Call Me Dae-in
“It won’t be for long.”
In the end, Yoo Eunhyeon found himself nodding at Sa Unsik’s proposal. When a man offered that much money simply for the privilege of staying, there was little grounds left for refusal.
“Excellent. What is your name, young brother? I don’t yet know how long I’ll remain, but it would be awkward not to have something to call you by.”
“I am Yoo Eunhyeon, Elder.”
“A fine name. It won’t be so very long. I look forward to your company. And there’s no need to call me Elder. Simply address me as Dae-in.”
Apparently none too fond of being treated like a doddering grandfather, Sa Unsik threw back his head and laughed with pure delight.
Yoo Eunhyeon caught a glimpse of something unexpectedly human in the man and let out a short chuckle of his own as he nodded.
Then Sa Unsik abruptly thrust out his hand. Startled into taking it, Yoo Eunhyeon suddenly felt a cool clarity wash through his entire body.
It was as though a formless energy had poured from Sa Unsik and swept cleanly through him.
That energy bore a striking resemblance to the natural force Yoo Eunhyeon had always watched and felt in the world around him. Seeing the young man’s dazed reaction, Sa Unsik asked,
“Did you feel something?”
“No……”.
Whatever it had been vanished too quickly to be certain. Still half-doubting his own senses, Yoo Eunhyeon decided he must have imagined it and shook his head.
Then, as if to cast the moment aside, he turned the question back on Sa Unsik.
“But why do you wish to stay here, Dae-in? There’s nothing but fields and paddies for miles. If you have business nearby, I know the roads well—I could help you find your way.”
“No. I have no particular errand. Let us simply say I’ve taken a mild interest in farming. Carry on exactly as you always have and pretend I’m not here. I may ask a few questions from time to time, but you needn’t answer if you’d rather not.”
The explanation still made little sense to Yoo Eunhyeon. Why on earth would a man of the Murim take an interest in farming?
Even so, he deliberately nodded.
“Understood.”
He had already accepted payment, after all; if the man asked for help, there was no reason to refuse. Still, work was busy—better if the guest proved as little trouble as possible.
“Then, since the rain has stopped, I should get back to work……”.
While they talked, the rain that had been thinning out finally ceased altogether. The sun was already slipping behind the mountain ridges.
It would be only a short while, but enough time remained to check how the fields had fared in the downpour.
“As you please.”
Sa Unsik spoke as though Yoo Eunhyeon need not concern himself in the slightest. Swallowing once, Yoo Eunhyeon set off toward the highest field first. After rain, the proper order was always to survey from the high ground downward.
Climbing in silence, Yoo Eunhyeon let out a measured breath as the slope stole more of his wind.
Generations of the Yoo family had worn a path among the fields, yet a mountain remained a mountain. The steep grades and sudden drops would tax any newcomer simply trying to follow the trail.
Thinking as much, he glanced back at Sa Unsik trailing behind him.
“!!??”
The old man was following with almost insolent ease.
He did not lean forward to steady his center of gravity the way one normally does on a climb; he simply walked upright, as though strolling across level ground.
Not a trace of strain showed on him. Whether Yoo Eunhyeon quickened or slowed, Sa Unsik kept a constant, leisurely distance.
I’ve heard Murim folk have left ordinary humanity behind, but this is… a bit much, isn’t it? Same with the clothes that didn’t get wet in the rain earlier. Is he even human?
A flicker of unease touched him, yet the memory of the hand he had clasped earlier helped him shake the thought away. For all he knew, every true Murim master possessed such abilities.
The moment they reached the field, every idle speculation vanished. Part of the plot lay buried under washed-down soil. The one mercy was that the flooding had been limited; half a shichen’s work would clear it.
From the mountaintop fields all the way down to those at the foot of the slope, Yoo Eunhyeon worked while Sa Unsik trailed after him in complete silence, simply watching.
How long that continued he could not say. The sun slipped away in what felt like an instant.
“Will you not be eating?”
On the way back to the house after finishing his circuit of the fields, Yoo Eunhyeon turned and asked.
He could cook well enough, yet nothing he made was worth boasting about. Worse, he had not restocked provisions lately; all that remained were simple mountain greens and dried meat. He doubted such fare would suit Sa Unsik’s palate.
“I’ll join you. Might you lend me a little salt?”
When Yoo Eunhyeon looked back, Sa Unsik was holding a deer nearly as large as the young man’s own torso. At the sight of those widened eyes, Sa Unsik smiled faintly.
“Haha. You were so absorbed in your work you never even noticed I had slipped away for a moment.”
“That… is true, but……”.
He had indeed kept his eyes on the soil, yet the interval had not been long. That Sa Unsik could bring down a deer of that size without even a snare in so short a time beggared belief.
“I’ll dress it myself as well. How’s that? Fair payment for a meal, wouldn’t you say?”
One deer would feed two men for three days at least. With side dishes, it would stretch even further.
Thanks to the gift, Yoo Eunhyeon enjoyed a rare feast of fresh meat that night—yet a quiet unease continued to settle deeper in one corner of his mind.
“Please come in.”
That same evening Sa Unsik arrived at the house for the meal.
The place stood empty, yet he showed no particular reaction upon seeing it.
Having already been told that grandfather and father were gone, he had apparently assumed the same of the mother.
Yoo Eunhyeon volunteered nothing about Su Hwa-seon. He had no special wish to conceal her existence, but neither did he care to be questioned.
After the simple meal, Sa Unsik rose.
“I’ll sleep elsewhere. I won’t impose to that extent. There appears to be a thatched hut near the summit—might I borrow it?”
When had the man even noticed it? Masking his surprise, Yoo Eunhyeon asked,
“Will you be all right? It isn’t really a place fit for sleeping……”.
In truth one could manage there if necessary. On especially busy stretches Yoo Eunhyeon himself had spent several nights in the hut. Still, it was far too shabby for a guest. To his eyes Sa Unsik was simply not a man meant for such quarters, which was why he asked.
“It’s fine. In my youth I stayed in places far worse.”
Something distant flickered across Sa Unsik’s face as he murmured the words. Yoo Eunhyeon found he had nothing left to say. If the man himself insisted he was content, what more was there?
Besides, sharing close quarters with Sa Unsik held little appeal for Yoo Eunhyeon either, so he did not press the matter further.
“Until tomorrow, then.”
The instant the words left Sa Unsik’s mouth, a sudden wind rose. Yoo Eunhyeon squinted against it; when he opened his eyes again, the man was already gone.
“Even a real ghost couldn’t move like that……”.
He scratched his head and muttered, yet the surprise had already dulled considerably.
He simply accepted it for what it was, turned, and went inside.
On the evening of the third day since Sa Unsik had begun living on the mountain, the two of them sat at supper when Sa Unsik abruptly drew the bamboo flask from his waist.
Yoo Eunhyeon, who had been curious about its contents from the start, seized the chance.
“Is that liquor?”
“Mm. A small hobby of mine. Will you have a cup as well, young brother?”
“There doesn’t seem to be much left.”
When the lid came off, a dense fragrance of wine rolled out across the air.
Just as Yoo Eunhyeon had said, the flask gave a thin, liquid rattle—proof that little remained inside.
“As you say, this will be the last of it. Yet with liquor, atmosphere matters as much as taste. Even a single cup should be a cup worth savoring.”
“There’s no need to go that far. I have liquor of my own.”
With that, Yoo Eunhyeon disappeared inside and returned carrying a bamboo flask similar to Sa Unsik’s, only larger.
“You enjoy drink as well, young brother?”
“Not so much enjoy as use it for labor.”
Farming was bodily work; even when a brief rest appeared, one seldom felt like sipping elegant tea. Anticipating the labor still to come, a man needed something that lent a little vitality—and liquor filled that role better than anything. Too much was trouble, of course, but taken in proper measure nothing else quite matched it.
“This is no shop-bought wine.”
“No. I brew it myself from peaches and several medicinal herbs.”
“Does it have a name?”
“Doyakju.”
“Haha! A clever name indeed. Drink wine made of peach and herbs and one may ‘leap’—is that the idea?”
It was a family recipe passed down through the generations. Yoo Eunhyeon never drank to the point of collapse, yet the fragrance alone made it worth enjoying in moderation.
He poured from the flask he had brought. The scent of peach bloomed thickly around them, and after the first swallow Sa Unsik gave a low sound of admiration.
“Oho…… First the peach fragrance drives straight into the nose, sweet yet burning the throat; once swallowed, the herbs rise with a clean, bracing bitterness; and afterward a faint peach-blossom scent brushes past again. Yes—this certainly qualifies as superb laborer’s wine.”
“I’m glad it pleases you.”
The two of them drank a fair amount that night. Once a light flush of drink had settled over them, Yoo Eunhyeon—now somewhat more at ease—put a question to Sa Unsik.
“Dae-in, are you someone who holds a great position in the Murim?”
“Do I look it?”
“Yes. You give off the air of a man who stands high up and does something considerable.”
“Hahaha! I thought I had been holding my presence in check, yet it seems not entirely. You have a sharp eye.”
“So I was right. I know little of the Murim and have never met another of its people, but you certainly look the part.”
Every word was sincere. Though Sa Unsik was the first Murim man he had ever seen, even setting that identity aside the man himself radiated something extraordinary.
“Whether what I do is great I cannot say, but that I stand in a high place is true enough. My direct subordinates alone number in the thousands.”
“Eh? Thousands? That’s enormous! Then you must be exceptionally strong even among Murim folk, Dae-in?”
“Why do you think so? You said yourself you’ve never met a Murim man before.”
“I’ve read about them in books…… Most books exaggerate reality, don’t they? Yet after watching you these past few days, you seem even more than the Murim masters in those pages—no, simply more… special.”
Even as he spoke, Yoo Eunhyeon’s voice trailed off.
He was a complete outsider to Murim affairs; talking so freely, he suddenly feared he might have said something foolish.
“Haha. Is that so. Yes…… You appear to possess rather keen senses, young brother.”
“I-is that so? Maybe living so long in the mountains has turned me half into a wild beast.”
Taking the remark as praise, Yoo Eunhyeon answered with an awkward smile and a joke.
Sa Unsik’s gaze, meanwhile, had sunk deeper than usual, as though some private calculation were turning behind his eyes.
“Following you these few days has taught me something. Every field on this mountain is superb. The repairs and the reclamation—were those all by your design as well?”
“Yes. First I study the surrounding terrain as a whole, then I make fine adjustments so that the energy of nature can flow properly.”
“Hm. Correct. In any undertaking one must first examine the large before one can accomplish anything of true scale. Most people, however, become so fixated on the small problem right before their eyes that they lose sight of everything else.”
“And then it all scatters in no time.”
Yoo Eunhyeon smiled in easy understanding. Sa Unsik regarded him for a long moment, then suddenly asked,
“Tell me, young brother—have you no interest in martial arts?”