His gaze met hers—heavy with sorrow, yet unwavering.
"Forgive me," he said quietly, "but I am not the one fated to save you."
She stepped forward, desperation trembling in her voice. "Then let us flee, just the two of us. We need not look back. None shall know—none shall find us…"
Her words were urgent, raw with longing. But Tian Ke remained still, his silence laden with resolve.
"I am sorry," he said at last, his voice low but resolute. "I cannot walk that path with you."
With that, he turned away. The sting of his rejection echoed in her chest, but she followed, unwilling to let him slip from her grasp.
Back at the inn, Yun Yuhua stood just beyond the door, her hands folded, eyes fixed on the path. Seo Ju stood beside her, lips curved in that ever-present, unreadable smile.
"Is all well now?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement. Yun Yuhua glanced at him, offering no reply. Her gaze returned to the road—until Tian Ke appeared. Her face lit up with quiet joy.
"Ke Gege," she called softly. Tian Ke looked up, his expression warming—until his eyes settled on Seo Ju. The smile faded.
"Yuyu, inside. Now," he said sternly, in the tone of a brother who had endured too many surprises. Yun Yuhua laughed under her breath and took his arm as he approached—but paused, sensing another presence. She peeked past his shoulder.
"Oh… you're here as well?" she said, her tone polite but laced with hesitation. The swordswoman managed a faint, uneasy smile and nodded, unsure of her place. Seo Ju's gaze briefly met hers before he immediately averted his eyes and covered his face. Tian Ke, his expression stern, tugged Yun Yuhua inside to avoid further conversation with the swordswoman.
"Come," Tian Ke muttered, "We have matters to attend to." Without another word, he led her toward the rear.
The swordswoman, her brow furrowed, turned sharply toward Seo Ju and, with a flash of indignation, demanded, "What is your business here, Your Highness?!" Her voice, though measured, carried a strong edge.
Seo Ju's composure never faltered, even as the air thickened with unspoken tension. In one fluid motion, he reached out, his fingers closing around her wrist with an intensity that sent a jolt through her. Without a word, he pulled her into the shadowed alcove, away from prying eyes.
"Ji-nara," he murmured, his voice now stripped of the royal arrogance that usually cloaked it. The harshness of his title had disappeared, replaced by something quieter—more intimate, as if the words were meant only for her. "Why have you come?"