Chapter 97
“Mmh.”
My hazy consciousness slowly surfaced above the water of sleep.
Is it already morning?
As I rubbed my gritty eyes and lifted my eyelids, a strange ceiling greeted me.
“……?”
This feels somehow familiar.
The experience of waking up in a place I’d never seen before was enough once.
I suddenly felt my heart sink and quickly sat up.
Then the thin blanket covering my body slid off with a soft rustle.
‘Slide off?’
“The blanket…”
I squeezed the blanket—its texture both unfamiliar and strangely comforting—with my hand several times, even rubbing it between my palms.
“It’s made of ramie.”
A ramie blanket in a medieval Western setting? I’d never heard or seen such a thing. The seed of suspicion growing inside me swelled larger and larger.
‘It would be ridiculous to think again that I transmigrated.’
I abruptly tossed aside the exceedingly Korean blanket and let my legs down…
“It’s not a bed.”
Indeed. I had risen not from a bed, but from a futon spread out on the floor.
Slowly awakening from sleep, I finally began to take in my surroundings.
Wooden pillars, a low ceiling, windows lined with hanji, a corner of the floor darkened black, a hard, high neckrest…
The items surrounding me were so familiar that my mouth gradually fell open in disbelief.
“Am I back?”
Did I escape from the novel? Is this really…
“Is this Korea?”
Thump, thump. My heart began pounding roughly. I stood up carefully, my trembling hands pressing on the floor, and cautiously headed toward the door. I forgot all semblance of calm. Without even thinking of recalling the moments before I fell asleep, I gripped the round, ring-shaped door handle.
“Please.”
Closing my eyes tightly, I offered a short prayer before pushing the door open. Even though I normally had no faith in any god, my desperation made me call on any deity.
Squeak.
The rusty hinges creaked as the door opened. Outside was filled with bright light. I bit my lower lip hard and slowly opened my eyes.
When the door swung open, I saw a gleaming polished daechungmaru (wooden floor), a dirt-paved inner yard, and a low stone wall marking their boundary.
It looked like an old tiled house one might see in the Korean countryside.
“Is anyone there?”
I slowly scanned my surroundings with my eyes, cautiously stepping over the doorstep. It had been so long since I’d worshipped a god in a room that I awkwardly stepped barefoot onto the polished floor.
The house was still silent.
“No one’s here…”
Just as I straightened my bent waist to pass through the low door, I froze in place. I had locked eyes with a man who was entering the yard through a low wall that barely reached the waist of an adult man.
“……”
Standing in an awkward posture, I maintained a deep gaze with the culprit responsible for this situation.
A silence as if even the flow of air had ceased enveloped us.
I carefully studied the man who wouldn’t even take his eyes off me.
Deep green hair and eyes, as if exuding the scent of pine needles. His long hair was tied back to one side in a traditional daenggi (traditional Korean ribbon), and his skin was a deep tone. Narrow monolid eyes, angular jaw.
Even from a distance, the man was an astonishingly handsome specimen. His tall stature and broad frame exuded a strong masculinity.
He carried such a sexy aura that any woman receiving his earnest gaze would blush.
But I could not blush easily. The reason was simple.
My desperate hope of having returned to Korea was shattered by that man.
Had I only seen his daenggi, hanbok, and distinctly Korean features, I might have thrown my arms around him and screamed with joy.
But the reason I couldn’t—or rather, wouldn’t—do that was…
Because from the moment we first met, his hair, a striking ‘green’ that clung to my gaze and refused to let go.
A hair color that could never naturally appear on a Korean. No, not even a Westerner could naturally have that hair color. It was a color possible only in the realm of the imagination allowed by a novel.
Thus, it became plainly clear that I had not truly returned to Korea.
That is to say, the place where I awoke was “Dongguk”—a fictional Korea from a novel.
“Haah…”
Leaving the man who still wouldn’t budge where he stood, I collapsed onto the daechungmaru.
My body, already heavy and drooping, was overcome by an immense fatigue as the hope I had so eagerly expected crumbled away.
With a long sigh, I sank down onto the floor, and finally the man began to move, stepping into the yard.
Thump, thump.
Barefoot, his straw sandals carried him in broad, swift strides right in front of me. His large shadow fell over me.
Owing to his bear-like height, I had to lift my head for a long while to meet his gaze.
Discussion
0 CommentsReactions
No comments yet.