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It was no mystery that Minseok's title was bought with money, and there was no shortage of people willing to call him a worthless bastard to his back because of it. Yet no one would dare to utter a single word to his face. Merchants the Choi may be, but the richest in Hanyang, and the silk durumagi worn by the youngest son of the only daughter of Choi the Old was worth more than most noble families’ monthly revenue in harvest taxes.
Besides, Minseok is many things. Shrewd like a fox, arrogant when he wants to be, a talented poet and a decent singer, pretty - if the word could be applied to a man - but he is not a bastard. His father is a yangban, from the second branch of the Gyeongju Ryu clan, once one of the most influential clans of Hanyang, now forced to marry the daughter of a merchant to get by. What a fall from grace, people used to say, not only did he marry a commoner, but who’s to say that that shameless woman wasn’t already pregnant when her father bought her a marriage into a noble family? Who’s to say she doesn’t have another little lover out, even after the marriage? Those who dared to talk about it in public are all quiet now. Being denied entrance and the right to shop in the most prestigious stores in the capital would itself be a hindrance, but being ridiculed by other nobles because of it? Yangban do have a very thin skin, Minseok often says. And greedy hands, bottomless eyes, poisonous tongues. He’d say every word like it was a sijo, counting the syllables as he rolled them on his tongue.
“Me too?”
Minhyung would ask.
Minseok would just smile.
🌙
Social groups in Sungkyunkwan are pretty clear-cut, but there are some exceptions.
Some people don’t mingle because they are too lofty, high and mighty scholars who put righteousness over everyone and constantly admonish other students over the danger of forming political cliques. Most of them don’t come from very influential families, and they wear neutrality on their chest like an armor plate to avoid being swallowed by the government factions. If you don’t take a side you might be discarded as a political ally, but you can still be used for your ability. In fact, impartial people are the most sought-after. Drag them to your side and they can tip the balance of a stalemate.
Some people don’t mingle because they don’t need to. Minhyung is the cousin of the crown prince. His father is Chief State Councillor, his aunt is Consort Queen and his grandmother on his father’s side is Queen Dowager. For him, Sungkyunkwan is a vacation. He’s already learned from the top-ranked scholars at home, and there’s no doubt he’d be able to pass the civil service examination immediately if he tried. Passing is not enough, though. His father said he has to be the top scorer in his exam, and he shouldn’t even try if he can’t do it. It’s only expected, you will be State Councilor in the future.
Minseok is kinda the same, yet not the same. His older brother is already a top-scorer in the civil service examination, currently serving as magistrate somewhere in Southern Cheolla, and headed for a striking political career it seems. Minseok will most likely inherit some shops from his maternal grandfather and become a disgustingly wealthy merchant, and he will one day loan money to all these people who smile in public and slander him in private. There was no reason for him to go to Sungkyunkwan altogether, and Minseok doesn’t even like it. He prefers songs and poems that fill the teahouses of the capital to classics like the Analects, and arithmetics to ethics, and he certainly enjoys the company of his grandfather’s clerks with more grace than he can spare for the annoying young nobles he can meet in class.
Minhyung asks him, one night, in Janghan. Normally, it wouldn’t be proper for young masters of proper families like them - even worse, Sungkyunkwan students - to hang out around gisaeng in teahouses. Janghan is a very esteemed, high-end establishment, but the girls working the night shift there are still call girls after all. The only difference with a common brothel is that they only answer the calls of second-rank government officials or higher. Still, if they were caught, some of the rowdy boys could easily lose their spot in school. The only reason they were brave enough to go there is that Minhyung also went. It’s harder to be scolded when the cousin of the crown prince is with you. And the only reason Minhyung would ever go is that he knows Minseok loves to drink, even though he is quite bad at it, and it’s so rare to get him to lower his guard, see him all flushed and boneless, splayed on the low table like a lazy cat. Not that the others are privy to this information. They only know that Minhyung is quite likely to go if his roommate is invited, and that’s how Minseok got invited. Reluctantly, begrudgingly, yet very politely.
Minseok almost laughs in their faces - they’re not even important enough to get one of his smirks out, it seems - and looks at Minhyung.
“You going?”
Minhyung pretends to think about it. He knows Minseok will only go if he does, and it’s a heady thought as much as it’s an accurate one.
“You going?”
He asks back.
Minseok leans over from where he’s sprawled on the warm floor next to his calligraphy practice sheets.
“They’re not gonna have enough money if we go, don’t they? They’re all cheapskates. Am I being invited because they expect me to pay for them?”
You’re being invited because they all know I wouldn’t leave you alone to drink with them, Minhyung thinks. He wonders, sometimes, if Minseok is aware. If he’s just pretending to be clueless. It would be very Minseok-like. But missing social cues is also very Minseok-like. He’s a little spoiled fox, beloved by all in his family. People who call him a bastard have never seen the way his father, mother, and brother dote on him. His maternal grandfather too. (Not his paternal grandfather, no, that man is a taboo, but Minseok is good at pretending he doesn’t exist.) He’s never had to beg for attention in his life, and the scorn of other students in Sungkyunkwan? He doesn’t care about it. He barely cares about Minhyung too, most of the time, except now…
Now he’s looking at Minhyung with a pout, like a puppy waiting to be picked up and petted.
“I’m going to pay for you, Young Master Ryu. So don’t be lazy, get up and accompany me tonight, mh?”
Is there anyone else who’d shake his head at Lee Minhyung’s invite, waiting to be begged a little more? No one in this world but Ryu Minseok.
🌙
Arithmetic is not taught in Sungkyunkwan, but Minseok learned it anyway from his grandfather. He’s the fastest to calculate how to split the bill at the teahouse and refuses to pay for those who leech around him, no matter how stingy he looks. Minhyung usually ends up paying in his stead, not because he cares about those fools but because he can’t wait for them to leave. When the lights start dimming, the candles flickering dangerously, and Minseok’s forehead hits the table with a soft thud, Minhyung calls Seolhwa, the hall manager.
“Find someone to walk them back to school,” he says, nodding to the idiots laughing loudly on the other side of the table.
“To school? Aren’t they too intoxicated to go back?”
“They can stay on the street if they don’t want to walk. Not my problem, nor yours.”
Seolhwa’s smile is a little weak. It’s obvious she’s afraid to be blamed if they don’t make it back in one piece. Minhyung sighs.
“There’s a man waiting for me downstairs. Tell him to take care of it.”
Hoeyoon won’t be happy to leave his post next to Minhyung’s side, but at least they’ll get rid of the dead weight.
“Will it be alright to send your personal guard away, Young Master?”
“It will be fine. I’ll stay here with him for tonight. Unless you’re implying your establishment isn’t safe enough for the son of the Chief State Councilor.”
She pales.
“Of course not, Young Master. You and Young Master Ryu are welcome to stay the night. I will find two rooms for you.”
“No need. One is fine. But I don’t know if we will get to use it. You see,” he says, mentioning to the boy who has fallen asleep on his sleeve, “I don’t think I’ll leave my seat tonight. I can’t bear to wake him up.”
🌙
So Minhyung asks.
“Why did you stay, then? You hate it here. You hate the people, the way they treat you, you hate the subjects we have to study, you hate the teachers.”
Minhyung knows what Minseok likes. Flowers and little puppies and horses, colorful silk, musical instruments, little trinkets, sweets. Things wealthy young nobles give to their beloved concubines to relieve their boredom. Minseok also likes accounting books and gifts that come from the other side of the Great Ming, colorful spices, seeds of plants never seen before, illustrated books of animals so strange he can’t sometimes believe they’re real, and the special powder that flies and dances and can make a man lose his eyes and hands if you’re not careful. He’s fascinated by foreign contraptions, such as the spectacled glasses he asked his uncle to bring from Ming so that he could give them to Minhyung after he complained that reading and writing gave him a headache. He smiled so proudly when Minhyung’s lips parted in awe as soon as he put them on him.
Minhyung thinks that day will forever be branded in his brain like an imperial seal doused in gold, his most vibrant memory. He blinked and suddenly, he could see. The world had never been so clear. And in that moment - no, in every moment, forever in the entire world - Minseok was the most remarkable, lovely thing.
“You can’t hear me, you fool. Should I cut my sleeve for you? So that I can leave without disturbing your beauty sleep?”
Like Liu Xin of the Han Dynasty, except Minseok is not Minhyung’s lover, and yet Minhyung wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave him asleep. His fingertips trace the shape of Minseok’s nose, shyly, secretly. What if he wakes up, he thinks? What if I scare him, what if I break everything?
Minseok hums quietly, his head butting against Minhyung’s hand, seeking his warmth. Like a puppy.
Minhyung never gets an answer, that night. He doesn’t need one, after all.
(After their first week as roommates, after being scolded by the instructors for being too slow, after being ignored by everyone, after people laughed at him, after someone even dared to suggest he had paid to be put in the same room as the son of the Chief State Councilor, Minseok had cried himself to sleep. He had only gone to Sungkyunkwan to make his father happy, after all, but he clearly wasn’t fit to stay there. That night, Minhyung could hear him shake under the blanket, choking his sobs in the pillow. Yet he had done nothing.
A few hours later, he had woken up to the sound of their room’s paper door being pulled open. It had been instinct, maybe, to reach out half-asleep, his hand closing around a thin wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“Let me go, Young Master Lee.”
“You’ll get punished. Come back.”
“Who’s going to punish me if I never come back?”
“Then are you going to let them laugh at you for the rest of your life? You’re going to let them drive you out? You’re also a yangban, Ryu Minseok.”
“Why do you even care?”
Minseok had pulled. Minhyung had pulled back. Even then, Minhyung was bigger. He had ended up with a handful of shakey, angry young master.
“Let me go! Young Master Lee!”
So feisty. He will wake up the entire hall soon.
“If you run away, I’ll run away with you,” Minseok had said, in a desperate attempt to shut him up. It had not worked. Minseok had struggled even harder.
“Who wants to run away with you?”
“Maybe I want to run away with you.”
“Lee Minhyung!”
That wouldn’t be the only night Minseok had threatened to run away. It wouldn’t be the only night Minhyung had managed to stop him. The following morning, Minhyung dragged his roommate to the cafeteria, sat him down, and watched like a hawk as he ate, murdering with his eyes anyone who dared to disturb him. After a couple of months, Minseok had stopped trying altogether.)
Was it boredom? Some twisted kind of pity? Was it just the heat of the moment? Maybe, in the beginning. Minhyung is now past the luxury of asking himself why he stopped Minseok from leaving, on that fine spring night. He just knows Minseok cannot leave at this point. Minhyung cannot afford to let him leave.
As to why Minseok stayed, well, Minhyung really likes to ask, especially at times like these, when Minseok is far too gone to avoid the question and hide behind a paper fan, a joke, a silly laughter, or a verse from a poem about the inevitability of destiny. Yet, there is very little need to ask. Deep down Minhyung knows. Minseok only stayed for him.