Seoyeon did not make a point of finding out when market day was.
There was no reason to. The person who had eaten rice cakes at the market and grimaced had nothing to do with her. She was just an ordinary person with habits resembling Seoyeon's from ten thousand years ago. Seoyeon put it in those terms.
She had put it in those terms, but two days later, she learned that the market would be held again. The county office clerk told her that morning. Seoyeon had not asked. The clerk had volunteered it.
"The last day of the spring market is in two days. My lady, if there's anything you need, just say the word."
Seoyeon shook her head. She needed nothing. The longer one lived—ten thousand years—the fewer things one needed. Eventually, they disappeared altogether. There was nothing Seoyeon needed now.
And yet, two days later, Seoyeon was standing outside the county office.
She had not come to go to the market. She had come out for some air. Because the room was cramped. Because a spring breeze was blowing. Those were the reasons. Seoyeon decided to think of it that way.
Her feet turned toward the market. Seoyeon blamed them.
The market was busier than it had been three days ago. That was to be expected on the final day. There were more stalls and more people. Seoyeon walked along the edge of the market. It was the same route as three days ago. She passed the rice-cake stall. No one was there.
Seoyeon did not stop walking. There was no reason to. She had not come looking for anyone.
She made one circuit of the market. No one was in sight. Seoyeon was about to leave.
Then she heard a voice behind her.
"Excuse me."
Seoyeon did not stop. The voice might not have been calling to her.
"Excuse me, you there."
Seoyeon stopped. She turned around.
The person was dressed in men's clothes. The same official cap, the same robe as three days ago. But this time, they were not looking down. They were staring straight at Seoyeon. Their face was red—the face of someone who was embarrassed.
"Three days ago, at the river..."
The person spoke in a small voice.
"You're the one who pulled me out, right?"
Seoyeon did not answer. There was no need. Whoever this person was, it was true that Seoyeon had pulled them from the river, and that was the end of it.
"You are, aren't you?"
The person took a step closer. Their eyes, visible beneath the official cap, looked up at Seoyeon. They were not wet from the water. They were not burning with fever. They were simply clear. Eyes that did not look away.
"I wanted to thank you. Back then, I was sort of—well..."
Their words tangled. Their face grew even redder.
"I said some weird things, didn't I? Asking if I'd asked you to save me. That was—I mean, that..."
Seoyeon watched. Watched their words tangle. Watched them keep trying to finish despite their embarrassment. It had been the same ten thousand years ago. The scholar had eaten his barley porridge to the end even when it tasted awful. He had listened to the scholar's writing to the end even when it was difficult. A person who had to do what they wanted. A person who had to finish what they started.
Seoyeon's hand trembled faintly inside her sleeve. No one saw it.
"It's fine."
Seoyeon's voice was as usual. Calm, dry, utterly without feeling.
"No thanks are necessary. Pulling someone from the water is the obvious thing to do."
She started to turn away. All she had to do was leave. This person was not the woman from ten thousand years ago. Just an ordinary person with similar habits and similar eyes. If Seoyeon turned away, it would be over.
"Wait."
The person caught Seoyeon's sleeve.
Seoyeon's heart stopped.
That hand gripping her sleeve. Those slender fingers. They held with the same strength as the hand that used to clutch the scholar's clothes whenever he tried to turn away ten thousand years ago. It was not the strength of someone determined not to let go. It was the strength of someone saying, Don't go.
Seoyeon did not look back. She must not look back.
"What is it?"
"You work at the county office, right? Of the Seo family?"
Seoyeon did not answer.
"I have something to ask you. About county office business. It's personal, but I wanted to know whether the office could handle it."
Breaking off an engagement. Seoyeon knew instinctively. That was what this person was trying to figure out—how to ask the county office about ending an engagement with their betrothed.
"Come during office hours."
Seoyeon tried to pull her sleeve free. The person's grip tightened. Only slightly.
"It's kind of hard to talk about at the market. Could I ask you somewhere quiet?"
Seoyeon looked down at the hand holding her sleeve. Slender fingers. Short nails. A small cut on the back of the hand. Had it been scraped against a rock when Seoyeon pulled them from the river, or was there another reason?
Ten thousand years ago, she remembered the hands that had dug a grave barehanded. Nails split, blood running, yet they had never stopped.
Seoyeon closed her eyes. For the briefest moment.
No. This person was not her.
"There's a pavilion behind the county office. Wait for me there."
Seoyeon did not know why she said it. She could have simply turned and left. She could have told them to come during office hours. But her mouth moved first.
The person let go. The warmth vanished from her sleeve.
"Thank you."
Their voice brightened. It was different from the sharp voice Seoyeon had heard on the riverbank three days ago. This voice sounded almost like a smile.
Seoyeon walked without looking back. She left the market behind and headed toward the county office.
As she walked, she touched her sleeve. The spot where the person had held it. The warmth was still there. It was warmth that would cool quickly in the spring breeze.
Seoyeon wanted to reach the county office before it faded.
She decided not to think about why.
She coughed. Twice. The cough was deeper than it had been three days ago. The illness was growing. Just as Seoyeon had wanted.
And yet today, the words just as I'd wanted felt a little heavier.