Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: Understanding Born of Misunderstanding (2)
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Choi Jang-hwan watched Cheon Gil-ryong eat with the vigor of a young man, a pleased glint in his eyes. Jin-hyuk, who knew the old man's temperament well, could guess what was coming. Sure enough, Choi Jang-hwan spoke in his subtle, drawling tone.
"Sir, living alone must get lonely, and it's a hassle in all sorts of ways. Why not come live with us?"
"Haha... That won't do. I've got a guest at my place already... But if the missus doesn't chase me off, I'll come visit often."
"Of course, no problem at all. Just say the word if there's anything you fancy eating."
Jin-hyuk knew Kim Sun-bok meant every word.
These kind-hearted folks must have treated him like family in his past life, too.
Kim Sun-bok didn't forget to look out for Jin-hyuk.
"Come eat at our place until your mom gets back. Don't wear yourself out taking care of your sister."
"Yes, thank you."
It had been fun just hanging out with his sister, but Jin-hyuk had quietly missed having someone to talk to. As a kid, pouring his heart out to General had been his joy, but going to school and making friends had taught him the pleasure of human conversation.
He'd felt it even while interrogating Mun Seok-il: how delightful it was to chat with someone of similar mental age. No one was a better conversationalist than his parents or the neighbor adults, but they still saw him as a child, so their talks never felt truly equal. It was like the constraints of social relationships. You know how you can say something casually to a coworker but not to family...
For the first time, he felt like he was truly reborn as a social creature—finally understanding the meaning of human connection after coming back to life.
After the meal, they headed to Gu-bong Mountain in Choi Jang-hwan's double-cab truck. Jin-hyuk left Yu-jin with Mi-kyeong, buckled in safely, and hopped into the cargo bed with General. The cool breeze refreshed not just his lungs but his mind. Tae-yang would have joined them, but he had a match scheduled even on Chuseok, so he stayed in Seoul.
They arrived at the Fairy Rock, spread out a mat, and paid their respects at the ancestral grave. It felt like yesterday—Jin-hyuk could still vividly recall the day his grandmother passed: her words to protect the family, to look after his siblings, her playful smile.
He'd tagged along for ancestral rites and memorial services before, but doing it with Cheon Gil-ryong made it feel somehow different.
Cheon Gil-ryong placed his hand on the rock and muttered something. No matter how sharply Jin-hyuk strained his ears, he couldn't make it out. The words were so fast and the accent so strange, it almost seemed like a different language. He'd gone to church once, and now he'd picked up a dialect?
After visiting the gravesite and finishing the rites, boisterous laughter drifted over from the village hall near Mi-kyeong's house—neighbors sharing the holiday cheer.
"Yu-jin-ah, sounds like something's going on at the village hall. Wanna go check it out with oppa?"
"Yeah! Hehe. That'll be fun!"
A yutnori game was underway at the hall, with a brand-new TV as the grand prize.
"Isn't yutnori for Lunar New Year...?"
"Gotta get the neighbors together somehow, and with this crowd, go-stop's no good. So they're just tossing yut sticks like simple folk do."
Jo Il-heon, who'd snuck up, clapped Jin-hyuk on the back.
To draw everyone's attention, he raised his voice.
"Hey! The kid's here! He's going on a trip instead of his dad, so let the kid play in his place!"
It was a tournament funded by the friendship club dues, but thanks to Jo Il-heon's meddling, Jin-hyuk got to compete in his dad's stead. He made it to the first round but got knocked out without even getting a turn against Kim Eun-jeong's dad.
Kim Eun-jeong's father had a ritual of downing a shot of makgeolli before each throw. Stumbling but never missing, he was the real yut pro.
Dad often brought home prizes, but Son Jin-hyuk was hopeless.
'Hehe, still fun though.'
Jin-hyuk grinned sheepishly, clutching his participation prize—a set of cooking oil.
"Kahaha! Oppa lost? Did you win a prize?"
Yu-jin, munching on sikhye, rice cakes, and jeon while watching, cheered despite her brother's defeat. She loved seeing him smile, win or lose.
"Aigoo, look at our Yu-jin’s face. Hehe."
Without anyone to watch her, she'd shoveled food into her mouth, smearing oil all over her face.
Jin-hyuk, Yu-jin, and General practically lived at Mi-kyeong's house for the rest of the holiday. Kim Sun-bok and Choi Jang-hwan insisted so warmly it was impossible to refuse. They only went home to sleep, and Tae-yang and Mi-kyeong, who adored Yu-jin, welcomed them. With so many people around, Yu-jin and General seemed happy too.
With few entertainments, days were spent strolling the neighborhood or reading. Leaving his sister to go train alone felt wrong, so despite the itch, Jin-hyuk lounged around, napped, and killed time.
Adults went house to house eating and drinking, while minors toasted with sikhye and played yutnori.
They drew a yut board on the back of a wall calendar emblazoned with a pesticide company's name and used go stones and buttons as pieces for a Choi siblings vs. Son siblings showdown. With family honor on the line, an inexplicable tension filled Mi-kyeong's house.
But it was tension for nothing.
"Hehe, lost again? Oppa and oppa won!"
Like her brother, Son Yu-jin was all thumbs too.
She kept throwing "do." Jin-hyuk seriously analyzed it as her love for pigs rubbing off. By the same logic, his fondness for General must make him throw "gae" every time.
"Man, this won't do. Let's switch teams—boys vs. girls."
Tae-yang's suggestion split them that way.
It was close, but the boys mostly won.
"Gae" beat "do" more often, after all.
"Hehe. Oppa and oppa won!"
Yu-jin was thrilled no matter who won, as long as it was her people.
Thanks to Mi-kyeong's family, and Mi-kyeong's family thanks to Jin-hyuk and Yu-jin, they all enjoyed an even warmer holiday.
Even if options were limited, skipping school the next day made holidays a delight for kids.
Late at night, savoring the holiday idleness at his childhood friend's house...
As he rocked the dozing Yu-jin, Mi-kyeong approached with a grave look.
"Jin-hyuk-ah, do you know Yu Gwan-sun unnie's secret?"
What the heck? He'd known since the diary ghostwriting request, but Mi-kyeong had her quirky side.
"No? What secret?"
"All my friends in town know."
Mi-kyeong, still serious, stroked Yu-jin's back in Jin-hyuk's arms. Fear flickered in her eyes—who knew what she was imagining.
"Eek, this is scary. Should I even tell you?"
Your eyes are scarier right now. Jin-hyuk swallowed the urge to say it.
"At midnight, open the window, sing the Yu Gwan-sun song, and say her twelve secrets... and you die. Eek!"
Truly spooked, Mi-kyeong shivered.
Jin-hyuk knew just what to do now. Stay quiet and let it be—it only embarrassed the teller.
"Wow... I see."
Truly astonishing. He muttered robotically.
His sympathy worked, apparently. For once, Mi-kyeong didn't sigh. Instead, she eyed him curiously.
"You're not scared?"
"What's to be scared of? I don't know a single one of Yu Gwan-sun's secrets."
How could he recite secrets he didn't know? Jin-hyuk shrugged.
"You know some, Mi-kyeong? I only know the song."
"Oh, right?"
He bit back saying singing out a window at midnight sounded insane. In his past life, the Hwang sisters had scared him with ghost stories plenty. He'd once feared the grateful darkness that hid him. Darkness bred endless imagination and terror.
Anyway, manly Son Jin-hyuk didn't fall for kids' pranks.
Mi-kyeong seemed thrilled to have a friend over for the holiday. Adults played go-stop late, leaving kids with Chuseok specials or nothing.
"My grandma told me this once. You know the old army outpost at the end of An village?"
"Yeah."
Right after the Korean War, the army built outposts to watch for spy ships. Narrow roads linked them, and their shapes remained intact.
"She was foraging for wild greens nearby and saw an imugi."
Good lord, an imugi? Not even a dragon. Not wanting to spoil her fun, Jin-hyuk just blinked like a calf.
"There was this huge, huge jar bigger than a cow. She got close and saw it wasn't a jar—it was a snake coiled up. Then it slithered out and stared right at her. And it had ears."
Mi-kyeong spread her arms wide for the jar.
Jin-hyuk pictured a giant snake with ears. His lacking imagination gave it human ears—big mistake.
Kuh!
"Hey, Son Jin-hyuk. Laughing? My grandma doesn't lie."
"No, I believe her. Grandma."
No one trusted grandmas more than Jin-hyuk. He'd seen a departing spirit, after all.
He should've imagined more fitting ears. A snort earned him a scolding.
"So Grandma ran da-da-da to the outpost and told the soldier uncle about the huge snake. He shot at the imugi—bang-bang-bang!"
Watching her mime running and shooting, Jin-hyuk gulped unwittingly. The gestures made it immersive.
"And? What happened to the imugi?"
"It died. Shot up like that—obvious, right?"
Oh, lame ending. Giant eared snake shot dead. The end. Mi-kyeong's stories always lacked punch.
But it didn't end there.
"That soldier started hearing weird noises every night, couldn't sleep, babbled nonsense for days, then walked into the sea and vanished."
Oh, imugi's curse?
Interest sparked in the bland tale. Narrative magic.
"After that, Grandma had nightmares for days, sleep paralysis, the works. Out in the fields, she'd feel a chill down her spine like someone watching."
Mi-kyeong glanced back as she spoke.
Jin-hyuk tightened his hold on his sister and ignored the window. It felt like an imugi lurked in the dark outside. The story was taking over reality. Fantasy and reality blurred without warning.
"Jin-hyuk-ah, Yu-jin's asleep."
"Yeah. We'll crash here tonight."
"Not going home? You said you sleep at home."
"Yeah. She's out, and it'd be nice to sleep in your room for old times' sake."
"Old times? You've never slept over."
...Hadn't he? In his past life, he'd stayed in her room until dragged to town. Probably their way of keeping him from loneliness.
"Anyway, mind spreading a blanket next to your bed?"
Before he finished, Mi-kyeong eagerly laid one out, beaming. Even with a friend over, late nights in one room were tricky—houses far, boys and girls separate.
Anyway, manly Jin-hyuk wasn't scared of the dark.
Mi-kyeong's tale made his nape prickle and spine crawl, but not from fear. He hugged his sister tight and pulled the blanket over their heads.
'Not scared. Just hate scary stories.'
Since returning to the past, stories felt too real to Jin-hyuk. He'd heard cousins swapped ghost tales during holidays. This Chuseok with just family brought new experiences. Hopefully no bedwetting tonight.
Mi-kyeong sat on the bed, looking down at her shivering, blanket-huddled childhood friend—who couldn't live up to his size. Was he that frail, so timid?
She tsked silently and turned off the light.
The sudden darkness made the blanket flinch.
Doesn't she know blackout basics? the blanket muttered.
'Mi-kyeong-ah, say something before lights out during curfew.'
He'd worried his nap would keep him up, but Yu-jin's sleep-talk drew his ear, and his eyes drifted shut.
Not scary, but a relief all the same.