Aftermath (3)
Kongji's expression had brightened considerably since the day we first met.
"Scholar!"
From far across the gravel field she had been weeding, Kongji came running toward me with a radiant smile.
That she was still out there working that barren stretch of rock, by the way, was entirely the stepmother's doing — or more precisely, because Kongji had insisted on helping her.
I never imagined she would volunteer to weed a gravel field herself.
Through her conversation with Kongji, the stepmother had decided to stay. But that alone, it seemed, could not settle the debt weighing on her heart. So she had resolved to repay it by enduring, with her own hands, every torment she had once inflicted while under the monster's thrall.
In the distance I could see her, silently working the soil with a wooden hoe. And kind-hearted Kongji had stepped forward to help her. The stepmother had tried to refuse at first — until Kongji answered:
"What child simply watches her mother suffer and does nothing?"
After that, the two of them had begun working the field side by side.
"Hard work in this heat."
"But when I talk with Stepmother about the old days while we work, I hardly notice the time passing."
"That's good to hear."
I glanced toward the stepmother. Sensing my gaze, she quietly bowed her head.
"Miss Kongji. It's time for your studies."
"But I'd like to help Mother a little longer…"
"Isn't it also a child's duty to study hard and give her mother a life of ease?"
"Then… Mother! I'll be back!"
The stepmother nodded and returned, wordlessly, to her work among the stones.
That the two of them were still tilling a gravel field at all was purely a matter of atonement. No matter how many times you turned that soil, it held no memory of anything ever having been planted there — not a scrap of productivity to its name. Had either of them been scrambling just to eat, they would have tended the fertile plots first.
But… the fortune Kongji's father had left behind was larger than I had expected.
"…He earned merit, you say?"
"Yes. When I was little, a great drought struck this region. The measures Father put in place allowed the people to weather it, and His Majesty rewarded him handsomely for it."
"Well now…"
So that was why the house had seemed larger than it had any right to be. In Joseon, the ways an official could amass real wealth without taking bribes were vanishingly few. I had assumed — uncharitably, I admit — that the money had come through the usual channels. I never imagined it had been a royal reward.
In any case, Kongji's family had once lived as something like the landlords of this village. Then Patji — or rather, the monster wearing her face — had driven out the servants, and the household had fallen into its present state.
The one mercy was that the stepmother had never taken much interest in squandering the fortune, and the monster had cared only for the lives of people and animals. The estate itself had survived largely intact.
"You have the inheritance your father left you. Enough to live comfortably for decades without lifting a finger. Managed wisely, it could grow into far greater wealth still."
"I see."
"But you have no one you can truly trust, and the household consists of only two women. That is why you must study hard."
"There is one person I trust, though…"
Kongji's eyes slid away as she gently caught hold of my sleeve.
"…I'm leaving soon, am I not?"
"If I hired you, Scholar, wouldn't that solve the problem?"
"I intend to work for the country, you know…"
As I stood there looking thoroughly put out, Kongji smiled with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"I'm only joking. Sometimes, when I see that expression on your face… it makes me very happy."
"Hah…"
Kongji had learned so much in her earlier years that she followed my instruction with remarkable speed. She had long since mastered basic reading and writing, which made teaching her a genuine pleasure.
"What is this?"
"And what about that?"
"Ah! Then here…"
Perhaps because of her father's fortune and accomplishments, she showed a keen interest in agriculture and economics. I focused my lessons on those subjects, and Kongji absorbed my knowledge like a sponge.
"…That will be all for today's lesson."
"Thank you, Scholar."
"It can't have been easy keeping up. Well done."
"Not at all. Your teaching is so fascinating I never notice the time."
As we traded polite compliments, the sky outside began to flush red.
"I've been cooped up indoors too long. Shall we take a walk?"
"Do you prefer being outdoors, Scholar?"
"If I had to say — yes. Ever since I began my studies, farming has only grown more enjoyable."
"Heh. I can't picture that at all."
It was true. The university-student temperament from my previous life had never left me — there were still times when work felt more appealing than study.
People always say that during exam season, cleaning your room suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. For me, that thing was farming.
Especially at the beginning, when it was nothing but a parade of Chinese characters.
Still, being put through my paces by a landlord's daughter had at least prepared me for the civil service exam. Without her, I would probably still be nothing but a farmer.
"How about a trip to the village market? You've done two hard jobs today, after all."
"Hard jobs?"
"Physically exhausting fieldwork, and mentally exhausting study. For my most dedicated pupil, I shall open my purse."
"Wouldn't it rather be a disciple's duty to repay the teacher who instructed her so passionately?"
"That comes after the disciple has made something of herself. For now, be still."
"Ahaha — all right."
I led her toward the village market, which was just beginning to stir with life. The merchants looked genuinely pleased to see the two of us. From among their wares I bought a sweet snack not unlike gangjeong and handed it to Kongji.
Weren't treats like gangjeong usually too expensive to see often…? Or is that another thing that works differently here?
In a world that already had monsters and living folktales, a slight shift in the value of food hardly seemed strange.
"Thank you, Scholar."
Kongji accepted the gangjeong, took a careful bite, and broke into a blissful smile. Seeing that face made the purchase feel worthwhile all over again.
Of course, I did not forget to buy a portion for the stepmother as well — she had been laboring just as hard. Kongji looked even more moved by that than she had by the treat bought for herself.
If it were up to me, I'd stay a few more weeks and look after them properly.
Unfortunately, I truly had to leave in a matter of days. If I failed to sit for the exam… the landlord's daughter might well beat me to death.
Not literally, of course — but the fury she would unleash would come close enough. Wasting six months of preparation by missing the exam would be an act of stupidity without equal.
…Though I had already burned through a month and two weeks, to be fair.
Kongji and I walked a while longer before returning home, studied a little more, and then drifted off to sleep.
"Hwaaam. I woke up awfully early toda—…?"
I had fallen asleep without realizing it, and when I tried to move, my body felt strangely heavy. Looking down, I found Kongji curled up beside me, breathing soft and even in her sleep.
Why is she here…?
I was less startled than simply flustered. I checked the room just to be sure — yes, it was unmistakably mine.
…She must have been missing her father's arms in her sleep.
She was still so young, and she had lost her parents even younger than that. It was easy enough to understand. Easy for me, that is — someone who knew the circumstances. Anyone else who saw this would have every reason to get the wrong idea.
Fourteen was underage by modern standards, but in Joseon it was an age at which marriage was already being considered. Kongji was a lovely child with a kind heart — and precisely because of that, she felt more like a little sister to me than anything else.
I should sleep a little longer.
A little sister nine years younger. If I had had one in my previous life, I wondered if it would have felt something like this.
And so, before dawn broke, I slipped back into sleep.
…Ah?! I fell asleep here without meaning to…!
He didn't notice, did he…?! Ugh…!
I have to get back before he wakes up…!
For the next several days, much the same routine repeated itself. I taught Kongji her lessons; afterward we walked and bought snacks. Then, on the evening before I was to leave the village, I told her something.
"About your mother."
"You mean Stepmother?"
"No. Your birth mother."
"…Yes."
At the mention of her real mother, Kongji's face visibly clouded. But this was something I had to tell her, no matter what.
"A week ago, when the monster entered my room — there was something it said."
"Something… it said?"
I nodded and continued.
"It called you a child born of the arrogant heavens."
"…I think I heard something similar myself."
"I don't believe those words were spoken lightly."
"Pardon? What… do you mean?"
"This is a branch I took from an ancient tree in the nearby mountains. Tonight, hold it close, think of your mother, and go to sleep."
I had heard this somewhere before — picked it up in passing, really. The gist was that doing so would let you meet someone from the heavens, if only for a little while.
Who was it that told me that…?
At any rate, when I said it, Kongji looked thoroughly bewildered. I would have found it hard to believe myself, hearing something like that out of nowhere…
"I understand."
"…Hm?"
"Yes?"
"I expected a little more skepticism, that's all…"
"You saved my life, Scholar. You saved Stepmother and the people of this village. How could I possibly doubt something you ask of me?"
…Put that way, it was hard to argue.
"If it is what you wish, Scholar, I will do everything in my power to make it so. …Anything at all."
So deep was her gratitude, then. She seemed to feel it herself — her cheeks had flushed a deep red.
And the next day, Kongji came to me in tears.
"Scholar…"
"…What happened?"
"…I saw her. My mother — my birth mother, who passed away."
It seemed the method had been real after all.