It was Grandma who opposed Hakyung and his siblings’ sweet dreams, her voice cutting through the cheerful dinner table chatter like a knife.
“A feast? What feast! Where would the money for a feast come from?”
Her words were sharp, practical, and undeniably true.
“But, Boss…”
Hakyung started, looking pleadingly at Muheon, hoping for some miraculous intervention.
“Is that the Boss’s money, or your money?”
Grandma’s gaze hardened, directly addressing Hakyung, reminding him of his own financial limitations.
Hakyung’s shoulders slumped as Grandma’s expression intensified, telling him not to talk nonsense.
He knew she was right, even though his heart longed for a grand celebration.
It was true that he was ridiculously lacking.
Why wasn’t he as capable as the boss?
He really wanted to brag about his boss to the village elders, to show off the magnificent man he was marrying.
He imagined the pride in their eyes, the whispers of admiration, and the thought alone filled him with a yearning that now felt unattainable.
His lips automatically pouted, a childish display of disappointment he couldn’t quite control.
Muheon, seeing Hakyung who had instantly become dispirited, gently patted his shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort, and then opened his mouth.
“I will prepare it.”
His voice was calm, resolute, cutting through the silence that had fallen over the table.
Rather than seeing the gloomy river dolphin, he could throw a hundred such feasts.
Muheon’s determination was unwavering.
He would spare no expense to see Hakyung’s bright smile return.
At the boss’s short but strong declaration, Hajo and Hawon squirmed with excitement, their faces lighting up with renewed hope.
The idea of a grand feast, a spectacle of joy, was too enticing to resist.
They imagined mountains of delicious food, lively music, and all their friends and family gathered in celebration.
But Grandma was firm.
She gave Muheon a stern look as well, unwilling to let his generosity simply override her principles.
“You shouldn’t do that either, Boss. Even if you’re going to be married to our little pig, if you give him everything he asks for, you’ll just spoil his personality. Understand? Even Hajo going to Seoul is already a big ask.”
Her words, while seemingly harsh, came from a place of deep love and wisdom, a desire to see Hakyung stand on his own two feet and for both of them to build a partnership based on equality.
“Ah…”
Muheon let out a soft sound of understanding, acknowledging her point.
He respected her perspective, even if it meant adjusting his own plans.
“What did I tell you last time, Hakyung? The two of you are equals! Got it? Don’t even think about pestering the Boss for more!”
Grandma sternly warned him one more time, her eyes fixed on Hakyung. Hakyung, feeling a little intimidated by her threat, quickly nodded.
He was used to Grandma’s nagging, and since it wasn’t wrong, he stayed quiet, accepting her wisdom.
But it wasn’t the same for the boss, was it?
Muheon, after all, was an immensely powerful being.
Aside from the fact that Muheon was at least several decades older than Grandma, he wasn’t in a position to be lectured by anyone.
Yet, he listened respectfully, a quiet demonstration of his character and his acceptance of Hakyung’s family.
He found Grandma’s directness refreshing, a stark contrast to the subtle politics he usually navigated.
“Okay, Grandma. I won’t. I’ll only do what I can prepare. A real promise!”
Muheon stated, his gaze meeting hers, a subtle warmth in his eyes.
“Alright. The two of you will discuss it well and prepare, won’t you?”
Grandma’s stern expression softened slightly, a hint of satisfaction in her tone.
“Of course!”
Hakyung quickly poked Muheon’s side, signaling him to nod.
It meant that since he was in the Kang Dolphin Kang family, he should follow Grandma’s words, acknowledging her authority and wisdom.
Grandma was satisfied seeing Muheon obediently nod as Hakyung instructed, a small smile playing on her lips.
She appreciated his humility and his willingness to respect their family traditions.
She felt that even though she had spoken strongly, Muheon didn’t talk back and listened to Hakyung, which she liked immensely.
It showed a certain character, a willingness to be part of their world.
The more she looked at him as a husband candidate for her grandson, the more she realized he was the real deal.
He was strong yet humble, powerful yet respectful.
Grandma smiled inwardly with pride and picked up her spoon, suggesting they finish eating.
Fortunately, the spicy fish stew was still delicious even when cold, its rich, savory aroma filling the air, and the atmosphere returned to being pleasant, filled with the comfortable sounds of a family meal.
On the way back to Seoul, Hakyung, having officially received Grandma’s permission to marry, seriously began to research the marriage of mythical beings, specifically the marriage of two male.
He pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen, a newfound determination in his eyes.
The world of online resources was vast, and he was eager to dive in.
Nowadays, there are various ways to get information, as couples detailed their wedding preparations not only on blogs but also on YouTube.
He found countless videos and articles, each offering advice and insights into wedding planning.
However, the problem was that the preparation process was quite complex, especially for their unique circumstances.
“Boss! Look at this, there are so many documents to prepare!”
Hakyung exclaimed, his voice tinged with exasperation as he scrolled through a long list on his phone.
He had only looked into it briefly, but perhaps because they were both male, there was a truckload of documents to prepare.
It felt like an endless bureaucratic maze.
Why did they check assets for marriage, and why were insurance certificates needed?
The list of documents seemed absurd the more he looked at it.
It wasn’t because he only had a few million won in his bank account right now.
Really.
He tried to convince himself that his meager savings had nothing to do with his frustration, but a part of him still felt inadequate compared to Muheon’s immense wealth and influence.
Muheon chuckled softly at Hakyung’s huffing and puffing beside him, finding his earnestness both amusing and endearing.
He reached over and gently ruffled Hakyung’s pink hair.
“What’s so complicated?”
Muheon asked, a hint of amusement in his voice, though he hadn’t yet seen the list.
“Look. The resident registration abstract, family relations certificate, National Identity Guarantee Center confirmation, and insurance certificate list are the easy ones.”
Hakyung thrust the phone towards Muheon, pointing frantically at the screen.
The list of documents continued for a long time after that, an intimidating scroll of official jargon and requirements.
Even Muheon, who had lived for hundreds of years, frowned at names he had never heard before, terms that felt utterly foreign even to his ancient existence.
It was almost as if they were performing a ritual to break off the engagement rather than prepare for a wedding.
The sheer volume and seemingly arbitrary nature of the requirements were baffling.
“And since I don’t have much, preparing documents isn’t hard for me. But for the Boss, who was born hundreds of years ago, are there even any documents left?”
Hakyung asked, his voice filled with innocent worry, genuinely concerned about the logistical nightmare Muheon might face.
He imagined ancient scrolls and dusty archives, wondering how one would even begin to track down such records.
It was a question mixed with innocent worry.
Muheon reached out his right hand and poked Hakyung’s soft cheek, a gesture of reassurance.
Of course, there was no way documents from hundreds of years ago would remain, but he wasn’t bound by such scraps of paper.
How could he explain this well to Hakyung, who understood the world in such straightforward terms?
“Give me a few days, and I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to look at such headache-inducing things. It makes me dizzy.”
Muheon said, trying to dismiss Hakyung’s worries with a wave of his hand.
He preferred direct action to bureaucratic headaches.
“Boss, are you perhaps going to use your fist again…”
Hakyung’s eyes widened playfully, remembering Muheon’s past displays of power.
“Are you still seriously believing I’m a gangster?”
Muheon mumbled, genuinely feeling wronged, a slight pout on his own lips.
The insinuation, however lighthearted, still bothered him.
“Ah, I’m just kidding!”
Hakyung burst into laughter, enjoying Muheon’s rare display of vulnerability.
He found Muheon’s cute complaint utterly endearing.
He turned off his phone screen, setting aside the daunting list of documents for the moment, and turned to face the driver’s seat, his gaze fixed on Muheon.
He intended to fully capture the cool appearance of the boss in his eyes, not just from the front but also from the side.
He admired the strong line of Muheon’s jaw, the slight curl of his dark hair, the focused intensity in his eyes as he drove.
And a song naturally flowed out of him because of that cool figure, a spontaneous melody that spoke of his admiration.
“Our Boss’s side profile is sculpted, sculpted, a sculpture is driving! David, David-doobie-doobie-doo!”
Hakyung sang, his voice clear and joyful, infused with genuine admiration.
“Ahem!”
Muheon cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Laughter naturally escaped him at the nonsensical lyrics.
Sometimes, no, often, Muheon found the time he spent with Hakyung incredibly enjoyable thanks to such songs that brought laughter and light into his often-serious life.
If he became entangled with Hakyung through the institution of marriage, Hakyung would continue to chatter and sing beside him, filling his world with joy and unexpected melodies.
Therefore, Muheon wanted to get entangled with Hakyung as soon as possible, to formalize their bond and embrace the vibrant future Hakyung promised.
He decided to call Sang-ho as soon as he got to Seoul and press him for answers, to expedite the complicated paperwork and clear any bureaucratic hurdles.
***
The news that Muheon, the ruler of the West Sea of South Korea, was about to marry reached various parts of the world’s oceans, carried on the whispers of currents and the murmurs of ancient tides.
The Imugi ruling the seas rejoiced greatly and sent congratulatory gifts and letters, a testament to Muheon’s respected position among them.
It was a momentous occasion, a powerful Imugi taking a partner, and it sent ripples of excitement throughout the aquatic world.
Among them, Dokgo Jin, the Imugi of the East Sea, was particularly delighted.
Without bothering to hide his impulsive nature, he immediately rushed to Seoul, his arrival heralded by a subtle shift in the ocean’s currents.
He was a creature of immediate action, his enthusiasm often preceding any formal protocol.
“They say a quiet Imugi climbs onto the hearth first! Are you suddenly announcing your marriage without even a word about dating?”
Dokgo Jin boomed as he entered, his voice echoing with hearty laughter.
The ruler of the East Sea, who appeared with a hearty laugh, had a tanned complexion, unlike an Imugi living underwater, which made his thick muscles shine even more.
His short hair suited his masculine face, adding to his rugged charm.
Of course, that’s being polite by calling it masculine; to tell the truth, he had a rough appearance, like a butcher who could single-handedly take down hundreds of cows, a formidable and imposing figure.
However, because his affection for his own muscles was extraordinary, his immense muscle mass never decreased, not even slightly.
He was a walking testament to sheer physical power.
Even though it had been a long time since they last met, Muheon let out a short breath at his consistently burly appearance, a silent acknowledgment of Dokgo Jin’s unchanging nature.
“You’ve come.”
Muheon’s greeting was concise, a mixture of recognition and a touch of resignation.
“Yes, I’m here! What an outrageous guy you are. The rumor that you just sleep must have been false!”
Dokgo Jin smacked Muheon’s back with an arm as thick as a regular person’s thigh.
It was a force strong enough to send ordinary mythical being flying, but Muheon, being an Imugi himself, merely swayed slightly, unflustered.
Park Ge-ung and Ki Sang-oh, who stood nearby, instinctively winced at the force of the blow.
As relatively high-ranking government officials, they disliked the aggressive and informal suin of the East Sea, finding his boisterous demeanor a little too uncivilized for their tastes.
They exchanged knowing glances, a silent agreement on Dokgo Jin’s lack of decorum.
“Why are you here?”
Muheon also didn’t bother to hide his annoyance towards Dokgo Jin.
An ordinary person would be offended by his direct, almost dismissive attitude, but Dokgo Jin seemed completely unaffected, his jovial nature impervious to subtle slights.
It was impossible to tell if he was born without social awareness or if he had simply never needed to be mindful of others his entire life, his immense power granting him the luxury of straightforwardness.
Giving him hints was like reading scriptures to a cow – he just didn’t catch on.
Muheon sighed once more and gestured to Dokgo Jin, a resigned invitation to enter.
After all, he was the ruler of the East Sea, a powerful and influential figure, and despite his boorishness, Muheon had to treat him as a guest.
Following Muheon’s unenthusiastic gesture, Dokgo Jin went up to the company dormitory and looked around, his eyes wide with curiosity.
“Wow, Muheon, you’re living in a nice place, aren’t you? Should I build a building in Busan too?”
Dokgo Jin mused aloud, already contemplating his own grand projects.
“Do as you please.”
Muheon replied, his tone flat, indicating his complete indifference.
“Right, right. It’s my choice.”
Dokgo Jin, who naturally dismissed the conversation, headed to the kitchen as if it were obvious, his instincts leading him to the heart of the dwelling.
If he didn’t know, he wouldn’t know, but with rumors circulating that they had already set up house together, the kitchen was the best place to confirm it.
He was a pragmatic being, always seeking tangible evidence.
If they had combined households, there would undoubtedly be traces of them eating together, a shared domesticity.
As he wished, evidence of breakfast remained scattered throughout the kitchen – two used cups, a couple of plates, a few crumbs on the counter.
And at the fact that it was exactly enough for two people, Dokgo Jin’s shoulders twitched, a knowing grin spreading across his face.
“Wow, your wife-to-be must be a good cook?”
Dokgo Jin inquired, his voice laced with playful curiosity, already forming assumptions.
“Husband.”
Muheon corrected, his voice calm and precise, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
“Huh?”
Dokgo Jin, who had been excitedly rummaging through someone else’s kitchen, turned around with a surprised expression.
He had only heard that Muheon was getting married, but no accurate information about the partner had circulated, so he didn’t know the specifics.
“Wait, if it’s ‘husband,’ does that mean you, Muheon, are getting married to a man?”
Dokgo Jin’s eyes widened even further, a mix of genuine surprise and a hint of unexpected intrigue.
“Mmm.”
Muheon’s affirmative response came without a hint of hesitation, his expression unchanging. Dokgo Jin’s mouth fell open at the casual confirmation.
He was even more surprised, knowing Muheon to be someone who had always been indifferent to such things, his personal life a closely guarded secret.
“Huh, really…! South Korea has become very open-minded… I heard Juyeol of the South Sea’s partner this time is also a man.”
Dokgo Jin mused, processing the information aloud, drawing parallels to other prominent Imugi.
“I’m not marrying Kang Hakyung to make South Korea open-minded.”
As the conversation turned to the Imugi of the South Sea, Muheon narrowed his brows, looking distinctly displeased.
How dare anyone compare him to that philanderer?
Muheon held Juyeol in low regard, seeing his numerous casual relationships as a stark contrast to his own deep commitment.
He was devoted only to Kang Hakyung, his dedication unwavering and absolute.
Muheon, considering himself quite pure-hearted toward Kang Hakyung, snorted, a clear sign of his disdain for the comparison.