Joseon Idols

 

“Will you promise not to disclose what you’ve seen today?”

 

“……”

 

“I could punish all three of you here and now, but since I can’t keep killing everyone…….Here, take this 100 nyang.”  

 

“……”

 

“Conduct yourself properly so I won’t hear any rumors about this.”  

 

I picked up the dirt-stained bundle of coins and tossed it right back at the magistrate’s feet.  

 

“Are you threatening to kill us right now?”  

 

“What did you just say?”  

 

“Oh, I’m so scared! Someone, tell me I misheard! Or is there a lord above you, Magistrate, who taught you this trick?”  

 

“You insolent wench…”  

 

“Should I spread the story tomorrow? I run a tavern, remember? Imagine the talk when the people hear how you throw your weight around over commoners.”  

 

Finishing my sentence, I took a deep breath. Whenever someone like him showed up, I struggled to rein myself in.  

 

“This servant is coming with me. We’ll live quietly, and you won’t hear a word about this again. And let me be clear—this boy is not a thing to be bought or sold, so keep your filthy money.”  

 

The magistrate froze, his face blank with astonishment.  

 

Yes, that’s right. I can imagine just how much you’ve been abusing your power all this time.  

 

“If I were married to someone like you, I’d be tempted to have an affair too. That’s my conclusion from what I’ve seen today. Let’s just agree to go our separate ways, as if nothing happened.”  

 

“……”

 

“Oh, and for your information, maybe she’s too good for you.”  

 

I knew it was my cue to leave before the magistrate could explode in anger. Grabbing the last tattered remnant of fabric clinging to Byeolho’s body, I dragged him toward the doorway.  

 

“You- You wretched girl! I’ll have you punished by tomorrow!”

 

The magistrate bellowed, his voice cracking with rage.  

 

“If you don’t want to be humiliated, keep your mouth shut and stay put. Unless, of course, you’d like me to go around spreading all the dirty little secrets of your household—starting with what happened tonight. Do you think you’ll be able to show your face in public after that?”  

 

I stole a glance back. The magistrate stood there, shaking with fury, but he still bent down to retrieve the coins from the ground, brushing them off meticulously. Not a single trace of concern for his wife’s humiliation or tonight’s fiasco crossed his face.  

 

Money and reputation—those were the only things that mattered to him.  

 

Over his shoulder, I caught sight of the two trembling figures who had just been on the verge of a scandal. They clung precariously to their shaky positions, like people teetering on the edge of a cliff.

 

I quickly ushered Byeolho away from the chaos. 

 

I didn’t think it was a loveless marriage.

 

I hadn’t expected the magistrate to be so detached, utterly unaffected by his wife’s supposed betrayal. While everyone gossiped about how pitiful he was, the real tragedy seemed to rest with the lady of the house. Bound by the shackles of a hollow marriage, she wasn’t a villain—just another victim of circumstance.  

 

When we reached the tavern, Byeolho finally broke his silence.  

 

“Well, you might not know this, but I already knew.”  

 

“Knew what? That they’re a show-window couple?”  

 

“What’s that mean? I’ve never been to a learning hall, you know.”  

 

“Oh, uh, it means a couple that only pretends to love each other for appearances.”  

 

“Yeah, that fits. She’d complain to me all the time, but I’d just ignore it. People’s hearts don’t show on their faces. Everyone’s just muddling through life the best they can, right?”  

 

Byeolho’s words carried a surprising weight. For someone so simple on the surface, he had a knack for grasping the complexities of life. It reminded me of the countless times his introspective lyrics had elevated Eternal’s songs.  

 

A wave of relief washed over me, knowing I’d managed to keep him safe.  

 

Byeolho glanced at me shyly.  

 

“So, uh, what’s my name now?”  

 

“What name? You’re Jjangdol, aren’t you? Jjangdoooooool.”  

 

I burst into laughter, and his ears flushed a vivid red.  

 

“Ugh, I told you I hate that name. Just don’t call me anything if that’s all you’ve got!”  

 

Smirking, I bent down and sketched a rough doodle in the dirt—a stick figure singing into a microphone. It looked nothing like him, but I didn’t care.  

 

“Doesn’t this ring a bell? A stage, the spotlight? You know you were a superstar in your past life, right? You remember, don’t you?”

 

The boy tilted his head, visibly puzzled.  

 

I even mimicked singing with a spoon, trying to jog his memory, but he just shook his head.  

 

“I don’t have any memories like that, even if I could eat them and die trying.”  

 

I bit my lower lip in frustration.  

 

“Do you just eat your memories, too?”  

 

There was no point in smacking his back—it would only hurt my hand. Regardless…  

 

Even if he had lost all his memories, the fact that fate had brought us together here again meant something.  

 

It was only right to give him back his name.  

 

“Byeolho.”

 

“You’ve been calling me Byeolho, Byeolho since the moment we met. What does it even mean?”  

 

“It means ‘a tiger with extraordinary strength.’ It was your nickname as a kid. Or something like that.”  

 

“Whoever named me must’ve never seen a tiger. They’d wet themselves if they did.”  

 

He really had become purer, almost childlike.  

 

I shook my head at his words, but something hot and overwhelming stirred deep within me.  

 

It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced since my time in prison.  

 

The feeling of finding a piece of the family I thought I’d lost.  

 

I’d met a fragment of Eternal.  

 

***

 

The next morning, the village was abuzz with grim news.  

 

The Magistrate had been found stabbed to death during the night, and no one knew who the culprit was. Both Goatbeard and the madam had vanished without a trace.  

 

The eerie sound of rain falling throughout the night now felt like a prelude to the chilling news. I shivered as the unsettling whispers circulated.  

 

Byeolho, who was helping carry bowls of soup, shuddered visibly.  

 

“Ugh, I could’ve sworn I heard someone outside last night calling, ‘Jjangdol, Jjangdol.’ Over and over.”  

 

I smirked and teased him.  

 

“So, did you pop out and say, ‘Here I am!’ like a good boy?”  

 

Byeolho grimaced, clearly annoyed.  

 

“No. I locked the door tight and went to sleep, just like I was told.”  

 

I nodded in understanding. If it had been that woman, she might’ve come to this place for one last look at Byeolho. 

 

“Looks like you’ve got yourself an admirer, Byeolho.”

 

His face flushed, but he didn’t respond. It seemed even he wasn’t immune to being the center of someone’s affection, however complicated or fleeting it might’ve been.  

 

As I continued to tease him, Byeolho scowled deeply, balancing a tray of soup bowls as he headed out to the courtyard.  

 

Sure, having two people working together made things easier around the tavern, but lately, an odd phenomenon had emerged.  

 

When the place used to be filled with rowdy men, now it was crowded with women—wives and daughters lingering at the tables, giggling and chatting while pretending to sip soup. All thanks to that boy.  

 

I watched his broad back as he moved away.  

 

That tattered, threadbare outfit of his.  

 

Right. It was practically no better than being half-naked.  

 

It was like watching a living statue of David, carrying soup bowls while partially unclothed.  

 

What a waste of talent. An undeniable waste of human resources.  

 

I hurriedly rummaged through the storage room for something to clothe him in, but nothing suitable came up. Fortunately, a drunken patron had abandoned some clothes recently, though they looked a bit too small for Byeolho’s frame.  

 

Considering how enormous he was, it was clear we’d have to head to the market and get something tailored for him.  

 

How could someone with that kind of physique walk around so casually in rags, oblivious to the stares he was drawing?  

 

If it were me, I’d have thrown on anything just to avoid the constant gawking.

 

Back in Seoul, a city rumored to be colder than Russia, this heat-radiating guy would walk around in short sleeves even in the dead of winter.  

 

“Ah, I’m fine, really! It’s not like it’s gonna last long anyway.”  

 

“The more you spend, the better the quality. And I’m not making you do hard labor, am I? If you tear this, you’ll be in trouble.”  

 

Byeolho, grumbling at first, quickly lit up like a sparrow spotting a grain mill the moment we stepped into the market.  

 

He stopped at every rice cake shop or fruit stand, staring longingly at the food as if it were the most mesmerizing sight in the world. How could I not buy him something?  

 

Not only were his cheeks stuffed full, but his hands were now overflowing with bags. Just looking at him was enough to make me feel full myself.  

 

We went to a fabric shop to roughly measure his size, and the shopkeeper chuckled in disbelief.  

 

“For most folks, this much fabric would be enough for two or three outfits.”  

 

“I agree.”  

 

Byeolho, munching on a rice cake, looked at me and the shopkeeper with a confused, innocent expression as if he had no idea what we were talking about.  

 Hi everyone! It's Flo here!

I usually translate BLs but I wanted to try something new and it's very interesting and fun for me to read so I hope you guys enjoy it too! The chapters will be updated every Thursday!

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