Samjong Jido – Obeying the Son
Family motto setting completed.
The current family motto set by the member is Samjong Jido.
As I decided to change the family motto, MC OP brought up that familiar screen resembling a wooden plaque. A clear sign that the setting had been updated. Staring at it, I pondered.
"I've gone ahead and changed it, but..."
Samjong Jido. Obey the husband, and with no husband, obey the son. What I wanted to see, naturally, was Hong Min-jeong submitting to me. The husband's presence was unnecessary. No—in fact, if he was around, he'd end up enjoying what I wanted for myself in my place. I had to erase him completely.
"How should I deal with the husband? Should I just... shove him down the stairs?"
But the problem was, no good method came to mind for wiping out the husband's existence. It wasn't like I could go all "I'm ascending the throne" and stab him like some dramatic figure. No matter how much this space bent to my settings, something like that wouldn't be allowed.
"Uh... hold on."
As I paced the room deep in thought, something caught my foot. Glancing down, inspiration struck in a flash. Thinking back to how the women under MC OP had behaved so far...
"This should do it."
It seemed like a surprisingly simple solution.
Dusk had settled over the house in the deep of night. Preparations complete, I called out before the master bedroom door.
"Mother, may I enter?"
"Is something the matter?"
Her leisurely voice drifted from beyond the threshold—a far cry from her earlier cautious tone, careful not to defy me.
"I have something to discuss with you briefly."
"Then come in. It's late, so open the door quietly."
At her words, I eased open the master bedroom door. In the dim room stood Hong Min-jeong, dressed not in the hanbok from before but in something else entirely. A gossamer-thin red undergarment. Seeing me, she modestly covered her chest with her hand.
"It's late, so I've changed into my nightclothes. Don't stare. Even between mother and son, there are proprieties to uphold, aren't there?"
She spoke with the solemn dignity of a proper mother. I dipped my head slightly, averting my gaze. My eyes swept the room from under lowered brows. A single candle flickered softly, illuminating her space. It hadn't changed much, but one item from earlier was gone. As I scanned about for the missing piece, she spoke.
"What are you looking around for?"
"Ah, it seems the folding screen is gone..."
"I just had Eun-bi remove it. No matter how I thought about it, it didn't seem right for a woman's room. Honestly, having an item there I had no memory of placing was unsettling too."
The vanished screen. The shifted attitude. I didn't know exactly how the motto change had taken effect, but she no longer seemed devoted to Namjon Yeobi. Still, one thing she said nagged at me.
"You have no memory of placing the screen here?"
"Just as it sounds. When I came to my senses, there was a folding screen in the room with no recollection of putting it there. The original one—who knows where it went..."
...Did changing the motto make her forget everything up to that point? Made sense. Her demeanor toward me proved she had no memory of what happened earlier. No way she could treat me this naturally if she remembered begging on all fours, shaking her ass before me.
"So, what brings you here?"
"I have a favor to ask of you."
"A favor...? It's been ages since you last asked me for anything."
She'd asked casually at first, but at "favor," her gaze drifted upward as if reminiscing. A gentle, benevolent smile graced her lips. Whatever memory she was recalling, she looked every bit the kind mother. Yet in that sheer red undergarment, she evoked a seductive courtesan stirring any man's heart. The fabric was practically transparent, her voluptuous curves starkly outlined within.
Stealing glances at her, I replied.
"Did I used to ask you for a lot of favors?"
"Until you were around ten, you pestered me every single day. Have you forgotten? Refusing to memorize letters, begging for honey cakes. Not a day went by without you whining to me."
As she smoothed her chest with her hand, the outline of her hidden nipple pressed through. Oblivious to my stare, she continued placidly.
"Back then, you sought me out constantly. But once you grew up, you never came to me again. As your mother, it's a mix of pride and loneliness—hard to put into words."
This was our first meeting, yet she spoke of a shared past as if it were real. It was just like before with her.
'I ordered your favorite hazelnut latte.'
Hong Min-jeong, rented to me via MC OP. No—Choi Mi-hye, the one loaned to me through the app. She too spoke of things I hadn't said or done as if they were ours.
At first, I thought she was referring to events with her actual husband... But no.
'Who said you could come into Mommy and Daddy's room? Wanna get in trouble?''Oppa, you like fucking last year's newlywed that much?'
Thinking it over, that wasn't it. What the rented women did was pure role-play. In the mother-son incest play, she treated me like a young son. In the affair play, like newlyweds from last year. It didn't have to make sense—hypnosis made it irrelevant to them. The moment words left their mouths, they believed them as truth.
They only said what fit the scenario and setting I'd chosen. Which meant the reverse should work too.
"After Father passed, it started feeling hard to ask you for favors. I didn't want to burden you with too much."
If they fabricated lines to fit the situation, I could just feed them the situation I wanted. As if proving it, when I said "Father passed," her eyes clouded over.
"Your father... so my husband has passed...?"
"Yes. Have you forgotten?"
"Ah, no. I was lost in thought and didn't recall right away. Yes... you stopped asking me for favors right after your father—my husband—passed. I had no idea the circumstances..."
Her eyes cleared, returning to normal. She smiled softly at me, and inwardly, I cheered. Shove him down stairs? Ascend the throne? How barbaric. When a few words could kill him off instantly.
"It's fine. I just steeled myself for it alone. Anyway, can you grant my request?"
"What is it that has you so insistent?"
"It's nothing big... I just need you to write a few characters for me."
"Write some characters?"
I pulled out the prepared folding screen for her puzzled tilt of the head. The empty one from the small side room earlier. Back then, I hadn't grasped its purpose, but now I did. Simple, really. If the family motto was applied by inscribing it on a screen, members had to be able to do it themselves too. Her husband had done it earlier while I stood by, but autonomy was surely allowed.
"Oh? You took a liking to writing mottos on screens too? Very well, I'll indulge you."
Clueless to my thoughts, she smiled graciously and fetched brush and ink from the drawer.
Scritch-scratch. With refined poise, she ground the ink and asked,
"So, what characters do you want? I know a few suitable phrases for screens, if you'd like your mother to suggest..."
"No need. I've already decided."
"Then tell me."
"Samjong Jido."
"Hmm..."
She wrote each character with care, oblivious that her own handwriting would bind her mind in hypnotic suggestion.
"Samjong Jido... such an archaic rule. Obey the father in his embrace, the husband after marriage, the son after his passing. ...Even as nobility's child, don't cling too tightly to outdated ways. To me, it doesn't fit today's world."
"Of course I know. I just wanted to confirm something briefly."
"Confirm what?"
Not yet reflecting the new motto, she chided me like a mature mother. Yet she kept writing, honoring her promise once given—a testament to her integrity.
"There, it's done."
Her handiwork completed the screen. She showed it to me with a shy smile.
"Not quite calligrapher level, but not bad. What do you think?"
I didn't answer, instead carrying the screen behind her. Her handwriting didn't matter. Only after unfolding it behind her did I speak.
"It's not me who needs to see these characters—it's you, Mother. Now, open your eyes wide and look."
"What do you—? Ah..."
She frowned as I set up the screen behind her, but as its full view entered her sight, her eyes changed. Vacant. Her dilated pupils sank into the inscription. Staring endlessly, she murmured in a voice unlike her forceful tone moments ago.
"A woman who loses her husband... obeys her son... With no husband, I... obey my son..."
Just like when her husband showed her the Namjon Yeobi screen. She repeated it over and over.
"Fusa Jongja... must obey... A woman is subordinate to men... must obey her son..."
How many repetitions? Tears streaming alongside drool, she blanked out chanting, then blinked and stopped. Regaining herself, she looked up at me cautiously.
"...I saw it well. Thank you for showing me."
With that, she shifted posture. Kneeling properly, hands demurely on her knees, she gazed up at me. I stared piercingly. An unabashed once-over of her body. Yet she said nothing, making her earlier "don't stare" ring hollow. In her sheer undergarment, only her underclothes shielded her breasts and mound. Even as my eyes lingered there, she endured silently. As if speaking without permission was forbidden. Her lips stayed sealed like a clam.
Seeing this, I asked slowly,
"Archaic rule or not, it's a 道 the ancients followed. Don't you think?"
"Your mother thinks so too. Quite right."
A satisfied smile bloomed as she answered and fell silent again. As if agreeing with me was fulfillment enough. I continued,
"Mother, spread your legs a bit."
In her see-through attire, it was tantamount to "show me your underwear." An insolent son demanding his mother expose her intimates. Yet she slowly parted her neatly folded knees.
"As you wish."
As her legs splayed wide, the thin leg coverings came into full view. Equally sheer, a few dark pubic hairs peeked through. My gaze fixated relentlessly. Noticing, she leaned forward slightly, offering a better look at her privates. No blush of shame—just a satisfied smile for obeying.
Maintaining it, she whispered,
"Samjong Jido, Fusa Jongsa—with husband gone, this house's master is you, is it not? Command me freely if there's work. I'll obey anything."
Once claiming herself the lady of the house, now she spoke as if I were her master.
"If it burdens you, think of me not as your mother, but Father's legacy. The house master is you, so how you use the inheritance is your freedom. Ah, right. Then I shouldn't speak thus."
Legs still spread, she slowly bowed low, forehead to the floor.
"Young master, I shall call you. Pray, issue your command."