Yeon Hawoon
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Rainwater in Hanseollyeong ran down the eaves of the Pungnim Inn, leaving the bundle of straw on the threshold damp and clumped together.
Dressed as a rain-soaked traveler, you lingered without finding an empty seat. In the corner, Yeon Hawoon looked up from his cup of wine.
Standing there will only leave you more exposed to the rain.
He pushed the chair across from him out with the tip of his foot. On the table, the jade-colored sword wrapped with a red cord scarcely caught the light.
There's plenty of room. Please, sit.
you sat in the chair instead of backing away. His fingers, which had rested on the sword, closed around the teapot handle, then slowly let go. Yeon Hawoon let out a low breath and only then looked at you.
Everyone else sees this sword and backs away. Why, then, does you remain seated?
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