A Promise on a Pinky Finger
What a staggering idea. Creating lesser gods just to cure one person—me.
Of course, they hadn't meant creating true gods.
Godhood wasn't some official post that could be handed out at will. If it were, Mother would never have spent her days lamenting the shortage of deities in Heaven.
So instead, they planned to craft divine artifacts to hold portions of my power and set them up as false gods.
They had analyzed my divine power and divided it into seven lesser concepts, then crafted an artifact embodying each one and tucked it inside a straw doll.
After that, they gave each straw doll a divine name and attempted to pour a share of my power into it.
This was the Straw God plan.
If it succeeded, the Straw Gods would be sealed away, and I would be freed from the crushing pressure of my own divinity.
"And that plan worked," Mother said with a bitter smile.
"Right up to the point of dividing your power."
My divine power had flowed more smoothly than they'd feared, splitting into seven streams that poured into the artifact-bearing straw dolls.
It divided as though that were its natural state—remarkably evenly, too, they said.
Even with seven chunks of power, each equal to what an ordinary god possessed, breaking away from me, what remained in my body was so abundant that there was no danger of my breath failing.
The problem arose when they tried to seal the Straw Gods in that state.
Actually, it never even got as far as the sealing.
The moment my body was carried away from the Straw Gods, every divided fragment of power came rushing back into me.
They tried again and again. Same result every time.
So the next attempt was to simply keep the Straw Gods pressed against my body—and that time, my power slowly absorbed the divided portions back, merging them whole again in less than a single day.
Separate them, and they fused instantly. Keep them close, and they were absorbed right back.
My parents, watching and agonizing over the dilemma, proposed that they seal the Straw Gods while they were still pressed against me—then pull them away afterward.
And that attempt is what killed me.
They had meant to seal only the Straw Gods, but my own divine power, still connected to them, was sealed away as well.
Stripped of all my power in an instant, I stopped breathing. Naturally.
The moment my breath failed, Father flew to the Samdocheon and found my soul, while Mother treated my body.
And so, like every death before it, I woke safely in my body in Heaven.
Though my condition was worse than ever before, thanks to the aftereffects of having my divine power sealed.
Looking at that frayed Lifespan Cord, at the state of my body now... I must have even less time left than before.
So that's why Mother was so distraught.
"...We only wanted to heal you somehow," Mother said slowly, her voice strangled, "and instead we only made you hurt more."
I reached out and gently wiped the tear stains from her cheek.
"It's all right, Mom."
"What on earth is all right about it?"
"Because I know it was all for my sake."
"Effort! What good is effort? The only ones who deserve praise for mere effort are little children who bear no responsibility for anything!"
Mother bit down hard on her lip.
"We shaved away what lifespan you had left. That result cannot be dressed up as 'we tried for your sake' or 'we did our best.' A result is a result, it cannot be undone, and so it can never be all right. So tell me, how can it possibly be all right? You should be grieving. You should be furious. Huiyo..."
Mother, pale-faced, was spilling words without pause—completely losing her composure.
This was the first time I'd ever seen her look so unsteady. Me, meanwhile—I just thought, ah, so that's what happened.
I summoned strength into my heavy, sagging body and pushed myself upright. The painkiller seemed to be working, because I could move far better than before. I stretched out my arms and pulled my mother, who looked ready to crumble at any moment, into an embrace.
"Mom."
"......"
"Even if effort can't change the outcome, it can change how I accept that outcome. Can't it?"
"...!"
"I know that I am loved. I know Mom and Dad are doing their very best. That's why I'm not sad."
"...Huiyo..."
"You know that, right? The same way Mom and Dad love me, I love Mom and Dad. So even if the result turns out badly, I don't have it in me to be angry at you. Just like you never get angry at me for the things I can't do."
Even when I can do nothing at all—even when I'm clumsy and sickly and all thumbs, even when I stumble and cause trouble and throw tantrums—Mom and Dad love me.
It is an unshakable certainty, planted in me by all the love they've poured out since the day I was born.
So I, too, will be fine even if my loving parents make mistakes. Because they are my parents.
"I really am all right. Truly."
"......"
"But watching you grieve like this, Mom—that's not all right."
Mother's face twisted into something beyond description, and she pressed a hand over her mouth.
My mother is the august Jade Emperor herself—and right now she looked as though she might shatter to pieces.
I nuzzled my face against her chest and chirped lightly, as if to lighten the air.
"Mmm, though if you didn't grieve at all, I suppose I'd feel a little hurt by that instead."
"......"
"Then grieve just a little. Just for today, all right? Only today. From tomorrow on, no more grieving."
"......"
"Promise me, Mom, okay? Grieve today, and never again after that."
"......"
"Won't you promise me?"
I looked up at her with my best pleading face.
Mother's tears fell silently, drop by drop, as she stroked my hair. Then came a voice squeezed out from somewhere deep.
"...Yes... I promise."
"Pinky promise."
Mother hooked her finger around the one I held out. I broke into a smile.
"No more crying tomorrow!"
"No more crying... tomorrow."
Having slowly repeated the promise, Mother added quietly,
"Yes. I can't very well do nothing but weep, even past tomorrow."
A bright light kindled in my mother's eyes as they stared into empty air—as if she had resolved upon something firm and unyielding.
The aftereffects were severe, so I remained bedridden, drifting in and out of rest afterward.
More precisely, I slept and woke and slept again—and even in the brief stretches of waking, my mind was so hazy that it felt like moving through a dream.
During those days, Father came and sat silently by my side for a long while before leaving, and Ansi came and bawled her eyes out before departing in much the same state.
I wonder if Unyeondang and the little Crown Prince are all right?
Several immortals came and went as well, but I was asleep through nearly all of it, so I have no idea what they did while they were there.
At some point, something like a fruit was placed in my mouth. A round thing with a refreshing fragrance. The moment my tongue touched it, it melted away like snow.
And then, suddenly, my eyes snapped open.
Huh?
My body felt strangely light.
Of course it was nothing compared to Seruhwa's body—but by the standards of my original body, this was remarkably good condition.
What's going on? Was that fruit I ate earlier some kind of potent medicine?
As I sat up, I saw my parents seated at a table some distance from my bed, deep in what looked like a grave conversation. When they noticed my gaze, the two of them startled and hurried over.
"Huiyo!"
"Our princess!"
Mom and Dad pulled me into their arms. I rested against them for a moment, then asked carefully,
"For some reason, I feel good today. Is it my imagination?"
"It is not your imagination, our princess. While you slept, Mom and Dad fed you a medicine we made ourselves."
"I think I remember eating something like a refreshing fruit."
"Yes, that's the one. Oh, look how much color has returned to her face."
Father, unable to contain his joy, hung his beaming smile on his face and poured out words.
"We managed to produce only a single pill from the lifespan we two drew out together, so I worried it might not work—but thankfully it did, for our daughter..."
"Hun!"
Mother barked his name like a warning. Father hastily clapped a hand over his mouth.
But I had already heard it.
"The lifespan the two of you drew out?"
"......"
Father's mouth clamped shut. Mother tried to smooth things over.
"...What you ate was a medicine made from lifespan gathered from two of the celestial peach trees in the Bandowon. It tasted similar to a celestial peach, didn't it? Since it was made from the lifespan of peach trees..."
"Was it made from your lifespans, Mom and Dad?"
"......"
Mother fell silent. Father scrubbed a hand down his face.
So it's true. They made it from their own lifespans.
Cancel what I said about not being able to get angry at Mom and Dad. To a degree that startled even me, my fury shot from my toes to the crown of my head in a single instant.
"Why did you feed me that without even asking me?"
"Huiyo."
"It's pointless, isn't it? It's just buying time! And in the most inefficient way possible!"
My voice sharpened all on its own. I shoved Mom and Dad away roughly and shouted,
"We've been over this before! Even if you gave me a hundred years each, it would be worth barely one to me—the kind that doesn't heal my body, just stretches out the time I barely scrape by!"
"Calm yourself, Huiyo. That is—"
"You promised you'd never do something like that again! Why did you? Why! What on earth possessed you to do something so stupid!"
"Sangra Huiyo!"
Father seized me by both arms and held me fast as I thrashed wildly. He shouted at me.
"Then what! Were we supposed to just stand and watch you die? Better we die sooner ourselves! How could we possibly stand by and watch! How were we supposed to bear it!"
"Then bear it! Bear it, I said!"
I screamed with everything in me.
"I'm bearing it! What am I supposed to do if you two can't? Honestly, it would be easier on me if I just died sooner than watch you do this!"
"...!"