The Spirit Child and the Old General
Having wiped away every trace of the character for Hwang to destroy the evidence, I snapped open my book with a flourish, pretending to be utterly absorbed in studying the Korean script.
Practicing my letters was, of course, a flimsy excuse.
Whenever Consort Jang and Suk-jeong held a private audience, protocol dictated that the maids of Chwiseondang vacate the premises. With today being New Year’s Day, there was even less reason for anyone to wander near the Consort’s quarters.
Which gave me the golden opportunity to eavesdrop on their little chat.
Just hearing the name Orye made the entire gamble worthwhile. In history, Shaman Orye was one of the key figures eventually executed for casting lethal curses upon Queen Inhyeon. In other words...
Jang Hui-bin, Suk-jeong, and Orye. All the pieces of the puzzle are in place.
The convergence of these three women could lead to only one inevitable outcome: the clandestine shamanic shrine. There was no more time to hesitate; my path was crystal clear. The only hiccup was the five-color divination flags turning up yellow over and over again—a bizarre twist I certainly hadn't anticipated.
I’m not usually one for superstition, but... sometimes the universe serves up coincidences that defy rational explanation.
What mattered most was that Suk-jeong was now utterly obsessed with the character Hwang.
And as luck would have it, my surname just happens to be Hwang.
If that wasn’t divine providence, what was?
Right as that thought crossed my mind, Suk-jeong scurried out into the courtyard, clutching her bundle of ritual instruments. I glanced up at her casually, only to notice something strange.
Wait, did she just dodge my gaze?
Suk-jeong frantically averted her eyes. Head ducked low, she hurried toward the western wing of Chwiseondang with quick, frantic steps. And on her pale, drawn face, I caught a glimpse of something unmistakable.
Is she... afraid of me?
Terror. Pure, unadulterated terror that left no room for doubt.
“Hmm.”
What on earth had gotten into her?
The answer hit me a moment later.
Well, if she’s already terrified of me, why not give her a real show and scare her out of her wits?
Alright then. Just you wait in the western wing, Suk-jeong.
Dusk had fallen over the western precincts of Chwiseondang.
Suk-jeong stood in the gathering gloom, struggling to calm her frayed nerves. The omens of yellow and black, the dire warning to beware a child spirit, and that unnerving little toddler maid—for someone whose entire existence revolved around omens and hexes, today had been a spine-chilling nightmare.
I have to wrap this up and get out of here quickly...
Hurrying along, Suk-jeong suddenly froze in her tracks.
What... is that?
An unexpected shape loomed in the shadows. Something bizarre crouched alone in the darkness. At first, it looked like a discarded luggage bundle or a small ceramic crock, but then the silhouette began to squirm.
A... child?
Suk-jeong realized the figure was a tiny girl.
“When Mommy goes to the island’s shade... to gather oyyy-sters...”
A sluggish, chilling melody drifted from the little girl's mouth, echoing eerily through the cold dusk.
“A-Are you... the child maid?” Suk-jeong stammered, her voice shaking violently.
At the sound of her voice, Bong-bong turned around.
Her dark eyes were completely unfocused, glazed over like a corpse's. Slowly, Bong-bong splayed five chubby fingers in the air. Staring Suk-jeong down with a ferocious, unblinking glare, she dragged those outstretched fingers straight down her own cheek.
Whatever had been smeared on her hand left a thick, pitch-black claw mark of calligraphy ink dripping across her pale face.
Black!
Before Suk-jeong could even scream, the child broke into a bizarre, rhythmic dance. She swayed and leaped with wild abandon, mimicking the frenzied sword dances and spirit-possession rituals of ancient shamans.
In her hands... what in heaven's name is that?!
Paralyzed with dread, Suk-jeong finally recognized the grotesque silhouette clutched in Bong-bong's fist.
A-A curse doll...!
Even as she twisted and lurched in her macabre dance, Bong-bong snapped her gaze toward Suk-jeong, her little voice shrieking with unnatural fury.
“Anyone who pokes needles into Bong-bong! Anyone who makes Bong-bong hurt!”
For a split second, her flailing ceased—and then, with terrifying speed, she charged straight at Suk-jeong, little feet pounding the dirt.
“YOU’LL BE STRUCK DOWN BY HEAVEEEEEN!”
“Aaaagh!”
Shrieking at the top of her lungs, Suk-jeong stumbled backward and collapsed hard onto her rear. Forgetting the sting of the fall entirely, she scrambled frantically across the frozen earth, clawing at the dirt to put distance between herself and the possessed child.
Right then, Bong-bong shivered from head to toe. She blinked rapidly several times, and in an instant, her face reverted to its usual, innocent cherubic roundness.
“Oh! Little Mistress, hello! But why are you sitting on the cold ground like that? That’s all dirty...”
Greeting her cheerfully as if nothing whatsoever had happened, the toddler maid beamed at her. The sheer whiplash nearly sent Suk-jeong into cardiac arrest.
“Huh? What’s that sound?” Bong-bong tilted her head.
“S-Sound?”
“Yesh! Little Mistress, can’t you hear the voices? I hear a crying baby, and an old general grandfather shouting really loud!”
“N-No... u-urgh...”
Pushed to the absolute brink of sanity, Suk-jeong’s teeth clattered uncontrollably.
“The baby and the general are super duper angry!” Bong-bong planted her hands firmly on her hips and roared into the empty air, her voice dropping into a raspy bark. “‘Do not come here! Stay away from the west!’”
Suddenly, Bong-bong’s eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. Slowly, stiffly, she raised a single finger, pointing directly at Suk-jeong’s shoulder.
“Wait... little baby?”
Staring dead at Suk-jeong’s shoulder while the woman choked on her own breath, Bong-bong whispered in a bloodcurdling purr:
“Little baby... why are you clinging to her neck like that?”
“AAAAAAAGGGHHH!”
Suk-jeong convulsed like a madwoman, thrashing and violently brushing at her shoulder to swat away the invisible ghost. Letting out one last curdling screech, she scrambled to her feet and fled into the night as if all the fiends of hell were nipping at her heels.
“Phew...”
The moment Suk-jeong vanished from sight, the tension drained out of my little body, leaving me limp. I had known pulling a stunt like that carried massive risks, but achieving great things always required a gamble.
“I actually pulled it off.”
I could already picture Suk-jeong jumping out of her skin at the mere mention of the words ‘western Chwiseondang.’
“Good job, Hwang Bong-bong...!”
Today’s operation was an unqualified triumph!
Wait.
I rubbed my tired face with both hands, only to freeze the second I looked up. A long, slender shadow stretched out across the courtyard between the palace pavilions. What on earth was that?
“Who... who is it?”
My heart plunged straight through the frozen dirt.
Who could it be? A court lady? Did Suk-jeong come back? Or is it Consort Jang herself?
Whoever it was, the mere fact that someone was standing there was a catastrophic disaster.
How long have they been watching?
God, this was bad. Biting my lower lip until it bled, my brain spun at top speed searching for a lifeline.
“...Bong-bong? Are you alright? What was all that about having 'pulled it off'?”
“Ah... Your Highness.”
It was the Crown Prince.
Even though I knew the situation was still precarious, a profound wave of relief washed over me. Getting caught by the Crown Prince was a hundred times better than being spotted by anyone else.
“Um... Your Highness, did you happen to see the person who was just here?”
“A person? I saw no one at all. Bong-bong, are you truly unhurt?”
The Prince’s melancholic face clouded with deep concern, but inside, I let out a massive sigh of relief.
He only just arrived. He didn’t see my manic occult dance, and he didn’t see Suk-jeong.
All he had heard was a few muttered sentences to myself, which meant I could easily bluff my way out with some toddler babble.
“I'm peyfectly fine, Your Highness.”
While we were standing around, night had fallen in earnest, casting deep indigo shadows across the pavilion eaves where I stood.
“By the way, Your Highness, what brings you all the way out to Chwiseondang...?”
Babbling whatever nonsense came to mind, I stepped out of the gloomy overhang into the moonlight.
“Good heavens!”
The Crown Prince jumped back, letting out a strangled gasp.
Oh crap. I smeared ink all over my face.
...It only just dawned on me.
“Aigoo... I'm sowwy, Your Highness! Did I get something on my face?”
“What in the world were you doing to end up with black grime plastered across your cheeks?” The Prince leaned down, his nose twitching as he caught the scent. “Is that... calligraphy ink?”
“Yesh...”
Think fast. What kind of excuse works here?
“Well, um... you know how grown-ups always say someone 'blackens their family’s face' when they make a big mistake? I just got so curious about what it actually felt like to smear black ink on my face...”
I blurted out the first ridiculous thing that popped into my head.
“Ha...”
A helpless chuckle escaped the Crown Prince's lips, as if he had utterly surrendered to my absurdity.
I probably look like a complete lunatic right now, but hey, whatever works.
Thank goodness the Prince had a soft spot for me.
“To tell you the truth...” Dropping my shoulders, I adopted the most pitiful, downtrodden expression my chubby cheeks could muster. “I don’t have any playmates, and none of the court ladies are around today because of New Year’s. I was just so bored that I ended up playing all by myself.”
“Ah. Is that so...”
Moved to pity by the sight of my big, watery eyes blinking up at him, the Crown Prince gently patted my shoulder.
Right at that tender moment, brisk footsteps echoed from around the corner.
“Crown Prince, Your Highness! So this is where you were! Her Ladyship bids you come inside at once, she... Eeeek!”
...Oh dear. This was decidedly bad.
The newcomer was none other than Seol-hyang. Taking in the sight of my soot-streaked, ink-smeared face, her sharp eyes narrowed into furious slits.
“Hwang Bong-bong! I turned around for two seconds and you vanished! And what on earth is that on your face? Is that ink? Do you have any idea how expensive ink sticks are?! Have you lost your mind?!”
“Ahem.”
A quiet, dignified throat-clearing from the Crown Prince caused Seol-hyang to freeze mid-tirade, snapping her mouth shut in sheer panic. But as she glared daggers at me, I caught the vicious mumble escaping through her clenched teeth.
“Jus' yoo wayt 'til we get back t' our room, Hwang Bong-bong. Yer so dead.”
Am I actually going to die tonight?
Cold sweat trickled down my tiny spine.
Just then, the Crown Prince spoke up.
“Court Maid Kim.”
“Y-Yes, Your Highness?”
“Bong-bong’s face ended up like that because of me. I was teasing her and got carried away playing with the inkstone...”
“...Y-Your Highness did that to the child's face?”
“Well, one thing led to another.”
The Crown Prince—a boy whose excessive dignity and solemnity for his age were a constant source of worry for the entire court—indulging in such childish roughhousing? Seol-hyang’s face was a masterpiece of total, utter disbelief.
“So please, do not scold Bong-bong too harshly,” the Prince added softly. “It only makes me feel guilty.”
Faced with a direct plea from the nation's future sovereign, what could a mere court maid do?
“If Your Highness says so, how could I dare rebuke her? As you command, Your Highness.”
...Oh, Crown Prince. You aren't just a prince; you're an angel sent straight from heaven!
Behind his royal red robes embroidered with the five-clawed golden dragon, I could almost swear I saw a pair of majestic white wings fluttering gently. A massive sigh of relief escaped my chest before I could stop it.
Catching my eye, the Crown Prince gave me a sly, conspiratorial wink.
Behind Seol-hyang’s back, I covertly gave him a massive thumbs-up.
Our Crown Prince is the absolute best.
Truly the greatest!
...Not that the night concluded entirely without consequence, of course.
“Aaaah, it’s cold! It’s freezing! Glub, blub! Save meeee!”
The curtain fell on that night's grand exorcism affair with a helpless toddler being forcibly dragged to the courtyard well by an irate adult woman, subjected to a brutal water-torture disguised as face-washing until every speck of dried ink was violently scrubbed away.
Ouch, ouch! I swear she peeled off the top layer of my skin!
Still, thanks to the Crown Prince, my life had been spared.
Your Highness, I promise you. Just like the faithful magpie that rang the temple bell to repay its debt, I will repay this kindness. I swear it!