Passion Novel - Volume 6 - Chapter 138

Jeong Taeui was lost in thought for a moment, then glanced at the study. Inside, there were two people holding the key to his release. It was a door that wouldn’t open unless one of them yielded that key.

“It’s about time he left…”

The usual conversation had run its course, and it was time for Raman to leave. Jeong Jaeui handed him a note with the things he needed, and Raman, having received it, now only needed to exchange a few polite greetings and depart.

“……Don’t you wish to leave here?”

Raman spoke after a brief silence. It was the same question he had asked earlier. Jeong Taeui raised an eyebrow upon hearing his voice. He had never before asked the same question twice in one day. The fact that he was deliberately asking again meant that perhaps his situation was becoming urgent.

He didn’t seem to show any such signs, though.

“Thanks to your comfortable accommodations, I’m fine.”

Jeong Jaeui also gave a similar answer to before. “Is that so?” Raman replied, slightly slowly.

“Indeed, you must be less lonely now that your brother has come. You two seem to get along very well.”

“Yes, well… thanks to you.”

Hyung, your answer was a bit off again.

It wasn’t ‘thanks to him’ that they got along well, nor was it ‘thanks to him’ for imprisoning his brother too that he felt less lonely.

Jeong Taeui felt all the strength drain from his body. But soon, after a brief silence, Raman bid his farewells and left the study. Jeong Taeui got up and slowly walked towards the study. As he climbed the courtyard stairs, Jeong Taeui regretted not having risen a little later.

Raman, upon leaving the study, paused briefly in the corridor, lost in thought. When Jeong Taeui approached, he sensed his presence and glanced over.

Jeong Taeui winced, his lips twisting, and he slowed his steps.

He didn’t want to get closer. It wasn’t just his imagination. Raman’s gaze, fixed on Jeong Taeui, was as cold as ice. It was so chilling that he suddenly felt as if Raman might draw a knife the moment he approached.

But to stand still and face him would be even more awkward, so Jeong Taeui walked as slowly as possible.

“I heard you spoke with Regrow.”

Raman opened his mouth. At his words, Jeong Taeui stopped walking.

He had expected the news to have reached him. There was no way he wouldn’t have heard that he tried to contact the outside. Jeong Taeui, who had briefly looked perplexed at the mention of Regrow’s name, soon understood. If the number was still there, it was easy to identify the other party.

“I thought I told you that seeking external help was useless, but you did something unnecessary.”

“—. Well… just hearing a friend’s voice after a long time cheers me up.”

Jeong Taeui said with a natural smile, counting inwardly how much of his own words were true. “My ‘friend’ Ilay ‘cheers’ me up.”

Raman raised an eyebrow. And after pretending to think for a moment, he opened his mouth.

“Friend, you say. I see. Ilay Regrow and Ling Xinlu, was it? The ones who came to Seringe with you.”

“……”

“They are no longer in Seringe.”

Raman spoke calmly. And at the same time his words ended, Jeong Taeui’s face briefly went blank.

For a moment, he wondered if he had misunderstood the English. He had clearly said, ‘They are not in Seringe.’

Jeong Taeui frowned slightly. Unable to grasp the meaning of those words, he tilted his head for a moment.

He quietly counted on his fingers. How many days ago was it that he called Ilay? It hadn’t been that long. The monotonous days had continued without any change or peculiarity, so it wasn’t easy to count quickly, but was it three days, or four? It hadn’t even been a week yet.

“If they’re not in Seringe…”

Jeong Taeui started to speak, then closed his mouth. He looked up suspiciously at Raman, who was gazing down at him coldly, as if scrutinizing his expression.

He didn’t seem… to be lying. In that case.

“Did you intervene?”

“I? Heavens no. They left of their own accord. Ling Xinlu left a few days after you arrived here, so he’s been gone for quite some time now, and Regrow left three days ago. Ah. There was also a man named Yuri Gable. He took Ling Xinlu with him. I heard he needed someone to assist him because he was in no condition to move properly.”

“Huh? …What?”

Jeong Taeui blinked blankly, staring at him.

A faint smile-like expression briefly crossed Raman’s usually indifferent face. That chilling smile cut through Jeong Taeui’s chest like ice.

“There was a dispute between Ling Xinlu and Regrow. The reason, well, I don’t know that far, but I heard that Ling Xinlu was quite severely injured, to a dangerous extent. …Anyway, since they are people you won’t be able to meet for a while, I didn’t tell you, thinking it would only cause you pain to hear that your friend was hurt.”

He finished speaking with a subtle tone, as if he knew something more, but he seemed to have no intention of saying anything further.

“No, uh…”

Jeong Taeui blankly stared at his lips. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. His mind was momentarily tangled in complexity, unable to form a single coherent word.

—They are no longer in Seringe.

—I heard that Ling Xinlu was quite severely injured, to a dangerous extent.

It had been a few days since Jeong Taeui called Ilay. At that time, Xinlu had already been injured for quite a while. But Ilay had said nothing about it.

No, he could understand that. Ilay wasn’t the type to deliberately say that Xinlu was hurt, or that he was hurt because he fought with him. The reason for the fight was also the same. They had never gotten along well, and they could fight over anything trivial. Jeong Taeui could conjure up hundreds of reasons why they might fight, right where he was sitting.

However.

Was Xinlu injured? Why did Ilay leave? His mind couldn’t process the sudden information. Jeong Taeui stared blankly at him. Seeing Jeong Taeui like that, Raman smiled faintly. Only then did Jeong Taeui realize that Raman had said those things because he wanted to see his face like this.

Raman disliked Jeong Taeui immensely. Perhaps it was close to hatred. But why?

But now, such things didn’t matter.

“I… must leave, then.”

Jeong Taeui mumbled as if lost. Raman silently watched his expressionless face.

Narrowing his eyes in satisfaction, he then spoke calmly.

“That is regrettable. As I cannot grant it.”

In fact, thinking about it now, it was already too late, and might even be redundant.

It had been almost a month since Jeong Taeui came here. However, if Xinlu had been injured shortly after Jeong Taeui arrived here, then the conclusion would have already been reached by now. Either he had fully recovered, or he was still uncomfortable moving but had recovered enough to get around. Or, even in the worst-case scenario, a conclusion had already been reached. Nothing would change even if Jeong Taeui were to leave and investigate.

Nevertheless.

Jeong Taeui rubbed his mouth and chin with one hand. He couldn’t help the anxiety evident in his touch. “Dangerous extent,” he said, how dangerous was it? What about now? Is he okay? Or not?

Ilay had left this place. Almost immediately after finishing the phone call with Jeong Taeui. Where did he go after leaving this place?

“……”

Thinking about it yielded no conclusion. Instead, tens of thousands of conjectures arose, disturbing his mind.

His disturbed mind manifested in his fingertips. He nervously pressed hard on his fingers as he rubbed his lips.

He wanted to leave. Right now, he wanted to leave this place. Yet, he was trapped indefinitely. No, perhaps he could endure it for now. He could bear it if he stayed confined here for a few more days and then left. His reason was clearly telling him that nothing would change even if he left now.

However, the fact that he didn’t know when he could leave gnawed at his mind, burning it black with anxiety.

…Surely nothing major happened. If Gable had to assist him, it wasn’t a light injury. But anyway, if Gable was there, he would have prevented anything seriously bad from happening before it did.

…Please.

Jeong Taeui felt a sudden pain and frowned. He seemed to have been momentarily lost in thought. When he came to, he was gnawing at the second joint of his index finger. The skin was slightly peeled, red and swollen, and it stung. Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue.

“Calm down, Jeong Taeui. You know. There’s nothing you can do by being agitated. Calm down.”

Jeong Taeui thumped his chest. Above his heart, he hit it a little harder. But still, the thoughts that burned black in his chest did not cease.

Jeong Taeui sighed and stood up. Perhaps it was even more so because he had been sitting idly in the dark bedroom. He felt it would be better to just dunk his head into the central garden pond until he passed out from lack of air.

Jeong Taeui took a deep breath and left the room. But he was slightly surprised when he stepped into the corridor. The sun was already setting. Jeong Taeui looked at the setting sun with a somewhat bewildered feeling. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed. He had been sitting idly in the bedroom, lost in thought, without even noticing the passage of time.

“Honestly… I really need to pull myself together, Jeong Taeui. Calm down.”

Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue.

It wasn’t good. He knew well how detrimental it was to his mind to be lost in unsolvable worries, without even realizing or being aware of it. Without him noticing or realizing, distress would gnaw at his mind and make him sick.

Jeong Taeui again thumped his chest, a little harder than before, several times. Then, he suddenly spotted a familiar figure in the central garden. The person sitting upright by the pond, looking up at the sky, was Jeong Jaeui. In the twilight sky, dozens of birds were flying in flocks. He was watching the birds.

Someone seemed to be raising them. Someone residing in a building close to the detached house must have spent a long time taming wild birds by feeding them at fixed times. Accustomed to the food provided at regular intervals, the birds gathered there at twilight, circling as someone swung a long pole. A flock of birds circled, drawing a large circle in the sky. From somewhere far off, a wizened voice calling to the birds, “Whee!” could be heard.

Over Jeong Jaeui’s head, over the central garden, the flock of birds passed. The sounds of countless flapping wings mixed and swept overhead.

He loved that scene. Jeong Taeui also loved it, but Jeong Jaeui probably loved it much more than Jeong Taeui did. He always sat there at this time, waiting for them to pass over his head. For the sound of wings covering his head to sweep past.

He would undoubtedly not complain even if he were to remain confined here for his entire life. He could live as he wished, even in this place.

Jeong Taeui gazed at him silently.

He slowly approached the central garden. Jeong Jaeui must have heard his footsteps, but he didn’t turn to look at him. In this short period, which wasn’t that long, perhaps even in the time when he might have been circling the sky with the birds, he was completely absorbed.

Jeong Taeui sat a few steps away from him. And he too, listened to the sounds passing overhead. Perhaps it was a magnificent and refreshing sound, like thousands upon thousands of papers rustling, that swept over his head. Once, and then after a long pause, again. Occasionally, a haunting “Whee!” could be heard from beyond the sunset.

Eventually, the sun set. As the sliver of sun disappeared in a flash, darkness immediately enveloped the day.

Someone beyond the wall also went inside, and the birds scattered.

Only the sky, tinged with bluish-purple and slowly deepening into indigo, and darkness remained there.

“Your hair doesn’t look that long. It’s a bit longer than usual, but it doesn’t look messy. …Still, if we call the barber, I should ask him to cut my hair too.”

Jeong Taeui said suddenly, tilting his head and looking at Jeong Jaeui. Jeong Jaeui was still looking at the now empty sky, then finally looked at Jeong Taeui. Thinking about it, he hadn’t seen Jeong Jaeui since breakfast. It was because he had been in his bedroom all day.

Within this detached building, which wasn’t very large and had a limited range of activity, he usually ran into him several times even if they weren’t intentionally together during the day, but even so, it wouldn’t have been strange if they hadn’t met at all. Jeong Jaeui sometimes stayed in his room for days if he was focused on something, and Jeong Taeui wasn’t much different.

“Barber, huh…”

Jeong Jaeui murmured as if his mind was elsewhere. Hearing his words, which sounded as if he didn’t understand what was being said, Jeong Taeui added, “Ah.”

“I was going to the study this morning, but that man went in first, so I waited in the courtyard. Hyung, you asked them to call the barber, didn’t you? Said you wanted it cut short.”

“Yeah. That’s right. …Though I don’t know if I should have called him.”

Jeong Jaeui murmured quietly. Jeong Taeui looked at him blankly, then shrugged.

“You don’t want to cut it anymore? Then I’ll just cut mine. My bangs were getting annoying anyway.”

“It’s not that—”

Jeong Jaeui opened his mouth then stopped. And he looked intently at Jeong Taeui.

In the deepening twilight, Jeong Jaeui’s expression was calmly subdued. As if he had been lost in thought for a long time, and still was, he looked at Jeong Taeui.

“……?”

Jeong Taeui looked at him with a quizzical expression. He knew that look on his face. It was the face of someone who wanted to say something but whose thoughts weren’t yet organized. Or perhaps his thoughts were organized, but he was thinking about how to phrase it.

“…Why. Tell me.”

“Shall we leave, Taei?”

As Jeong Taeui prompted him with a nod, Jeong Jaeui spoke quietly without further hesitation.

Jeong Taeui closed his mouth. It would be more accurate to say he was momentarily speechless. He stared blankly at Jeong Jaeui, the smile fading from his face. He wondered, “Why suddenly?” in bewilderment, then quickly realized.

The conversation Jeong Taeui and Raman had must have been overheard by him as well. In retrospect, it was inevitable. The detached building itself was one open space. Even if there were doors or shutters, they served no purpose beyond mere division.

“…Do you want to leave?”

Jeong Taeui thought for a moment, then countered without answering. “Well,” Jeong Jaeui mumbled.

“I’ve never thought about wanting to leave, but I’ve also never thought about wanting to stay here.”

“Okay… Then shall we leave?”

“If you wish.”

Jeong Jaeui’s reply was concise. Jeong Taeui gazed blankly at him, then at some point, he subtly frowned and scratched his head.

“Leaving is good, but how do you plan to leave?”

“Well… somehow.”

Jeong Jaeui didn’t seem particularly troubled. Jeong Taeui stared blankly at him, then let out a small laugh.

Indeed, Jeong Taeui couldn’t recall ever seeing Jeong Jaeui troubled. While he might silently ponder when faced with a choice, “worry,” implying distress, was not Jeong Jaeui’s burden.

Thinking about it, it made sense; as far as Jeong Taeui knew, Jeong Jaeui was someone who didn’t need to worry about anything. Whatever he wanted was achieved in some way. What others would exclaim as a miracle and rejoice over, was simply routine for him. So, perhaps even now, if he wished, an earthquake might occur nearby, causing the walls to collapse, allowing him to walk out without any difficulty. Although he still couldn’t accept the fact that he was the one bringing him such luck.

“……”

Jeong Taeui smiled like a sigh, looking at him.

However, Jeong Jaeui’s luck didn’t come by simply expecting it. He always devised a way to achieve what he desired. And for that matter to proceed smoothly, was his everyday luck. Therefore, Jeong Taeui quickly understood why he brought this up.

“Hyung. Are you going to make weapons?”

Jeong Taeui asked quietly. Jeong Jaeui didn’t answer. He just gazed blankly at Jeong Taeui.

Jeong Taeui smiled calmly. A quiet sigh mixed with his smile.

“If you’re going to do something you don’t want to do just to leave because of me, you don’t have to.”

In truth, he wanted to leave. It would be great if he could leave this place right now. But he disliked the idea of forcing Jeong Jaeui to do something he didn’t want to do for that purpose. No immediate answer came from Jeong Jaeui. Instead, only an unreadable gaze approached him.

Jeong Taeui slightly frowned, unable to discern the meaning of that subtle gaze. Then Jeong Jaeui let out a silent sigh.

“You’re thinking a bit wrong. I’m not such a strong-willed person, nor am I bound by moral principles. If you don’t mind, I can make weapons. If you don’t dislike it and I like it, I can do it as much as you want. But that’s not the case, which is why I merely said I wouldn’t make weapons anymore.”

Jeong Taeui looked at him with a strange expression. For a while, he just blinked blankly, staring at him.

He wasn’t ignorant of what he was saying. To some extent, he could even understand. Surely, as he said, Jeong Jaeui had such aspects. His nature wasn’t inherently perverse, but he didn’t possess a firm and upright will either, and sometimes parts of his moral ethics could be found ambiguously blurred.

Jeong Jaeui, who had been looking at Jeong Taeui’s peculiar expression, quietly added.

“If you want to leave but think you’re staying here because of me, then I, too, want to leave here for you, even if it’s not what I desire.”

“…But in truth, you don’t want to make weapons, do you?”

“If I don’t care, then I’m fine. I just didn’t want to do it because you would dislike it.”

“…Hmm… …Well… it’s true that I don’t like you making weapons. But still…”

“Mmm,” Jeong Taeui frowned. He rubbed his now wrinkled brow with his fingertips, then mumbled weakly.

“You’re also thinking a little wrong, Hyung. I certainly didn’t like you making weapons, and I even wanted to pinch your cheek once when I met you. But… it’s not that I dislike you. That’s a separate issue.”

Jeong Jaeui was silent for a moment. He looked at Jeong Taeui with slightly widened eyes. Jeong Taeui looked at him and smiled bitterly. What, did you really not know? he thought. Then Jeong Jaeui smiled.

Jeong Taeui suddenly fell silent. His heart contracted with a sharp pang. When was it? Who said it?

—Perhaps it’s that Jeong Jaeui suffers more anxiety and anguish than you do. That’s what makes him human.

Yes. It was Ilay.

Perhaps he had seen something from the outside that Jeong Taeui, standing where he was, could not.

Every person had their own place. And from that place, there were things that could be seen, and things that could never be seen. And Jeong Taeui…

“……”

Perhaps he felt a little regret. He regretted a certain side of Jeong Jaeui that he couldn’t see. It must have been beautiful and poignant.

It was a side that no one else could touch, a burden he alone had to bear. That’s why he felt regret.

But.

He was content with his place. It was the most appropriate distance from Jeong Jaeui.

He liked such a position. He had never desired the closest position to anyone, for anyone. The most appropriate distance. Jeong Taeui desired that position, which differed for each person.

“If it were you.”

At some point, Jeong Jaeui opened his mouth. He, who had not taken his eyes off Jeong Taeui for a moment, quietly asked.

“If you were in my position. Would you then leave here, even if it meant making weapons?”

Jeong Taeui did not answer. He pondered for a moment. It didn’t take long to reach a conclusion. But even after finishing his thought, he couldn’t answer. Because he didn’t want Jeong Jaeui to follow that answer. And Jeong Jaeui, and Jeong Taeui too, knew that his silence was an answer.

—Shall we leave, Taei?

“Oh… yeah…”

Only after answering that did Jeong Taeui realize he was alone.

It was his bedroom.

“Oh…?”

Jeong Taeui murmured blankly again. “Huh?” He mumbled a third time, turning his head.

There was no one there. He had clearly heard a voice speaking to him just a moment ago, but Jeong Taeui was lying alone in the bedroom.