My Land Is a Money Mine—7

[What? You said you were going to buy me something tasty?]

In the early hours of dawn, No. 1 came bounding out at the sound of my opening the front door, sniffed at the air, and immediately puckered up in complaint.

You could at least greet me first. Did I get back safe or not?

[Can't you tell from the fact that I'm alive? But where's the cake? The chicken? Why don't I smell anything I like?]

There's plenty of gimbap and rice balls. If you're hungry, make do with those.

The owner of Min-hee's Snack Bar had packed me a mountain of gimbap and rice balls. Apparently moved by my livestream promoting her shop, she'd whipped up snack after snack on the spot, insisting I take them. Eat some on the way, she'd said, and the rest should go in the freezer to be reheated in the microwave whenever I wanted.

Here's hoping the broadcast pays off.

A few of the people who'd watched the livestream claimed to be gourmets or self-professed tteokbokki killers, and they had commented that they'd definitely make the trip someday. But how much that promise would actually amount to, I had no way of knowing.

It'd be wonderful if it worked out. That would genuinely make me happy.

Oblivious to my thoughts, No. 1 began wheedling shamelessly.

[Did you forget I don't like gimbap? Rice balls? Seriously? Carbs are gross!]

Then don't eat them.

Maybe it was because I'd just spent the trip with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Abe, loyal to a fault, but watching No. 1 care about nothing but food made him uniquely insufferable. And, if I was honest, a little hurtful too. Your master comes home safe and sound — either act glad to see him or don't come out at all.

You do realize I almost got sliced with a knife, right?

At that, No. 1 tilted his head.

[Cho Eun-sun tried to stab you? And? Are you hurt anywhere?]

So it had finally dawned on him to worry about me. He circled around me in frantic loops, then barked out:

[Your hand!]

What? My hand?

Had something foul latched onto it without my knowing? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I held my hand out flat, and No. 1 leapt right into my palm and sat down. Was this some kind of trick — sit on your master's hand, like a dog begging?

[Your face too.]

Well, excuse me?

[Come on, your face! I need to check whether you picked up a curse anywhere.]

Soaked up a curse?

I leaned my face toward him. It was possible some curse Abe knew nothing about had attached itself to me. Abe was an onmyoji, Cho Eun-sun a shaman — and No. 1 was an evil spirit. Of the three, he was by far the strongest.

And then — prick! No. 1 rubbed his face against my cheek and started licking it with his red tongue. The rasping sandpaper texture of a cat's tongue dragged across my skin, and my whole body jolted upright of its own accord.

"What the — what did you just do?"

[No curses stuck to you, so I smeared my spit on instead. It's a sign of affection.]

"You rotten little evil spirit!"

I grabbed him under the armpits, made my scariest face, and stared him dead in both eyes. "Seriously, how are you this rotten, huh?"

[Hehehehe. That tickles.]

No. 1 wriggled and squirmed, giggling away. Apparently he knew I was only playing.

"Ha. You really are a cat."

[Huh? What is?]

"The way you rile up your master and then sit there amused with yourself. Doesn't that sound like you? Well, joke's on you — I don't even need you anymore. I could blast a shaman like Cho Eun-sun to pieces all on my own now."

And why stop at Cho Eun-sun? A new confidence had taken root in me — the sure feeling that I could hold my own against even stronger curse-mongers and evil spirits. I set No. 1 down on the floor and said:

"No point in keeping an evil spirit around who doesn't listen and cares about nothing but his next meal."

With that, I turned to fetch the luggage I'd left by the front door. No. 1 had come charging over screeching about curses, so I'd dumped everything right there.

The next moment —

[Master, I'm sorry! I'll be good! I won't care so much about food anymore. No more pranks, I'll do whatever you say!]

No. 1 clutched the hem of my trousers, eyes brimming with tears.

[Don't throw me away. Please don't terminate the contract.]

I looked down at him, eyes narrowing. You'll keep your word? No trouble, and you'll do as I say?

[Yes! I swear it. So please don't throw me away.]

Terrified of being abandoned, No. 1 sniffled and sobbed. He was cute enough to make Puss in Boots look like a mangy alley cat.

I was joking, you know.

[Wh-what?]

Just messing with you. Wanted to check how fond of you I am.

At my chuckling, No. 1 blinked rapidly. Then he caught on that I hadn't meant a word of it, wrinkled his nose, and bared his fangs.

[You're so mean, Master.]

"Hahaha. I started it? You started it first, if I recall."

Laughing, I carried in the luggage and set it on the table. I stowed my clothes and odds and ends on the sofa for now, then pulled out the gimbap and rice balls the snack bar owner had packed for me.

"Ooh, this looks good."

I left out only what we'd eat now and put the rest in the freezer, then fetched chopsticks and kimchi and settled back into my seat.

"Shall we start with the tuna gimbap?"

The owner had clearly brushed the seaweed generously with sesame oil — it gleamed. I took a bite. The mild tuna and mayonnaise, the perilla leaf and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cucumber, all folded together into a proper symphony with every chew.

"Mm, delicious. Aren't you eating?"

[I am!]

No. 1 leapt onto the table and fell to nibbling the tuna gimbap with evident relish. It seemed to suit his taste after all — unlike his whining a moment ago, he ate beautifully.

Anything happen while I was gone? Report while you eat.

[The beans have set fruit.]

So the soybeans had finally taken in moisture and begun bearing pods.

And?

[Grandpa Hosik carried hives out to every corner of the fields so more fruit would set. So those blasted bees are swarming everywhere now.]

Grandpa Hosik had said that once the buckwheat flowers fell, he'd head into the mountains to harvest seokcheong — the wild hives bees build in rock crevices. Honey from those was thick and rich, he'd told me, packed with royal jelly and pollen. He'd mentioned that when he harvested, he always caught the queen and split the colony into new hives, and it sounded like he'd succeeded. Which was why he'd been able to place so many hives across my fields.

And? Anything else?

[Chai seems to like the house he moved into. Except for work hours and when he comes to feed my kittens, he never leaves the place.]

I meant incidents. Accidents. Anything like that?

[Of course... nothing.]

According to No. 1, the only things worth reporting were beans setting fruit, bees buzzing about, and the weather turning hot — there wasn't even an incident to bring up. I snorted a laugh.

"Right. What incident could there possibly be?"

It was the countryside, after all. And this was Ugok 1-ri — the land where I had driven out the ghosts and planted my roots.

"It's so good to be home."

From the next day on, I was in constant motion. I walked every one of my fields, then stopped by to thank Grandpa Hosik for bringing over the beehives.

Chai's new house had, in the span of a few days, transformed into a little slice of Thailand. He'd been hauling wood down from the mountain, sawing it up, and crafting one decoration after another.

"I love this house. The valley is so close, too. Very good."

You'll need to air it out well. Run the dehumidifier at night, every night, without fail. Otherwise you'll get mold.

"Chai will keep mold from growing. I want to bring my mother here and show her."

When he said he wanted to bring his mother over from Thailand and spend a few days with her, I kicked myself. I should have brought her over long ago and let Chai show his filial devotion.

Now that I'd actually done my own duty as a son, I understood. Taking good care of your parents and being praised for it — that happiness doesn't fade with age. It stays.

Good. Once the soybean harvest wraps up and the fields rest for a spell, invite your mother over. I'll buy her plane ticket.

"Thank you. Chai will work even harder!"

Chai pressed his palms together and bowed his head to me again and again.

Of course.

Leaving Chai's house, I made my way up the village road. I needed to get home and start building the website for Ugok's Yard.

Shhhhaaaaaaa.

A wind came sweeping down from the mountain ridges and set the soybean leaves rippling in waves. That tide of green surged through my chest.

"A bountiful year."

My heart swelled to the brim. I was so very happy.

The moment the Ugok's Yard website went live, visitors began flooding in. Concurrent traffic exploded so fast that my cursor actually froze while I was trying to write a post on the board.

I'd better prepare for the site crashing, shouldn't I?

I requested an emergency server expansion from the hosting company and discussed contingency plans afterward.

Ding!

Any post that racked up ten likes became a "best post," and the sound of those posts being born was pinging across my computer.

I clicked into the best post to find a screenshot of my video promoting Min-hee's Snack Bar. It was written by Min-hee, the owner's daughter.

Oh, this is so embarrassing.

My face flushed hot. But the response to Min-hee's post was blazing.

Ding!

Another alarm rang out — a new best post had appeared.

A regular of the shop had posted its full menu alongside photos — gimbap, rice balls, tteokbokki, the works. Reading through the comments, quite a few ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠people had actually been to Min-hee's, and they were followed by a stream of commenters promising to visit for the first time.

Ding! Ding!

The best posts just kept multiplying. One announcing that the opening of Ugok's Yard cafe wasn't far off. One demanding that everyone shower "good-deed machine Kim Yunho" with cash. Even one declaring that any fan of Seo Jinwoo ought to become a fan of Kim Yunho, sharing my channel link. Post after post cheering me on filled the board.

I hadn't even opened for business yet, and already I could see the shape of something enormous coming.

I should hire more staff.

I logged into the website with my administrator account and put up a vacancy rental listing.

After posting the rental listing, I headed straight for the cafe. The interior repairs were completely finished, and the woodworking glue I'd left behind had all dried in my absence.

I flipped on the lights and started cleaning.

"When did you get here? Goodness, you could at least announce yourself."

Mrs. Han Su-ja and Ms. Han Mija walked into the cafe, both of them armed with rubber gloves and rags.

Oh, I came last night and I've been busy working all day. What brings you two here?

"What do you think? We came to clean. Mija, you start on the windows."

Mrs. Han Su-ja issued orders to Ms. Han Mija as if the place were her own shop, and Ms. Mija promptly set to wiping the windows. "Oh — I can do that part, really..."

"The tap — we can use that one, right?"

Mrs. Han Su-ja was already in the kitchen, pulling out glass cups and polishing them.

"Uncle!"

"Mister."

Bang Seongeun, Bang Seonghyun, and even Bang Jeongsoo came filing in and started cleaning alongside everyone else.

"Young Yunho, about those flowers in the yard — think it's all right to plant these?"

The Village Head and Grandpa Hosik had dug up wildflowers and carried them over.

"Th-thank you."

"That's my line. To think our village got somewhere this beautiful. Haha! I'm over the moon, honestly!"

"You just worry about that job of yours — roasting the coffee."

As if the Village Head and Grandpa Hosik weren't enough, Grandfather Sang-jong came in too, a potted plant in each hand, saying the cafe would look lovely with a few pots here and there.

"Thank you so much!"

After greeting everyone, I began roasting green coffee beans.

And so, with every last preparation complete, the day we finally opened the cafe arrived.