RPPL C13

Muyun’s fingernails had all grown back. A long time had passed since the broken nails fell off and new, pale ones grew in, yet Muyun did not leave.

It wasn’t as if anything special had happened in the meantime. The only change, perhaps, was that the small, palm-sized vegetable patch had gotten slightly bigger. The two of them lived like any ordinary farming couple, self-sufficiently.

However, Muyun had grown a little. It seemed he had been thin and small from malnutrition, because once he started eating properly, he grew quickly. In probably two or three more months, he would more than catch up to the physique of an average ten-year-old.

Bipa, his hair a bird’s nest, got up and immediately fed the cats. Not just the cats, but also chirping young spiritual beasts gathered and opened their beaks. They were very strange-looking things, like snowballs with one large eye and one beak each. To Muyun, they were just bizarre-looking, but Bipa said they were cute.

Watching Bipa himself, still not fully awake and yawning, Muyun spoke.

“You’re spoiling them.”

“What?”

“Those things, Master.”

Muyun frowned, looking at a young spiritual beast grunting as it chewed on a fishbone.

“How heartless. Don’t you feel sorry for these little things?”

Bipa asked playfully at his expression. But Muyun shook his head while sweeping.

“Not the cats, but those snowball-like things. They’re cunning, coming to get food when they don’t necessarily need to eat it.”

“Aha. I know a thing or two about cunning. I recall someone who didn’t need to, but pretended they couldn’t speak.”

“That’s not it….”

Muyun let out a deep sigh.

“I mean, whatever it is, I just don’t understand why you bother to save weak things.”

“Isn’t that too cold-hearted of you?”

“It’s not that I’m being cold-hearted, but isn’t this the way of nature? The one you spoke of, Master.”

Muyun looked back with a face that seemed to say, “what are you talking about?”

“And that is what I am learning from you, Master.”

“He remembers so well what I’ve only said a few times.”

Bipa muttered, displeased.

If there was anything he had taught besides farming the vegetable patch, it was the order and principles of the world. Bipa had told Muyun not to act knowledgeable just because he could see and hear things. He said that nothing good comes from interfering, that he should only do so when he can’t help it, and that he must be clearly aware of what he is doing.

And yet, he himself was diligently meddling in the lives of young cats and young spiritual beasts.

“Helping the weak is fine, to a degree.”

Muyun had his doubts about that statement. Of course, he kept them to himself. In Muyun’s experience, from his short life, being weak meant being the first to die or the first to be sold. The teaching that it was okay to help was foreign to his world.

“I saved you and brought you here when you were weak. You, too, are young and weak, so don’t be so harsh on those who are similar.”

Muyun’s pride was hurt at being put in the same category as those young spiritual beasts, but at the same time, Bipa’s words hit home, and he shut his mouth. Bipa grinned and looked at the speechless Muyun.

“I’m going to the market.”

Muyun changed the subject in a pouting tone. The sun had just risen to the center of the sky, so he stopped sweeping and prepared to leave. If he stayed any longer, Bipa would surely tease him, asking if he was once again amazed by his master’s teachings.

In truth, Bipa taught next to nothing. All he did was teach a little bit whenever he felt like it. It was a good thing Muyun hadn’t stayed by Bipa’s side because he wanted to learn something. Nevertheless, not wanting to see Bipa gloat, Muyun’s movements to get ready were faster than usual.

Going to the market was now Muyun’s job. Bipa, who was neither a tenant farmer nor a diligent cultivator of his fields, had no choice but to buy and eat what others produced. However, it was also hard to say he was a wise consumer, so at some point, Muyun took over the task.

At Muyun’s words, Bipa got up and shook the drawer of the wooden floor chest. The old lock came undone easily with just a few jiggles. It made one wonder why it was locked at all. Then again, a house this old and eerie would probably be passed over by thieves anyway.

“We’ve almost used it all up.”

Bipa clicked his tongue. It was a relief that since the government office cracked down, enforcing the use of only state-minted coins, he no longer had to recklessly demand other things for payment as he used to.

“Have a safe trip.”

Bipa sniffled from the cold weather and waved his hand. Muyun interjected with displeasure.

“The sun is high in the sky now, please dress warmly.”

“I probably will by the time you get back.”

It wasn’t just Muyun’s fingernails that had grown during that time. The intimacy between Bipa and Muyun had also grown in its own way.

Muyun was a dependable child, twice as much as his age and size would suggest. As if to mock how he had pushed him away and acted heartlessly, Bipa quickly opened up his heart.

A child, of all things. He had come to live with a being he neither liked nor was accustomed to, but surprisingly, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. In fact, it was Bipa who was being looked after attentively. The house became so clean that not a speck of dust remained in the corners, and his torn clothes were, at some point, skillfully mended.

Haesol’s prediction had been correct. Every time he realized this, Bipa’s pride would be wounded by the fact that Haesol was right and he was wrong, and he would needlessly throw more tantrums at Muyun.

“Hurry back. Your master is hungry.”

Muyun nodded at his master’s childish urging. The sight of him carrying the bundle on his back overlapped with the image of when he first brought him here.

Suddenly, he shivered and went into the room. Finding himself, who was casually saying goodbye, awkward and strange.

❀࿐

Muyun returned. The rice in the small silk pouch swayed and shifted from side to side with every step he took. Although it was mixed with a lot of other grains, Muyun was as happy as if it were white rice.

To Muyun, a meal was not something to be had, but something to be eaten if he was lucky. But living with Bipa, it became a matter of course.

Every day, sitting across from the same table, eating the same food. Life with Bipa was better than the unimaginable meat side dishes and silk clothes.

That wasn’t the only thing Bipa had given him.

‘I can’t say I’ll make it happen, but if there’s anything you want to do, tell me. Anytime.’

Muyun was born the son of a slash-and-burn farmer. His neighbors and relatives were also slash-and-burn farmers. It was their fate to move to another place after burning everything, eventually even the breath of the land. Wherever they went, the yoke of tenant farming never left them. Even when they starved and children died, everyone lived on in resignation, thinking that’s just how things were.

Something you want to do. Who ever wondered about that, and who ever held such a thing in their heart?

But Muyun now began to think about what he wanted to do. What he would do as he grew up, and who he wanted to do it for.

He didn’t know what that was yet, but at least it was clear who it was for. It was so obvious there was no need to ask. Because for Muyun, there was only Bipa.

Bipa was the person who had opened up a different path for Muyun. He gave him a name and the possibility of a different life. From the moment he broke the poison jar and saved him, Muyun could see no one else. To Muyun, Bipa was the light of his life, his parent, and his master.

It didn’t matter if Bipa didn’t know that fact. Just as it wouldn’t change that he called him Master, whether Bipa taught him anything or not.

He probably doesn’t know. His master tends to be indifferent to the things that surround him.

Whether he was looking at the kittens that came to play, or the sky, or at him, Bipa’s gaze was always the same. It was a relief that he could at least say he was on the cuter side of things.

But when he thought that he was on the same level as those beasts or spiritual beings, he would get annoyed with them for no reason, just like what had happened a little while ago.

Those things that Bipa gives his attention to….

Muyun was sometimes surprised by this greed that occasionally surged within him. The childishness of wanting to be seen as more special than at least the cats and the sky, something he had never even demanded from his parents, would pop out unexpectedly.

It’s not just the fingernails and the body that are growing.

“Oops.”

On his way back, Muyun didn’t see the mud patch and misstepped. The cold rain that fell before winter came had made the path slippery. It was now quite chilly in the mornings and evenings.

It was as if Bipa barely felt the cold; regardless, he still went around with the ribbons of his top loosely tied, whether his chest was showing or not. He was a person who was not meticulous in many ways…. But to judge him as such, his own state, with his foot stuck in the mud, was also a sight to behold. Muyun came back with a wobbling gait, shaking his foot in the air.

“…it.”

“……”

Someone was visible beyond the shabby door that looked like it would blow away in the wind. The tone of voice was rather harsh. It seemed the topic of conversation was not a very pleasant one.

Once he realized that, although this was clearly the place he knew, he couldn’t easily enter. As he loitered around, he heard Bipa’s voice from inside. He was probably sitting inside on the wooden floor, as he was not visible.

At that moment, unlike Bipa’s voice, which was barely audible, the other person continued in a voice loud enough for Muyun to hear.

“I may have come as a representative, but please just consider that I don’t feel at ease having to say such things.”

It was a familiar voice he had heard a few times. Muyun recognized him as the old man who acted as the village chief. The sound of wandering footsteps could be heard, as if he were pacing back and forth, beating around the bush.

“But these days, the atmosphere in our village is quite unsettled, and people are coming and going less and less, and in the midst of it all, there are young ones who cry, saying the child being raised here is scary. You understand our hearts, not wanting to tremble in anxiety any longer, right?”