Chapter 53: Cracks in the Tranquility

Gangcheon watched Haeryeong urge the horse forward, then secretly kicked the horse’s flanks a few more times.

He was dissatisfied with the pace Haeryeong, whose horsemanship was still weak, was maintaining.

As the horse’s speed increased, both men lowered their upper bodies to reduce wind resistance.

The North Mountain Korean horse stretched its long, slender legs and galloped forward at high speed.

Normally, to lead a horse, one must be skilled at using the reins to change direction.

However, as Gangcheon watched closely, Haeryeong’s hands holding the reins remained centered and barely moved.

Realizing the horse was navigating the path and avoiding people on its own, Gangcheon rested his chin on Haeryeong’s shoulder and let out a chuckle.

Haeryeong, wondering why he was suddenly laughing, shifted his head slightly toward him.

Gangcheon merely pressed his lips against the man’s cheek as a substitute for an answer.

He pondered for a moment whether this innocence, knowing nothing of the world, would be a poison or a boon to the Empress.

“Hold the reins shorter.”

Seeing Haeryeong pull them tight as instructed, Gangcheon pointed toward a cart approaching from ahead.

“What must you do to avoid it?”

“To the left, ah, I must avoid it to the…”

“Then you must pull the reins to the left for the horse to turn its body; a light tug is enough for a small adjustment, but you must pull harder if you need to change paths entirely.”

When Haeryeong pulled the reins accordingly, the horse let out a rough snort.

It was as if the animal were telling him not to bother it while it was running.

Gangcheon burst into a hearty laugh.

“It seems the horse is leading you, rather than you leading the horse.”

Since it was a clever animal, it wouldn’t let Haeryeong get hurt, but Gangcheon wondered what to do with a man who was looked down upon even by a beast.

Haeryeong attempted to turn a few more times before puffing out his cheeks as if giving up.

Gangcheon simply laughed as he rubbed the man’s lower belly, which was exhaling a long sigh.

Thanks to their hurried pace, they arrived at Dorim Stream sooner than expected.

Haeryeong narrowed his eyes as he looked at the river stretching into the distance.

The sunlight, lowering toward the west, sparkled against the river water with a blinding brilliance.

“The weather is fine, and the shimmer on the water is quite lovely.”

The low voice in his ear had become far too familiar now.

It had reached a point where he wasn’t even startled when the man, who had been silent, suddenly spoke.

Haeryeong bit the inside of his lip, finding this change none too pleasing.

As the river came into view, the party slowed their pace once more and began to walk slowly along the bank.

Soothing a horse that had been running like mad was harder than expected, and Haeryeong was breakng out in a cold sweat.

Had the Emperor not been supporting him from behind, he likely would have tumbled off once or twice.

Though the man had been a cumbersome presence clinging to his back throughout the ride, he had indeed been helpful.

He had received enough assistance that he couldn’t complain even if the man “added it to his tab.”

It was not good.

Neither receiving his help nor becoming accustomed to this suffocating proximity was what Haeryeong desired.

When the Emperor chose to be tender, he was as sweet as a confection in one’s mouth.

Haeryeong hadn’t known this when he had never received such treatment, but now he knew.

He also knew that this tenderness always came with conditions, or that the man could turn cold the moment his whim vanished.

Yet, the human heart was a truly fickle and treacherous thing.

Sharing meals every day, drinking tea, kissing, and blending their bodies together had caused his guard to crumble bit by bit.

‘I must not do this,’ he thought, yet whenever the dawn turned cold, Haeryeong found himself burrowing into the man’s embrace.

Of course, he did not trust him.

Since he didn’t know what whim drove the man to frequent the Empress’s Palace instead of the Consort’s, he remained constantly suspicious.

He etched it into his mind over and over that this was a man who would return to the Consort’s arms the moment his heart shifted.

Yet, every so often, that boundary collapsed.

Haeryeong felt a surge of resentment toward himself for being so unaffected by the man’s voice.

He hated the man for ignoring him when he craved his heart, only to pretend to reach out now that he no longer needed it.

Unaware of Haeryeong’s inner turmoil, the Emperor remained pressed close, holding the reins of the Akhal-Teke and leading the horse.

Every time Haeryeong stole a glance back, the man was looking at him with a constant smile.

Each time, Haeryeong looked around the surroundings to avoid appearing as if he were dodging the man.

When he stared at the scenery as if he couldn’t bear how beautiful the river was, the man let out a soft laugh against his ear.

He didn’t even understand his own heart anymore—why that laugh made him feel like sighing.

What exactly did the man want?

And what did he himself desire?

He couldn’t be certain of anything.

The river appeared as wide and deep as the Emperor had confidently claimed.

Since Haeryeong had only seen the rivers of Yeonseo a few times, he was not in a position to judge which was truly wider.

‘Should I have agreed to decide based on documents? Will I be able to win the bet?’

Haeryeong cast his gaze over the broad river and let out a quiet sigh.

As they drew closer to the water, the current seemed faster than he had expected.

Though they said there were people who made a living by fishing, no ferry boats were in sight, likely due to the speed of the water.

However, he occasionally saw people fishing near the stone-paved embankments.

Even they were packing up one by one, seemingly intending to return home before sunset.

Seeing a fisherman approaching nearby, Gangcheon stopped and struck up a conversation.

“Your basket looks quite heavy. Did you catch anything?”

The man bowed his head to Gangcheon, who clearly radiated an air of authority.

He looked bewildered that a nobleman, trailed by a long line of subordinates, would speak to him.

“I only caught about a dozen crucian carp the size of a palm, sir.”

“A dozen, you say? The harvest is not bad.”

“It is the time after winter when they are frantically searching for food, so they bite whenever I cast a line.”

“Oho. Let me see. If they are to my liking, I shall pay you for them.”

The fisherman opened his basket with a reluctant air.

Inside, it was indeed full of carp slightly larger than a palm.

The fisherman bowed repeatedly.

“The ones caught at this time are thin and the flesh is soft, so they will not satisfy a gentleman’s eye, sir.”

“If you wish to buy fish, go further down and look for a rough fellow named Jo. I heard he caught a carp as long as a forearm today, so you should go to him.”

Gangcheon let out a soft chuckle against Haeryeong’s ear and asked the fisherman with feigned curiosity.

“Telling me to go buy from someone else… is that any way to do business?”

The fisherman gathered some phlegm and spat it to the side, grumbling in a gravelly voice.

“I cannot very well haggle with my life for a few coins, can I, sir? Better to return and put some grease in my children’s throats than to have my head fly off for selling such things to a high-ranking person.”

It seemed even to this man, the Emperor’s temperament appeared foul.

Though he didn’t walk around with “Emperor” written on his forehead, his intuition was remarkably sharp.

‘Is this not the sort of insight befitting a master angler who fishes for time itself?’ Haeryeong thought in silent admiration while Gangcheon let out a boisterous laugh.

“I like a man with keen intuition. Seok-hwan, settle the price of the fish with this man.”

As the fisherman stood flustered, unsure what to do with the fish in his basket, Seok-hwan stepped forward and tossed him a small coin pouch.

“We do not need the fish, but I shall ask you something instead. That pouch should be sufficient payment for a few questions.”

The fisherman gripped the heavy money bag tight and bowed his waist repeatedly.

“Of course, of course! It is more than enough. Ask whatever you wish, my lord.”

“I heard construction is underway on Dorim Stream further down.”

No sooner had Gangcheon spoken than the fisherman began to spill everything he hadn’t even been asked.

“You mean the work that started this month? Aigo, do not even get me started. Between that damn construction and having to perform forced labor every other day, life has been a misery lately.”

“Forced labor, you say?”

Gangcheon’s voice dropped an octave.

Noticing Haeryeong flinch, he wrapped the hand that had been holding the reins around the man’s waist and patted his lower belly.

The fisherman, being bowed, did not see the gesture, but Haeryeong could only swallow a sigh, unable to even push the Emperor’s hand away.

‘You truly have no shame.’

The urge to grumble was so strong that his throat felt parched with irritation.

‘When did I become so impatient? I suppose it is because I have become too accustomed to him.’

While Haeryeong was lost in thought, the fisherman poured out his grievances about the construction to Gangcheon.

“The Dorim Stream project happens every year, so we expected it to happen in the winter and were waiting for it, weren’t we? We thought we’d gather some of the barley they give as labor wages since there’s nothing else to do in winter.”

He expressed his fury, explaining how the work was delayed because of the snow and started late.

“Does it make any sense to start construction during the busiest farming season? Because of that damn work, the water became so muddy that we couldn’t even fish until a few days ago. And then it rained, so everything was a total loss! And that’s not all. They say they won’t pay us because the state hasn’t released the funds! They have just enough conscience to make us work every other day, but everyone is being dragged there against their will. Tui! That damn construction needs to end so we can actually make a living again, damn it all.”

The Emperor listened to his words in silence.

But why did Haeryeong’s back feel so cold?

Haeryeong suppressed the urge to look back and stared at the fisherman instead.

The man, whose gaunt face was dark and weathered, met Haeryeong’s eyes and hurriedly lowered his head in shock.

Realizing only then that he had become too heated, he began to bow repeatedly, breaking out in a cold sweat.