My deep soul

Chapter 21

The morning air was cool when Jinyoen tugged Ahro along by the wrist, insisting she accompany her. “If you are with me, it will be easier to deal with the Hwarang,” she had said, half serious, half teasing.

But as they walked, Jinyoen noticed her friend was unusually quiet, lost in some private thought. She didn’t pry—Ahro’s eyes had the faraway look of someone wrestling with something heavy. So Jinyoen kept her silence.

When they arrived at the training grounds, Jinyoen spotted Jidiwi. He approached without a word, his dark eyes steady on hers. He reached into his sleeve and produced a delicate hairpin—crafted of silver and tiny pearls. Without explanation, he set it gently into her palm.

Jinyoen froze, confused, her cheeks warming. Before she could speak, he simply turned and walked away.

Ahro, who had seen everything, arched a brow. “Who was that?”

“W-Well… someone who is here,” Jinyoen stammered, trying to hide the heat crawling across her cheeks.

“Then why is your face red?”

“N-no. No reason at all!”

“Jin,” Ahro said firmly, folding her arms, “you are my little sister. I *know* about you.”

Jinyoen bit her lip, torn between irritation and the need to confess. Finally, she whispered, “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

Ahro nodded solemnly.

“Well… I—I like him. A little bit. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know how he feels about me but… he kissed me some days ago.” Her voice grew softer with every word until she could barely hear herself. Before Ahro could react, Jinyoen grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the physician’s clinic.
Inside, Pi Jooki greeted them with furrowed brows. “Lady Jinyoen, from where did you get those things?”

“Got what exactly?” she asked, confused—until he pulled them fully inside.

Her jaw dropped. The clinic, usually humble and plain, was draped in silks of impossible fineness. Chairs carved from rare wood gleamed by the light. Trinkets of western make glittered on the shelves. The modest room now looked like the chamber of a noble.

“I think your brother, Lord Eun, has sent you these,” Jooki ventured.
“No,” Jinyoen said sharply, shaking her head. “He knows I hate such things.”

“Who would do this to a clinic?” Ahro murmured, dismayed. “A clinic should serve the poor, not look like a palace.”

“Do you know how much this costs?” Jooki asked gravely.

Ahro shrugged. “Silver?”

“Not silver,” Jinyoen whispered, her eyes narrowing. “Gold. Many, many pieces of gold.”

Ahro’s eyes went wide. “Gold?”

“If this isn’t your brother’s work, my lady,” Jooki said quietly, “then it must be… a bait. A bait to win your heart.”
Jinyoen’s jaw clenched. “What kind of idiot would waste so much—on this?”

Her words rang so sharply that even outside, Jidiwi and Paoh heard her raised voice. Paoh gave Jidiwi a look of pity and quickly slipped away, leaving him to face her wrath.

Moments later, Jinyoen stormed out. Her eyes locked onto Jidiwi. “Oi, you!” she snapped. “Did you do this?”
He shrugged. “It cost too much gold.”

“I know it cost too much. That’s why I’m asking. Why?”

“Because I can,” he said simply. “And because I want to.”

“Why?” Her eyes locked on his, demanding.

For the first time, his voice softened, carrying a weight that silenced even the wind.
“Because I love you.”

The world tilted. Jinyoen felt her heart stumble in her chest, the words striking deep. She wanted to be angry, to scold him for his recklessness—but the sincerity in his eyes almost unraveled her. Almost.
She let out a long, weary sigh and reached for his hand. His skin was warm, his knuckles scarred, and she rubbed her thumb across them gently.

“Jidiwi,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I don’t want these things from you. I was born with money, with power. Those mean nothing to me. Do you know what does? The people out there—” she gestured toward the village beyond—“who go to sleep hungry every night. With what you’ve spent here, hundreds of mouths could have been fed. Children could have smiled instead of starved. To see you waste it—it hurts me.” Her voice trembled, betraying her heart. “I don’t want to see you become like the selfish nobles who think only of themselves. That is not who I want beside me.”
Her hand rose, soft and trembling, to cup his cheek. His breath caught as her touch burned into him, more precious than any gold he had ever held.

“I want someone who loves me with all of his heart,” she whispered. “That is all.”

Then she let her hand fall, turning away, leaving him alone with the weight of her words.

Jidiwi stood frozen, his chest heaving as though he had run a long distance. He touched the place her hand had been, his heart hammering.

“She doesn’t want my gold,” he whispered to himself, voice raw with awe. “She wants… me. My heart.”
The revelation struck deeper than any sword could. For the first time, he felt seen-  not as a man with wealth or power, but as himself.

His lips curved slowly, tenderly, as he whispered a vow into the still air. “Then my heart is hers. Entirely. I will love her in the way she deserves—with nothing but myself. I swear it.”

And as Jinyoen’s figure disappeared from sight, Jidiwi felt something stir within him—something far stronger than gold, far more enduring than rank. A love that would bind him to her, body and soul.