The Lucky Charm’s Warning
My lord has departed.
Ah… Though I harbor no love for him, my King has nonetheless departed.
Once Sukjong left, a cloud of gloom settled over me. Consort Jang’s disappointment was bound to be immeasurable, and the prospect of facing her filled me with dread. Having to explain why I had accompanied the King was headache enough, but far more troubling was the chilling detachment Sukjong had displayed toward her. My heart ached all the more remembering how radiant her face had been the instant she caught sight of him.
…My scalp is prickling.
Feeling the weight of an intense gaze, I hesitated before gingerly turning my head.
“Aigoo, my precious bundle of blessings!”
Pardon? I’m not a bundle of blessings; I’m Bong-bong?
Consort Jang was beaming from ear to ear. Was she the sort of person who sublimated acute emotional distress through radiant smiles? That kind of coping mechanism was honestly a little terrifying.
“From where did such a lucky charm come tumbling into my life?” she marveled, her hands cupping my cheeks and kneading them without mercy. “How is it that you choose to do only the most adorable things? So our little Bong-bong knows how to play with that rogue Geumdeok, does she? His Majesty is utterly helpless when it comes to that cat, so he will undoubtedly return to see you again. Yes, of course he will!”
She smoothed down my hair with vigorous strokes before turning an authoritative gaze toward Court Lady Han.
“Court Lady Han. Perhaps the child has been underfed, for she is far too petite for her age. Go fetch a prescription of deer antler tonic. Children only look proper when they are plump and chubby.”
“Yes, Jaga. It shall be done at once.”
Deer antler? But that’s medicine! I cringed inwardly. I hate bitter things.
…Wait, no. Deer antler tonic was an astronomically expensive luxury restorative. Then of course I have to drink it!
While my child’s palate, which loathed anything remotely bitter, waged fierce combat against my primal Korean soul’s obsession with health tonics, Consort Jang took me gently by the hand.
“Come, little one. Let us go to my chambers first. Since you have done such a good deed, I shall reward you with sweet confections.”
Candied confections? But those are ridiculously delicious!
“Hamanim.”
“Aigoo, my little bundle of blessings, what is it?” Seol-hyang asked, pinching my cheek with a delighted giggle.
Bokdeongi. A bundle of blessings. That was the new title bestowed upon me once the hurricane wrought by King Sukjong had swept through.
“Do you happen to have a looking glath?”
“I do. Why? Do you want to borrow it?”
“Yeth. Jutht for a thecond.”
Seol-hyang crossed the room and carefully retrieved a bronze hand mirror tucked deep inside a chest.
“This is a precious item that the court maids take turns sharing, so you mustn’t drop it, understood?”
“Yeth, Hamanim.”
Winning Jang Hui-bin’s favor was certainly significant, but what truly refused to leave my mind was the parting remark King Sukjong had uttered.
“You look alike.”
Those were the words he had let slip after studying my face for what felt like an eternity. I was dying of curiosity to know who on earth I was supposed to resemble. Come to think of it, I didn’t even know what I looked like. I had caught murky glimpses of my reflection in washbasins, but I had never properly scrutinized my features.
Well, there was one detail I had learned a few days ago: the bright red mark sitting squarely on the inside of my arm.
“Goodness, what an unusual mark you have! It looks just like a plum blossom.”
It had been Seol-hyang, not me, who first pointed it out. Only then did I realize there was a peculiar birthmark stamped onto my skin as clearly as a flower seal. Setting that mystery aside, I lifted the bronze mirror Seol-hyang handed me and faced the countenance of Hwang Bong-bong for the very first time.
…She’s crazy cute.
It might have sounded like excessive narcissism, but I still lacked any profound sense of oneness with the identity of “Hwang Bong-bong.” In other words, my assessment was entirely objective.
Hwang Bong-bong was an undeniably lovely child. Her eyes were enormous and round, her cheeks were chubby like a chipmunk’s, and her dainty little nose had a surprisingly crisp, perky bridge. Beneath that, small, plump lips blushed a vivid shade of red…
Hwang Bong-bong, you look like Hamtaro.
Seeing it for myself, I could finally understand why every adult who crossed my path felt an uncontrollable urge to squish my cheeks.
“Theol-hyang Hamanim. Ith there… thomeone in the palath who lookth like me?”
“Someone who looks like you? Hmm, who knows? Not that I can think of.”
At Seol-hyang’s breezy response, I composed my expression into something more solemn.
“Don’t I look like Hui-bin-jaga?”
“Did this child eat something foul today?”
…Tsk.
Unable to uncover an answer, I meekly returned the mirror.
“Um, Hamanim? Can I athk a quethtion?”
“Go ahead.”
“About the wetht wing of Chwithendang. Why aren’t the aegi-nainth allowed to go there?”
“There’s no grand reason for it. It’s simply that Lady Suk-jeong—our secondary mistress—detests noise and commotion.”
Seol-hyang gave a dismissive shrug, but then her brow furrowed with sudden curiosity. “Wait, where did you hear about that? Don’t tell me, from those ten-year-olds again?”
“Yeth.”
“Haah, those little troublemakers, honestly…” Seol-hyang pressed a hand to her temple. Judging by her exasperation, those particular child maids had quite a history of stirring up mischief.
“We need to find physical proof quickly…”
“They said we’d receive a massive reward once we find evidence…”
The fragmented whispers I had overheard came rushing back, but I still lacked actionable information. Blurting out, “Those girls are definitely spies!” without a shred of proof would only result in no one taking a toddler seriously. I would have to keep a close watch on their movements from now on.
As I pondered the matter with a grave face, Seol-hyang looked down at me with softened eyes.
“Is our Bong-bong frightened of the secondary mistress? Don’t worry so much. You only need to steer clear of that side when the full moon and the new moon rise.”
“Why the full moon and the new moon?”
“Ah. That is when the secondary mistress comes to Chwiseondang. Scattering salt to purify the earth’s energy or whatever nonsense she claims… It’s only the poor wretches tasked with sweeping it up who suffer.”
…Good grief. She really did everything under the sun, didn’t she?
Noticing my appalled expression, Seol-hyang patted my back reassuringly.
“She visits so frequently that fretting over her will only exhaust you. Whenever the secondary mistress is here, just stay tucked away inside your room. I’ll tell everyone you were busy studying your letters, alright?”
“Yeth. Thank you, Hamanim.”
A fond smile blossomed on Seol-hyang’s lips as I offered a polite little bow. The more I saw of her, the more I realized what a genuinely good person she was.
At any rate, there aren’t many days left until the new moon, which means Suk-jeong will be lurking around again soon.
My overarching objective was crystal clear: prevent the construction of the shamanic shrine and derail the infamous Queen Inhyeon curse incident entirely. To do that, I had to stop Suk-jeong from treating Chwiseondang like her private playground. But how?
I racked my brain, recalling the tidbits Seol-hyang had shared regarding Suk-jeong’s habits. She loves harassing the court maids with all kinds of superstitions. Turning your back on the sunrise brings misfortune; killing a spider invites terrible omens; salt must always be scattered under the full moon and the new moon…
Oh! What about that?
A sudden flash of inspiration struck like lightning.
“Hamanim, can I uthe thith cotton pouch?”
“Go ahead. But what do you need a pouch for?”
“To thave the thweetth the Hamanimth give me…”
“Aigoo, is that so, our little lucky charm?” Seol-hyang stroked my head tenderly, finding my excuse utterly precious.
All the while, I was picturing Suk-jeong’s vacant, fanatical gaze. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If she lived by superstition, then superstition would be her undoing.
The night of the new moon, in the western quarters of Chwiseondang.
Suk-jeong was conducting her ritual just as she always did, tossing coarse grains of salt and chanting under her breath to cleanse the ground’s spiritual energies.
I have devoted an entire year of devotion to this spot; it should be ready, she mused. Soon, I must bring in a shaman to establish the shrine.
…Wait, what was that?
A stark white sheet of paper clung to the wooden pillar of a pavilion that had sat vacant for ages. It fluttered eerily in the chill night breeze. Drawn by an inexplicable pull, Suk-jeong crept closer to inspect the notice.
“Hmm?”
The parchment was densely covered in brush-written Hangul script.
This missive first originated in Joseon, bestowing immense fortune or catastrophic ruin upon whoever beholds it…
What on earth is this nonsense…?
Yet her eyes couldn't resist darting down to the very next line.
If you wish to divine your fortune and calamity, carry out these instructions without delay:
Take two steps to the right, two steps backward, and there, stomp your feet three times! Thump, thump, thump!
Divining fortune and ruin? That was the one temptation Suk-jeong was utterly powerless to resist. Her eyes fixed upon the notice, her feet moved of their own accord, following the written commands step for step.
Two paces right. Two paces back. And right there, three firm stomps…
Am I possessed? Why am I doing as this paper commands?
Overcome by a sudden, creeping unease, Suk-jeong froze in place.
Crunch.
Something squished sickeningly beneath the sole of her shoe.
W-What was that?
Her gaze traveled sluggishly downward, only to be met by a horrific sight.
“S-Spiders! Aaaagh!”
Scattered beneath her feet lay the crushed, mangled carcasses of countless spiders. Suk-jeong leaped backward in pure, skin-crawling hysteria. The sudden burst of air sent the paper fluttering violently, exposing the final lines inscribed at the very bottom.
Her lips trembled violently as she read the words.
O thou who hast encountered ill omen, never curse another nor harbor wickedness in thy heart!
P.S. If you wish to avert utter calamity, destroy this letter at once.
“Utter calamity? No! That cannot happen!”
Tucked into a narrow crevice between the pavilions in the western compound, I watched the scene unfold.
It’s going exactly according to plan. A satisfied smirk crept onto my face. All that trouble catching spiders was definitely worth it.
That poster was my official warning shot fired directly at Suk-jeong. A person as thoroughly intoxicated by superstition as she was would never be able to shake the paralyzing dread of "utter calamity." True to my calculations, her hands shook so violently as she clutched the paper that I could see it clearly even from a distance.
Now she should be ripping it to shreds or burning it to ashes…
Only then would my little operation be sealed as the perfect crime.
…Wait, what?
I had miscalculated. What unfolded next was a bizarre spectacle that defied my wildest imagination.
What on earth is she doing…?!
Having glared holes into the paper, Suk-jeong suddenly—
Chomp, crunch, gulp.
She crushed the paper into a tight wad and shoved the entire thing straight into her mouth!
Her face was flushed a terrifying shade of crimson in the gathering dusk. Gagging and heaving around the mouthful of pulp, she chewed with frantic, bone-chilling desperation until she finally forced the paper down her throat.
I knew she was obsessed with omens, but is she this far gone?!
Only after Suk-jeong stumbled away into the shadows, hacking and coughing violently, was I able to exhale.
“Hah…”
I let out a long breath, realizing I had been so petrified that I’d forgotten to breathe.
That woman is genuinely insane…
A shiver ran down my spine. The realization hit home that the enemy I was dealing with was far more unhinged than I had ever anticipated.
Still, what’s done is done. Time to wrap this up.
After checking that the coast was entirely clear, I crept out from hiding to bury the squashed spiders. With that, every trace of evidence had vanished from the face of the earth. The spiders were under the soil, and the letter was inside Suk-jeong’s stomach.
Offering a silent, heartfelt prayer for the repose of the spiders’ souls, I scampered back to my quarters as fast as my little legs could carry me.