Yook Sungjae had never been in love. If he had to describe the feeling, he wouldn’t know how.

It was safe to say that as the only son of Yook Hyunseung, one of the wealthiest merchants in the kingdom, he got everything he ever wanted so easily. Then again, when he thought about it, he had never wanted much.

He had always been healthy, and grew up in a harmonious family, far for conflicts since his father never took more than one wife. His parents had the same visions in raising him, and his relationship with his sister was affectionate.

He found true friends due to his father’s wish for him to be in a circle of good young men. He knew his six friends ever since they first learned to read, write and count together under the tutors that also taught the princes of the Imperial family.

It was Eunkwang that taught him how lucky he was to be so well-educated. Eunkwang’s father was another extremely wealthy merchant with a heart for the poor. He built several clinics in the city, where the physicians charged the rich really high, and the poor nothing at all.

Eunkwang’s father also gave free food for the poor in front of the clinics every Friday. Ever since he was twelve, Yook Hyunseung asked him to follow Eunkwang every Friday to help giving the food, so he knew how fortunate he truly was.

Seeing the poor kids gobbled up such simple meals of stir-fried chicken with kimchi and rice, Sungjae realized he was really blessed.

One day, after he went to the market’s bookstore to buy new books that their tutors asked for that year’s study, a beggar child kept on staring at a book Sungjae was reading (he was leaning on a stone pillar, reading the adventure book he just bought). The child was around the same age as him, and Sungjae pitied the boy, and in the end offered him his book.

“Do you want this? Take it. I can buy another one.”

The boy flinched because he talked to him, and then replied sheepishly, “I can’t read,” before sprinting away.

That shocked him.

When Minhyuk returned from the paper shop, Sungjae asked, “A boy just stared at this book. I wanted to give it to him, but he said he can’t read.”

“Oh. I see.”

“That’s so strange. Are there many people who couldn’t read?”

Minhyuk, whose father owned a school for young boys to study and prepare themselves before entering Sungkyunkwan Academy, stared at Sungjae as if he grew three extra heads all of a sudden.

“Abeoji told me there are only 1 out of 100 men in the kingdom who can read.”

“What? That can’t be true!”

“It is true! Ask your parents, they’ll tell you I’m telling the truth!”

Sungjae frowned. He didn’t know that. Everyone around him could read. His parents and his sister could, also his grandparents and everyone in his family. Even Baekhyun, the servant he received as a gift when he was ten years old, could read well. 

“Wouldn’t you be almost blind if you couldn’t read?”

“Not really. There are lots of things you can do without reading.”

“But—how can you study for the academy if you can’t read?”

Minhyuk stared at him and laughed at how misinformed he was.

“Sungjae-yah. Not everyone wants or can go to Sungkyunkwan!”

“Is the enrolment exam more difficult than I heard?”

“No, paboo! It’s extremely expensive! You can’t go there unless you have the money!”

Sungjae was a bit silent during the ride home. He and Minhyuk were riding their little ponies with their servants and guards around them.

It was the second time—after giving the food for the poor with Eunkwang—that Sungjae realized how lucky he was.

“How about the women?”

“I beg your pardon? What women?”

“You said, 1 out of 100 men in the kingdom could read. How about the women?”

“I can’t tell the exact number, but I believe what Abeoji told me to be close to the truth. Only 1 out of 1000 women in the kingdom could read.”

That shocked him even more.

“But why don’t women study like us?”

“It’s not that they don’t want to. They’re not allowed to.”

This was ridiculous for Sungjae. His sister studied under female tutors, and they were all probably stricter than all his male tutors, combined.

“Who don’t allow all the women to study?”

“Their fathers and husbands.”

“What? Why?”

“Because they want women to just make children. Cook, sew, plant. And because education is expensive.”

Sungjae’s sister spent her free time reading fairy tales. It was unthinkable for him that so many women couldn’t read.

This revelation, that education was so limited, really shook him to the core. Why was life so unfair? Why did he have so much, and other people so little? 

In his heart, he wished he could do more. It was an unusual wish for a twelve year old, but years later, when he finally met his wife, he'd meet someone who had the exact same views as his. 

He was raised in a good circle, indeed. He grew up grateful for what he had, and only wanted to do well in life. To do what was expected of him well.

He never really tried hard during his study at home and then later at Sungkyunkwan. He always got good grades just by paying attention to his teachers.

He was also told early on that he would marry Park Sooyoung, the daughter of his father’s best friend.

Although never one to display his feelings much, Sungjae was fond of his father, and had faith in him, believing that he wouldn’t be paired to a girl who was not at least good and pleasant. After all, his father wouldn’t want Yook’s family name to be ruined.

He accepted the fact that his marriage was already arranged without much fuss, since it was common in that era.

Once, he asked, “Would she be much different from Ommoni and noona?”

“Not really. Park Sooyoung is polite and pretty. She studies well and diligently. She’s a good girl.”

That was enough confirmation for him, so he put the thought of her at the back of his mind as he grew up, knowing they would be together anyway.

They married on one cool autumn day. He had thought she was really pretty and interesting.

He admired her once he knew her a little better.

As the months grew colder, his heart grew warmer.

By the middle of winter, he was pretty sure he was in love with his wife.

**********************************************************

Park Sooyoung also knew early on that she was going to marry the son of her father’s best friend.

When she asked how he was, her father told her, “Sungjae is a smart and active boy. He loves his family and a little playful, but he’s raised well. I wouldn’t want anyone less for my Sooyoungie.”

That was enough for Sooyoung, who would also put Sungjae at the back of her mind as she grew up.

However, as the wedding day grew nearer, her fear escalated.

She only prayed for a kind husband, that’s all. What if he was unkind? What if everyone had been lying to her so she wouldn’t rebel?

It was a relief to find that Sungjae was indeed a kind man, although playful.

She was really relieved because he postponed to consummate their marriage until they really knew each other. If that wasn’t kindness, she didn’t know what was.

When he allowed her to study his books from Sungkyunkwan Academy, Sooyoung had grown to really respect and admire him.

She liked him a little more when he bought a puppy and a kitten home on two different days.

It had started snowing, and one day he came to her pavilion for dinner, carrying a small, white puppy.

“This poor thing was shivering at the front door of the rice shop. I thought he’d die if I didn’t take him inside.”

The puppy was really cute, and Sooyoung was overjoyed.

She decided to adopt the puppy and called him “Hae” for sunshine. It then grew to be called “Haetnim.”

Three days after Sungjae brought home the puppy, he came home again carrying a kitten. The kitten was white and grey, and was extremely cute.

Sungjae decided to call her “Sami” as 3x2 was said, meaning 6, which was his family name.

Sooyoung waited for him to bring a bunny, a baby goat, or a small turtle, but apparently, the animals who found shelter in front of the rice shop’s door stopped with Haetnim and Sami.

That winter, as they sat reading or drinking green tea, they would always have Haetnim and Sami on their laps.

****************************************************

But what made her felt she might be in love with him was a conversation, one afternoon when Sungjae already took the time off from working.

Every year, during the coldest month, Yook family would close their big rice shop and stopped the distribution of their rice all over the kingdom, giving their employees their much needed time off.

They were sitting in her sitting room. Sooyoung was learning about philosophy while Sungjae poured over all his rice stock reports from all his warehouses, consolidating the numbers with the previous month.

“Sungjaenim?”

She had wanted to ask the question for days. It’s something that she needed courage to ask.

“Ne?” Sungjae asked, without lifting his head from his books.

“Would it be so much trouble for your friend Lee Minhyuk-ssi to check and grade my studying papers?”

He lifted his head from the reports and looked at her.

“I guess not, if I ask him really nicely, treat him to lunch at least once a month, and tell him he could take his time in checking your papers.”

“Can I give him my studying papers, then?”

“Not personally, no. But you can give them to me. I’ll give it to him.”

“Would you really do it, Sungjaenim?”

“Sure, I have no reason not to.”

“Omona!!! Gamsahamnida, Sungjaenim!!!”

Sooyoung had been so overwhelmed, she immediately bowed low at her husband.

They were both sitting on the covered, heated floor, with their low tables and books around them, and she suddenly kissed the floor beside him, putting her forehead on the ground.

She was in such a rush that Sami and Haetnim jumped.

“Yah. I told you already, you’re my wife, not my slave. Sit straightly, Park Sooyoung.”

She immediate sat down and scooted to his side, pouring him warm tea.

“I’m very grateful Sungjaenim” she beamed.

“It’s nice, but er—you don’t have to be so formal.”

“It’s a huge wish fulfilled for me, Sungjaenim.”

Sungjae laughed.

She was beaming and he patted her shoulder.

“I’ll do it. It’s a promise.”

“Gamsahamnida.”

Afterwards, Sungjae went back to counting his rice stocks and comparing the numbers with the previous month.

Sooyoung didn’t return to her table, though. Instead, she was staring at him.

“Do you need to say something else?”

“Ne” she answered seriously, her hands.

“Well? Can you say it already, so I can answer it then concentrate with my work again?”

“Sungjaenim...........”

“Sooyoung-ssi?”

“What do you think would happen if all the women in the kingdom could read and write?”

The question caught him off guard.

Park Sooyoung was indeed unusual.

She looked really concerned too, and he knew his answer would form what she thought about him for a long time.

“We could be a better nation if all the women in the kingdom could read and write. Art and literature would be more various. We don’t have that many literature written by women. Smarter children will be raised. These children will grow and shape the kingdom to be better. And less women would be used just for their physical traits—are you crying?”

Sooyoung wiped her tears.

“Why are you crying? Did I offend you?”

“Aniyo” she said, wiping her tears with her sleeves, but more kept coming.

“Sungjaenim—I—for the longest time, I hate men. Men had the best education and the best luck, while we women—we’re not allowed to even buy books that are not about taking care of a household. But I—I am now grateful that you are my husband, Sungjaenim.”

“Yah, Sooyoung-ah! Why are you crying so hard?”

He moved his low table away and reached for her, giving her his handkerchief.

“Sungjaenim, if—if we have daughters—can they study as much as they want?”

“Sure. My daughters would have the best education money can buy” he promised.

“What if—what if they don’t want to marry?”

“Then they could live under my roof for as long as they live.”

“Jeongmalyo, Sungjaenim? Jeongmalyo? If we have daughters, they could do that?”

“Yes. It’s unusual, but if I have daughters, I wouldn’t force them to start something they don’t want to. Which brings me to my question, do you hate me?”

Sooyoung shook her head vehemently, “The Gods are kind to me. I would be unhappy with another man.”

“That’s flattering, but can you please stop crying?”

“I always thought—the Gods were unfair, for giving men so much, and women so little. But I was wrong, they gave you to me” she sobbed.

“Aigoo. I am flattered, really. My heart hurts, though. Stop crying.”

It took some time for Sooyoung’s sobs to subside.

“How long has this thought burden you?”

“My—whole—life.”

Sungjae pulled her to his arms, and held her until she stopped crying.

It surprised him that she was hugging him back just as tight.

**************************************************

That conversation made Sooyoung thought she was in love with her husband.

She would sooner die than being with another man, she thought. What would happen if he was a dictatorial man who only let her to sew and order the servants? Who would stop her reading all the books she wanted and stop her mind from growing? She was sure she wouldn’t last.

Sungjae never stopped her from studying, even when the subjects she was exploring seemed useless for a woman.

She really thanked the gods for arranging her to marry Yook Sungjae.

But what made her sure she was really in love was when she heard him sang for the first time.

It was the tradition between Sungjae and his six friends to stay for a week in the coldest winter month at one of their houses, in which they’d spend the days being merry, playing games, inviting a peasants’ theatre group to the house, and musicians, with good food and drinks.

It was Sungjae’s turn to host the event that year.

Sooyoung wasn’t allowed to sit with Sungjae’s friends and joined the party, but he said he could be at the sitting room next door to listen to the peasants’ theatre and musicians.

Sungjae would open several windows of the sitting room, so she could hear whatever’s going on clearer from the next room.

Sooyoung really enjoyed the peasants’ theatre. Each day they gave a different show. A comedy, a tragedy, a valiant war hero story, a romance and then it would go back to the first genre, but with a different story.

It was a headache to supervise the servants with all the meals for his guests, but Sungjae said his friends really loved the meals. They said it tasted better than before he was married.

The evenings would always be about traditional music, and the friends would sang or cite the poems they spontaneously make for the occasion. The poems would most often be funny ones, and Sooyoung would be laughing out loud from next door as she listened to them.

They would also take turns to sing.

And she was undone the first time she heard him sang.

It was a sweet, melodious song. She loved it very much. But maybe his voice made it all the more better.

His voice was powerful yet soothing, beautiful yet strong. She was sure he was only singing for fun, but it amazed her so much that without realizing, she walked out of her sitting room and stood by the window of her husband’s party, watching him sang as if she was bewitched.

After he finished singing, his friends clapped for him and even whistled, “Yah, if you’re not rich, you could live by singing, Sungjae-yah!” Ilhoon said, still clapping hard.

Sungjae bowed with a show-off flourish, before laughing at himself.

“Oh, look! Your wife is watching!”

Sooyoung jumped at that.

She quickly bowed, before walking away as fast as she could.

**********************************************************

Joseon era really limited the interaction of men and women who had no blood or marriage relations. It was normal for Sungjae to forbid Sooyoung from attending his party. She was worried he would be angry with her, for peeking at him and his friends, and not sitting nicely at the room next door like he told her to.

But he wasn’t angry, and she was extremely glad at that.

She wasn’t really sure why, yet when he helped putting the herbal cream for her wounds that she got from the market, she felt nearly feverish. His nearness usually never affected her that much. 

She had to wear the bandage, drink the medicine and apply the herbal cream for three weeks. That was the third week.

Taeyeon helped her applied the cream made from leaves and roots every morning and noon. But Sungjae insisted he’d help her in the evening.

He’s just really kind to do that, Sooyoung thought.

She felt bothered everytime he knelt down behind her, lifted her under dress and pants to her thigh to apply the cream behind her thigh and wrapped it with a clean white cloth.

She once told him she’d lie on the floor, but he said it’s easier with her standing, which was true, because Taeyeon instructed her to do the same when she was the one helping her.

She would always rambled and talked about whatever that came to mind whenever Sungjae dressed the wound behind her thigh, and he would secretly smile at her nervousness.

She was right to be disturbed. He’d always ended up brushing too much of her skin, making her stopped breathing everytime. He assumed she’d survive by telling herself he didn’t mean anything by the gesture. She was right to assume it, as he acted as if it was nothing.

It was not nothing, though. She smelled so good and her skin was the smoothest thing he ever touched in his life. He’d feel sorry once the third week of playing doctor and patient was over.

“What was the song you sang earlier, Sungjaenim?”

He just finished covering her leg properly again with her silk pants that reached her ankle and let her dress fell to its rightful length when she asked that.

“Oh. It’s Maeil Geudaewa. I really like that song.”

“Would you mind singing that for me?”

“Mwo?”

He was so surprised she dared to ask something like that, he had to peer at her face, “You’re not drunk, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m not!”

“It’s surprising for you to ask something like that.”

“I just—you have a great voice.”

“Oh, really?”

“Ne.”

“Shall I sing it for you, then?” he asked, climbing their bed and beckoning for her to sit beside him.

She sat beside him and hugged a pillow, ready to be serenaded, then nodded eagerly.

“Ok, here I go, hana, dul, set."

maeil geudaewa achim haessal badeumyeo
maeil geudaewa nuneul tteugopa
maeil geudaewa dorandoran duriseo
maeil geudaewa yaegihagopa

saebyeok bi naerineun georido
jeonyeoknol bultaneun haneuldo
urireul dulleossan modeun geol gati nanugopa

maeil geudaewa bame pume angyeo
maeil geudaewa jami deulgopa

saebyeok bi naerineun georido
jeonyeoknol bultaneun haneuldo
urireul dulleossan modeun geol gati nanugopa

maeil geudaewa achim haessal badeumyeo
maeil geudaewa nuneul tteugopa
maeil geudaewa jami deulgopa
maeil geudaewa maeil geudaewa

ENGLISH TRANSLATION

Every day, I want to see the morning sun with you
Every day, I want to open my eyes with you
Every day, I want to be with you
Every day, I want to talk to you

The rainy streets at dawn
The fiery evening sky
I want to share everything that surrounds us

Every day, I want to be in your arms at night
Every day, I want to fall asleep with you

The rainy streets at dawn
The fiery evening sky
I want to share everything that surrounds us

Every day, I want to see the morning sun with you
Every day, I want to open my eyes with you
Every day, I want to fall asleep with you
Every day with you, every day with you

He sang with all his heart. It had always been a hobby. The more he sang, the more she looked at him with sparkling eyes.

The way she looked at him sent his heartbeats to overdrive. He wasn’t sure how he could still sing steadily. But he did.

Sooyoung was really, really awed by his voice. She felt as if she was brought to heaven. It’s that wonderful.

When he’s done, they stared at each other for a while. She was smiling at him dreamily, and he was fighting the wish to kiss her senseless.

“How was I?”

“You’re really good. Your voice is the best I’ve ever heard in my life!”

“Nothing is free in this world. Pay me, Sooyoung-ah.”

“Oh? How much for one song?”

“You know how cold it is lately, right?”

She nodded.

“I’m cold. Warm me with your body, Wife.”

She whined in embarrassment and covered her face with the pillow.

He didn’t laugh. He would usually laugh on situations like these.

But the way she looked at him earlier stirred something inside him. He needed to touch her or he’d die.

Swiftly, he pulled the pillow away from her then he practically reached for her, kissing her like how he wanted to for weeks.

He’s been holding it in since the day she got wounded at the market. He wanted to kiss her everyday since then, but he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop at just kissing her, and he wasn’t sure whether she was ready to give herself to him or not.

He had his limits, though. Staying close to her during that very cold month did crazy things to his mind. He resorted to hugging her every night, whenever she already fell asleep. She’d wake up aghast the first time, a few hours before dawn, but he only looked at her and hugged her tighter. She’d always say nothing and let him did it.

Kissing though, was something he told himself she’s not ready to do too often, unlike hugging.

However, that very night, he held her as if he was going to eat her.

She was trembling and full of gasps, pushing him in panic.

He pulled away a little, breathing hard.

She was all wide eyes and smooth, shiny, long black hair. He saw his own hands on her shoulders and hers on his chest, pushing him away. Feebly, but away.

His eyes were dark and hungry, returning again and again at her reddening lips.

“If you don’t let me kiss you, I’ll lose my mind” he confessed, “Be merciful, Sooyoung-ah, and let your husband kisses you.”

She looked like she wanted to jump off the bed, so he held her tighter.

He forced himself to kiss her gently, soft brushes on her lips until her hands fell to her sides.

It was hard, really hard to contain himself, his hard breathing sounded so loud in the room.

“I want you” he said in the end, unsure whether he was begging or half-angry, the need already making him grabbed at her under dress. “I want all of you—“ he breathed, “I need to feel closer to you, Sooyoung-ah.”

She needed some time to realize he was asking her, waiting for her to say yes.

Everything flashed in front of her eyes, everything that happened between them since they were married.

He waited for her, hoping she would be more comfortable with him. He let her studied as much as she wanted. He was kind and nice and basically more than she could ever hope for.

Why was she still stalling to give herself to him? He had proven everything she was afraid of was baseless.

So finally, with a trembling hand and wordlessly, Sooyoung picked the end of her jeogori’s ribbon and offered it to her husband.

Jeogori was the upper shirt of her under dress, covering her upper body.

Sungjae held the ribbon in his hand and pulled, untying it.

She closed her eyes as he moved forward to kiss her. This time, she didn’t even try to push him away.

******************************************************

Author’s Note:

I don’t mean to be cruel with such a cliff hanger, I swear.

I’ve been writing fics for nearly a decade, and I can write a graphic love scene. But I’m unsure with Sungjoy. I’m new in Sungjoy fandom, and I haven’t found a fic with graphic love scene about them.

So this is a serious question to my readers. Should I just concluded “they did it already” in the next chapter, or write the scene blurry, like, not really in graphic details, or, go all the way and write it in graphic details?

Please answer, thank you. I’m really, really not sure what to do.

On another note, I just returned from a vacation in Bali.

I’m kinda feeling the withdrawal symptoms at the moment. Must go back to work tomorrow, sobs.

Thank you for reading, and please answer my question.

PS: Of course, Maeil Geudaewa is a modern song that wouldn’t exist in Joseon era. But I feel it fits them and this chapter. It’s an OST of Reply 1988 by Sojin which was later sung also by IU.