Chapter 22 – [1805]

After a short and vague greeting, the Prince and Wootae were standing side by side and though as strangers they were approaching the next stage of their meeting. Meanwhile, the mare proceed to feed and trample over the turf.

Resting in the hands of the young killer, who could easily fool anyone with his innocent and pure appearance, was what gave him a more peaceful look. Wootae traced the dull colors use to portray Jongno, home to thousands of people. Surprisingly, even with the limited colors, the prince’s art skills were vivid as the painting was very well done. No details of the roofs nor fences were left out and messy from Wootae’s observation. But what enlightened him was the details of the palace; each dwell were strictly painted and he could see how the palace walls caged around them. Which led him to assume that the palace may hold some importance to the painter. Then behind the city were the mountains, the mountain he knew as home and Myungyeol. The sierra were painted lightly, much lighter than the city, however, to Wootae those simple hills bury a dark place.

Peeping and standing at a 30 degree angle to Wootae was the prince. The older lad would look from the teen’s face to the paper for any reaction. He waited patiently for the younger to give him the first signal to further interact.

“You want me to have this?” Wootae asked without taking his gaze off of the art piece. For some odd reason the prince, Youngtae, found Wootae’s relaxed tone and voice to be very handsome.

Not wanting to keep the teen waiting, the prince cleared his throat before answering, “Correct. The storekeeper told me that you are interested in the characteristics of Jongno, so I wanted you to have this,”

This time Wootae lowered the painting and raised his head in order to get a better view of the lad. In a haste the question that crossed his mind was what does this man want? However, instead of satisfying his curiosity, he shifted onto another topic, “Why would you give this to me?”

Taken aback, Youngtae thought he had made it obviously clear, “Like I said it’s because you have an interest in Jongno. This is a painting done by me, it’s of Jongno—”

“No,” Wootae cut in shortly before emphasizing, “is there a reason why you’re getting rid of it,”

The question pumped the brakes on Youngtae’s hidden excitement. There were multiple reasons why he was trying to discard it. The reasons being one Junseung wouldn’t accept it, and even if he were to sell it money was the least of his concerns, along with the chances of his art being unappreciated by its purchaser. But he just couldn’t dispose it because after all he painted it to give it away as a present. “Because... After putting in nearly half a year’s time into perfecting this drawing for someone.... As it’s like a part of me….I can’t just sell it because the buyer may have no real interest in the depth of the painting. People may only buy it because they liked how it looked…. I want someone with the real and right interest to have it. That’s why I know I would be more at ease if you have it,”

After having to hear the man out, Wootae rolled up the painting. He knew the painting meant a lot to the stranger, hearing how conflicted the stranger was when trying to hand it down. It was a painting meant for someone, but that someone did not want it; thus, the latter had to look elsewhere to give it away in order to feel better. However, how was the lad so sure that Wootae would treasure it just as much? Despite the side thought, if he must learn of the city and formulate escape routes later on, a map of Jongno was what he needed most at the moment, “If I keep it, what can I do for you?”

Youngtae tilted his head a little to the side as he cluelessly asked, “What can you..?” It took the prince a second to realize where the teen was getting at, “Oh no, I’m giving it to you on my own account. There’s no reason for you to repay me when it’s simply a gift,” Wootae didn’t buy it. Nothing was free. Not even gifts. Even expectations are a form of repayment. The look on his face said it all, thus the prince speedily added. “Then, if you must repay me…. How about giving me some of your time? I want you to go somewhere with me,” the prince said with a wide smile.

Youngtae led Wootae to a hilltop high enough for them to oversee the ongoing activities behind Jongno’s city walls and entrance. The mare managed to follow close behind as the path wasn’t too steep, and near the top she was drawn to the dry grasses this time around. As Youngtae and Wootae faced the view of the city side by side, Youngtae inhaled and exhaled a sigh of relief. “This spot was where I painted that painting,” While the royalty smiled all alone, he was keeping a close watch over the small moving figures of commoners. Wootae on the other hand was drawn to the large mountain sitting opposite of them. In that mountain he knew Inpyo was there. With divided interests, their thoughts also flew apart until the noble pulled them back together, “What do you think? Did I draw the city well?” The prince asked as he glanced over to Wootae. A nod from the teen gave the latter the courage to go on before spinning back around to see the mare. “Oh? Did you follow me?” Wootae spun his head until the mare was in his line of vision, “I wonder where your home and owner is, they’re probably searching for you by now,” Youngtae said, with a hint of empathy in his tone.

Wootae was used to people mistaking the mare as a lost animal thus he was barely fazed by Youngtae’s words, “She’s with me,” the adolescent spoke seconds after the older waved to the horse. The prince’s wave came to an immediate stop before he eyeballed the supposed owner.

“S-she?” Youngtae asked, eyes and mouth wide open, “Wait, she’s yours?”

Wootae turned his back back to the mare and take in the scene of the city once more with his chocolate eyes and answered, “She’s not mine, but she’s with me,” With a small confused look on Youngtae’s face, the royalty couldn’t utter a word or spare the city any last attention. He was too impressed by the sight before him. Meanwhile in Wootae’s hands, he gripped onto the map a little. Now that he has a map, he could save more time studying up on the city instead of having to leave the mountains so often. Because internally and with Daniel dead, he was getting tired of coming out alone.

For the past few days, Chuho’s home was lively and loud despite the absences of the other rowdy homeowners, Taeyong and Jin.

A heavy and loud breath escaped Chuho’s wet lips as he rise from the bowl in his heads. For the past hour, Chuho and the foreigner were engaged in a contest, one where they held their breath under the cool water sitting in each of their own silver bowls. Chuho who had lost the round fought to breathe with coughs and gasps, meanwhile his opponent Denis couldn’t hold in his stormy, victorious laughter. “I won again!” The young bandit, once recovered, scowled at the other before gesturing for another round.

“One more, I’ll never give up!” Chuho exclaimed. Denis looped back his excitement and prepared himself as well. The two took in deep breaths before drowning half of their faces into their bowls. Chuho’s eyes were directly on Denis, while the British looked elsewhere to keep himself calm. In the moment an idea rose to the front of Chuho’s head, and without a moment to waste he reached over and tapped the bottom of Denis’s basin. The brutal force caused water to attack the foreigner’s open nostrils and quickly he dropped the bowl with a yelp.

“Ow! Water up my nose, water up my nose!” the blonde pressed the sides of his head with his hands and sealed his eyelids, simultaneously he stomped the ground with irritated kicks. Before him, the one responsible was dying of laughter from his own mischievous act. Chuho dropped his bowl and slapped his arms around his stomach before falling onto his side. His laughs carried on even after Denis’s recuperation. The white boy snarled, “Cheater!,” The bandit who couldn’t make out any sound or voices outside of his own guffaw continued to make a scene of himself. Denis however had move on and was amused by the rolling, kicking, and cackles done by Chuho.

Soon after the two were adopted by a whole new topic, insects. Chuho and Denis has been chasing a white butterfly from the hut. The beautiful insect had led them to a large tree that neither cared a lot about. The two gazed up at the arthropod, the only thing garnishing their attention span. “Whoa, I didn’t think I would get to see a butterfly around here,” Denis voiced. Though the Asian couldn’t translate the latter’s full statement, by the sound of his tone, Chuho knew Denis was just as allured.

As their attention continued to rest on the outline of the butterfly’s wings, colors, and enticing yet simple appearance. They’ve become targets to the approaching group of men. “Well, isn’t it the little brat again,”

The two boys turned toward the direction of the uninvited guests. Denis who couldn’t grasp the situation look to Chuho for answers. It took him less than a second to get the answer he needed. The guests were obviously bad company as Chuho wore a hard face.

“What a great coincidence. I came out here feeling that today would be a good hunting day, but I didn’t think I would meet you here. I suppose today will be more than just a good hunting day,”

Chuho let out an obvious annoyed sigh, “When you always fail to catch me, what make you think today would be any different from all of your failed hunting days?”

The older, Gwakjin, released a displeased smirk, “Today I will catch you you rat, and I will peel your skin layer by layer and send them to your old man. Then I will laugh at the look on his face when he sees your head hanging on a thread!” Instantly the group charged forward, weapons in hands, and gazes of angry bulls.

Chuho quickly reached for Denis, “Run Denis!” With small pulls he was able to get the foreigner to follow him down the hill. Without any immediate plans, Denis directed the chase toward the city. The city was easier to hide in and will also provide enough bodies to slow or stop their chaser from getting too close to them.

But he was wrong.

End of Chapter Twenty-Two.