Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Guardian's Great Fortune
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"After breakfast, as I step out the door— dazzling sunlight wraps around me~."
Perhaps because his thoughts had settled, Jin-hyuk found himself humming a song he rarely sang.
"General's coming down~ General's coming dooown~."
He kept singing endlessly until he reached his destination, including songs that hadn't even been released to the world yet.
General followed along, babbling back at the strange tunes Jin-hyuk was muttering.
'Maybe because it's my first time, I'm feeling a bit nervous.'
His steps were light and fearless, but the anxiety that naturally came with facing an unfamiliar presence joined in.
Should he go in? He hesitated for a moment.
It was past Lee Hae-won's family's corner store from his house, even further in than Yuk Seong-chan's place. A small tiled house on a hillside that used to be a communal graveyard. At a glance, it resembled the ancestral shrine of a prominent family.
Long bamboo poles flanked the gate, adorned with white, red, yellow, blue, and black flags, and a sheet of scribbled hanji paper was pasted on the door.
'Well, hard to read the calligraphy, but it's probably something good.'
The old man of the Cheon family who lived here was like an intangible cultural asset painting folding screens or fans. But his works were expensive and there were no buyers, so he was said to be tending a vegetable garden these days.
Of course, that wasn't the reason Jin-hyuk had come.
Grandpa Cheon was known as a baksu—a male shaman. But he was different from those who performed gut rituals or read fortunes, they said. He was more like an elder who offered blessings for village events big and small and received food and drink in return. Still, rumors swirled that he had some real supernatural abilities. Choi Mi-kyeong's grandma had said something similar.
He'd never undergone a spirit descent or served ghosts, but the villagers, not knowing what else to call him, just labeled him a shaman.
He even named babies for free, so there were few kids in the village without a name from Grandpa Cheon. Choi Tae-yang's name came from him too.
The reason Jin-hyuk had come was simple.
'They say he can see ghosts.'
Kiiik—.
While he hesitated, the gate opened from inside.
Jin-hyuk sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn't made a sound, yet someone had come out to greet him.
The old man wore rough hemp clothes and a tanggeon headwrap, standing tall like a totem pole with piercing eyes. His graying hair and beard made him look more like an immortal sage.
'He looks more like Gandalf than Gandalf himself.'
As Jin-hyuk lightly bowed his head, the old man turned briskly.
"If you're here, come in. Leave the dog outside."
The fluid turn and concise speech suited him perfectly.
Though startled by the sudden appearance, Jin-hyuk followed the old man across the threshold.
General turned his back and sat, pretending not to care. It wasn't like he understood words; his backside just radiated indifference, like a queen surveying her highland domain. No idea why he'd curled his tail away, though.
Ganma-eul Gandalf, seated with a folding screen at his back, gestured for Jin-hyuk to sit.
As Jin-hyuk sat across from him, an unexpected remark flowed out.
"So, the one who got my brother killed has come."
"Pardon?"
What the hell was this out of nowhere?
Before Jin-hyuk could even process his bewilderment, the old man slid a teacup toward him.
"When your parents settled in this village, my brother tried to stop them."
As he filled the teacup, Cheon Gil-ryong began his tale.
Jin-hyuk was seeing Cheon Gil-ryong for the first time, yet here he was talking about his brother right off the bat. Stunned, but he listened quietly.
Cheon Gil-ryong's brother, Cheon Gi-rung, had been even more famous than him.
When Son Gwang-yeon and Han Yu-young drifted into the village, Cheon Gi-rung had warned that the building site was terribly ominous and advised them to build elsewhere.
It was advice without force, just from an old man, so maybe they took it lightly? Or dismissed it as superstition since they were young? In any case, Son Gwang-yeon didn't change the site.
Truth be told, "couldn't move" was more accurate.
Son Gwang-yeon and Han Yu-young had nothing to their name; they'd built a mud house on land lent by Choi Jang-hwan. In their poor circumstances, they couldn't afford to heed some fortune-teller's words without considering their plight.
Anyway, Cheon Gi-rung had warned them.
—"If you build here, people will die."
Even after the house was built, he visited with another warning.
—"Tear it down and at least change the direction. You'll be holding a funeral within ten years."
At the time, Han Yu-young was heavily pregnant, so Son Gwang-yeon couldn't heed it.
Hearing Cheon Gil-ryong's explanation, Jin-hyuk felt a chill down his spine.
In his previous life, hadn't it happened just as Cheon Gi-rung predicted?
But what did he mean that he was the reason Cheon Gi-rung died?
"My brother risked his life to reveal the heavens' secret to save you young ones, but your parents didn't listen. No funeral happened within ten years."
Cheon Gil-ryong closed his eyes gently and stroked his beard.
"So he paid the price with his own life."
It sounded like a tale from an old legend.
Jin-hyuk, who would have saved his parents even if the same events repeated, felt sorry about Cheon Gi-rung. After all, it meant the old man died because he had saved his parents.
"No need to apologize. He'd lived long enough anyway. Dying to save the young ones? That's a good death."
To Jin-hyuk, it was shocking. But Cheon Gil-ryong's expression was utterly casual.
"When did he... pass away?"
"The very day you went out to sea and made that moon with your light."
Cheon Gil-ryong's eyes narrowed sharply.
According to him, Cheon Gi-rung had sadly watched the flashlight beams darting over the tidal flats, then burst into laughter at the sight of Jin-hyuk's tin-can lantern.
—"It's done! It's all good now!"
He'd been delighted like a child, he added.
Maintaining a serious expression, Jin-hyuk asked,
"But there were no funerals in the village then?"
"A spirit elder just ascends to the heavens. No funeral rites. That old man quietly went back to the sea."
That was how Cheon Gi-rung paid for revealing the heavenly secret.
"Sir, I just don't quite understand."
"Tsk—. A smart kid like you not getting it? You only believe what you see and calculate numbers. Some things you have to feel with your heart."
Not everything could be judged by right and wrong or logic. Cheon Gil-ryong clicked his tongue.
Though the old man said that, Jin-hyuk still felt unresolved.
They hadn't received any help from the old man to save his parents, so why did Cheon Gi-rung have to pay?
"Could you explain a bit more anyway?"
"Ten years. Someone in that house had to go to the heavens, but no one did. Thanks to you, they lived. If the one meant to die doesn't, the grim reaper seeks another soul. Doesn't take just anyone. First, it goes after the insolent one who revealed the secret—the spirit elder. But my brother wasn't just any shaman like the villagers say. Even the reaper couldn't drag him off willy-nilly. So what does it do? It causes havoc in the village. Too scared to barge in, so it trips innocents, drowns them, chokes them. A tantrum to lure out a substitute before taking the wrong one."
Even as he poured out the words, Cheon Gil-ryong's breathing stayed steady.
Amazed inwardly, Jin-hyuk asked,
"Then that elder...?"
"Yeah. He went of his own accord to save the young ones and villagers. Not taken by the reaper, not possessed by a ghost—walked right into it himself."
Most shamans who got assassinated or vanished did so that way, to balance karma.
Those were the real shamans, Cheon Gil-ryong added.
Hard to believe, but after all the surreal events Jin-hyuk had experienced, he couldn't dismiss it.
Still, it felt unfair.
'Couldn't they have spared him since he'd already revealed the secret?'
Then his previous self wouldn't have suffered.
But Cheon Gil-ryong cut that thought short.
"You only know the day when it arrives. Can't intervene, but even if you could, you shouldn't. Only the heavens know its will fully."
It was the word of one who saw into hearts.
Jin-hyuk straightened his posture.
"Let me atone somehow—."
"Atonement? Bah. Bring some mantis shrimp in autumn, kid. Heard you're the best at catching 'em around here?"
Throat parched from talking, Cheon Gil-ryong downed his tea in one go.
"Kuh—! Ah, shit, hot!"
Wiping tea from his white beard, his crude words clashed with his looks, yet carried a strange charm. Even glancing at Jin-hyuk's reaction felt like the poise of a great man.
A faint smile crept onto Jin-hyuk's lips. He'd expected a scary old-timer, but the neighborly tone eased him, grateful for the old man's effort to put him at ease.
His senses beyond the five and sixth confirmed it.
'He's a good man.'
But he wasn't giving him a chance to speak.
He had come for a specific reason.
While Yu Se-ra mom immersed herself in knitting from morning, Hong Su-jeong unfolded the newspaper.
A crossword puzzle—her Hong Gi-jun dad recommended it for brain development.
A fairly easy horizontal clue appeared.
Hong Su-jeong was a kind older sister. For Yu-jin, sprawled on the living room floor with their heads together, she read the clues clearly.
"Three letters. Mother of Jesus."
"Yay-soo? Mom?"
Of course, Yu-jin's pronunciation was more accurate.
Protecting her big sister's pride, Hong Su-jeong filled it in properly.
"Ma. Ri. A."
Satisfied, she grinned toothlessly, showing only pink gums where teeth should be.
Hong Su-jeong hit a wall on a vertical starting with 'A'.
'The Hangul fits, but...'
She could read it with her eyes, but not comprehend it with her mind. A tough one for any nine-year-old.
She lay flat on her belly, propping her chin with both hands, pondering.
Hong Gi-jun dad had gone for a neighborhood walk and wasn't back. Yu Se-ra mom had broad knowledge, but no depth. When asked what economic sense meant, she'd snapped to brush teeth and sleep—though she had none to brush.
Look at her now. Eyes met her daughter's, yet she cleared her throat and pretended to knit. No clue if that was a scarf or a rag.
'Oppa would have told me right away.'
Prison oppa had left after breakfast, taking General with him.
Yu-jin and she had clung, wanting to follow, but he said it was a scary place and forbade it. No idea how scary, but his forbidding it was scarier. It hurt. Hong Su-jeong had sulked and cried alone in the yard corner, then wiped her tears and come in. Just you wait, Son Prison.
Yu-jin sighed.
Watching Hong Su-jeong's eyes glaze over mid-activity, as if it were natural, made her sigh without being taught.
Best to ask Dad in times like these. Son Yu-jin was happy to have so many people to ask.
"Dad, what's this?"
"Hm? What?"
Son Gwang-yeon, trimming his nails, turned to his daughter.
The man who'd gotten smacked by his wife over the Ojagyo Motel incident and wriggled like squid over briquettes. This time, with trapezius tensed in resolve, he wouldn't blurt unconsciously.
"Ah-deo-tti, leggo do it for you."
"Sure. Want Su-jeong to read it?"
"Many people. In miserable. Straits. Uh-ah—."
Hong Su-jeong loosened her jaw midway.
"Crashing. The tragedy. Metaphorically. Expressing. That word. Starting with 'A'. Four letters."
Her best effort, so Son Gwang-yeon understood.
A genius's brain reacted before thinking, as always.
The genius's mouth opened unwittingly.
"Asari pan."
Yu Se-ra, nodding unconsciously at Son Gwang-yeon's superhuman response speed and vast knowledge, gasped. Han Yu-young's sharp glare stopped her. With kids around, she held back.
Was it recent? Firecracker sounds from the master bedroom. The same as when Yu Se-ra smacked Hong Gi-jun's back.
Gwang-yeon oppa, thrilled over some odd book saying this year brought blazing wealth luck—looks like the blaze hit his back instead.
"Ahem! Where'd that guy wander for his walk? Still not back? Su-jeong, Yu-jin, want to play with phoenix flower water?"
Eyeing Han Yu-young, Yu Se-ra quietly rose and took the little ones' hands.