Chapter 70
Chapter 70
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 70
Chapter Title: Guardian's Great Fortune (5)
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“Su-jeong-ah, go play with Yu-jin over there so Grandpa can eat his meal.”
An unexpected relief pitcher appeared in the form of Hong Gi-jun for Cheon Gil-ryong.
“I like my father-in-law. He looks just like my dad.”
“Oh ho ho-. That's right. Here, stay over there.”
With no other choice, Cheon Gil-ryong had to finish all the ham.
It had nearly been awkward eating his meal under the watchful eyes of Son Gwang-yeon and Hong Gi-jun, who had joined him claiming the elders needed to eat, but thanks to Hong Su-jeong, the atmosphere turned warm and lively.
Cheon Gil-ryong finished his meal with a pleased smile as he watched Hong Su-jeong, Son Yu-jin, and Balbari frolicking about.
“Thank you. I received an unexpected and honorable reception.”
Son Gwang-yeon and Hong Gi-jun cleared the table, and Yu Se-ra brought out oriental melons for dessert.
Cheon Gil-ryong sat on the porch, surveying the men one by one. He nodded with smiling eyes. When he looked at Yu Se-ra, he couldn't help but chuckle out loud.
Han Yu-young came out holding a tray of makgeolli.
“If you have any good words of wisdom, please share. Don't hold back.”
At Han Yu-young's words, Cheon Gil-ryong's eyes gleamed.
How did this young lady see right through me?
From what Cheon Gil-ryong had observed so far, people these days no longer trusted shamans. Even in this remote countryside, a church had popped up, and everyone flocked there. Village heads no longer came to consult on village matters, of course. Partly because of the fraudulent shamans who only told people what they wanted to hear and swindled them.
In any case, it was an era where people disliked overly presumptuous talk disguised as blessings right to their faces. It was time for an old man like him to retire to the back room.
“Just because you've lived long doesn't make you wise, and just because you're young doesn't make you foolish. What words of wisdom could I possibly have? Heh heh-.”
“Even so, I like hearing that kind of talk.”
Han Yu-young was the type who, despite not attending church, would serve tea to visiting pastors and ask for good stories.
She had the power to shake the heart of the Gandalf of the seaside village, like a lovable youngest daughter.
Well, since I ate their food, maybe I should give a little something in return. Cheon Gil-ryong stroked his beard.
“It's nothing much. What do I know? Take President Son here, for example. In the old days, the words of the elders were like the heavens among farmers. Isn't that right?”
Son Gwang-yeon smiled faintly and nodded, keeping his hands politely clasped in front of him.
“Looking to the sky and recalling memories etched in wrinkles, the elders had to teach when to till the land, when to sow and cover the seeds, and when to harvest in the fall. But this household's president farms by reading people, not the sky or the earth. He reads the human world. That's wisdom. That's why he can't fail. They say the future is the age of knowledge, but knowledge without application is worth less than dog shit. The age of wisdom will come, where those who turn knowledge into wisdom succeed. In that sense, President Son is ahead by generations.”
Though he didn't show it, Son Gwang-yeon felt a chill run down his spine.
He had thought of him as just an old man living on a high hill surrounded by tidal flats, yet he spoke as if overlooking the world.
“Before I turned eighty, I used to meddle everywhere and act like I knew it all.”
A cool breeze passed through the shade of the zelkova tree. Without anyone leading, they all closed their eyes and took a deep breath. It was a refreshing sensation hard to come by easily.
Cheon Gil-ryong took a sip of makgeolli and let out a sigh of delight. “Ah, that's good.”
“One day, I looked in the mirror and saw a stubborn old man staring back. That's when I realized. Ah, I should have been talking to the mirror all along. I should have directed all those 'do this, do that' at the mirror. Words like 'people must learn until they die' and 'be humble'—those should have been said to the mirror.”
Son Gwang-yeon and Hong Gi-jun listened humbly to Cheon Gil-ryong's teachings.
It sounded like advice not to try teaching others or picking at their faults, but to focus on refining oneself.
Cheon Gil-ryong turned his gaze.
Jin-hyuk was walking up from the bus stop toward the house.
Cheon Gil-ryong smiled slyly and continued.
“Isn't it amusing? I read The Heart Sutra in my youth but only understood it at eighty. Come to think of it, it shouldn't be called a scripture—gyeong—but a mirror—gyeong.”
Han Yu-young listened intently with a serious face. Yu Se-ra, furrowing her brow, wore an expression of 'What is this old man talking about?'
Seeing Yu Se-ra like that, Cheon Gil-ryong laughed.
“Not everything an old man says is right, so pick and choose what to take to heart. Even the truest, best words should first be heeded as nagging toward oneself, Seoul lady.”
“Ah, yes······.”
Only then did Yu Se-ra smile awkwardly, muttering that it was Korean after all.
“People think differently—this one like that, that one like this—but trying to melt them down and pour them into your own mold leads to fights. It'd be easier if we just didn't see each other, but people insist on adding a word and picking fights. Cultivating oneself and attaining wisdom is up to each person. Look at that one. How impressive.”
Cheon Gil-ryong pointed his pipe toward Jin-hyuk entering the yard.
He had changed his great fortune, saved several lives, and might even change the world ahead. Yet he harbored no greed, simply living day by day.
He asked Jin-hyuk, who bowed in greeting.
“Did lots of mushrooms come up? It's still a bit early, isn't it?”
“There are plenty in places feet can't reach.”
Everyone inwardly marveled at how he knew Jin-hyuk had gone mushroom picking, but Jin-hyuk remained calm, thinking, That grandpa would know something like that.
Jin-hyuk opened the black plastic bag, revealing it stuffed with bright yellow mushrooms. They were chickweed mushrooms from the rotten trees behind the house—chewy and fragrant delights. Normally harvested in fall, he had saved them because Hong Gi-jun's family loved them, picking them whenever he came down.
Cheon Gil-ryong pursed his lips into a circle and smiled.
“See? It's all up to how you do it. Living, doing things—everything.”
With that, Cheon Gil-ryong decided to stop the lofty talk and stood up. He carefully examined Jin-hyuk's shoulders, head, and feet. Soon, he furrowed his brow, clucked his tongue, and smacked his lips.
“Elder! Please don't—.”
Yu Se-ra called out urgently.
“What's wrong?”
“Can't you read my fortune or something like that?”
Yu Se-ra had no interest in superstitions like fortune-telling or compatibility readings. Was it the atmosphere? There was something strangely compelling about Cheon Gil-ryong. Was that what they called a shaman's aura?
Cheon Gil-ryong sat back down. The Seoul lady pestering him so suddenly was as endearing as a late-born daughter, making it hard to refuse.
“Let me take a look.”
Cheon Gil-ryong meticulously examined Yu Se-ra's face and hands. Especially her eyes. In her deep black, large pupils, the reflection of the white-bearded old man smiled with curiosity.
Jin-hyuk sat beside Cheon Gil-ryong, staring intently at Yu Se-ra. Well, just because he looked didn't mean he knew anything, but it was a pleasant face to look at. He even spotted a difference from Hong Su-jeong. Hong Su-jeong had brown eyes with a reddish tint, while Yu Se-ra's were perfectly black.
Yu Se-ra met Jin-hyuk's eyes, smirked, and asked Cheon Gil-ryong politely.
“Shall I tell you my birth date?”
“That's for amateurs and frauds. They use that to fit words into phrases. If that worked, how many people would have the same fate?”
Yu Se-ra nodded, thinking that made sense. No reason to argue, and she lacked the knowledge anyway.
Cheon Gil-ryong pointed at Hong Su-jeong.
“That lady over there must have a princess daughter who looks just like her. Where's the son?”
“Pardon?”
Yu Se-ra's large eyes widened further, her hands trembling as if electrocuted.
A son? Who'd misunderstand if they heard that.
Yu Se-ra narrowed her round eyes. Could this old man be a cultist? Even for an elder, wasn't he too casually tossing out personal bombs on a first meeting? Irritation bubbled up alongside suspicion.
“Seoul lady, your physiognomy has changed. The icy person has turned like a spring breeze. Your husband knows what I mean.”
Hong Gi-jun's mouth involuntarily formed an O.
Because he knew his wife Yu Se-ra had softened since seeking out Son Gwang-yeon and investing in Sein Group. Still, there was no hidden son······.
Hong Gi-jun silently extended his hand toward his glaring wife.
Despite the remark that could stir family trouble, Cheon Gil-ryong remained nonchalant, as if it were someone else's business.
“Let me see······.”
Cheon Gil-ryong never gave long explanations. Nor was he curt.
That was another difference from city fortune-tellers. Some took money and yelled. Compared to them, Cheon Gil-ryong was like a kind grandfather.
“Your features are excellent. Just live doing whatever you want.”
Yu Se-ra grinned broadly, as if she'd never been annoyed. No specifics hit, but good fortune? What else mattered? She was already preparing to do what she wanted. Still, she craved a straightforward answer.
“What kind of work should I do?”
“Something that raises your name. Not under anyone, and not managing too many people. A tree with many branches gets torn by the wind and can't rest, but your features are like an orchid. Orchids must tend their own stem and stand tall. Shining alone is best.”
“Kuh-.”
Yu Se-ra let out a resonant sigh of admiration. A lofty orchid. What rhetoric could satisfy an ambitious person more? She would shine alone in the history of Korea's basic physical education. Yu Se-ra's eyes sparkled.
As expected, dream interpretation beat dreams.
“Read this person's too!”
This time, Yu Se-ra pointed at her husband Hong Gi-jun.
Cheon Gil-ryong smiled at Hong Gi-jun and gave a simple verdict.
“A good man. Loyal.”
With that, Cheon Gil-ryong brushed off his seat and stood.
But Yu Se-ra wasn't one to let him go easily.
“A bit more detail······.”
Cheon Gil-ryong smirked and sat back down, staring at Hong Gi-jun. Muttering 'Like a leech' under his breath. Thanks to this Seoul leech, he'd been sitting and standing repeatedly, and his knees ached.
“Let me see······. Virtuous but without greed—.”
Ruling the nation, conquering the world, pioneering the future······. Readings that hadn't come for Yu Se-ra poured out.
Hong Gi-jun just chuckled it off. He knew it was flattery for his wife to hear.
“Just take it as fun talk. If you live believing in fortunes, you'll blame fate or the world for everything. That's no way for the young to live. Your husband knows that, so he just laughs.”
Cheon Gil-ryong gripped his knees and stood with a groan.
“Now stop grabbing me. I can't stay away long—too many empty seats at home.”
Yu Se-ra insisted on giving him an envelope fee, but he refused, calling it meal payment.
He also politely declined Han Yu-young's offer to see him off.
“You, come see me off.”
Instead, he beckoned Jin-hyuk to accompany him.
Jin-hyuk grabbed the makgeolli jug and followed Cheon Gil-ryong.
*
When Cheon Gil-ryong and Jin-hyuk had climbed halfway up the hill and become small figures, Yu Se-ra asked.
“Oppa, who was that grandpa? So sharp.”
“The one who said the land was bad when we built this house.”
Not that one. Son Gwang-yeon still couldn't distinguish between the brothers.
Even villagers couldn't accurately tell Cheon Gil-ryong from Cheon Gi-ryung, so it was natural. They just figured since they looked alike, it was the same person.
“Remembering that, when we built the new house, we raised the foundation and adjusted the orientation. We even rebuilt that earthen house.”
“He's a fortune-teller, but doesn't seem like one.”
“I heard from the former village head—he's not like a fortune-teller.”
“Then?”
A sage.
Son Gwang-yeon smirked without answering.
It would sound foolish.
Jin-hyuk walked silently for a while before hesitantly speaking up.
“Um······.”
“Why beat around the bush? Does it feel like you died and came back to life?”
Cheon Gil-ryong tilted his head toward Jin-hyuk, the motion strangely fluid.
His voice carried a hint of laughter, but his sharp gaze made Jin-hyuk reflexively gasp.