chapter 22
After washing thoroughly, I wrapped myself up snugly in a towel.
“Bring the hair dryer.”
While my mother quickly dried my hair, Aunt Baek took out the clothes I was to wear—newly made for the blind date—along with a set of lovely accessories neatly arranged before me.
“I heard Hyeon has already met her blind date?”
“Yes, apparently the wind carried her there by accident through some spell.”
“My, how strange things happen.”
Indeed.
I replied inwardly as I looked toward the full-length mirror standing by the wall.
That mirror too had been made by a fellow reincarnator. I was sure of it because the name engraved on it read Baekseol Trading Company.
At this point, I couldn’t help wondering how many reincarnators actually existed in this world—but that wasn’t the important issue right now.
What mattered was my reflection.
Freshly washed, my face looked clear and radiant.
If only I’d looked like this earlier.
The image of So Baeksan—sparkling and handsome—kept flashing through my mind, in stark contrast to my earlier, disheveled self. I couldn’t help sighing heavily.
“It’s all right, my baby. You were adorable even then.”
Mother, noticing my thoughts, comforted me gently.
“Seeing how concerned you are, it seems you rather liked your blind date?”
“So Baeksan, you mean?”
“Yes. This aunt is curious.”
While dressing me, Aunt Baek asked with an amused look.
I thought back to the boy who had massaged my feet.
He was handsome and seemed kind—my first impression of him had been good.
The problem was me.
To him, my first impression must’ve been a complete disaster!
“I went out without even washing the sleep from my eyes this morning. Can you imagine what he must’ve thought of me?”
When I groaned at the memory, Mother and Aunt Baek suddenly burst out laughing.
“I think you must’ve looked cute.”
“You were cute,” Aunt Baek agreed.
“No, I looked filthy!” I cried.
But my aunt only laughed harder and stood me in front of the mirror.
“To these eyes, you’re nothing but lovely.”
“Ugh.”
Well, that was only because I was dressed up now.
Still, even I had to admit the girl in the mirror looked pretty good.
The pale-pink jeogori gleamed with a soft sheen, while the layered skirt, made of pink silks over a blue lining, shimmered with subtle colors. Over it, I wore a sleeveless blue outer garment that toned down the brightness, creating a refined, graceful look.
“You look beautiful, my dear.”
“Once your hair’s done, no one will even remember your first impression.”
Hearing that from both adults made me start to believe it might be true.
I sat hesitantly before the mirror, and Mother and Aunt Baek each took a side, deftly braiding my hair into an intricate, elegant style.
“How do you like it?” Aunt Baek asked.
“It’s perfect,” I replied softly.
Indeed, the girl in the mirror looked flawless—and both Mother and Aunt Baek burst into smiles at my answer.
We met the blind date again in the guest reception hall, a large room with a long table.
Present were the tiger father and son, the grandmother, Father, Mother, and me—six people total.
Uncle and Aunt Baek had shown their faces briefly but left soon after; it was the busy year-end season, right before the New Year, so there were not enough hands around.
So, it was quite a small group. And yet, the tiger father and son couldn’t take their eyes off me.
“Why are you staring at my granddaughter like that?” Grandmother asked sharply.
“How can I not,” replied the tiger duke smoothly, “when the adorable girl I met this morning has become even lovelier?”
“Can’t you drop that frivolous tone for once?”
“If you wish to control me, then become the emperor.”
Just as the elders seemed ready to start arguing again, my father intervened.
“Perhaps we should begin with the meal.”
He wore a serene, almost enlightened expression—as if he couldn’t quite tell whether this was a blind date or a battlefield anymore.
“I’m sure the children are hungry,” Mother added, helping defuse the tension.
Only then did the two family heads, reminded this was supposed to be a match meeting, stop bickering and lift their chopsticks.
“You must be tired from the trip. Please, eat first.”
“Just in time—my stomach was about to meet my back.”
Once the elders started, I hurriedly picked up my chopsticks as well.
The huge table was covered edge to edge with dishes—every cook in the household must have put their heart into preparing for this important guest.
My first target was the braised short ribs.
As I picked up a piece, tender and glossy with marinade, the meat slipped cleanly from the bone. I placed it atop a spoonful of rice and popped it into my mouth—juice burst out instantly.
Delicious!
The soft beef danced together with the grains of rice on my tongue.
My chopsticks danced too.
Tangy bellflower salad, savory beef pancakes, radish kimchi, crispy roasted duck, and meatballs floating in broth…
After sampling each dish and finishing my bowl of rice, I looked up—only to find the tiger father and son still watching me.
“You handle your chopsticks well,” the older tiger said.
“Ah—yes, sir,” I replied nervously.
“Most children your age use short utensils, but your hands are steady.”
That was true.
Most kids here used smaller spoons and chopsticks until around age six. But I used full-sized ones.
“I like it better—I can eat more that way.”
That was my reasoning.
Baeksan blinked, then burst out laughing. He laughed more often than I expected for such a dignified man.
After the meal, Baeksan and I moved to a small tea room attached to the side building.
The adults went to Grandmother’s office to talk in private—clearly giving us some time alone.
“Please, sit here.”
The tearoom had been made for me, since people thought I was frail. The floor was heated, and the round window on the wall allowed a view outside, though it was shut tight for the winter.
Once the door closed, Baeksan and I sat across from each other at the low table.
“Ahem. I am Hyeon Hyeon of House Hyeon,” I said politely.
“I am Baek Hwirok of House Baek,” he replied.
What a late time for formal introductions—but though we’d heard each other’s names, it was the first time we said them ourselves. When I bowed my head, he returned the gesture.
“I must apologize for showing you such a messy sight this morning.”
“…”
He looked a little bewildered.
When I asked why, he blinked before replying cautiously.
“I was told you are four years old, but your speech is remarkably mature—it startled me.”
Now his tone had turned very formal. Earlier, he must’ve assumed I was just a baby and spoken casually.
“As for this morning, please don’t worry. If anything, I fear I may have been the one to act rudely.”
The memory of him holding my bare foot flashed across my mind, but since it hadn’t felt unpleasant, I shook my head and asked him to speak comfortably instead. It felt strange—like a teenager addressing a toddler politely.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
He hesitated, then exhaled deeply and gave me a warm smile.
“All right then, Hyeon.”
I squinted.
I’d thought I was immune to handsome smiles after growing up with Father’s face, but no—his was dazzling.
“So, why were you walking around barefoot earlier?” he asked more casually now.
Ah, the shoes.
Most households made even animal-form children wear little shoes to protect their tender feet, even if it was uncomfortable. But I, being a haetae (guardian beast), had long since graduated from that.
“I don’t wear shoes anymore. I’m already four.”
“Right, I forgot. I thought you were younger and your feet might be cold.”
“You even thought I was lost, didn’t you?”
“…Yes. Embarrassingly so.”
He lowered his gaze, and the tips of his ears and eyes turned pink.
He looked so suddenly radiant—like a plum blossom blooming—that I sipped my tea in silence.
Oh no, Mother, Father.
You said to judge my suitor carefully, but he’s too pretty—it’s distracting!
Times like this made me wish my past-life memories were complete.
I had no idea who I used to be, just leftover knowledge, so my sense of self existed only as the four-year-old Hyeon Hyeon.
Which meant my little heart could race uncontrollably for a six-year-old boy with a pretty face and gentle manner.
Calm down, heart!
Don’t surrender to a handsome face!
“The tea’s cooled,” Baeksan said, lightly tapping the teapot.
Hiss—
A faint blue aura shimmered as white steam rose from the spout.
“Was that magic?” I asked.
“A mere trick,” he said modestly, pouring me a cup.
Even though plum tea tasted good cold, the sight of it steaming was somehow comforting.
That broke the ice between us.
We began chatting easily—about what we liked. I said I liked walks, meat, and sweets; he said he liked learning things—martial arts and magic lately—and was studying archery now.
After listing his interests, he glanced at me shyly and added, “I like meat too.”
“I love meat!” I exclaimed.
At last, a shared topic! My eyes lit up.
“What kind of meat do you like?”
“I don’t dislike any, but my favorites depend on how they’re cooked.”
“…!”
To my surprise, Baeksan was quite the gourmet.
I forgot this was a blind date and dove deep into a serious discussion about meat.
He occasionally commented that I was very knowledgeable for my age, but honestly—I was the one impressed.
This boy already knew how perfect clam soup tasted on a rainy day!
What was I going to do?
He was just so interesting to talk to.
He liked vegetables too, had similar tastes, and everything about him—his looks, his manners—was just so nice.
How had he stayed unengaged until now?
I would have asked, but our plate of sweets ran out before I could.
Between the two of us with hearty appetites, we’d devoured nearly everything—only one maejakgwa cookie remained.
“Please, you take it,” I said quickly before a polite battle could begin.
As host, it was only proper to offer the last sweet to the guest. I could always have some later.
“It’s fine—you should have it, Hyeon.”
He was considerate, trying to give it to me instead.
“You’re the one who’s still growing, Baeksan. You should eat more.”
“Growing age, huh…”
He trailed off, and from the look in his eyes, I suspected he thought I was the one still growing. But I pretended not to notice.
Our little tug-of-war ended with my victory.
I simply took his hand, placed the plate with the cookie on top of it, and held it there firmly. He blinked in surprise, but when he tried to pull away, I held fast.
He must’ve been startled by my unexpected grip strength, yet he stayed composed.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, smiling as he ate the cookie.
Unfortunately, that was where our conversation had to end—the adults had finished their talk.
The time had flown by so quickly that I was startled, and he too seemed reluctant to leave.
“Hyeon,” he said softly, “may I see your hand for a moment?”
“Huh? Sure.”
When I held it out, he drew a silk pouch from his robe and pressed it into my palm. It was heavier than it looked.
“A small token for yielding the last sweet.”
“What is it?”
He only smiled mysteriously and didn’t answer, standing as the door opened and his father and Grandmother called for us.
“Let’s meet again soon,” he whispered before leaving with Baeksan.
Once the tiger pair had gone, I opened the pouch—and gasped.
“Good heavens!”
Inside was a golden tiger figurine!
The winter wind tousled Baeksan’s mane-like hair.
He let it blow freely, while his son, So Baeksan, stood so still the breeze seemed unable to touch him.
“How was your meeting?” asked the father.
His voice carried through the vast sky—where only wind, bird cries, and the distant rumble of clouds echoed.
That voice was always uncanny: soft and misty, yet cuttingly sharp.
So Baeksan gazed at his father before replying.
“She was small and adorable.”
“Oh?”
“And warm.”
He could still feel the warmth lingering in his palm.
At first, he’d been startled by her cold little feet—unsure whether to use magic or call for an adult—but once they warmed in his hands, he hadn’t wanted to let go.
He recalled the precious child of House Hyeon.
He’d never seen such a small one. At first, he’d thought she was a lost infant—not his intended match!
“She was clever,” he said.
“Yes. She spoke eloquently, handled chopsticks beautifully, and looked as if she were sculpted from pearls—utterly lovely.”
“And stronger than the rumors say.”
“Oh?”
Their eyes met in the air, both glowing blue like the sky itself.
“Did this engagement have anything to do with that?” the son asked.
The politeness he’d shown to the girl was gone—replaced by the hidden thorns of his words.
How insolent, the father thought, though inwardly amused.
“Well, both our families…” he said lazily, his voice drifting like a silk ribbon on the wind,
“…are keeping secrets, aren’t we?”
“…”
“But tell me—what do you think she thought of you? We can’t proceed with an engagement on one side’s wish alone. Don’t tell me you were rejected?”
“I am not obliged to answer.”
With that, So Baeksan shot forward on the wind, leaving his father behind.
Baeksan chuckled and followed leisurely, hands clasped behind his back.
Meanwhile, far below, a certain little girl was still exclaiming in delight over the golden tiger she’d just discovered.
