1440 - Chapter 11

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 11
Lost in thought, Yeon-su washed away the dust and sweat that clung to her skin, then retrieved the First Aid Box just as she had the night before, making her way to the man’s room.
The man seemed unbothered by the open door—he remained seated inside, the door still thrown wide as it had been that morning. When she closed the back door against the creeping chill and turned to leave, he lifted his eyes to her, still draped in her outer robe.
“If you’re cold, you can close it.”
She gestured toward the door as she spoke, and the man shook his head gently, as if to say it was fine. Then he removed her robe, folded it with care, and handed it back to her.
Even the way he folded the fabric held a quiet elegance. Yeon-su found herself drawn to the movement of his hands, and she quickly suppressed the feeling, snapping open the First Aid Box.
“Today I’ll need to clean your wounds again and apply fresh medicine.”
The man hesitated but did not refuse. Yeon-su took his hand gently and drew him closer to her.
He stepped forward on his knees, but then stopped—and his bare chest came within reach of her eyes.
Yeon-su steadied her trembling hands and untied the sash at his waist. She slipped her fingers beneath the loose robe and slowly unwound the bandages she had wrapped around him the day before.
Only the soft rustle of cloth against cloth echoed in the room. It should have hurt to remove the bandages from his wounds, yet the man made no sound of pain. He simply bowed his head, his face flushed.
As she unwrapped the last of the bandages, his skin emerged—pale and luminous as a pearl.
“The wounds have certainly healed more than yesterday.”
He’s healing faster than I expected. The man’s power of healing was real.
Was it Purification? The ability to absorb all the ill—curses, karma, murderous aura—into his own body and transmute it away.
“But doesn’t it hurt terribly?”
She was not asking about physical pain. It was sympathy for the long, arduous life this man had endured—all the suffering that came from drawing in others’ misfortunes and burning them away within himself.
No matter how stoically he bore his wounds, she could not imagine him free from pain. This was a body that could taste food, feel the warmth of sunlight. How could it escape suffering?
When her hand brushed his waist, he startled and tightened his abdomen. Until now he had remained unmoved as she cleaned his wounds, but this sudden reaction made Yeon-su lift her head in surprise.
He turned his face away, avoiding her gaze.
“What’s wrong? If this position is uncomfortable, we could try this instead.”
Not understanding, Yeon-su assumed he found kneeling difficult. She lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulder.
“Lean on me. I still need to clean your back and the backs of your thighs—just a bit longer.”
She wrung out the dampened cloth and worked it back inside the robe. His grip on her shoulder tightened.
His chest trembled slightly before her eyes. As her hand moved across his back, his body quivered faintly, and the peaks of his pale chest drew her gaze.
Against his porcelain skin, they were a soft pink, pointed and small—like a delicate pastry she longed to taste and dissolve on her tongue.
As an unbidden thought began to steal her focus, Yeon-su lowered her eyes—only to catch sight of him between his legs, at which point she squeezed her eyes shut.
‘This is treatment. I’m treating him right now. I don’t want to take him that way.’
Composing herself with this internal refrain, she carefully cleaned his wounds, then hesitantly ran her fingertips lightly across his skin.
The wounds had already healed enough that no medicine was needed.
“Does it not hurt anymore?”
She asked just to be sure. As she touched his arm, where only a faint scar remained, the man nodded. Then he quickly refastened his gaping robe.
His fumbling fingers seemed to work against him, so Yeon-su retied his sash for him, then gathered the First Aid Box, the brass basin, and the towels to one side.
“From now on, I’ll make sure you never receive wounds like this again.”
In-eum and Yeon-hyung won’t lay a finger on him—not if I can help it. There was much work to be done starting tomorrow.
11
As she released his waist, he carefully adjusted the front of his robe, tightening it until it was secure, then looked up at her as if to ask if they were finished.
His dark eyes looked innocent, almost childlike. The flush on his cheeks made it all the more so. A wave of guilt washed over her at the shameful thoughts she’d harbored only moments before.
“Not yet. Your fingernails and toenails look a bit long, so I thought I’d trim them for you.”
Yeon-su knelt on a white cloth spread across the floor, then reached for the man who had already settled onto the bed, gently taking hold of his foot. She drew his slender leg toward her and rested it on her thigh.
The man turned his face away again, clearly embarrassed. His white foot atop her dark trousers delicately curled its toes. Charmed by the gesture, Yeon-su found herself gently stroking his nails and toes. His toes suddenly splayed open in response, ticklish.
“Ha, ah—I’m sorry. You mustn’t move.”
It was exactly like a kitten’s reflex, and she couldn’t help but laugh. The man obeyed, and Yeon-su cradled the foot in both hands, beginning at the little toe and carefully trimming away the white crescent of each nail, one by one.
Though he kept his foot in place, she noticed him frequently reaching down to pull his robe closed, troubled by the gaps that kept opening.
Knowing that he was accustomed to serving others, Yeon-su found it both strange and endearing that, after having bared himself completely to her just moments ago, he should now worry about modesty.
She wondered what his standards were for what was and wasn’t acceptable, and she lifted his other foot onto her thigh. His small foot slipped across the smooth fabric, so this time she gripped it more firmly as she worked the nail clipper.
Snip, snip.
Between each clip, his breathing became audible—deliberately controlled, deliberately measured. The tension in his exhale made Yeon-su feel as though she were doing something terribly improper.
By the end, she couldn’t remember what had driven her hand. She maintained an impassive expression, finished the task quickly, and released his foot. He withdrew it hastily as well.
“There. Rest now.”
She’d forgotten to trim his fingernails entirely. Gathering the cloth with the clippings and the First Aid Box, Yeon-su fled the room like a fugitive. Behind her, she heard his breath escape—a long, relieved sigh. Her nape bristled.
What was she—some adolescent who couldn’t master herself over a mere sound? She was ridiculous. She laughed at her own foolishness.
Then again, in her youth she had already indulged her feelings, replaying the touch of those hands that had once cared for her, dreaming of that voice until she wet herself with desire. Her heart had never been pure to begin with.
Wondering if her wish to set the man free was merely another name for possession, she tidied the tools with a bitter taste in her mouth.
That man would likely recoil from anyone bearing the Baek Clan’s blood. And yet she had inherited half of that cursed lineage. Perhaps it was better—kinder—to let go of this one-sided love that could never be.
Afterward, she spent some time in the Buddhist Hall writing Talismans, settling her mind. Only then did Yeon-su descend the stairs again. She was still dressed in a white shirt and black formal trousers.
Rather than elaborate martial robes, Yeon-su maintained a simple, pressed formal style as her own way of paying respect to the divine.
And white was her preference by nature. Aside from a few pairs of jeans she wore when meeting friends, her lower half was always black, her upper half almost always white. She had loved white since childhood, and when her hair had turned white after the Shamanic Initiation, she had felt no great concern.
Yes, people stared at her more than before, but Yeon-su was the sort who paid no mind to others’ gazes. If anything, she found it suited her. Not that she’d admit that aloud.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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