After battling cancer for 12 years my grandma is finally able to rest in peace. I grew up under her care, so she’s always been loving influence to me. My family buried her last weekend and this weekend we’re finally cleaning out her room. I’m heartbroken, but she always told me that the living has to keep moving on – as she’d done after my grandpa died.

I was left alone in her almost barren room after my parents left to go buy some takeout. The fresh sunny yellow walls remind me of how I used to draw on them when younger only to be scolded by grandma when discovered. And this room tells stories of how she comforted me after receiving scolding from my parents.

My heart weeps for my family’s loss, but I’m happy that she’s finally able to rest in peace now. Now that I’m finally sitting alone in this tiny room I finally realize how it is to feel really alone. My grandma must have been so lonely after grandpa died.

There are boxes stacked around me and her empty bed is behind me. The sun is shining through the window leaving specks of its shine on the ground through the gaps of the tree leaves outside. It was when I began turning around to look outside that I spotted the wooden box tucked underneath the bed. Curious, I reach out for it.

The cover of the medium sized box is a little dusty and there are beautiful engravings of details on its sides. I’ve never seen the box before and never knew grandma possessed such treasure. A really old book bounded together by strings comes into sight when I open the lid. It’s in such a fragile state that I hesitate to touch it, but upon noticing that the book has been cautiously laminated I finally pick it up.

I can tell the book is old. Its material has been repeatedly replaced over time, I can see it by the little cracks and tears embossed in the paper before it was laminated. An old painted portrait comes into sight when I flip the first page over. I can’t tell what era these people are from by the robes they’re wearing, but it’s obviously from a long time ago.

The calligraphy on the next page is almost hard to read, but after about two minutes of squinting my eyes I can finally make out the words. And a few sentences I realize that it’s a book put together by an ancestor, Lee Ji Hyun, whether from my mom or dad’s family branch I can’t tell – but I can assume that it’s written by a family ancestor.

The first page is a little introduction about a very quiet man who lives alone in the outskirts of town. It seems Ji Hyun had a liking toward the man who never spoke. For the first few pages Ji Hyun wrote about how she would hear the man play an old flute by the river day after day for months on end of a sorrowful tune and remain there for hours until he left.

After a few curious questions about who the man was she finally got the story from an old man. And the story finally starts here…

Year 1231…

Chanyeol’s heart was racing. He was too much in a hurry that nothing else was on his mind, but the pretty girl he knew of. Just a few days earlier he’d asked her to marry him. His wedding would be tomorrow and he couldn’t wait. For once he was taking time off from his duties of a palace soldier.

His footsteps echoed off the pavilion walls and the large fat poles cast long shadows over his figure as he ran down the open hall. The heavy panting of his breath told him he was worn and tired, but he couldn’t stop now. For every second would bring him closer to making it to the village to see her before tomorrow.

Namjoo was a peasant girl who lived near the outskirts of the village with her old grandma as the rest of her family had died from an epidemic before she moved away from town. Chanyeol came across her one day when she was being harassed by a group of men. Her leg had gotten injured in the process and he always remembered how she’d looked at him embarrassed when he helped carry her home.

Ever since, the girl with the injured leg had always remained in his memory until he took the initiation to go see her. But tomorrow she would become his.

“General!” a voice called out just before he stepped out the gates.

Halting in his steps he turned around to see the queen’s younger sister, Heora, running toward her tiredly in her layered gown of lace and expensive silk. There were expensive jewelry pinned into her hair and the light necklace around her neck shone against the sun as she made her way to him. It made her look elegant and spoke of her rich nature.

In his mind’s eye, Namjoo didn’t need such jewelry to make her shine.

“You…you’re not really leaving your post, are you?” she asked with short breaths.

Chanyeol respectfully bowed his head, “I will return.”

A smile shot across her lips and she reached a hand out to touch his face, but Chanyeol shifted back and shot his eyes at the ground.

“My Lady,” he cautioned aware of the guards by the heavy gates.

Pressing her lips together she withdrew her hand and clasped onto her other hand, “Come back soon.”

Chanyeol gave her another bow of his head before turning around to walk out.

The sun was high and full of heat in the sky when he finally made it to the straw patched hut under the low branches of the surrounding trees. Fresh fruits from an early harvest had been sliced and laid out to dry on a straw mat under the hot sun. Chanyeol could smell chicken being boiled and saw steam floating into the air, but he only saw Namjoo’s aged grandma.

“You’re here?” she welcomed. “Come eat.”

Chanyeol smiled and nodded, but didn’t move from where he stood. His eyes roamed over the area enclosed by the hut before he heard footsteps behind him and finally turned. Strands of her tied back hair hung loosely from its band because of the work she’d just done, but he thought all the effort made her look more beautiful. Spotting the pail of water in her hand he started toward her and smiled down at her.

“You’re back,” she quietly stated looking back up at him shyly.

He didn’t shy away from her eyes and felt his feelings grow even more for her. An even bigger smile of happiness crossed his face when he purposely brushed his fingers across her hand as he took the pail from her.

Namjoo slightly averted her eyes embarrassed, but it gave him the slight satisfaction over the knowledge that she felt the same way as he.

After Namjoo’s grandma left to harvest the rice in the nearby garden he found himself enjoying the life of solitude with Namjoo. He couldn’t have asked for a better life than this one.

Dismissing the tiny table that separated him from Namjoo, he kept his eyes glued to her while she continued eating. Every movement she conducted seemed perfected and tended to draw in his very attention. Chanyeol was caught by sweet surprise when Namjoo held out a piece of the chicken and rice wrapped in lettuce for him.

His heart thudded as he opened his mouth to eat it and while he chewed continued smiling at her. As he was housed in the palace, Chanyeol didn’t have a home of his own. That night Namjoo’s grandma permitted him, for the first time, to step into Namjoo’s bedroom.

They lay beside each other for the first time and every second of the night that passed Chanyeol could hear his heart beating in his ears. For the entire night he remained on his side watching Namjoo sleep away. He didn’t want to miss a second of what could be his starting from tomorrow on.

Reaching his hand forward he gently traced his fingers over her face happily smiling to himself.

And the very next day, Namjoo became his wife.

“I don’t have much to give you,” he spoke and grabbed her hand before reaching into his pocket to pull out a gold chain he’d obtained from the queen as a gift. Slipping it around her wrist he smiled before saying, “I love you.”

Cupping her face into the palm of his hand he leaned forward to kiss her.

In the afternoon Chanyeol gladly helped Namjoo and her grandma beat the rice out of the rice stalks and spent hours collecting them. Every now and then they would cast glances at each other and smile silently to themselves. Chanyeol was so in love that he couldn’t imagine life without her at all.

When night fell Namjoo’s room would officially be shared by him. Before climbing onto the bed he tightly grabbed her hand to keep her in front of him.

“Namjoo,” he spoke, “should I…stop being a soldier?”

Even though Namjoo spoke few words to him, her actions always held her sincerity. Sometimes he wished she would ask favors of him.

“Your men will need you,” was all she said.

“You should ask me to stay here with you,” he said running his free hand over her face.

He watched a peaceful smile encase her lips as she leaned into his hand. The warmth of her face relaxed him and the way she reached up to touch his hand sent his heart racing wildly. After a second of hesitating he quietly leaned forward to kiss her.

The lips that poured love into him was enough to promise him an eternity of sweet happiness. Chanyeol pulled her close before laying her down on the bed and began drawing the robe off her. And he blew out the lantern before they spent their first night romantically together.

“Have a cup of tea,” Namjoo’s grandma handed him a small cup the next afternoon as they sat on the porch. “They say the Mongols are going to take over the kingdom.”

“But we’ll still have to go out to battle to maintain our pride.”

“Pride can do nothing, but bring you to ruin,” were grandma’s wise words, “look at Namjoo. Who will take care of her after I’m gone?”

The warmth of the tea in his hand dissolved from his mind as he looked at Namjoo, who was busy checking on the dried fruits.

“Stop going out to battle,” grandma advised.

In the late evening when the wind was cooler he trekked with Namjoo through the forest before they came across a cool waterfall. The rush of the water was refreshing to the air and after a day’s hard work he knew Namjoo was tired and in well need of rest. And he wanted her to relax in the best way possible.

“Where are you taking me?” Namjoo asked as he led her along.

Without replying he lead her toward the rocks by the side of the echoing waves.

“Isn’t this dangerous?” Namjoo worried.

“It’s ok,” he assured, “sit.”

Namjoo glanced up at him worried before complying and sat on the rock. Chanyeol sat on the boulder across from her before reaching for her shoes. Namjoo hesitated and pulled her feet back upon his touch.

“What are you doing?” she asked surprised.

“Are you embarrassed?” he looked up at her.

Namjoo glanced at him without word, but he read it in her eyes that she wasn’t sure about letting him touch her feet.

“It’s ok. I’m your husband,” he smiled at her and reached for her feet again. This time Namjoo relaxed upon his touch and he slipped her shoes off before dipping her feet into the cool water.

He was aware of Namjoo’s curious gaze as he gently massaged her feet underneath the running waves.

“Does it feel nice?” he looked up at her expectantly.

Namjoo stared at him with her soft eyes before nodding.

“Namjoo,” he said keeping eye contact with her, “is there anything you want me to do for you?”

Namjoo quietly shook her head in reply.

“Anything,” he tried.

Her eyes fell on the water before she said, “Can you play the flute for me?”

“The flute?”

Namjoo shyly nodded and turned to look at him as if embarrassed of what she’d said, “I like the sound of the flute.”

Chanyeol’s eyes glued themselves to her before he half laughed and smiled heartily. It was the first time she told him of what she liked. He always knew Namjoo was afraid that if she asked something from him it’d hinder him. So when she said this, it really made him feel good.

After obtaining a flute made from sturdy bamboo he spent the next few days trying to master the instrument. There were various times when he became frustrated with the instrument, but he’d catch Namjoo smiling cheekily at him and he’d become even more determined to fulfill her request.

;~;~;~;~;~;

“Your Majesty!” the general at the front lines rushed into the palace in his heavy armor. Falling down onto one knee and crossing his arm over it he reported, “The Mongols are starting to invade from the north! We’re being outnumbered! We won’t be able to defeat them if we don’t send back-up!”

The heavy King shifted uncomfortably at the news, “Has there been any casualties?”

“We’ve lost over 100 soldiers this morning!”

“Where’s General Park? Has he returned from the village?”

“No one has seen him since he left, your Majesty!”

“Send news to bring him back!”

;~;~;~;~;~;

“Sit here,” Chanyeol instructed after leading Namjoo into a quiet part of the forest.

He let go of her hand when he sat her down on a log and cleared his throat. He became almost shy when Namjoo looked at him expectantly. Lifting the flute up to his lips he played the tune he’d taught himself over the last few days and found that he was unable to look at her while playing in front of her.

After a short thirty seconds he pulled the flute away from his lips bashful about the smile strumming off her lips.

“I really like it,” Namjoo complimented, “you’re very handsome.”

And Chanyeol felt himself blush hard at the last comment before they were interrupted by a horse neighing in the distance. Chanyeol turned around in alarm and saw an armored soldier jump of his horse before running toward him.

“General!” the soldier shouted. “The King is calling for your assistance at the front lines! The Mongols have started invading in the north! We won’t be able to fight without you. Please lead us!”

Chanyeol stared at the soldier in front of him before he found himself back at the hut. He’d slipped into his armor and was ready to head back to the palace upon duty, but was reluctant to leave Namjoo behind. What if he couldn’t make it back alive?

Stained with continuous worries he turned around to see Namjoo step out of the hut. Their eyes met immediately before she walked toward him.

“Namjoo…” he started, but quieted when Namjoo reached forward to touch his hand.

She gave him a smile before unlatching her mother’s necklace off her neck and tip toed up to put it around his neck.

“It kept me safe from what killed my family,” Namjoo told him, “it’ll keep you safe on your journey.”

Suddenly, he didn’t want to leave anymore. He wanted to stay, wrap his arms around her, and hold her all night.

“General!” the soldier urged from behind.

And as much as he hated it, he knew he had to go. He reached forward to tightly clutch onto Namjoo’s hand before quickly turning around to mount his horse and ride off.

;~;~;~;~;~;

“You asked for my assistance?” the palace door opened and a soldier bowed down.

Heora turned around in her richly embroidered gown to look at the soldier.

“The peasant girl,” Heora said, “get rid of her.”

The soldier looked up at her with wide eyes in surprise, “The general’s wife!?”

Heora widened her eyes with threat before the soldier quickly lowered his head.

“Yes, my Lady. Your order is my command.”