Chapter 5
“Huff.”
Yoo-eun gasped, snapping her eyes open and sitting upright in bed. She was briefly disoriented by the unfamiliar room, but soon realized this was the annex of Geumseongdang.
“A dreamā¦”
She swept her fallen hair back.
“Maybe it’s because I’m sleeping in a new place. I had a dream I don’t usually have.”
It was still dark outside the paper sliding door, so she tried to go back to sleep, but instead felt wide awake. In the end, she threw on a cardigan and stepped outside.
There was a scholar in the yard.
“Scholar?”
Despite having been provided with sleeping clothes, the neat-looking man, still wearing hisĀ gatĀ (traditional hat), stood in the small rear garden.
“What brings you out at this late hour?”
“That’s what I’d like to ask you, Scholar.”
“How could Iā Ah, I suppose I am an uninvited guest.”
The man, as if realizing something, stepped up onto the wooden veranda.
“You don’t have to come inside. This kind of thing is normal here.”
It wasn’t common for a man and woman who barely knew each other to be together in the same space at midnight, but Yoo-eun glossed over it.
Seeing Yoo hesitate before finally perching on the veranda, Yoo-eun’s mind was filled with curiosity about his identity.
Second rule of Geumseongdang:
Do not try to learn about the subject who has come from another time and space.
The reason was that if you grew close to the subject and learned about them, you might feel compelled to help them.
Since modern people must not interfere with the byproducts of history that has already ended, it was best to keep one’s distance from the start and not try to find out.
No one had ever appeared whose identity was worth asking about, so this rule had never been highlighted until now.
Yoo-eun glanced at the refined scholar, her brow furrowing. The more she looked, the more she wondered.
Considering the man’s attire and speech, he was a condemned prisoner being transported, yet the noble fragrance that seemed ingrained in him and his composed demeanor suggested he was not of low birth.
Moreover, despite likely feeling confused and flustered, he rarely let his emotions showāso he was probably a descendant of a prestigious family.
If so, he should be easy to find in history booksā¦
“Is there truly no way of knowing when I might return?”
Yoo-eun shook off her stray thoughts at the sudden question aimed at her.
“Wellā¦ everyone eventually returns, at some point.”
“Do you know exactly when that will be?”
Yoo-eun recalled the animals that had come to Geumseongdang in the past.
“As far as I know, the shortest was half a day, the longest about half a year.”
“Oh dear, half a yearā¦”
The scholar sighed, and Yoo-eun inwardly hoped it would never take that long.
Still, thinking of him as someone who would eventually disappear lightened her heart, so she offered a word of consolation.
“Think of it as taking a rest.”
“I have no time for rest. I amā¦”
Seeing his neat white teeth bite his red lips, she almost absentmindedly asked what was wrong.
Having studied history, she had seen many tragic stories, but they were all in the past. Nothing she could do about it.
To cut off her curiosity and sympathy for the man, she rose to her feet.
Just as she was about to bid him goodnight and go inside, her eyes caught the morning star. The very star that had been her guide when she was very young.
“Why is the star so bright tonight?”
“Even here, stars do appear. Though fewer than where I liveā¦”
Yoo-eun had been about to say that tonight was relatively clear so they were visible, but she closed her mouth and looked up at the sky.
“That star is Venus. Is that the same one you see, Miss?”
Startled by the voice so close, Yoo-eun flinched. The scholar had drawn nearer without her noticing.
“I like that star. Seeing it here too puts my mind at ease.”
A faint smile, barely perceptible, appeared on his lips, which had been submerged in worry until now.
‘It feels like I’ve seen him somewhere beforeā¦’
She couldn’t have forgotten someone with such striking looks and a unique aura if she had ever met him.
‘No. When would I have ever met someone from a different era?’
Satisfied, Yoo-eun nodded to herself.
‘I must just think I’ve seen him because he’s handsome.’
Noticing her staring, Yoo stepped back, startled by how close they had become.
“Oh, my apologies. Forgive me.”
“It’s fine!”
Without thinking, Yoo-eun grabbed the hem of his robe as he moved away.
Even in the dim light, his face was clear. His skin was smooth and pale, as if made of melted moonlight, and his features seemed carved by a master craftsman.
But what drew her attention most were his dark eyes, like the morning star.
His pupils were wet, as if he were desperately holding back tears, so Yoo-eun couldn’t let go.
If she let go now, she felt he might retreat into a dark room and wipe away tears alone.
But it was her place not to ask what crime made him a prisoner or how he ended up hereānot even to let him say his name if he tried.
In the end, she picked her words carefully and spoke.
“I should be the one to apologize for staring so intently.”
Fortunately, the scholar seemed willing to listen, and confident he wouldn’t back away, Yoo-eun slowly released the hem of his robe.
“As you saw, I was so busy with the rites today that I just spaced out and found myself staring.”
Seeing him silent, she suddenly offered her true reason.
“It’s actually because your eyes remind me of the morning star.”
As if surprised by her unexpected words, the scholar’s eyes widened slightly, then gently curved. His fine lips formed a bow shape.
“So we’ve both been rude to each other. How about we call it a draw?”
“Deal.”
Seeing her quick agreement, the scholar laughed aloud.
It was a cool, refreshing laugh, like a waterfall in summer.
‘I thought that was a clichĆ©, but turns out it’s true.’
Thinking that an old-fashioned person suited old-fashioned words, Yoo-eun smiled. She pointed toward the sky.
“The morning star is my favorite.”
“Mine too.”
The scholar carefully sat back down on the veranda. After taking about three deep breaths, he quietly murmured.
“People used to call me Venus, and I too wanted to become a person like Venus.”
His low voice melted into the lonely fragrance that embroidered the night, and Yoo-eun could not ask anything.
She could not say a word.
“S-s-s-scholar! You cannot go outside!”
Seeing Ha-kyung desperately spreading his arms to block the way, Yoo-eun smiled faintly. His posture reminded her of herself just a few hours earlier.
As soon as dawn broke, the scholarāstill impeccably composedāhad tried to step outside. When Yoo-eun grabbed the hem of his robe, he was shocked and stayed quietly inside Geumseongdang for a while.
But eventually, his patience ran out, and he tried to sneak outāonly to come face to face with Ha-kyung, who had come in early because he was worried about Yoo-eun.
“There is a door, so why am I not allowed to leave?”
The tall scholar stood with his hands behind his back, an stern expression on his face, and the shorter Ha-kyung hesitated.
“And didn’t you say yesterday that I was free here?”
“That’s true, but this is a different matter.”
Ha-kyung shook his head so vigorously that his glasses slipped down. He fumbled to adjust them and continued.
“We’re not trying to confine you, Scholar.”
Geumseongdang was a National Folk Cultural Property, but like many such properties, it wasn’t well known.
At best, the residents of the apartment complex surrounding Geumseongdang knew that “something like that exists,” but many didn’t even know the exact name of the building.
But if this scholar went outside Geumseongdang?
No one knew what might happen with the neighbors.
Sending the scholar back to his original time was one thing, but above all, wanting to avoid any conflict, Ha-kyung kept talking despite the scholar’s intimidating presence.
“But if you want to return to where you originally lived, you need to stay here.”
Yoo-eun also nodded vigorously beside him, ready to grab the scholar if needed. The scholar, as if wanting to avoid being grabbed by a woman, awkwardly backed away.
‘Yoo-eun, please.’
‘Got it, Senior.’
The two exchanged glances, trying to push the scholar further inside the building.
“Is anyone home?”
A strange woman’s voice broke the three-way standoff.
“Is there someone there!”
The scholar stepped forward and called out, as if rather pleased with this development, and someone entered through the main gate, which was always left open to welcome guests.
Yoo-eun furrowed her brow, trying to remember who the person was.
She didn’t recall the name well, but she had seen her somewhere. Definitely a guest of the director’s.
“Well met.”
The scholar took a bold step forward to welcome her, and the woman with her hair coiled up in a bun smiled, amused.
“Oh my, are you a new curator?”
“No, I am not. I do not possess the profound knowledge of these people.”
He clearly seemed like a member of the upper class, yet his modesty left Yoo-eun unsure whether to be pleased or not.
“How interesting. What do you do, then?”
“Oh, I’m late with my introduction.”
The man cleared his throat as if to introduce himself, and Yoo-eun’s and Ha-kyung’s eyes grew wide. They simultaneously covered the scholar’s mouth.
“Mmph!”
Startled by the sudden gag, the scholar calmly tried to pull their hands away.
“Urgh!”
The man had lightly grabbed Ha-kyung’s wrist, but feeling the heavy grip, Ha-kyung let go on his own.
Yoo-eun clung to the scholar with desperate eyes, and unable to lay hands on a woman, Yoo’s arms floundered uselessly.
“Mmph, mmph.”
Her small hand firmly covered his mouth. Feeling the soft touch on his lips, Yoo hesitated for a moment.
“This person is a guest. I think we need to escort them inside. Excuse us.”
Taking advantage of the scholar’s momentary pause, Yoo-eun tugged his hand and pulled him away. As she turned, a voice laced with laughter was thrown at her back.
“Oh my, it seems you have a guest who’s traveled through time.
