The wolves had stopped howling for a while now, but Eunwoo is still thinking about Minjun and his unborn child. He knows the child is his because after being kicked out of the Capital and stripped of his Royal titles, he slept with Minjun on multiple occasions to satisfy his sexual desires.

Recalling his past life, Eunwoo is frustrated and angry at his selfishness and stupidity. He feels as though the very fabric of physics is making obstacles he can't jump or climb over. He can't run away or kill himself because he worries about the child Minjun is carrying. 

“Minjun! Minjun!” 

The young man flutters his lashes, waking up. Eunwoo sighs, “Rest. I'll go see what people want from you.”

Eunwoo goes out and sees village women and second-class men by the fence. They wear confused faces when they see that it isn't Minjun coming out to greet them. And as soon as Eunwoo walks closer to them, they run away. 

Too tired to chase and inquire, Eunwoo returns to the little kitchen and prepares a meal. This time, he can see the entirety and notices the hanging garlic cloves, bay leaves, and dried fish.

He opens the half-full rice jar. He sighs and makes a meal of rice and fish soup enough for two and a half. Then he returns to the other room where Minjun is still obediently resting. 

“Sit up and eat. You must get better soon,” Eunwoo places the tray of food beside the gung and goes to help Minjun sit up.

Minjun glares into Eunwoo’s dark eyes and reaches for his sword hidden behind a drawer, “Who are you! What did you do to the Prince!”

With a sword on Eunwoo's neck, he recalls all of Minjun’s merits in the military. Yet he calms his nerves first and speaks quietly, “I do not intend to hide anything from you. I am Kim Eunwoo who was once the Third Prince of Silla. But I had died, lived another life, and returned to repay you my debt. How can I convince you of my circumstances?”

“I don't know. I also don't know the Prince in that way to confirm any childhood memories. And anything I know about the Prince is also known to the public. Return to your Masters and bring back the real Prince or I'll end your life here.”

“I am Kim Eunwoo. Here, touch my face. Does it feel like a mask to you? Who has the luxury to track down a look-like to deceive the male wife of a denounced Prince?” Eunwoo sticks out his face for Minjun to touch and see.

However, Minjun is not convinced, “Do you not think that a denounced Prince and General wouldn't have assassins? I've killed hundreds if not thousands. I have a lot of enemies.”

“On your left butt cheek, there is a birthmark the shape of a peach blossom and the size of a jade pearl!” Eunwoo's cheeks are flushed with blood in embarrassment. 

Minjun returns the sword to its sheath and averts his eyes. It is obvious to him that only the real Kim Eunwoo knows of this birthmark and its location. 

“L—Let's eat,” Eunwoo moves to face Minjun and offers a bowl of rice and chopsticks to Minjun. They eat the fish and porridge in silence, each too ashamed to speak up. 

However, after Minjun is full, he asks, “Why would Your Highness return to this world? Your Highness hated it here... What debt does Your Highness owe to this subject?”

“Why are you speaking so formally again? When it’s just us… Call me directly. Eunwoo. Like that.” Then he notices Minjun’s shaky right hand that has already resigned a pair of chopsticks and picks a piece of fish into Minjun’s bowl, “Eat more. You’re eating for one and a half. Or is my cooking not to your taste?”

“No, just a little salty.” Minjun steals a glance at Eunwoo and onto the piece of fish. He feels that this person is not the same as before. Feeling a little soft, he picks up his chopsticks and eats a few more bites.

“Salty?” Eunwoo brings a spoonful of soup to his lips, “You are still feverish and must’ve lost your taste buds. I can barely taste the salt. Anyway, I don’t know why I’ve returned. I only thought that I must’ve owed you and our child an enormous debt. A debt so great that—”

He cuts his sentence short, feeling that he is not ready to explore what his debt is. This person who he had tortured once before does not seem to pin any sins onto him, making Eunwoo feel even more guilty. The pressure to be a good husband for Minjun and a good father for their unborn child are draining away Eunwoo’s soul. Minjun is unwell and pregnant while Eunwoo does not even have a bronze coin to his name. 

“This subject… I am better now. I’ll go wash the dishes—”

“Rest. I’ll do it,” Eunwoo takes the dishes away and sighs alone in the kitchen. 

How is he supposed to make a living in this world? He was a carefree Prince and then a physicist. Is he supposed to care for Minjun and their child with the knowledge of the future? No, he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t change the course of history for his selfishness, right? 

After washing the dishes, Eunwoo goes to the center of the yard and begins doing some kneeling push-ups and simple exercises since his body had not exercised in a long time. 

In the distance, he can hear muted waves of laughter and gossip between women and second-class men. When they come to the fence again and are about to shout Minjun’s name, they see Eunwoo and run back like slobs. Eunwoo can only guess why these people are scared of him and in need of his spouse.

Eunwoo goes to have a cold wash using the well in the backyard. Then he begins preparing another meal for lunch since starting a fire by himself takes a while. He tries to incorporate the pickled vegetables he found in rows and rows of jars in the backyard. Perhaps, this is the reason why those women and second-class men were calling for his spouse.

“Your Highness needn't do these things for the subject,” Minjun sits up as soon as Eunwoo slides open the door with a tray of food in his hands. 

Eunwoo chuckles and places down the tray of food, “Call me Eunwoo when it's just the two of us.”

Minjun forms a warm smile on his face and accepts the meal. Eunwoo sees that Minjun smiles so he naturally has a satisfying feeling in his heart. He is glad that Minjun can smile even with the trauma that he had caused him.

“Earlier, you have mentioned to me that we have assassins after us. I've been thinking about it and I would like to know if ever since we moved here, did we—did you encounter any assassins?”

“Hm?” Minjun slurps in pickled mustard green, “I… I have. About once every other month. There should be one in a few days.”

“Why haven't you told me this? Have you been—” 

Again, Eunwoo cuts himself off because his old self was a detestable person. Minjun hadn't told him before because what was he going to do with this information? Betray Minjun to save his own life? 

“I'm sorry that you went through all of that alone,” Eunwoo swallows his bowl empty. “Let me feed you until your arm is healed.”

“Ah! No, this—I can feed myself.” As soon as Minjun tries to protest, Eunwoo scoops up some soup to Minjun’s lips. “Thank you.”

“Your pickles are delicious. In the time that I traveled to, you would've made a lot of money. No, in any timeline, your pickles are delicious. Who taught you?”

“I learned from my noona.”

“You have a noona? What is she like?”

“My noona is like a goddess.” Minjun’s already weak smile fades a little, and the sweet bitterness hidden in his heart surges as he recalls the woman that raised him. 

“She must be one.” Then Eunwoo tries to change the topic, “How many more months until the child is due? I want to know how many months I have.”

Minjun knits his brows, “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you want to know how many months you have?”

“To prepare. Buying clothes, diapers, milk, and stuff like that. I don't have any money at the moment and would like to know how much I can pace myself.”