BYBM Chapter 3 (Part 2)

Upon hearing that a Songal youth had thrown a bomb at Hyun Tae-oh, Yoo Hyun-jin felt the blood drain from his body. It was only after he heard, ‘There were a few injured, but Governor Hyun was not seriously harmed,’ that he finally felt some relief, but even then, his heart pounded furiously and refused to settle. It was said that incidents like this happened once or twice a year. This was the fifth attempt since Hyun Tae-oh had arrived in Pyeonghang. And even then, that was considered an improvement compared to the past.

……Hanaram.

The ceremony began, and all the priests took their positions. Yoo Hyun-jin stood at the far end of the platform and looked down, just in time to see Hyun Tae-oh taking his seat in the center of the front row.

On the surface, he looked completely unbothered.

Hyun Tae-oh sat with his usual cool, unreadable expression, his posture upright as he gazed toward the platform. Even when he exchanged a few words with the person beside him, even when he turned his gaze back toward the high priest, he looked exactly the same as always.

‘――The prayer of blessing.’

As the ceremony neared its conclusion, the high priest spoke. The ten individuals seated in the front row rose from their seats. They ascended the platform and stood facing the ten priests lined up before them.

Each representative of the faithful would receive a blessing in turn. Among those ten were Je Sang-ah—and Hyun Tae-oh.

One person stepped forward, then another, moving along in sequence. When Je Sang-ah stood before him, Yoo Hyun-jin took her clasped hands and recited the prayer of blessing. Every word of the prayer was predetermined. Every gesture was performed exactly as tradition dictated. He prayed for her—and through her, for all the faithful in the world.

She moved aside, and next in line, Hyun Tae-oh stood before him.

His heart pounded.

Expression unreadable, Hyun Tae-oh bowed his head and clasped his hands together.

Now, Yoo Hyun-jin was supposed to take his hands and recite the prayer.

But instead—

‘Are you hurt anywhere?’

The words slipped out, a hushed, rough whisper.

He wasn’t supposed to say anything other than the prayer. But his restless, uneasy heart spoke for him before he could stop it.

So quietly that no one else could hear—

A single, short, blunt question.

For a moment, Hyun Tae-oh did not react. Then, unexpectedly, he lifted his gaze.

He stared.

Expression unreadable, voice low, he finally murmured, 「No.」

Only then did Yoo Hyun-jin lower his own gaze.

And just as he reached out to take the governor’s hands, he saw it.

The burn.

Between the loosely clasped fingers, he glimpsed the raw, red mark on his palm.

By now, the other priests had already begun their prayers. Yoo Hyun-jin hesitated for only a second before quickly following suit. He took Hyun Tae-oh’s hands—and softly recited the prayer.

No one noticed that the moment he touched him, a faint glow formed over the back of Hyun Tae-oh’s hand.

They say that in the beginning, songs were born from prayers. Poetry, too, began as prayer. Songs and poetry are offerings to Hanaram— and in this moment, this was a plea, a prayer, offered for Hyun Tae-oh.

That he would not be in pain. That he would not be injured.

They say that if one prays with all their heart, at least one wish will be granted. And so, he had prayed. From the very first day he entered the seminary, he had never stopped praying.

He was glad to see him again.

Even after all this time—even after so long, his feelings had not faded in the slightest.

He liked him. He wanted to see him. He wanted to hear his voice. He wanted to stay by his side.

But in the end, all things must follow Hanaram’s will.

Even if he could never have him— Even if they must remain apart— He would always pray for his safety.

Hanaram.

Please, watch over this man.

He has spent his life walking through battlefields. Let him return unscathed.

And if— If there is something he deeply desires— Please, grant it to him.

When Yoo Hyun-jin finished his prayer and opened his eyes—

Hyun Tae-oh was looking straight at him.

As if he had been staring the entire time.

Dark, unwavering eyes locked onto his.

His heart dropped.

He quickly lowered his gaze, releasing his hands.

For a brief moment, Hyun Tae-oh did not move.

Then, at last, when the next person hesitated in confusion, only then did he step aside.

But as he walked toward the next priest, he abruptly stopped.

Glancing down at his own hands, a faint crease formed between his brows.

He examined his palm, expression puzzled.

And then, as if brushing the thought aside, he turned toward the next priest and stepped forward.

Yoo Hyun-jin quietly clenched his fist.

The burn that had transferred to his own palm remained hidden.

He gently took the next person’s hands—and began another prayer.

Throughout the vast temple, the voices of priests chanting in unison echoed softly.

The ritual ended without incident.

* * *

For some reason, Je Sang-ah insisted on staying an extra week, and so, even after his pastoral mission had officially ended, Yoo Hyun-jin remained in Pyeonghang a little longer. But in that time, he never crossed paths with Hyun Tae-oh again.

The position of Pyeonghang’s governor was already an incredibly demanding one, and after such an important event—on top of a terrorist attack—he must have been incomprehensibly busy.

In the end, it was only on the day of their departure, just before they set off for the capital, that he finally saw Hyun Tae-oh again. He had taken a brief moment to see them off. But overwhelmed by the quiet sorrow of parting, afraid that his emotions might show, Yoo Hyun-jin merely exchanged a short nod with him before quickly turning away and stepping back, keeping his distance.

As Je Sang-ah finished exchanging polite farewells, Yoo Hyun-jin traveled back to the capital with her. He felt as if he had aged a hundred years. Completely drained, he slumped in exhaustion.

Across from him, lost in thought, Je Sang-ah murmured, ‘It was a good place.’

‘Was it? Did you like it?’

At his question, she fell into thought once more, then slowly nodded.

‘Yes, I liked it. Enough to want to come back someday. What about you?’

Yoo Hyun-jin gazed out the window. As he watched Pyeonghang fade into the distance, he let out a quiet sigh.

‘Yeah. Me too.’

Then, closing his eyes, as if pushing the sight of Pyeonghang out of his mind, he offered one final prayer to mark the end of his mission.

A prayer for Hyun Tae-oh alone.

That he would always be safe. And that if there was something he truly longed for, may that wish be granted――

* * *

Although winter was in full swing, the sunlight streaming into the courtyard was as warm and soft as spring.

Inside the house, the robotic vacuum whirred as it moved about. Yoo Hyun-jin still wasn’t used to the sight of something sweeping across the floor when no one was there, so while it was running, he preferred to sit outside in the front yard.

The sunlight was warm, but the winter air was crisp. Sitting on a chair with his knees pulled up, Yoo Hyun-jin eventually shifted and lay on his side, resting against it.

Ever since he had been cast out of the temple and became an ordinary man, he had far too much time on his hands.

Back when he was a priest, his days had been tightly scheduled—waking at dawn for prayers, cleaning and organizing the temple, having breakfast, studying the scriptures, attending to visiting devotees, having lunch, meeting with more visitors, carrying out pastoral duties and public ceremonies, having dinner, and ending the day with more prayers.

Now, all he did was pray, eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and worry about the future.

And there was no shortage of things to worry about.

How was he going to make a living? What would happen to him now? And in the meantime, what if he was found out? And even if he wasn’t, even if things continued on smoothly, what then? The day passed in a blur of anxious thoughts.

For now, he needed to find a job.

Having lived solely as a priest, he had never once had to worry about money. Now that he was a layman, his immediate concern was survival. But what kind of job could he even get? He had spent his life in the temple and knew no practical skills useful for employment. Thinking that perhaps he could rely on a connection, he had thickened his skin and cautiously asked Je Sang-ah, ‘Would the Jeonghye Palace happen to need an extra hand…?’ only for her to snort at him dismissively.

Still, at least for now, the refrigerator was well stocked, so starvation wasn’t an immediate concern. What worried him more at the moment was—

“Why are you outside in the cold?”

“……”

This man had an uncanny way of approaching without a sound.

Yoo Hyun-jin slowly sat upright, like a ghost rising from the grave.

He hadn’t even heard the front gate open, but Hyun Tae-oh was already stepping into the courtyard. Seeing that Jin Mun-seong wasn’t with him today, it seemed he had no other business at hand.

“The robotic vacuum was too loud, so I stepped outside for a while.”

“Ah… Mun-seong is currently looking for someone to help with the household chores, so please bear with it for the time being.”

Glancing at the small machine busily roaming around inside, Hyun Tae-oh spoke as if he now understood the situation.

Now that he thought about it, Jin Mun-seong had stopped by a few days ago with someone from a home maintenance service and had mentioned that “someone to assist with the household chores should be arriving within a day or two.” But it had already been several days since then. Had something gone wrong?

“If I move to a smaller place, I can handle everything myself, so there wouldn’t be any need for that.”

“A smaller place?”

At Yoo Hyun-jin’s words, Hyun Tae-oh muttered absentmindedly. So he has no intention of letting me move. Just looking at his expression made it obvious.

Well, this was the same man who had first looked at this house and remarked, “It’s modest and not bad. It does seem a little small, but for someone living alone, it should be fine.”

How exactly one was supposed to make use of a two-story house with four bathrooms, eight rooms, and multiple living spaces when living alone was beyond him. But it was only a temporary rental, and not even one he had chosen himself. Besides, as if predicting exactly what Yoo Hyun-jin would say, Jin Mun-seong had smiled and said, “It was quite the struggle to find this place on short notice. If we had to look again, that would be quite the hassle.”

And with that, Yoo Hyun-jin had been left with no room to argue.

“You’ll only be staying until spring at the latest, maybe three or four months at most. There’s no need to go through the trouble of finding another house. Mun-seong put quite a bit of effort into securing this place.”

“But still, I—”

A gust of cold wind swept through, making Yoo Hyun-jin shrink into himself as he spoke, but before he could finish, Hyun Tae-oh had already stood up and headed inside. He even threw him a quick glance, as if expecting him to follow.

With no other choice, Yoo Hyun-jin got up and followed him in.

By then, the robotic vacuum had moved into the master bedroom, and Hyun Tae-oh closed the door behind it. Now trapped behind a soundproofed door, the little machine would be quietly sweeping away inside.

Just as he was about to sit down in the living room, Hyun Tae-oh suddenly paused. Ah, there’s no one else here, is there? Muttering to himself, he changed course and walked into the kitchen.

Even though he had only visited a handful of times, he already seemed more familiar with where everything was than Yoo Hyun-jin himself. With practiced ease, he began making tea.

“Ah, I can prepare that—”

“The tea I make tastes better.”

Before Yoo Hyun-jin could even step closer, Hyun Tae-oh cut him off.

It was true. The last time he had visited, he had brewed the tea himself, and it had indeed been better than Yoo Hyun-jin’s attempt.

In the end, Yoo Hyun-jin gave up and sat on the sofa in the living room, watching as Hyun Tae-oh moved about the kitchen with practiced ease. He brewed the tea skillfully, then casually opened the refrigerator—which had been stocked full by Jin Mun-seong—and selected a few light snacks to serve alongside it.

Anyone would think he was the owner of this house.

…No, actually, he was the owner of this house.

Hyun Tae-oh frequently dropped by without warning. Today marked the fifth day since Yoo Hyun-jin had moved in, and this was already the fourth time he had visited. It was frequent enough to be a little startling. But considering that the Hyun family estate was only a ten-minute walk away, that explained the frequent visits.

At least he never stayed long—he would sit for a short while before leaving.

Still, Yoo Hyun-jin had never expected to see him this often.

Hanaram, thank you.

Whatever the future held, for now, simply having Hyun Tae-oh here in front of him was enough to make him happy.

But as always, he had to keep it hidden.

Whenever Hyun Tae-oh visited, Yoo Hyun-jin made a conscious effort to say as little as possible, avoid meeting his eyes, and remain composed.

Meanwhile, Hyun Tae-oh would sit there, seemingly without reason, and then leave.

No.

Today, he had to say it.

Yoo Hyun-jin had been happily drinking the tea that Hyun Tae-oh had brewed for him, but then, abruptly, he set his teacup down with a decisive clink.

“I spoke with Se-jin earlier. My younger brother.”

At Yoo Hyun-jin’s firm words, Hyun Tae-oh, who had been savoring the scent of his tea, turned his gaze toward him.

“He told me that the room has been left just as it was and that I can move in anytime. And after thinking it over, I believe it would be best for me to move into his home. I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I’ll be moving out next weekend.”

Hyun Tae-oh sipped his tea as he silently observed him. It was as if he were taking his time to assess whether the brew had steeped properly. Only after swallowing did he set his teacup down.

“I dislike repeating myself. So, I would prefer if this topic never came up again after today. I’ll say this one last time. It would be unwise for you to do that.”

“It would be best if I did.”

Yoo Hyun-jin met his gaze with as much determination as he could muster.

“Se-jin is also urging me to move in with him. Besides, we weren’t particularly close to begin with, so I feel uncomfortable owing you this much. As a citizen of Jeyang, I have the right to live where I choose. I see no reason to follow your orders. I’ll be moving next weekend.”

He delivered his words in one breath, leaving no room for interruption. He had come to realize that conversations with Hyun Tae-oh required absolute conviction. If he showed even the slightest hesitation, the man would mercilessly push through. …Not that maintaining a firm stance ever really stopped him.

Once Yoo Hyun-jin finished speaking, Hyun Tae-oh finally responded.

“Very well. I suppose I should break this down into two points.”

See? He’s already gearing up to push back.

“First of all, I don’t see why you would choose to move into your brother’s cramped home and inconvenience each other when I’ve already secured a perfectly good house for you. We’ve had this conversation before, but since you insist on bringing it up again, I suppose I should consider another angle. Is there any reason for you to move three, even four times? If you move to your brother’s home, then return here, and then later relocate to the Hyun estate, that alone would be three moves.”

“If I move in with my brother, I won’t be coming back here—”

“And are you certain your brother will remain there indefinitely? He could be suddenly transferred to a faraway province.”

Yoo Hyun-jin flinched.

Something about the way he said that… felt off.

“…No, my brother received his assignment earlier this year. There won’t be any changes for the next few years.”

“Can you guarantee that? Are you absolutely certain?”

“……”

His voice was calm, his gaze unwavering. Yet for some reason, a chill ran down Yoo Hyun-jin’s spine.

And before he could even take the time to properly consider the implications of those words, the bulldozer came crashing through once more.

“And as for your claim that we aren’t close, and that it makes you uncomfortable to owe me…”

There, Hyun Tae-oh briefly paused. His piercing gaze held Yoo Hyun-jin captive before he tilted his head slightly.

“Aren’t we supposed to become close, Yoo Hyun-jin?”

“――.”

“By the way, have you given it any thought? How you’re going to address me?”

Yoo Hyun-jin closed his mouth.

Amidst all his worries, he had been shoving this particular dilemma to the back of his mind.

――I suggest you use a different form of address. …Call me whatever you prefer, Yoo Hyun-jin.

Until now, every time Hyun Tae-oh visited, he had managed to brush past the issue, dodging it with vague responses.

But at last, the day had come when he was asked outright.

Darkness flickered over Yoo Hyun-jin’s face, but Hyun Tae-oh only looked at him with calm amusement.

As if he were waiting to see what he would say.

Straightening his posture, Yoo Hyun-jin sat upright, as if preparing for a formal presentation in front of a superior. Then, with a measured, businesslike tone, he spoke.

“In regard to that matter, I have given it some thought.”

“Yes. Let’s hear it.”

“If you truly do not wish to be addressed as ‘Your Excellency,’ then perhaps I could use ‘Sir.’ It’s a term that maintains a degree of respect while being appropriately neutral for acquaintances who are not overly familiar.”

“……”

This wasn’t it.

He could tell at a glance—the faint warmth in Hyun Tae-oh’s expression had vanished completely.

“…Then, Hyun-nim.”

“Is there nothing else?”

He had cautiously tried calling him that, but Hyun Tae-oh didn’t even pretend to consider it before immediately asking again. With no other choice, Yoo Hyun-jin moved on to the next option.

“Well, though it’s usually used between schoolmates or colleagues, if we expand it to encompass life as a whole, ‘Seonbae-nim’ might also work. Hyun Seonbae-nim.”

“……”

No, that wasn’t it either.

His lips curved slightly in a smile, but no matter how you looked at it, that wasn’t a real smile.

“…Or, since we are all brothers under Hanaram, I could call you Hyeongje-nim.”

“That, I will permit—if we are within the temple.”

Yoo Hyun-jin pursed his lips in disappointment. That left almost no options.

Hyun Tae-oh leaned back, crossing his arms as he gazed at him, patient but expectant. Yoo Hyun-jin glared at his teacup before finally speaking.

“…Hyun Tae-oh… ssi.”

“I have never been addressed with ‘ssi’ by anyone younger than me. In fact, even those older than me rarely call me that.”

His gaze cooled slightly as he responded.

After a long silence, Yoo Hyun-jin opened his mouth again.

“…Hyun Tae-oh, hyeo—”

No. Absolutely not.

His mouth hung open for several seconds before he ultimately clamped it shut.

And yet, Hyun Tae-oh simply continued watching him, utterly unbothered, as if waiting for him to go on.

“…Please give me more time. I’ll reconsider and think more deeply about it.”

At his muttered surrender, Hyun Tae-oh, his gaze narrowed, nodded magnanimously.

This wasn’t right. He had to say it.

Today was the day. He had to clearly state that he was moving out and into his brother’s house. He had to settle this once and for all.

…But judging by the atmosphere, that wasn’t going to happen.

It wasn’t working. Not in the slightest.

If he pushed any harder, it felt like he would end up paying for it twice over.

――No! Get out of there right now and move into my place! You need to keep your distance!

It was almost as if he could hear Yoo Se-jin yelling in his ear.

That day, when Se-jin had come to help him pack, Yoo Hyun-jin had confessed everything about his potentially bleak future—including the looming threat of being sent to Hancheon Prison.

Se-jin had sat in stunned silence until his fingertips went cold, and when he finally spoke, his face was just as pale, his voice trembling.

“I-I… I’ll be fine, really! If it’s for you, I can handle going to prison! So, you don’t have to keep this a secret! I can take it!”

“I can’t! I won’t go!”

“Exactly! You can’t! You mustn’t!”

His younger brother had immediately shouted in agreement—only to falter, his voice breaking.

“…Actually, I don’t think I can go either…”

Tears had welled up in his eyes as he panted anxiously.

In the end, after a long, silent deliberation, the two brothers had come to a conclusion—

They could not reveal the truth.

Se-jin, who had been sobbing in distress, had wiped his tears and made him promise.

Keep your distance.
No matter what, maintain your distance.
As much distance as possible.
Under no circumstances allow any situation that might expose the truth.

That was why he had been hounding him over the phone—yesterday, today, and every day since.

Move out. Get out of that house and come stay with me.

But at this rate, if he blindly insisted on leaving, things would only escalate.

With a heavy sigh, Yoo Hyun-jin sipped his tea.

Through the living room’s glass doors, the courtyard glowed under the bright sunlight—completely indifferent to his turmoil.

It was a beautiful garden.

In fact, the moment he first set foot in this house, he had taken a liking to it because of that garden.

Even Hyun Tae-oh had noticed, watching him quietly before remarking, “You seem to like it.”

It must have been painfully obvious.

If only he could accept this situation without worry.

If only it were truly as it appeared to be—if the false narrative that had been fabricated were actually the truth.

If only it were real.

As he swallowed another sip of tea, his chest felt hollow.

“I received a great number of inquiries recently.”

Out of nowhere, Hyun Tae-oh spoke.

Yoo Hyun-jin lifted his gaze from his teacup, puzzled.

“It was an incident that caused quite a stir, after all. I expected many people to reach out, but I also received quite a few calls from people specifically expressing concern for you.”

“…For me?”

“Yes. A number of priests, some from the royal family… Even my brothers. And my mother.”

“…Ah.”

Yoo Hyun-jin’s expression darkened.

Come to think of it, he had received a message from the Prime Minister’s wife—Hyun Tae-oh’s mother—not long ago.

She had asked to meet him soon.

The date hadn’t been set yet, but just the thought of it made his stomach churn with dread.

He had spent years under the Hyun family’s roof.

He had never been particularly close with the governor’s older brothers, but they had gotten along well enough.

Se-jin, on the other hand, had been especially close with them, calling them ‘Hyungnim’ without hesitation.

And the Prime Minister’s wife… she had always been kind to both of them.

…And yet, it had come to this.

He had never intended for this to happen.

But now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had betrayed their kindness.

“I was surprised. You actually have quite a good reputation.”

Hearing those words, Yoo Hyun-jin, who had spent his entire life trying to live virtuously, felt mildly offended.

“Why is that surprising?”

“Being good at one’s work and being good at handling relationships are two separate things, aren’t they?”

“And why would you assume my interpersonal relationships are poor?”