Chapter 16: Teetering Temptation, The Lady’s Provocation
“Please help us with the paper-passing game from mouth to mouth!”
The courtesans clasped their hands together, pleading.
A game that had started with a single guest had spread throughout the entire Yawharu, becoming the most popular entertainment at the drinking gatherings.
The trick was simple in theory: transfer a piece of paper to the next person using only one’s breath. But even a single exhale or misstep would make the paper fall.
The courtesans complained that it was exhausting trying to follow the guests’ breathing. The guests ended up drinking the forfeits, and yet they themselves would repeatedly be the ones punished.
“Can this even be mastered through practice…?”
Seohyo muttered softly to herself.
She suspected it was all part of the effort to get involved with Cha-eon somehow.
But that wasn’t the most important part.
“This is troublesome… then how should we decide the order?”
Why was everyone nodding along to him?!
The real problem was that Cha-eon had readily accepted the request.
Something about it felt extremely, immensely, ominously off. The sound of the courtesans clapping in delight reached her ears, and Seohyo’s expression grew even sterner.
“I’ll sit to Cha-eon’s right!”
“Oh, then I’ll take the left!”
“What? That’s unfair!”
The courtesans immediately began bickering.
Cha-eon observed as if it were someone else’s problem, then glanced casually at Seohyo.
That look again.
What’s his intention? He’s just asking to go home soon, yet pretending it’s all innocent. It was clearly a request with an obvious purpose.
Seohyo shot him a look of protest, but Cha-eon merely smiled faintly and looked away.
“Let’s draw lots fairly.”
Everyone exchanged glances and agreed that it was the best solution. If they debated who would sit next to Cha-eon, the sun would set before they decided.
Cha-eon drew the first lot.
His number was six.
Among the courtesans, a fiery determination burned to get five or seven.
Seohyo glared at the lot box, displeased. Why were there seven lots for five courtesans and Cha-eon? Perhaps it was a trick for entertainment.
“Nanyang got the fifth one!”
“Oh, too bad.”
“I was so close—number four.”
Nanyang, the courtesan in green, had drawn number five. She was the one who had been flirting with Cha-eon. Two lots remained, and the last courtesan’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.
A fifty-fifty chance. One of them held the seventh lot.
“Draw it, draw it, draw it!”
She squeezed her eyes shut and drew—number one.
Cha-eon held the remaining lots, theatrically checking the end. Seven would sit to his right.
“Well then, Seohyo.”
He handed her the lot with a playful expression, clearly amused.
“You’re last.”
“What?”
Seohyo stammered, quickly correcting herself in awkward honorifics.
“I… I’m joining too…?”
“It’s just practice. Why so tense?”
“I’m not tense…”
“Sit here.”
Cha-eon tapped lightly on the seat beside him. The courtesans sat in order, some clearly disappointed. Only Seohyo’s seat at the round table remained empty.
Hesitating, she was nudged again.
“Sit already.”
“Really…”
Everyone envied Seohyo, but she herself didn’t want to be next to Cha-eon. She wasn’t eager to keep watch over him.
“Shall we start?”
With someone’s cue, the first courtesan placed the paper between her lips.
Though the game sounded risqué, the paper was unexpectedly stiff and thick, making it hard to hold with just one’s breath. The game seemed deliberately designed to cause mistakes—mischievous and a bit cruel.
The third courtesan, lacking skill, repeatedly dropped the paper. If this were a real drinking game, she’d have already consumed several penalty drinks. The audience could hardly watch without feeling anxious.
Seohyo, holding her breath to watch, realized her turn had arrived.
Her chin was gently held.
Her head tilted to the side.
Breathing in through the paper, Cha-eon’s eyes met hers.
The moment their gazes locked, Seohyo recalled that earlier sense of foreboding.
The playful glint in his eyes hinted at what would come next.
And Seohyo thought,
‘Maybe I’m losing my mind…’
Her heart raced.
“Ugh!”
Pressing the thick paper between their lips, Cha-eon leaned in. The pressure, warmth, and subtle moisture could be felt even through the paper.
Seohyo couldn’t decide whether to breathe or not.
Whether to close her eyes or not was uncertain.
‘His lips are too hot…’
Most embarrassing of all, he was staring directly at her. Even with the game, their lips nearly touching, she couldn’t look away.
But closing her eyes now would look even stranger.
‘My face must be red.’
Heat rushed through her body. As tears threatened from embarrassment, Cha-eon finally pulled back.
Thud.
The paper fell instantly between them.
“You couldn’t hold it even after all that?”
Cha-eon picked up the paper, scolding her lightly. Yet his smile betrayed amusement.
“Pathetic, Seohyo.”
Naturally, they had to redo the paper-passing game.
Seohyo’s mind went blank.
A table of sweets was brought in. Colorful confections, honey-filled pancakes, fresh fruits, and tea filled the table.
The courtesans were delighted they didn’t have to drink, enjoying the treats. Seohyo, having followed Cha-eon without breakfast, eagerly filled her stomach.
The flavors melted instantly in her mouth. Yawharu’s cuisine was truly remarkable.
Everything—this, that, and the other—was delicious.
She was so absorbed she didn’t notice the white powder dusting her lips, making the courtesans laugh behind their hands. Initially wary of her, they had warmed to her thanks to her enjoyment of the food.
It explained why sons-in-law at noble houses would eat heartily.
Seohyo suggested they sell the pancakes separately, lamenting that young ladies in the city couldn’t taste them. The courtesans agreed, admitting it sometimes felt wasteful of their culinary skills.
Male guests ordered mostly alcohol and meat; the courtesans had to coax them into ordering sweets. It was unfortunate in many ways.
Seohyo sipped bitter tea and gazed out the window.
“Seohyo-nim.”
A soft voice carried on the breeze. Turning, she saw Nanyang standing behind her.
“You’re, in fact, Lady Cha-eon’s mistress, correct? I’ve heard about you occasionally. I am Nanyang, a courtesan.”
She bowed slightly, offering formal greetings.
Nanyang was, as expected, twenty-five. Older than most courtesans.
Thanks to her youthful beauty, she could stay at Yawharu for another two years, after which she would have to either open her own establishment or become a concubine for a wealthy man.
She had grown attached to the other courtesans and wished to stay, overseeing them occasionally while playing the pipa.
“Others don’t understand me. They think the courtesan life is miserable and urge me to leave before it’s too late.”
She smiled faintly.
“Would I seem strange to you, Seohyo-nim?”
“I can’t speak for you, but…” Seohyo shook her head.
“Whatever you choose is your decision. Deciding to stay here surely wasn’t done in a day or two; there must be a reason.”
“Yes. I’ve never met anyone I liked enough to entrust my life to. My sisters would be outraged if I said so. Leaving the courtesan life is a rare opportunity, yet I’m asking for more than I deserve.”
But to Nanyang, there was little difference between being a courtesan or a concubine. The walls of Yawharu were just replaced by mansion fences. She preferred to spend her life in a place she loved.
“That’s why I had to hide my illness,” she said.
She walked far to avoid gossip, repeatedly retreating from clinics for fear of being seen. Her condition worsened with delay.
Cha-eon was the one who discovered her just before she collapsed.
“He is kind. Even knowing I was a courtesan, his attitude never changed.”
Probably, even meeting kings or ministers, Cha-eon would behave the same.
Seohyo cleared her throat.
To Nanyang, Cha-eon might seem like a rare gentleman.
“When he was with me, he seldom spoke, but whenever he did, it was always about you, Seohyo-nim.”
“…Excuse me?”
Nanyang squinted slightly, smiling. Seohyo realized how experienced Nanyang was, having dealt with more men than Seohyo ever had. A faintly mischievous gleam lingered at the corner of her eyes.
“But it seems even the proud Cha-eon may suffer a bit in his heart.”
“Yes?”
Nanyang spoke in riddles. Seohyo raised her eyes in question, and Nanyang waved her hand, saying it didn’t matter. She looked amused, enjoying herself at their expense.
“You want to tease him, don’t you?”
Seohyo’s eyes sparkled. At least she understood this part.
Nanyang beckoned her closer. Seohyo leaned in, and the courtesan whispered instructions in a way that seemed almost incomprehensible.
This is how you tease him? Really?
Nanyang pounded her chest confidently, claiming she was better than Seohyo at exacting revenge on irritating men.
Well, that may be true…
Her final words poured fuel onto the fire.
“Don’t you want to see Cha-eon flinch in surprise?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then start the second round.”
Though delicate in frame, her encouragement felt powerful. Seohyo felt reassured and nodded.
Mouth-to-mouth paper passing.
The second round began.
This lot is strange…
Seohyo stared at the lot in her hand.
Cha-eon kept his original position while everyone else drew new lots. The hierarchy was clear: Cha-eon at the top, the courtesans next, and Seohyo at the bottom with no choice.
The remaining lot was hers.
By sheer luck, she drew number five, right in front of Cha-eon.
Nanyang, seated opposite, gave her a supportive glance.
What a chance! Follow her instructions, Seohyo-nim!
Seohyo’s excitement mirrored Nanyang’s. To use Nanyang’s plan, she had to sit beside Cha-eon. Fortune had favored her.
“Let’s begin!”
This time, she had a plan. Carefully, Seohyo received the paper from the person next to her.
Turning slightly, she noticed Cha-eon’s faint smile, almost imperceptible.
Earlier she had been caught off-guard, but now it was different.
She slowly approached Cha-eon with the paper still held between her lips.
From the window, Nanyang whispered:
“Change your gaze actively, and approach Cha-eon as if you’re really going to kiss him. At first, he’ll remain calm, but the closer you get, the more flustered he’ll become.”
“Actively?”
“Think of it as provocation.”
Provocation. Seohyo had never needed that word in her life. Nanyang nodded approvingly.
“You’ve never approached him first, right? Held him, or gazed with moist, inviting eyes?”
“Ugh, we’re not like that.”
Nanyang clicked her tongue, pitying Cha-eon. The point was clear: behave unusually to fluster him.
A playful, seductive gaze.
Like… this?
Seohyo stared at Cha-eon’s lips. They were subtly red, almost alluring. She remembered their brief touch through the paper earlier. How would it feel if it happened again?
He wasn’t as cold as she expected; his lips were surprisingly warm.
Seohyo moved closer.
Cha-eon’s lips inched nearer. His previously faint smile stiffened as he noticed her serious gaze. Fascinating—there was a reaction. She stared more intently, and the muscles around his mouth twitched subtly.
What a surprise—this really works.
Following Nanyang’s breathing instructions, Seohyo found it easier to draw in the paper.
She was thrilled to see Cha-eon’s reaction she had never witnessed before.
Almost at his side, Seohyo raised her gaze slowly, taking in his cheek, nose, and dark eyes. She moved deliberately, like someone unfamiliar with speed.
Finally, their eyes met, and she smiled with her eyes.
Cha-eon flinched.
Should she move closer, as if about to kiss him?
Every inch she advanced, he retreated three.
She mimicked the coy act of closing her eyes as lovers do, and he flinched even more.
This is fun. Absolutely thrilling!
Was this why he had teased her all along? Now it made sense.
A small complaint from behind reminded her that others were present. She’d almost forgotten. Curious as she was, she decided to be satisfied for now.
I’ll have to thank Nanyang later.
Seohyo moved to hand the paper to Cha-eon.
They say accidents happen in a moment.
Her accident arrived suddenly—having drawn the paper too long, she lost her breath just as she was about to pass it.
Her soft lips brushed Cha-eon’s side.
It was brief, but the sensation was vivid.
“…Huh!”
Seohyo covered her mouth, recoiling. Her lips burned as if branded. Her wide eyes reflected the shock.
It really touched him.
It was nothing more than a light, friendly kiss for a child or a dog, yet with Cha-eon, it was different.
And it had been so close—not a cheek, not a forehead, but the lips.
Her face flushed deep crimson. Cha-eon picked up the paper lying between them. It was still time for teasing, but he said nothing, merely clenching his fist.
Had his ears turned red as well?
Seohyo, holding her heated cheeks, stared quietly at her steward.
