FSLSRE C3

Chapter 3. The Flower Scholars of Ihwawon

“Flower scholars? Good heavens, how disgraceful. For grown men to be saddled with such a nickname—what a humiliation! I’d rather smear mud across my face than be called something so shameful!”

“Exactly. That’s what it means to be a proper man!”

“Then let’s go find an inn that appreciates true manliness.”

Standing before the gates of Ihwawon, one of the so-called “Flower Scholars of Ihwawon” watched the two scholars walk away, then let out a sharp whistle.

From his very first impression, mischief brimmed over him. The corners of his eyes curved into a half-moon as he smiled faintly, clearly amused. Though he was preparing for the civil service examination, he was far more often found in entertainment houses than with his books—a notorious idler known throughout the land: Kim Siyul.

Siyul snapped open a fan he seemed to have been holding all along.

“Within Ihwawon bloom two exquisite flowers—one, a splendid peony; the other, a delicate lotus. Among the examinees of Jungchon, not a single one dares claim he has not coveted these blossoms…”

“Siyul. You, who have never cared for studying, reciting poetry? What wind has blown your way?”

“Yuha, must studying only mean burying oneself in books? I am learning from the vast world itself—not from dusty pages!”

The man beside Siyul was Jeong Yuha, the first among the three scholars to set foot in Ihwawon, albeit by a narrow margin.

During his three years there, he had grown remarkably tall—now standing more than a hand’s breadth above the others. His pale complexion, composed gaze, and neatly set lips gave him an upright and refined appearance.

“The ‘vast world’ you speak of… you don’t mean the pleasure houses, do you?”

“Why, are you jealous? Well… how would a bookworm like you, cooped up with nothing but texts, understand the joys of the world? Since the topic’s come up—what do you say? I’ll show you a whole new world tonight.”

“I have no interest. Enjoy your ‘new world’ all you like—by yourself.”

“Tsk, tsk… so stiff. No fun at all. This isn’t a temple, you know.”

Fanning himself lazily, Siyul suddenly glanced around.

“By the way, where did that fellow go?”

“Not sure. Haven’t seen him since dawn.”

“Right? No wonder I’ve felt so at peace this morning. Turns out it’s because he wasn’t around.”

As Siyul grumbled, he fell silent. A young man had just appeared around the corner of Ihwawon.

Dressed in martial attire, he carried a long sword. His brows slanted upward, his sharp gaze cold and indifferent, as though everything in the world was a bother.

He was none other than Kang San, the only martial exam candidate in Ihwawon.

“San!”

Siyul called out to him.

“Where’ve you been? You were gone so long I thought you’d given up on the exams and run away—I was just starting to feel relieved—”

“Quiet.”

San cut him off cleanly and disappeared into Ihwawon.

The kitchen of Ihwawon was bustling with preparations for lunch.

The rich scent of sizzling oil and the faint sweetness of fermented sauces filled the air. Simple side dishes—wild greens gathered from the mountains, pickles, and kimchi—were neatly arranged on small trays.

Despite her slender frame, Dano easily lifted a tray. A warm spring breeze slipped through the sleeves she had rolled up.

Spring.

The sweet fragrance of blooming flowers drifted over the walls. Turning one’s head, one could see plum trees lining the fence, their branches heavy with pale pink blossoms.

“It’s spring… truly spring.”

Murmuring softly, Dano stepped out of the kitchen with the tray.

“The weather’s ridiculously nice.”

On days like this, she felt like running away somewhere—across green fields, all the way to the edge of the deep blue sky. If she ran until she was out of breath and breathed in that sky, it felt as though its vivid blue would seep into her very being.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

The voice that pulled her back from her daydream was Yuha’s. Before she knew it, he had come right up beside her.

“That the weather is ridiculously nice.”

“It should be beautifully nice, not ‘ridiculously’ nice.”

Though it sounded like a scolding, there was laughter in Yuha’s eyes. Meeting his gaze, Dano stuck out her tongue playfully.

“Give it here. It must be heavy.”

“Thank you, Brother Yuha.”

Though she could have refused, Dano accepted his help without hesitation.

Of the three scholars, she was closest to Yuha—treating him like a real older brother.

“Dano, Dano—our flower-like Dano, growing prettier by the day.”

“Be quiet, Brother Siyul.”

“How can such harsh words come from such a beautiful mouth? Keep that up and you’ll turn as unsightly as a pasque flower.”

“And how can such slander come from such a fine mouth? Do you wish to be served nothing but salted rice starting tomorrow?”

Though they bickered back and forth, their expressions were playful, like children at a game.

Sitting cross-legged on the wooden platform, Siyul suddenly reached out and ruffled Dano’s hair, grinning as if he found her unbearably adorable.

Dano spun around and shouted,

“Hey! I told you not to touch my hair!”

“Yes, yes. Understood, Miss Dano.”

Even as he spoke, Siyul reached out again, flicking one of her neatly braided strands. Her hand came down with a sharp smack onto his.

“Ow! Save me! This poor idler is being beaten!”

Siyul shouted dramatically before bursting into laughter.

“You all sure are having fun.”

San muttered, sitting on the platform with his legs stretched out, idly handling his sword.

“San, are you jealous right now?”

“What?”

“You’re jealous because Dano only treats Yuha and me nicely, aren’t you?”

“Jealous? Don’t be ridiculous.”

San let out a hollow laugh, as if the idea itself were absurd. But Siyul continued his long-winded lecture.

“I’m telling you, when dealing with such a lovely young lady, you should fix that blunt way of speaking. Kind words bring kind words in return—don’t you know that?”

“Sounds like a dog barking somewhere.”

“Tsk, tsk. What terrible manners. I wonder which poor woman will end up marrying someone like you…”

“Better than marrying a libertine like you.”

As their usual quarrel carried on—

“You boys are at it again, arguing at the table.”

The door to the adjacent room slid open, and a disheveled man stepped into the yard, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Uncle Yukho, you’ve woken up?”

“I was planning to sleep longer, but you and San made such a racket I woke up. I spent all night organizing past exam questions for Yuha.”

“Such a precious thing? As expected of the living archive of the state exam! But… is there nothing for me, Uncle?”

At Siyul’s question, Yukho scoffed.

“I only feel inclined to prepare something like that for someone quick to learn, like Yuha. A dullard like you wouldn’t understand a word even if you read it. Even most women read more than you do.”

“That can’t be! No woman around me has read more than I have!”

“That’s because the only women around you are courtesans.”

“Ah.”

Siyul had no reply.

“Yuha, come by my room later to collect it. San, would you like to read it as well?”

“I’m not yet at the stage where I can study for the civil exam.”

“Well, that’s to be expected—you’re preparing for the martial exam. You must be practicing daily, yes?”

“Yes. I’ve found a good place to train and go there every day.”

Yukho nodded, then sniffed the air as a savory aroma drifted from the kitchen.

“Oh! Seems like meat soup is on the menu. The smell is incredible.”

For over twenty years, Yukho had taken the state exam, failing time and again—until he reached the point where he had memorized every possible exam topic. That was why he was called a “living archive.”

“Make way! Hot meat soup coming through!”

Dano called out, carrying a steaming tray.

The flower of Ihwawon—Yun Dano.

Born on Dano Day, she was named accordingly. Now eighteen, she stood at the threshold between girlhood and womanhood, blooming just like the season itself.

After her father—who had run Ihwawon for generations—passed away, the inn was inherited by her mother. But her mother was inexperienced in worldly matters, and so the clever Dano naturally took on the role of head of the household from a young age.

“With the days growing longer, dinner will be served at the Hour of the Rooster from today. Please make sure to retire by the Hour of the Boar at the latest.”

Managing every aspect of the scholars’ daily lives—food, clothing, and routine—was her responsibility.

“You must pass the next state exam. You’ve already been at Ihwawon for three years.”

“Has it really been that long…”

San murmured quietly, casting a reflective glance at Yuha and Siyul.

The memory of the day they first crossed Ihwawon’s threshold together came back vividly.

Same day. Same time. Same place.

Just as Dano had blossomed from a girl into a woman, the boys—who had only just come of age then—had now grown into fine young men.