Honbul: Flame of the Soul

Seok Juryeon opened her eyes in a familiar room.

Staring blankly up at the ceiling through blurred vision, she realized she was in her own bedroom and slowly pushed herself upright. As she raised her unsteady body, the wet cloth resting on her forehead slipped off and fell onto the bed with a soft thud.

Seok Juryeon picked up the damp cloth.

“...”

It still held a faint trace of coolness. Proof that someone had been tending to her while she slept.

Without thinking, she touched her own forehead. Heat lingered against her palm.

Her head felt heavy and clouded.

After pressing a hand to her forehead for a moment, she slowly climbed out of bed. She could barely remember how she had gotten home. When she opened the bedroom door and stepped out unsteadily, she heard the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen.

As she followed the noise, the first thing she saw was the broad back of a man standing at the sink, a white shirt stretched tightly across his shoulders.

It was Yoon Taehee.

“You’re awake?”

Sensing her presence, Taehee turned his head and greeted her casually. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he cooked. Faced with the completely unexpected sight, Seok Juryeon fell briefly silent.

Now that she looked around, the entire house had changed while she slept. After a moment of silence, she slowly turned her gaze around the living room. The place, usually cluttered, had been cleaned spotless, and the laundry that had piled up had been neatly hung on a drying rack in the corner.

Living alone, Seok Juryeon had long since drifted away from anything resembling housework. Buried under endless work, barely able to breathe between assignments, she spent almost no time at home except to shower and sleep. To her, home was simply a place to collapse. Cleaning and laundry were usually handled by a housekeeper who came twice a week.

But today wasn’t one of those days.

Which meant Taehee had done all of this himself.

With his tie removed and the top buttons of his shirt undone, he looked far more relaxed than usual. Seok Juryeon stared at him, unable to understand why he was here.

“Why did you get up already? You should sleep more.”

Seok Juryeon narrowed her eyes slightly.

“...What happened?”

Taehee had been there when she collapsed. The moment he saw her go down, he had immediately carried her on his back and taken her straight to the Purification Unit.

The cause had been simple enough: exhaustion and stress. On top of that, she had been coming down with a cold. The verdict was that she needed to stay home and rest for several days.

“They said it’s overwork. If you rest a few days, you’ll recover.”

After her treatment at the Purification Unit ended, Taehee had brought the unconscious Seok Juryeon home himself. Han Juyoung had accompanied them at first, but Taehee sent her back soon afterward and remained alone to watch over Seok Juryeon.

“Why are you doing housework nobody asked you to do in someone else’s house?”

“I was bored.”

Taehee wiped his wet hands carelessly against his stomach and chuckled.

“And I was technically part of this household once.”

The house Seok Juryeon lived in now was the same house where Taehee had stayed for several years as a teenager. It was familiar territory for him too.

Ten years ago, when he first arrived here, Taehee had still been thin. Young enough that the immaturity hadn’t fully left his face yet. Back then, there had been something rough and unfinished about him.

Now he had the body of a fully grown man.

“That’s enough. Go home.”

“I’ll leave after I watch you eat.”

Taehee pointed toward the pot simmering on the stove.

“I made porridge. It turned out surprisingly decent.”

“I can eat on my own. Go handle your own business.”

She did not even have the energy to argue. Her head spun violently, and she no longer felt capable of standing. Seok Juryeon turned around and headed back toward the bedroom.

But as soon as she lay down again and closed her eyes, Taehee followed her inside.

Without asking permission, he sat on ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) the edge of the bed. The mattress tilted slightly beneath his weight. Seok Juryeon did not even have the strength to shove him away, so she simply kept her eyes closed.

A large hand settled against her forehead.

“You still have a fever.”

After checking her temperature, Taehee picked up the fallen cloth from beside the pillow. He dipped it into the basin of ice water waiting on the bedside table, soaked it thoroughly, wrung it out, and laid the chilled cloth back across her forehead.

“The porridge is almost done, so rest a little longer.”

When Taehee left the room again, Seok Juryeon slowly opened the eyes she had kept shut.

“...”

The time she and Taehee had lived together totaled about three years.

Although Taehee casually referred to himself as part of the household, looking back, they had never been close enough for a phrase like that.

‘My name is Yoon Taehee. I don’t have parents, and I don’t know how old I am. Put a leash on me and use me like a hunting dog. If I stop being useful, throw me away.’

Seok Juryeon remembered the sixteen-year-old Taehee.

Back then, Taehee — who had spent his entire life drifting through the streets — lived quietly, almost ascetically. He cooked his own meals. He washed his own clothes. Even when told he did not need to do chores, he always insisted on doing his share, saying it was easier that way.

Money was left on the dining table every day, but Taehee never touched it. Unless something was absolutely necessary, he bought nothing. At the time, Seok Juryeon had assumed it was simply the stubborn pride of a teenage boy, or perhaps an excessive awareness of being indebted to someone.

But looking back now, everything about it was strange.

Then Seok Juryeon suddenly realized something else.

In all the years they had lived together, she had never once seen Taehee asleep.

Whenever she came home, he had always been awake.

Sometimes she returned at dawn. Sometimes in the middle of the day. Her schedule was wildly irregular, yet every single time, Taehee would hear the door open, rise immediately, and come greet her at the entrance with a quiet “You’re back.”

Normally, someone in deep sleep would fail to notice another person coming and going.

But Taehee, back then, had always been alert.

At some point he had learned how to wear a mask, how to pretend to be relaxed, and she had forgotten that side of him for a while. But now that she thought about it again, Taehee had never once shown vulnerability inside this house.

There had also been one time when Seok Juryeon accidentally fell asleep on the sofa.

When she opened her eyes groggily, she saw Taehee standing silently in the dark, staring down at her with emotionless eyes.

‘Go sleep in your room.’

Even after being caught watching her, Taehee had spoken without the slightest embarrassment.

And for some reason, the moment their eyes met, Seok Juryeon had felt an odd sense of déjà vu. As if she had seen those eyes somewhere long ago.

But the vague familiarity that rose through her hazy memory vanished almost immediately, like an afterimage fading into smoke.

A few days later, Taehee left this house.

He had arrived here at sixteen. He walked out again at nineteen, the same year he entered the Office of Narye and earned the title of Chief Naja.

After diligently saving money every month since joining the Office, Taehee handed Seok Juryeon an envelope full of cash, saying it was payment for all the meals and lodging she had provided until now.

Without much emotion, he paid back the debt in a single day.

Then he left the house without looking back once.

Seok Juryeon had never expected closeness from him. Still, the moment she accepted that envelope, she felt his coldness for the first time.

At that moment, the bedroom door opened again, and Taehee entered carrying a tray with finished porridge.

“Eat before it gets cold.”

Seok Juryeon shook her head once.

She had no appetite. She did not want to eat.

Taehee raised one eyebrow shamelessly.

“Should I feed you myself?”

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

“...”

Chuckling despite herself, Seok Juryeon let out a quiet sigh and pushed herself upright. In the end, she reluctantly took a few spoonfuls. In the silence, the faint clink of the spoon against the bowl echoed softly through the room.

Taehee remained seated at the edge of the bed, quietly watching her eat.

Despite the lack of conversation, the silence between them did not feel awkward.

There was a strange sense of familiarity between them, the kind that only came from years of knowing each other. They were not particularly close, nor especially comfortable, but they had grown accustomed to each other’s silence. Neither found the other’s presence unpleasant.

After several spoonfuls, Seok Juryeon pushed the tray away.

“Eat more.”

She shook her head and lay back down.

“I want to sleep, so stop bothering me and go home.”

Taehee quietly left the bedroom.

As the door closed behind him, Seok Juryeon slowly shut her eyes again.

She knew that she and Taehee resembled each other in some ways.

But there was one crucial difference between them.

Taehee had never taken the hand Seok Juryeon offered him.

Seok Juryeon had accepted the hand extended by the director of the Office of Narye.

Yoon Taehee had not. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

And now, Seok Juryeon finally understood why.

She knew that Yoon Taehee was the master of Byeoksadan.