At the exit of the Gwanghogun military camp.

After spending a night in Yeonwoo’s barrack, Choa had packed her belongings and was ready to leave. She bowed deeply to Yeonwoo and Daebok, who had come to see her off.

“I am grateful for your help during my short stay. I will not forget this kindness.”

“Be careful on your way. I hope you pass the exam!”

“Thank you, Yeonwoo.”

Choa smiled brightly at Yeonwoo’s encouragement. Daebok, on the other hand, blushed as if she had smiled just for him.

As Daebok remained awkwardly silent, avoiding eye contact, Yeonwoo nudged him in the ribs, urging him to say something. Daebok finally managed to speak up, albeit hesitantly.

“Take care on your journey, Miss.”

“Thank you, Daebok.”

Yeonwoo sighed, disappointed at Daebok’s lackluster farewell. It seemed time for Yeonwoo to take matters into his own hands.

Yeonwoo got straight to the point. “Miss Choa, do you have someone you’re seeing or someone you’re fond of?”

His plan was to suggest she meet Daebok if she said no.

Choa looked flustered at the question but shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

She then shyly looked down and asked Yeonwoo, “Do you have someone?”

“Me? No, not really…”

“Someone you’re fond of?”

“Not really.”

Choa seemed relieved at his answer and smiled warmly. She then unexpectedly pulled out a willow branch and offered it to Yeonwoo.

“A gift for you. It’s modest, but please accept it.”

“Why a willow branch?”

“Because…”

“Wait, Miss!”

Despite Yeonwoo’s call, Choa quickly left the scene. Yeonwoo, left with the willow branch, didn’t get a chance to ask what it meant or if she had any thoughts about Daebok.

He looked at the receding figure of Choa. “Miss Choa seems to be in a hurry. She didn’t even stop when I called.”

Then, turning his attention to the willow branch, he mused, “Willow branches are everywhere. Why give me one?”

Yeonwoo was puzzled by the meaning of the willow branch, which wasn’t clear to him.

Daebok, with a look of despair, gazed at the branch in Yeonwoo’s hand and then broke into a half-hearted laugh.

“Don’t you know the meaning of a willow branch? It’s often given to a loved one at parting, symbolizing the hope of being remembered despite the distance.”

Yeonwoo paled at Daebok’s explanation.

“So, the reason Miss Choa gave me this branch is…”

“You’re popular, Yeonwoo. Ha, ha.”

Daebok laughed as if he had lost his senses. Choa giving Yeonwoo the willow branch was akin to an indirect confession.

“Are you okay, Daebok?”
“Then, I’m perfectly fine. If not, why would I be laughing like this! Ahahaha!”

Yeonwoo, bewildered, broke into a sweat. He only wanted to help Daebok, but it seemed he had only caused more trouble. Feeling guilty about the unintended consequences, he nervously glanced at Daebok.

At that moment, Daebok, who had been laughing soullessly, lifted his head and gazed at the sky.

“Hahaha! Look, it’s raining.”

“What? What are you talking about? The weather is so clear; how can it rain?”

“It’s raining right here! Can’t you see?”

Yeonwoo looked up, but the sky was cloudless and sunny. He couldn’t understand what Daebok meant by rain.

“Why isn’t everyone seeking shelter? It’s pouring rain!”

Soon, Yeonwoo realized that the rain Daebok mentioned wasn’t literal. It was probably a metaphor for the rain in his heart.

Unable to offer any consolation, Yeonwoo simply patted Daebok’s shoulder. It was a day of drizzling showers in Daebok’s heart.

In a pavilion located leisurely deep within the royal garden.

Surrounded by flowers in full bloom and a harmonious pond, the pavilion was a picturesque scene. Musicians filled the air with beautiful music, and elegant dancers fluttered like butterflies to the rhythm.

On the lavishly set table were exquisite delicacies and wines that only those of high status could afford, making for a truly celestial scene.

The protagonist of this feast, Prince Hwan, sat in the pavilion. Though he seemed poised to enjoy the leisure, discomfort marred his face.

Suddenly, a cold wind uncharacteristic of summer blew through the pavilion, halting the musicians and dancers. Prince Hwan also paused, hand halfway to his mouth with a cup of wine.

Lifting his head, he noticed a visitor.

His thin eyes softened into a gentle curve.

“Gwanghogun, have you been well?”

Gun, who had silently approached, leaned against a pavilion pillar, eyeing Hwan.

Though Hwan had invited him, the atmosphere suggested the guest was unwelcome.

“Please, have a seat.”

“When have we ever shared a drink together?”

As Hwan smiled gently and invited him to sit, Gun cut him off sternly.

“Just state your business.”

Hwan, unfazed by Gun’s blunt response, maintained a calm smile. He turned slightly and gently spoke to the courtiers.

“Leave us.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

As the courtiers retreated like a receding tide, only Hwan and Gun were left.

Hwan moistened his lips with the wine, then broached the subject.

“This year, over 140 people in Hanyang have been eaten by tigers. The rumors of tigers in the capital are causing unrest.”