RPPL C28

They left the mountain. Muyun and Bipa, utterly exhausted, collapsed onto a flat rock.

“The snow is slowing us down.”

Bipa grumbled. Muyun also looked much more tired than usual. It was likely related to him being unwell.

Just then, of all times, it began to snow again. From the gloomy sky, where the weather was foul and the sun did not rise, snowflakes fluttered like ash. In the forest, made even darker by the tall sawtooth oaks, cork oaks, and pine trees, encountering such fickle weather was a perfect recipe for death.

Bipa picked Muyun up onto his back. He had done it without asking, so Muyun couldn’t even say he was fine. As soon as he was on, Bipa grimaced and smiled at the weight that suddenly settled onto his back. It really seemed like it would be difficult to carry Muyun by next year.

For some reason, the snow was piling up faster than usual. His feet sank deep, making each step slow.

“Please put me down.”

When Bipa staggered, Muyun stubbornly tried to get off his back. However, even the resisting Bipa had to put Muyun down when he realized they were just walking in place.

“We’re in big trouble, Muyun. Looks like we’re going to die here.”

Bipa laughed thoughtlessly. But even hearing those words, Muyun’s expression was calm.

He sat Muyun on a tree trunk that was not yet buried in snow. Then he took out a small knife from his bundle. With the knife, which was good for peeling fruit, he made a scratch on the tree.

“Let’s go around one more time.”

He thought about leaving Muyun behind, but in a snow-covered mountain, it’s easy to get separated if you’re not careful. If that happened, Muyun could be devoured by whatever was playing tricks in the mountain and making them walk in circles.

Bipa took Muyun’s hand and slowly pushed through the snow. A short while later, they came across the scratched tree again. They thought they had been walking straight ahead, but in reality, they had been walking in a circle.

“What an interesting trap.”

Bipa muttered and took out the paring knife again. Then, before Muyun had a chance to stop him, he slit his own palm.

Muyun, startled, clung to Bipa’s arm. The child who had been indifferent when he saw the servant die, and when told they might be trapped and die in the mountain, turned deathly pale at the mere sight of his master’s palm being slightly cut.

“It’s nothing. This is just… something like a gosire.”

Bipa soothed Muyun, comparing his blood to the act of offering a piece of food to appease wandering spirits.

“I think I need to call someone.”

He muttered as he let his blood drip onto the white snow. The blood bloomed on the snowfield like black plum blossoms.

“Muyun. Go and stack some stones.”

“Stones? In a situation like this.”

“Like you’d stack in front of a village shrine or a sacred tree.”

“Then you’ll stop the bleeding, right?”

Muyun asked with a doubtful expression. His gaze was constantly fixed on Bipa’s hand. Only after Bipa nodded did the boy move. With his frozen hands, he dug through the snow, found some stones, and stacked a few.

Bipa pressed his stinging hand against the top of it and rubbed. A groan escaped through his teeth.

“Let’s see who’s been playing games.”

A short while later, small footprints appeared on the snow. With no physical form, only the footprints continued in a dotted line, approaching Bipa and Muyun. Bipa hid Muyun behind him and waited.

Soon, the small stone tower collapsed, and the owner of the footprints revealed itself. It was an old man with two pairs of arms.

“What the. It was you?”

He seemed to know Bipa somehow. Bipa, too, relaxed the tension he had been holding without Muyun’s knowledge and replied.

“It was you, old man?”

“Where did you leave that ignorant Dokkaebi fool and end up all by yourself?”

“I’m not alone.”

Smiling faintly, Bipa raised his arm. Muyun’s head peeked out from behind the wide sleeve for a moment before disappearing again.

“Since you see it’s me, please let us out.”

“What’s that thing?”

The old man’s interest was now focused not on Bipa, but on Muyun. Bipa, trying not to be too obvious, hid Muyun and shrugged.

“It’s something I’m raising.”

“To eat?”

“What do you mean, eat? He’s my servant.”

“Don’t lie. What servant.”

“Alright, alright. He’s my disciple, my disciple.”

“You, a master? You’ll just teach him bad things.”

The old man, with his eccentric personality, was the Yaksan Elder who roamed the mountains gathering medicinal herbs. Bipa smiled weakly at his blunt words.

“I don’t do bad things.”

Even at Bipa’s weak voice, the old man just snorted. He’d set a little trap thinking he smelled something tasty, and it turns out one was the inedible Bipa, and the other was Bipa’s new little disciple. He’d come up empty today.

The old man gathered his trap as a spider hides its thread. His two pairs of arms continuously wound a line in the air.

Once he had cleared the trap, the snowy mountain landscape that had been piled up to their shins disappeared. It was now barely ankle-deep, enough that just wearing cotton socks would suffice. Muyun looked around at the gradually changing mountain terrain.

“Old man, you’ve got quite a talent. With that skill, could you find us a good piece of land to hide away in?”

Bipa asked, leaning slightly against Muyun. The old man, still unable to tear his lingering gaze away from Muyun, peeked at him and clicked his tongue.

“Since I made you suffer a bit, I suppose I have to pay you back. Follow me. There’s a good spot nearby.”

The cackling laugh attached to the end of his words sounded quite ominous.

“Master…”

Muyun tugged on Bipa’s collar and called out worriedly. Bipa shook his head as if to say not to worry and, putting his lips together, whispered, “Shh.”

“The Yaksan Elder’s personality is a bit nasty, but he’s good at hiding things.”

“I can hear you, you punk!”

Bipa replied perfunctorily with, “Yes, yes,” and gently pressed his palm with his sleeve.

Belying how they had been wandering in circles, the path that bent down the side of the mountain was short. The terrain was rough, but the steep descent actually saved them time. Muyun and Bipa followed the old man, who was loping ahead with his hands behind his back, sometimes getting ahead, sometimes falling behind.

“People don’t come here often.”

“Then what about things that aren’t people?”

“You’re the one who has to put up with that and live, you punk. Why are you suddenly concerned about such things?”

“That’s not it…”

Bipa trailed off.

As they were almost at the bottom, there was a final, sharply protruding rock, so he went down first. After lifting Muyun, who was standing at the edge of the rock, and setting him down, they had finally descended the mountain.

Muyun, born and raised in the mountains, could have crossed something like this as if it were a small pebble, but he showed no sign of it. Because the hands wrapping around his sides felt ticklish and nice. Because he could pretend not to know and wrap his arms around Bipa’s neck in an embrace.

“This is it. Crops don’t grow well, so you’ll have to rely on the mountain to live.”

“In that case, old man, will you continue to stay on that mountain?”

“Why? You wish I’d leave?”

“Well… maybe a little?”

Bipa chuckled, “Ahaha,” and threw out a joke that wasn’t quite a joke. Muyun, who loved seeing Bipa smile, didn’t even pay attention to the four-armed old man.

“I come and go. But aren’t you going to introduce me to that disciple of yours?”

“……”

“I won’t eat him, you brat. He’s bitter.”

Making a spitting sound, “Ettweh-ttweh,” the old man jumped up and down, asking if he was being doubted. He held grudges for a long time and might sulk for years, so it would be better to just show him and instead say, “He’s my disciple, so don’t touch him.” Bipa gently pushed Muyun’s back.

“…Hello.”

The Yaksan Elder rummaged in his chest and then suddenly took out his hand. In his hand was a sweet olive flower. A flower that should have already withered and gone.

“This is the flower you like, isn’t it?”

Muyun hesitated, then approached and received it with both hands. He nodded. The fragrance of the sweet olive tickled the tip of his nose.

“Yes…”

For the first time, with a deep gaze like that of a real grandfather, the Yaksan Elder roughly patted Muyun’s head.

“You must grow up well.”

“……”

“Though you seem to be a rather stubborn fellow.”

“Can’t you just say ‘grow up healthy’?”

Bipa urged.

“He looks plenty sturdy already.”

Finishing his words, the old man clasped his hands behind his back and, with his remaining hands, stroked his beard as he headed back up the mountain path. Bipa asked.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not even going to find us a house?”

“You want that too? So greedy. May you grow a boil.”

The old man, with his hands behind his back, abruptly made a fist-and-forearm gesture of insult. He was truly foul-mouthed and rough in his actions. Bipa found it so absurd that he just chuckled.

When he lowered his head deeply and then straightened his back again, the old man was no longer in sight.

“He’s a really peculiar old man, isn’t he? He might just pop up and visit us from time to time. So, what did he give you?”

Bipa approached Muyun and asked. Muyun held out the sweet olive. Bipa brought his face close to the flower and smelled it. As expected, it suited Bipa well….

“It smells nice. I didn’t know you liked flowers.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why did he give you this?”

“This is the only one I like.”

Muttering, Muyun carefully tucked the branch inside his clothes.

Bipa, who had been watching this and finding it cute, belatedly looked around the plot of land. It was barren land. It looked like a sandstorm would blow if the wind picked up. It was perfect.

“Muyun. Let’s stop wandering and find a house here.”

Muyun nodded his head. He had no home to return to anyway. Wherever Bipa settled would be his residence and his home. The important thing was being with Bipa.

“Shall I go find a house?”

Since the two of them couldn’t build a house, they had to find an abandoned one nearby.

“Can you find one?”

“I have good eyes, don’t I?”

Watching him speak quite cheekily while tapping his own eyes, Bipa suddenly noticed that the colors of Muyun’s irises were different from each other.

One was a dark, inky blue, and the other was a scorched, lacquer brown.

Perhaps due to the sunlight, it was a difference one wouldn’t know without looking closely. His gaze captivated for a moment, Bipa soon rested his chin on his hand and nodded.

“Go on then. Be careful.”

Muyun brushed off the ice shards on his pant cuffs and stood up. As if he already had a place in mind, he headed to the right without hesitation.