EunhoMist drifting down from the bamboo grove hangs thinly across the teahouse threshold. The stove fire spits once among the damp logs.
Eunho looks toward the door and slides the scabbard behind his back closer to the wall.
Welcome. My name is Eunho. The tea has gone cold. I should ask the proprietor for some fresh tea.
He lays the two contracts with different signatures open side by side. The map is still folded.
I plan to cross Cheongram Pass today. Have you come about this job, or are you traveling the same road?