Heavenly Bond Between Spring and Summer
Strangers at first sight, but connected by a heavenly kinship!? ……………
"Um, wouldn't that be too much of a burden?"
Kim Bom and I had only met yesterday. And now she was offering to let me stay at her house and shop to work on my emoticon project. Of course, it was incredibly kind of her. But still, wasn't this taking advantage way too much? Even rural hospitality had its limits. It felt like I was turning into that shameless, entitled neighbor.
"Not at all! It's no burden whatsoever."
Kim Bom shook her head firmly. Her response was immediate, as if she'd anticipated I'd say something like that.
"I'm the one who wants this. City folk might not get it, but rural life is always short on entertainment. Being alone in the shop and house gets so boring. I've always wished for someone to hang out with."
Her expression seemed genuine. It didn't feel like polite flattery or an insincere invitation.
Hmm... What if I refuse? Can I manage on my own?
My mind started running calculations. From Huhaeri Village to the town center on foot would take one to two hours each way—up to four hours round trip. Traversing that daily in Yeoreum's body was next to impossible. She'd nearly collapsed climbing a single hill yesterday. Four hours of walking? No way.
I wouldn't last a week.
And there were bigger issues. Even if I somehow made it to town, without Kim Bom's help, I'd be hopping between PC bangs and cafes. Rural or not, those places weren't cheap. Factoring in usage fees and drinks, it'd cost at least ten thousand won a day.
And taking half a month off work...
The real problem was freelance gigs. Yeoreum wasn't a hit artist. She was barely scraping by. Freelancers at her level were a dime a dozen. Skip a month of work, and who knows how long it'd take to land new jobs.
Kim Bom watched my silence patiently. Unlike when she spoke to me, her face held a strangely calm composure.
After careful deliberation, I reached my conclusion. Relying on her kindness was pretty much my only option right now.
I hesitated before opening my mouth. "Um... is it really okay? I'm sorry, but I think I have to impose..."
"Of course! I'm thrilled, actually. The house and shop are too quiet—it's lonely."
Kim Bom's face suddenly lit up with a spreading smile. She looked genuinely delighted.
"Thank you so much. I'll only impose until the internet gets set up."
"Don't say 'until then'! You're welcome anytime. Come on, let me show you my shop while we're at it. It's right nearby."
Her eyes sparkled. "It's small, but there's plenty of space for you to work, Yeoreum."
……………
We left the somewhat quiet town center and turned into an even more secluded alley. Shops thinned out, replaced by old houses. The road narrowed to barely enough for an electric scooter.
Pretty remote for a shop.
At the alley's end, Kim Bom stopped in front of a small hanok building.
"Whoa... it's got real atmosphere."
I hadn't expected a hanok in town. Tiled roof, wooden walls, traditional lattice windows. A genuine hanok, rare even in the city. Modest in size but impeccably maintained and clean.
A small signboard above the door caught my eye.
[Chunha Shrine]
Chunha... Spring and Summer?
Kim Bom parked the scooter and got off. I followed suit. She placed her hand on the door latch but paused before opening it, turning to face me.
This time, she wasn't wearing her usual bright smile. Her expression turned solemn and reverent.
"Yeoreum."
She looked me straight in the eye. Her voice was low and steady, different from before.
"Do you... believe in gods?"
"...Pardon?"
The question came out of nowhere. We'd been talking internet, then she said she'd show me the shop, and now religion?
Gods, huh.
The three goddesses who hurled me into this hellish trial sprang to mind. The voluptuous Love Goddess, the luxury-clad Family Goddess, the sharp-suited Victory Goddess. Transcendent beings, no doubt. They'd sent me to another world, turned me into someone else.
Before that, I'd been a near-atheist. But now? I couldn't deny gods existed. I'd met them face-to-face.
A wry smile tugged at my lips. "Yes. Gods... souls... I believe they definitely exist."
My answer carried a note of resignation.
Meanwhile, Kim Bom's face brightened in an instant, like she'd passed some test and felt relieved.
"That's great! So many men think shamanism is all a scam."
She gripped the latch. "Truth is, this shop is exactly that kind of place. Don't be shocked, okay?"
Shamanism?
That's when it clicked. The meaning of "shrine" on the sign. Kim Bom's shop was a fortune-telling den.
……………
The door swung open, and incense hit my nose. Unlike the serene hanok exterior, the inside was vibrant—or more accurately, crammed.
Red and yellow talismans plastered the walls. Colorful cloths dangled from the ceiling. In the corners, brass bells, incense burners, candlesticks, rice bowls, and prayer beads stood neatly arrayed.
Whoa... a real shaman's place.
A fortune-telling shop straight out of TV. And so authentic up close—it was fascinating.
"First time seeing one?"
Kim Bom eyed my reaction.
"Yeah. It's amazing. So this is where you work."
"Pays better than you'd think. The industry's booming lately."
Come to think of it, I'd read in some past-life newspaper that shamans had quadrupled in the last twenty years. Yeoreum's world, Han Minseo's world—they were near-identical parallel versions of Earth's Korea. Probably the same here.
"Oh, right! Since you're here, want a reading?"
Kim Bom clapped her hands. "As a welcome to your new neighbor, I'll check your love luck. On the house!"
"Love luck?"
Honestly, romance was a luxury in Yeoreum's situation. But now that I was her, things were different. To pass the goddesses' trials, I needed to fall in love with someone.
"Yes! Moving to a rural spot like this might've shifted your fortunes from city life. Who knows what connections await."
She pointed to a cushion before the altar. "Have a seat."
I sat half-dubious. She settled opposite me.
A shaman in a sundress...
White sundress and straw hat? The shamans online wore ornate ritual robes and topknots. Or hanbok skirts.
Well, sundresses are white, mourning clothes are white. Close enough.
As trivial thoughts flitted by, Kim Bom picked up a brass bell from beside her.
Ding, ding, ding.
The clear chime filled the space. After three shakes, she scooped rice grains from a bamboo container, scattering them on a wooden tray.
With a serious expression, she peered at the grains' pattern. Occasionally tilting her head, as if deciphering something.
She's got acting chops. Years of running the business, I guess.
"Oho..."
A smile curved her lips. A peculiar one.
"An intriguing reading."
"What does it say?"
"Spring and summer are connected. They must be... that's what it says."
"Pardon?"
"Like the natural order: spring fades into summer, summer yields back to spring."
"………."
My name: Yeoreum—Summer. Hers: Bom—Spring. This wasn't a fortune; it was wordplay.
"And a forgotten heavenly kinship has newly appeared, right by your side. Within arm's reach."
Arm's reach? That was exactly our distance now.
She's totally talking about herself.
I'm not oblivious. Spring and summer connected, heavenly kinship right beside you.
Cute pitch.
Though "heavenly kinship" felt off. That term meant parent-child or sibling bonds. In this context, "match made in heaven" would've fit better. Probably just a rural vocab slip-up.
Still, flirting via fortune-telling had its charm. I chuckled.
Obvious pun, but the bluntness felt pure and endearing.
"Haha... Spring and Summer. Fun interpretation."
"Right? Isn't it amazing?"
Kim Bom laughed along, bright and innocent.
"Neat fortune. Internet woes had me down, but you've cheered me up, Bom."
"Glad to hear it."
We smiled at each other. Warm and harmonious.
But something about it—her eyes didn't seem to be smiling. Probably just my imagination.