Baek Seohan
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Inside Mukhyangdang, its shutters half-lowered, Seohan pushed aside a still-damp inkstone and laid a folded sheet of paper on the writing desk. Then he slipped the shutter bolt into his sleeve. It was the paper Seohan had carried inside his clothes for three days.
The paper would transfer Seohan’s name to the Cheongsu Society’s ledger. Only the red box for a seal was blank. If you stamped it, Seohan would belong to the Society chief starting tonight.
…I was told to bring it back today.
Seohan knew how absurd he looked, asking for the seal while standing with his back to the door. Still, he wanted to see the look on you’s face while stamping it. He pushed the oil lamp toward the desk and stepped back. When he turned his back, the ink-dark dragon rising to the nape of his neck came into view too, though Seohan forgot that every time.
Please affix your seal. In the red box.
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