Chapter 71

#71 <The Great Fortune of Protection (6)>

Cheon Gil-ryong laughed as he tapped his pipe on his palm.

His laughter was so clear that he didn’t seem like an old man but rather like someone of Jin Hyuk’s age.

“When fate changes, you often feel that way. Didn’t you also change your fate? Since you’ve heard this old man’s words, you must’ve thought about it at least once, right?”

Even if it wasn’t Cheon Gil-ryong, Jin Hyuk had experienced changing his fate at the age of nine and felt that emotion. However, while he might’ve been moved, he never thought about having died and come back to life. It felt more like waking up from a long sleep.

Jin Hyuk couldn’t immediately think of what to say. Such situations were rare, and he had never met someone like this before.

As they climbed uphill, Cheon Gil-ryong let out a deep sigh.

“Worrying is the privilege of animals with brains, but the more complicated things get, the simpler they need to be. Humans just need to eat well and live well. Oh, I’m out of breath.”

“Should I carry you if it’s too hard?”

“You think I’m some old man who’s about to keel over? I’m out of breath because I ate breakfast twice, you brat.”

If it weren’t for Han Yu-young’s pleading eyes, he wouldn’t have eaten at all. The people in this house are scarier than ghosts. They have a knack for making people’s hearts soften. He thought he was a worn-out old man with nothing left to be excited about in life, but when he met this family’s gaze, his mischievous heart started pounding.

“Can I visit again?”

“Sure. You can even call.”

“Huh…?”

You have a phone? Jin Hyuk muttered in a creeping voice.

“What era do you think this is, you brat? Of course, I have a phone! It’s even a state-of-the-art push-button one!”

It’s a cordless phone set, so I can use it even on the porch, you fool. Cheon Gil-ryong grumbled, seemingly dissatisfied with Jin Hyuk’s reaction.

Jin Hyuk wondered in his head if it was an ARS system.

“I even have a TV and a VCR. I’ve rented and watched ‘Predator’ and ‘E.T.’ after riding the bus.”

Cheon Gil-ryong adjusted his hat and walked slowly.

“Do you know what a Zen riddle is?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Do you like them?”

“No.”

It was a question he could answer confidently and decisively.

Jin Hyuk preferred intuitive and efficient conversations. Talking to people who beat around the bush or tiptoed around their words made him feel like cancer was growing in his chest. He was a man who dealt with the world in a businesslike manner, unaffected by emotions.

“Good. I like them. Sit here for a bit.”

“What…?”

“Sit down, you fool!”

He thought he was a nice old man, but now he seems weird and eccentric.

Jin Hyuk sat on a rock by the roadside, following Cheon Gil-ryong. He had time until the makgeolli truck arrived anyway.

“A rabbit hops around skillfully in the mountains. But it often bumps its head against trees. However, a deer, which is bigger than a rabbit, never collides.”

“Yeah. I see.”

It was a random fable, but Jin Hyuk still responded politely out of respect for the elder.

“Do you know the difference?”

“No. I’ve never thought about it…”

Cheon Gil-ryong chuckled as if he expected that answer.

“The rabbit runs while looking at the trees. To avoid collisions and to hide at any moment. But running while looking at the trees makes it crash without realizing it.”

“What about the deer?”

“It only looks at the path. It only keeps its path in sight while running. It knows that running faster, farther, and with all its strength is the way to survive. By only looking at the path, it doesn’t lose direction even if it gets scratched by trees.”

“Yeah…”

Jin Hyuk nodded, trying to guess why Cheon Gil-ryong brought up this fable.

“It’s the interpretation that matters, you brat. Even fortune-tellers interpret things their own way. It’s not wrong…”

Cheon Gil-ryong pointed toward the town with his pipe.

“Even those who believe in the cross interpret the scriptures their own way…”

“Ah…”

Jin Hyuk glanced around the empty field, worried that someone who goes to church might get angry.

“Is life long? Are you good at running?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“To those watching, the race ends quickly. How did it feel when you ran it yourself?”

“…”

He hadn’t thought about that.

From the starting gun to the finish line, it felt surprisingly long. But after crossing the finish line, the race felt like a very short moment. And when he was actually running, he felt strangely anxious, and the time felt long.

“Is running long, or is life long?”

Cheon Gil-ryong laughed as he looked at Jin Hyuk, who was listening with a blank expression.

“When running, if you only look ahead and run well, but then act like a dumb animal, spinning around in fascination at your own shadow, you’re useless.”

“Yeah, I won’t spin around.”

He decided to think about what it meant later. Agreeing was the only way to escape the barrage of nagging.

“Then that’s good. From afar, it seemed like you were overthinking.”

It’s a strange way of speaking. It’s as if he heard it from someone else.

“Zhuge Liang wasn’t great because he thought a lot. It’s because he drew everything into his thoughts. Fall in love, make money, live happily. Nothing is faster than yesterday.”

Cheon Gil-ryong stood up, leaning on his knees before Jin Hyuk could even digest what he said.

Jin Hyuk gathered his courage and asked.

“Can I call you Grandpa?”

“Am I a grandpa or a grandma? You’re such a bland brat.”

He seemed to grumble, but there was laughter in his voice.

Jin Hyuk bid farewell to Cheon Gil-ryong, who disappeared from his sight in an instant.

He was grateful but also frustrated.

‘This is frustrating.’

It would be nice if he could just answer with a simple yes or no.

Maybe his brain has deteriorated because he’s only used to believing and calculating what he sees. Or maybe he’s struggling and conflicted because he couldn’t accept it with his heart. It might be because he’s used to reports and such.

‘But did he come just to give me Zen riddles?’

To Jin Hyuk, that old man was anything but bland.

Even if it’s a Zen riddle, he just spouted nonsense and left.

***

When Cheon Gil-ryong reached a place out of Jin Hyuk’s sight, he let out a long sigh. It was utterly incomprehensible.

‘Damn it. I must be lacking in training. There’s definitely something strange.’

Except for the cool response from his wooden staff, he couldn’t see or feel anything.

Yet, his breath was caught.

Cheon Gil-ryong stopped for a moment and glared at his wooden staff.

‘Is there something stronger than a deity attached to it?’

There’s no other way to explain it. No matter how impressive the boy’s spirit is, it’s impossible for a human to possess such a bizarre power.

If his brother were here, he would’ve known what it was.

He tilted his hat and looked up at the sky filled with clouds.

It felt like his brother was teasing him, throwing potatoes and laughing at him, calling him a failure.

“Damn old man. I’ll live longer than you.”

He raised his middle finger toward the sky.

“Screw you!”

He had recently rented and watched ‘Predator 2,’ where the gang members cursed at the police like this.

Cheon Gil-ryong’s legs moved swiftly, carrying his body as he muttered about enjoying life from now on.

Maybe I’ll go to church… They serve noodles at lunchtime.

These days, wedding receptions are held in town, so it’s not easy to get free noodles.

***

Jin Hyuk sat on the rock with a blank expression even after Cheon Gil-ryong left.

There was nothing to be dissatisfied with. He just needed time to think.

‘What was he trying to say?’

As he petted Jang Gun-i, who had followed him late, Cheon Gil-ryong’s words disappeared, leaving only a smile on his lips.

Indeed, there’s no better healing for Jin Hyuk than Jang Gun-i.

Hehehe.

“Oh, our Jang Gun-i.”

Finally, the makgeolli truck appeared with the sound of the old man’s breath fading. You don’t even need to wave; if you’re standing by the roadside with a kettle or a bucket, they’ll stop automatically. The driver stuck his arm out the window and greeted him.

“Are you the uncle from the big house? Hello?”

“Yeah, hello.”

It’s a truck from the brewery in the town past Gubongsan Pass, and it goes to Lee Hae-won’s village store every day at this time.

“Shall I fill it up?”

“Yes. Fill it up, please.”

The dark-skinned man, who looked to be in his thirties, got out of the driver’s seat and grabbed the hose.

He only interacted with Jin Hyuk when Hong Ki-jun’s family came to get makgeolli, so they were distant.

‘He used to speak informally until last year.’

I guess being tall makes you look like an adult.

The fragrant makgeolli poured out of the hose, quickly filling the bucket.

‘Yum. That looks delicious.’

When he was nine, a 6-liter kettle cost 2,000 won, but now, five years later, it’s 5,000 won. The funny thing is, a bucket that’s more than three times the size of the kettle costs 10,000 won. It’s a rip-off.

On the way back home, he poured a little makgeolli on the bucket lid.

He resisted the urge to drink it. Truly incredible self-control.

“Jang Gun-i, you followed me because you wanted this, right?”

Hehehe.

Judging by the wagging tail, it seemed so. Jang Gun-i is the type to wait for Hong Ki-jun’s family to visit just to get some makgeolli.

Jin Hyuk petted Jang Gun-i, who was licking the makgeolli, and suppressed his craving.

When Jin Hyuk returned home, a scene from a movie was unfolding in the yard.

‘It looks like a happy ending scene.’

Hong Soo-jung was sitting under the cherry tree, holding Yoo Jin’s hand as she applied balsam dye. The little hands skillfully crushed balsam flowers, leaves, and alum, wrapping them in plastic.

“Yoo Jin, let’s dye your nails next time.”

“Yeah, hehe.”

The adults were sitting around the table, engaged in a heated discussion.

“My fortune is the best, right?”

“Yeah, your fortune is good.”

“Hey, my fortune is better. According to the interpretation, I’m presidential material, right?”

“Yeah. Let’s set the standard as becoming president. I’ll vote for you.”

It was just… Yoo Se-ra and Hong Ki-jun, who were drowning in Cheon Gil-ryong’s sweet words, were being pushed down by their parents, but as long as they’re happy, it’s fine.

“You can’t be president because you’re too soft!”

“Yeah, a pretty and strong woman should do it.”

“Then I’ll stage a coup.”

“Yeah. Ki-jun, stage a coup. I’ll make Molotov cocktails for you.”

Indeed, mindless flattery is the best. His parents had realized that early on. Unconditional empathy—what great people they are. Their timing in not missing a single word while eating watermelon was especially impressive.

Jin Hyuk climbed the plum tree and watched the adults, thinking.

Isn’t desire the purest form of energy?

The earnest desire to achieve dreams. The reason to live, always pursued no matter where you are or who you’re with.

‘I feel like a philosopher.’

Perhaps Cheon Gil-ryong came to impart some lesson. To not get confused, to not be troubled, and to live straight ahead.

He also said to protect the family that his brother died protecting. Choi Mi-kyung’s grandmother had said something similar.

Since Cheon Gil-ryong didn’t reveal the purpose of his visit, Jin Hyuk could only guess. As they say, the interpretation matters more than the dream, so he steered his thoughts in a direction that was favorable and comforting to himself.

‘So what if there are ghosts? As long as they don’t harm our family, it’s fine.’

He leaned against a thick branch, resting his arm.

He had wondered if ghosts might come out of him because of meditation, but that was probably a stupid thought.

“I said I’d make my name great.”

“Yeah. Your name is pretty, so it’s fine.”

“I said I’d command the world, right?”

“Yeah. Ki-jun, command the world. I’ll buy you a megaphone.”

When will those childish adults grow up?

Hong Soo-jung and Yoo Jin seemed more serious.

“Jang Gun-i! Come here!”

“Hahaha!”

Hehehe.

The kids ran around, trying to dye Jang Gun-i’s claws with balsam dye, but they got tired and collapsed. No matter how drunk Jang Gun-i was, he wouldn’t let the kids catch him.

“Yoo Jin, who are you going to compete with?”

“I’ll compete with my brother.”

“Hey! You little brat! What are you saying to your sister?”

Sigh, Jang Gun-i is better than those immature people…

Jin Hyuk turned his gaze to Jang Gun-i, who had come under the plum tree and lay down as if protecting him.

Growl—squeak.

This guy’s drunk.

The smell of alcohol wafted from Jang Gun-i’s mouth.