Transmigratied : In This Second Life ( TAEKOOK FF )

Chapter 3: The First Visit to the Market

The next morning, the sky was covered in a thin veil of mist.

The ground was still damp from last night’s rain, leaving the air cool and fresh.

Taehyung stood by the wooden cart, his hands loosely clasped in front of him, watching as Jungkook adjusted the harness on the old, steady ox. Jungkook worked silently, his movements practiced and efficient, tying knots, checking the wheels.

“We’ll leave now,” Jungkook said after a moment, his voice steady but not unkind.

Taehyung simply nodded and stepped into the cart, sitting quietly on the rough wooden bench.

Jungkook climbed up beside him, giving a gentle tug on the reins.

The ox moved at an unhurried pace, its hooves making soft, rhythmic sounds against the dirt road.

Neither of them spoke much.

The silence between them wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was like walking beside a stranger with whom you shared no memories, no inside jokes—only a shared path.

Taehyung sat with his hands resting in his lap, his eyes carefully taking in the village and the winding road that led to the nearby town.

Along the way, they passed a few scattered homes, villagers carrying baskets on their backs, and children playing with wooden hoops. Every now and then, Taehyung caught faint snippets of conversation—about the price of rice, about a neighbor’s illness, about waiting days for someone to bring salt from town.

His brows furrowed slightly.

Was there no regular supply route? Did people really wait days for basic goods?

The thought lingered quietly in the back of his mind.

It was something he would remember.

By the time they reached the town market, the streets were already alive with the sounds of merchants shouting, pots clanging, and the soft crunch of footsteps on gravel. Stalls lined both sides of the main road—selling vegetables, cloth, pottery, and bundles of herbs.

Jungkook tied the ox to a post and turned to Taehyung.

"Take your time. I’ll be at the grain stall."

Taehyung hesitated for a second. "I… I don’t have any coins."

Jungkook glanced at him, then silently pulled a small cloth pouch from his sleeve and handed it over. It wasn’t heavy—likely only a few coins inside.

"If you need anything, use this."

His voice was calm, without question or expectation.

Taehyung’s fingers tightened around the pouch. “Thank you.”

With a small nod, Jungkook turned and walked toward the grain merchant.

Taehyung stood still for a moment, watching Jungkook’s back disappear into the crowd. He didn’t know what this man was thinking—so quiet, so distant—but at least he wasn’t cruel. There was no warmth, but there was no coldness either.

Only space.

Space Taehyung didn’t know how to fill yet.

Slowly, Taehyung wandered through the market.

He picked up simple things—a bundle of green onions, some sweet potatoes, a small jar of soybean paste.

As he walked, he noticed that many of the shopkeepers were waiting on delayed deliveries. Some had run out of stock. Some had to send people on foot to fetch things from nearby villages.

The transport system here was… lacking.

Things moved slowly.

People depended on passing merchants and occasional carts.

There was no one who regularly brought goods from the town to the smaller villages.

His mind began to turn.

Would it be possible?

A simple cart service, running between the villages and town every few days?

It was not a grand idea. It was not flashy. But… it was needed.

He tucked the thought away carefully.

Maybe, someday, he would mention it to Jungkook.

When Taehyung returned to the cart, Jungkook was already waiting, loading a sack of grain onto the back.

Without a word, Jungkook helped Taehyung into the cart, taking the small basket from his hands and placing it safely beside him.

On the ride home, the silence between them felt a little less stiff.

Still quiet, still distant—but perhaps… a little softer.

When they returned home, Taehyung began preparing lunch. His hands were still clumsy in this world’s kitchen, but he managed to make a simple vegetable soup and steamed sweet potatoes.

When he set the bowl in front of Jungkook, the man only glanced up briefly.

“You bought sweet potatoes.”

Taehyung offered a small nod. “They looked fresh.”

Jungkook hummed softly and picked up his chopsticks.

There was no grand praise.

No warm smile.

But as they ate in quiet together, it no longer felt like they were two people living in separate houses.

It felt like the very beginning of something small.

Something that might, one day, become a home.

To be continued

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