Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 133: Hanbok and Historical Romance

Chapter 133: Hanbok and Historical Romance

"In which historical accuracy meets matchmaking sabotage."

Seoul in spring looked like something out of a dream.

The palace grounds stretched out before them in endless layers of ancient stone courtyards, lacquered red gates, and soaring tiled rooftops, framed by soft pink cherry blossoms drifting lazily in the morning breeze.

It smelled faintly of woodsmoke, fresh pine, and the unmistakable sweetness of blooming azaleas. Somewhere in the distance, a traditional gayageum string melody floated through the air, as if the entire world had politely decided to soundtrack itself for maximum emotional impact.

Ava adjusted the delicate silver binyeo hairpin tucked into her updo and tried not to gape like a tourist.

They were standing at the entrance of Gyeongbokgung Palace—reserved exclusively for today’s matchmaking event—dressed head-to-toe in traditional hanbok, looking like they’d been plucked out of a K-drama casting call.

Ava’s hanbok was breathtaking: a pale sky-blue jeogori with intricate gold thread embroidery, paired with a full, flowing white chima that rippled like river silk when she moved.

Ryan, beside her, wore a deep charcoal-gray durumagi with silver accents, tied neatly with a navy sash. His dark hair was brushed back cleanly, his posture loose but powerful.

He looked unfairly good.

Ava cleared her throat. "You know you’re contractually obligated to trip over at least once today to balance the visual scale, right?"

Ryan smirked, offering his arm. "Only if you catch me, jagiya."

Her heart did an undignified little stutter at the pet name.

(Sweetheart. In Korean. He’d been studying.)

Before she could respond, chaos descended.

Mei stormed toward them from across the courtyard, her own hanbok a dramatic sunset-red, clutching a feathered folding fan like a weapon.

Behind her, Madam Choi followed at a dignified pace, wearing dark plum silk and the sharpest side-eye Ava had ever seen deployed on a sunny morning.

"You’re wrinkling her sash!" Mei hissed at Ryan the moment she was within striking range, flapping the fan between them.

"I’m literally not touching it," Ryan protested, hands up like a man falsely accused.

"You’re wrinkling it with your energy!" Mei barked.

Madam Choi sniffed, inspecting Ava like she was evaluating a racehorse. "Skirt’s too long. She’ll trip during the procession."

"I won’t trip," Ava said quickly.

"You will trip," Madam Choi said with grim certainty. "And then you’ll have two options: cry, or look dramatic and tragic enough for gossip magazines."

Mei fanned herself vigorously. "I bet she pulls it off. Ten to one."

"Twenty to one she falls into the koi pond," Choi countered dryly.

"Done," Mei chirped.

Ryan coughed, struggling not to laugh. "Are they... betting on you?"

"Don’t look at them. It only encourages them," Ava muttered, taking his arm.

Summit staff, dressed in modernized hanbok with discreet earpieces, herded participants toward the main courtyard where a lacquered dais had been erected under a massive painted dragon canopy.

The announcer’s voice rang out, cheerful and bright:

"Welcome to the Hanbok & Historical Romance Challenge!

Today, matchmakers must guide their clients through traditional palace courtship games!"

Ava blinked. "Courtship games?"

Ryan grinned. "Sounds safer than contract marriages."

The staff began handing out scrolls at random.

Ava opened theirs and read aloud:

"Demonstrate the Five Acts of Affection: Trust, Honor, Devotion, Playfulness, and Respect—through selected activities. Bonus points for authenticity and emotional sincerity!"

She groaned. "They made romance into a scavenger hunt."

"And we’re going to crush it," Ryan said confidently.

"Because we’re professionals?"

He winked. "Because you already look like you stepped out of a legend."

Her face heated under the spring sunlight.

Before she could recover, another announcement cut through the courtyard:

"Pairings will be demonstrated by our model couple volunteers!"

Heads turned.

Staff members pointed at them.

Ava and Ryan.

Of course.

Ava whispered, "I swear to god, Mei bribed them."

Ryan offered his hand, low and courtly. "Ready to be Exhibit A?"

She slipped her fingers into his, suppressing a smile.

"Let’s scandalize the historians."

The Games Begin

Their first task: Trust.

They were instructed to navigate a blindfolded walk across the stone courtyard, with Ava leading Ryan purely by voice.

Ryan tied the soft cloth over his eyes, lips quirking. "You sure you don’t want to leave me here?"

"Tempting," Ava muttered, circling him like a lioness. "But you’d find a way to make it look sexy."

Laughter rippled through the audience.

Summoning her most imperious voice, Ava commanded, "Three steps forward, Oppa."

Ryan obeyed instantly, a grin tugging at his mouth even blindfolded.

"Left," she said.

He took a perfect pivot.

"Right," she added, unable to resist.

He turned again—directly into her waiting arms, catching her against his chest.

The crowd cheered.

Ava huffed, flushed and breathless. "You cheated."

"You gave bad directions," he murmured, not letting her go.

"You’re lucky you’re cute," she grumbled, shoving him lightly as the announcer laughed along.

Next would come the Playfulness round—where they would have to reenact a sword fight with foam swords.

Ava caught Ryan’s sly smile and immediately regretted everything.

He bowed low, offering her the wooden sword with exaggerated gallantry. "Prepare to be bested, my lady."

"You’re about to lose your honor and your dignity," she promised sweetly.

Ryan twirled the sword once in his palm, looking far too confident for someone about to be publicly humiliated.

Ava’s heart soared.

This was her kind of battlefield.

---

Ava rolled the wooden sword between her palms, testing the balance.

It wasn’t much heavier than a baton, but somehow, standing there in the ancient stone courtyard under the morning sun, it felt important. Like tradition demanded a little drama.

Across from her, Ryan spun his sword once, flashing a cocky grin.

"You sure you’re ready for this, jagiya?" he teased.

"You’re about to eat those words, oppa," Ava fired back, stepping lightly over the flagstones.

The crowd around the courtyard began to murmur excitedly, word spreading fast among the summit attendees that the American matchmaker and her ’oppa fiancé’ were about to duel.

Traditional drummers positioned along the palace gates began a slow, rhythmic beat—doom, doom, doom—giving the scene a ridiculously cinematic feel.

Ava narrowed her eyes.

Ryan saluted her with the foam sword like a knight swearing fealty... or promising mischief.

"First to three taps wins," the referee called. "Gentle hits only!"

Ava dipped into a graceful bow.

Then lunged.

Ryan dodged the first strike by sheer luck, laughing as he stumbled backward over the uneven stones.

"You’re vicious!" he called.

"You’re slow," Ava called back, advancing with quick, darting steps that made her skirts swirl dramatically.

From somewhere behind the crowd, she heard Mei’s piercing voice:

"Use your hips, Ava! Power comes from the hips!"

Madam Choi immediately countered, dry as winter wind:

"She’s already using her brain. The hips are bonus points."

Laughter erupted among the matchmakers and dignitaries gathered around the stone courtyard.

Ryan tried to pivot into a defensive stance—too late.

Tap!

Ava’s sword bounced lightly against his chest.

"One!" the referee called.

Ryan grinned, backing away. "That was luck."

Ava smiled sweetly. "Sure, oppa."

She darted in again—deceptively fast for someone wearing three layers of silk.

Ryan faked left. Ava anticipated it, spinning low and tapping the back of his thigh.

Tap!

"Two!" called the referee.

The crowd whooped.

"That’s my granddaughter!" Mei shrieked proudly, practically vibrating with glee.

"She’s going to crush his spirit like she crushed my stubbornness when she refused to learn piano!"

Madam Choi added calmly, "At least she didn’t take up interpretive dance. There’s still hope for dignity."

Ryan backed up, laughing breathlessly now. His hanbok fluttered around him, catching the wind, making him look unfairly heroic even while losing.

Ava advanced, sword at the ready.

"You want to forfeit?" she offered sweetly.

Ryan raised a hand dramatically to his chest. "Never. I’ll go down fighting."

The drummers picked up speed.

So did Ava.

He swung—careful, restrained, trying not to actually hit her—and she ducked under it effortlessly, pivoted, and rapped the side of his ribs with a clean, satisfying whap.

Tap!

"Three! Ava wins!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, polite applause mixed with delighted laughter.

Ryan staggered back, pretending to swoon in defeat.

He collapsed onto a stone bench with a groan. "Marry me. Please. Save my dignity."

Ava twirled her foam sword once and bowed deeply over her triumph, hairpin glittering in the sun.

"You’re lucky you’re pretty," she said smugly, offering him her hand.

Ryan took it, pulling himself up with exaggerated drama.

Mei elbowed Madam Choi triumphantly. "I told you she wouldn’t trip!"

"You owe me lunch," Choi said grimly, already pulling out her phone to look up palace tea house reservations.

---

Ava and Ryan ducked behind one of the courtyard’s curved stone pavilions to catch their breath before the next round of matchmaking events.

Ryan leaned against the wall, grinning like a man thoroughly and happily defeated.

"You know," he said, still breathless, "I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on by losing."

Ava nearly choked on her own spit.

"Oppa!" she hissed, scandalized and thrilled at once.

He shrugged shamelessly, stepping closer. "You wore hanbok. You beat me with a sword. I’m only human."

Their noses brushed lightly. For a moment, the scent of pine and blossoms blurred into the heady air between them.

"You," Ava murmured, "are dangerous."

"And you," Ryan said, voice dropping, "are absolutely unstoppable."

Before she could close the distance—or maybe she was about to—someone clapped sharply nearby.

"Break it up, lovebirds!" Mei’s voice cut through the magic like a butter knife. "There are matchmaking games to win, and honor to defend!"

Madam Choi added from behind her, tone dry, "And possibly more sword fights, if you lose your focus."

Ava groaned. "I’m surrounded."

Ryan laughed, offering his arm again. "Come on, jagiya. Let’s go break some more hearts."

Ava linked her hand through his elbow, feeling unstoppable indeed.

The games had just begun.

And Seoul?

Seoul wasn’t ready.