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Summer brought an eagerness to Kwan’s usual stoic demeanor. Rather than saddle any of the horses, he slung a sack over his shoulder and scooped me up. He kept secretive and mischievous about the ordeal. We’d be away for a few days, yet left Saburo and all others behind.
Unlike Bitgaram, I hardly felt anything in our trek, figuring it was due to the mountain being Kwan’s domain.
We touched down at the front of a pagoda. One that looked vaguely familiar. Except, that it was pristine, and the gardens were thriving.
“This is...” My words trailed as I gawked, my mind unable to make the obvious connections.
“What do you think?”
I jumped, lost in thought. “It’s... You restored it.” I looked up at him, seeing him waiting for my approval. “For me?”
“You said you wanted to see how it looked before my neglect.”
I smiled, taking his hand in mine. “It’s wonderful.”
He watched me a moment. “There’s plenty of space to add things to the gardens if you like.”
“Are there lotus flowers and lilies in the pond?” I asked, excitement piling on me.
“Some,” said Kwan. “But we can add more.”
I nodded. “I think it’d look pretty with lots of lily pads floating. And the flowers would make it fragrant.”
He led us inside, giving a tour in his own way.
Despite how dark the interior was, shaded by the surrounding trees, it felt more welcoming than it did almost two years prior. Sparce of any furniture or decoration, Kwan asked what I’d like to have in there. It’d be a place where we could retreat to now and again, and get away from the demands of the house. It didn’t matter to me how lavish or prettily it was made; the gift was that we could be in each other’s company uninterrupted. I was happier still to find the kitchen restored and restocked—where I can test my new skills and do something for him in return.
“We should keep a vegetable garden here,” I said. “Just a small one. But, someone would need to tend it... I guess that would make things complicated.”
“I can show you the forage garden,” said Kwan.
I echoed his words in a question.
“Things that would naturally grow wild. So, there’s not a need for anyone to tend them.” He watched me, measuring my smile. “But if you want a proper garden, I—”
“A forage garden is more than enough. Show me.”
We walked out of the pagoda, around the pond to its far side.
“I had the pond stocked with perch, trout, and pike rather than koi,” said Kwan. “During the restoration, I wanted to give you options. I remembered you like eel, but they don’t do well outside of the lower river.”
“Do you like fishing?”
“I used to. But I hadn’t a reason to take it up in a while.”
“Maybe we ought to see if you still like it tomorrow,” I said with a laugh.
He nodded.
We came to a fenced off area, sturdy enough to deter a handful of common pests; though a bear or determined boar could still break in. Inside, I didn’t notice at first glance. Everything blended in well enough to look like any other part of the forest. Squinting, I distinguished the wild radishes from the ginger and the yams. A fallen log, placed there deliberately, served as a spot for wild mushrooms to gather. The trees within were all fruit bearing—young, but able to produce a small yield.
“It’s perfect!” I said, standing tip toed.
“If I planned better,” said Kwan. “I would’ve told one of the cooks to meet us down here. A raw diet for a few days is fine with me—”
“I’ll make something,” I said, hurried in my excitement.
He looked at me, puzzled at first, relaxing into a mild amusement. “Take what you want.”
I didn’t waste time. In my father’s house, I was limited in my skill, doing my best to keep up. In the last few years, I’d practiced and learned more. My plan was to go home so well skilled that I could ignore whatever rumors there were about me. Now, I would come back up the mountain, where rumors didn’t matter. They’d never reach me.
As I took careful thought on what to harvest and what to leave, Kwan plucked off several tangerines.
Keeping supper simple, I wordlessly glanced at Kwan to get his opinion. Vegetable porridge, seasoned with a pinch of ginger and chili wasn’t a very pretty meal—but beauty didn’t indicate quality. It wasn’t the sort of thing I’d normally see around the house, and I worried he wouldn’t like it.
“It’s good.”
I smiled. “You don’t mind that it’s nothing fanciful?”
“I never cared for fanciful,” said Kwan. “A lot of effort for the aesthetic and little to the flavor. I like this better.” He took another bite, eating at his usual pace.
“Sorry I didn’t make any dumplings this time.”
He looked at me with a knowing smile. “You could let me help you, rather than lay about and wait.”
I tucked in my head, raising my shoulders in shy refusal. “I want to be able to do this for you.”
Amusement started to show on his face. “Hisa will spoil me, but will not let me spoil her?”
“You spoil me as it is,” I argued.
“Let me spoil my future wife a little more.”
It was harder to argue when he called me that. And I think he knew it.
“Ask me.”
It took me a moment, but I thought I had a way to tease at him. “The bird that can carry both rainbows and shadows, the glow of the moon in the daylight, a tooth from an animal that never chews with it, the gem that is only found in mouths of the ocean, a stone that contains starlight, and the polished breath of a fire sleeping inside its mountain.”
He watched me, amusement staying in his expression. “I will fetch them myself for you.”
“Don’t do that,” I scolded.
Kwan merely tilted his head in response.
Under his gaze, I felt a little sheepish. “I like most when you’re with me.”
He waited, studying, and sat down his bowl. Scooting closer, he placed an arm around my waist, half-leaning against me and resting his cheek in my hair.
****
It rained in the night. Not that we needed a reason to keep in each other’s embrace as we slept.
Breakfast was light: a simple bowl of rice. I’d left dough to rise while we went out fishing in good weather. Wild strawberries grew nearby, ripe and sweet to snack on as we waited. It was a long ordeal, and quiet half the time, but I whiled away any boredom taking in the beauty of the area, dipping my toes into the cool water, and absently mentioning something with Kwan entertaining whatever I’d said briefly.
He’d been the first to catch something on his pole. A small trout that he let go, since it was more trouble to make into a meal than to let it grow and hope to catch again. He’d caught another, though it got away before we knew what it was. When finally I caught something, my bamboo rod slipped from me. Kwan grabbed it in time, helping to pull in a catfish that would make for an excellent dinner.
At the pagoda, I saw to the dough again, deciding to turn it into strawberry-stuffed buns. I quickly fashioned a filling from the wild fruits we’d brought back, and some of the honey that’d been stored away.
After I’d left them to rise one last time, and lit the oven to heat up, I met Kwan on the veranda, taking in the view. It’d be a while before I needed to get back to the kitchen.
“I wish every day could be like this.”
He moved his gaze to me, lounging in the humid, summer air. “Maybe not every day. But we can make an effort to come here often.”
At that, I smiled, and found myself lost in daydreams. So much that I didn’t register when Kwan got up to walk in front of me. Looking up, meeting his pleasant, stoic expression, I thought nothing of it. He leaned down, resting on his palms, and placed a light kiss to my lips. Then another, and another.
I let myself fall into it, one of his hands sliding to my back and pulling me closer. My knees straddled him, but my mind didn’t figure out where this was going until his affection moved to my neck.
I pushed away, brow pressed with a giggling smile. “We’re outside.”
“We are,” said Kwan, looking at me.
I blinked, remembering that we were alone out here. He kissed again, sliding up the skirt of my dress.
“My Hisa labors away to make me happy. I want to make her happy in return.”
I broke from him in new realization. “I don’t have a morning remedy.”
He stared at me a moment. “Do you trust me?”
It was an odd question. Of course I did. Right now, however, it felt like it had a different meaning.
He pulled me to the edge of the veranda in a swift yank. I gave a squeak of surprise, causing his hint of a smile to grow, and quivered. But I didn’t stop him. Kwan waited, and I didn’t refuse. A cruel part of me was curious. He kissed, gentle until I relaxed, and he moved to my legs—kiss after kiss, working their way up. When his lips went between my thighs, I shuddered. It wasn’t gross or unpleasant, just strange and new.
As he went on, introducing his tongue, I found myself starting to tremble around him. My mind couldn’t keep up to guess what he was doing. It was a weird culmination of touches, licks, and sucking that made my spine want to go limp. During his indulgence, his arms wrapped around each of my thighs, holding me steady while my knees were too weak to anchor to him. It was an inconvenient combination of pleasure and frustration, and I didn’t know what to make of it.
My chest heaved with breath as he continued, and I couldn’t keep myself upright. When he finished, and I was jelly, he went to clean off his face, leaving me to reel from the experience and decide if I liked it or not. That wasn’t in Lin’s explanation. At least, not more than the briefest mention.
When he returned, he lay beside me, both of us looking into each other’s eyes, wordless. He played with the seams of my blouse, occasionally brushing a finger at my chin. In turn, I fiddled with stray hairs near his face. I liked this part most.
Relaxed, I remembered the oven, sucking in a gasp and getting to my feet.
****
It rained the following two days, trying to limit what we could do. But with no one around and the air heavy with heat, I danced in it. Dressed bare, and my hair glued to me, it felt refreshing. There was something about the pelting droplets that calmed me and helped to clear my head.
When the clouds cleared the day after, I let myself take the afternoon to be lazy and enjoy the muggy brightness of the day. Comfortable in the solitude, I forwent the usual layers of dress in favor of a light night robe. The air stuck to my skin, bringing an oddly pleasant sensation when the breeze picked up.
Kwan shared the sentiment, dressing likewise as he leisurely peeled tangerines for us to share. I laid against him, soaking in the cool of his skin as I started to doze off. Like he had days before, he silently asked with kisses and caresses.
We were stripped, delighting in the touch of one another. His fingers between my thighs, I reminded him that I didn’t bring a morning remedy.
“Trust me.”
Slick, he slid in a whole peel, honey dabbed on its inside. It was a little uncomfortable, but it allowed him to follow and for us to tangle ourselves. It’d been a wait—since Bitgaram. A different thrill came with how exposed we were, sunlight and shadow playing on our skin as the breeze rustled the branches above.
Sticky and sweaty, warm and cool, we immersed ourselves in each other.
Finished, we stayed together, catching our breath. He delivered a light kiss to my neck. I giggled. Then to my breast. Calmed, he removed the peel and honey, his seed caught in it.
“The morning remedy is more effective,” said Kwan, discarding the peel. “But if you prefer this...”
I smiled, sitting myself to lean on him.
“I’ve been told the taste is horrible. This way is more delicate, but manageable.”
I echoed his last word with laughter lingering in my voice. “It’s not very comfortable.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “But the remedy does sour my stomach a lot. I don’t know if either one is any better.”
He took me into a gentle embrace. Our bare skin basked in the air and the sun and the shadow.
****
I wondered that night about other things. How Kwan had mentioned making the effort to come here together often in the future. Did he think about a future with me, the way I thought about a future with him? What did it look like from his perspective?
I remembered Genji in that moment, as we lay next to each other, with only the smallest threads of moonlight shining through the windows.
“Do you want children?” I asked.
Kwan stirred from his quiet thoughts, mulling over my question. “Is that Hisa’s way of saying she wants to make a child right now?”
I chuckled. “No, I meant—” I paused, needing to think of how to phrase it. “Genji wanted children with Isa. Would you be upset if we couldn’t...?”
He studied me, saying nothing for a long while. “I think I would be sad. More if you wanted children and none came. But I don’t think I’d be miserable or always unhappy. As long as I still had your love, that is enough.”
Playing with the ends of his hair, I began to daydream. “If we did have a child, would you want a boy or a girl?”
“If we had children, I’d want both.”
“What if I was only able to give you girls?”
His hand stroked down my breastbone, lingering at the top of my stomach. “Then we will have daughters. And I would pray they’re as ambitious in their passions as their mother. And they they’re fond of riding the mountain with their father.”
That made me smile. So often, families wanted for boys. Someone who could act as head of the family, labor and provide feats of strength. Kwan’s casualness and delight in the thought of girls took a level of pressure from me. “And what if I gave you only boys?”
Kwan leaned over me, brushing his nose against mine and causing me to giggle. “Then we will have sons. And I would pray they’re as brave as their mother. And that they’re fond of hunting with their father.”
I laughed. “What would we name our first child?”
He looked at me a long while, thinking. “Haneul, for a boy.”
“Haneul?” I repeated the odd name.
“It means heaven sent.”
I echoed the name again, becoming fond of it.
“Nabi, for a girl.”
“Why Nabi?” It was a name I was familiar with. One of the families in the village had a tradition of naming their first-born daughter that.
“Because it means butterfly.”
I gave a soft smile. “I always thought I wanted to be a mother. But I think I idealized how it’d be when I imagined it.”
“What do you mean?”
“A friend of mine in the village was married the summer I ran up the mountain, and had her first child that winter. But the baby died that same winter, without any warning. Bringing a child into the world is scary enough. To lose one so shortly after...”
He rubbed my side, slow and rhythmic, for comfort. “You don’t want any?”
“I’m just scared that I wouldn’t know what to do if something happened.”
“You would,” said Kwan. “With every incident, I watch you working to try and make things right. To help. To heal. And I’ll be there with you. With or without children, I’ll be with you.”
“Would you take a mistress?”
He shook his head, eyes staying on me.
I scooted closer, pressing against him. He kept his arm snug around me, giving a sense of security.