RPPL C7

Leaving the sea of grass, they saw the entrance to a village bustling with people at its end. Thatched-roof houses with earthen walls, a large, well-structured house, and behind them, a tile-roofed house that exuded an air of dignity as it looked down upon the surrounding homes, were all tangled together. Unlike the destitute graveyard where Bipa lived, the village was thriving.

“Do you remember where you used to live?”

Bipa asked Muyun, his gaze upon the noisy crowd somehow displeased.

Muyun, on the other hand, grew more and more expressionless as they neared the village. His look was not that of a child but of an old man, creating a discord with his youthful appearance. With eyes completely devoid of affection, Muyun shook his head.

Was it that he didn’t remember, or that he didn’t want to? But Bipa thought it was pointless to ask. He, too, had long stopped recalling things he didn’t want to remember. Over time, those events began to feel as if they were experienced in a dream, or like stories heard about someone else, not his own experiences.

“There’s no need to remember things you don’t want to.”

Bipa, about to push back his cumbersome hair, noticed a blade of grass on his sleeve and picked it off.

It wasn’t just grass. A grasshopper had attached itself to Bipa’s sleeve at some point. It was just that Bipa, with his poor observation skills, hadn’t noticed it. Muyun, instead, secretly picked it off and casually tossed it away. A passing cow happened to step on it, crushing it.

“Let’s go. Looking at your state, you’re no different from a clown troupe. I have no talent for playing the kkwaenggwari nor can I dance, so it would be quite a problem if someone mistakes us for a troupe of performers, wouldn’t it?”

Actually, a clown would be better. At least they wore clothes that fit.

Bipa glanced at Muyun from the corner of his eye. The rolled-up sleeves were pointlessly sliding down from his shoulders, and his shoes made a clattering sound with every step. It seemed the pebbles had fallen out when Bipa had lifted Muyun up just a moment ago.

Bipa scratched his cheek in embarrassment, thinking he should have just come out alone quickly to buy clothes first, regretting bringing him along.

At the village entrance, Jangseung, with the names ‘Great General of All Under Heaven’ and ‘Female General of the Underworld’ carved into their bodies, stood tall, scrutinizing each person who passed. Bipa bowed to them as he passed. Muyun stood blankly beside him, watching what Bipa was doing.

“Do you want to try it too?”

At Bipa’s words, Muyun made a face as if to ask what on earth he was supposed to do. He seemed quite stubborn and had the personality to state his mind clearly. It’s just that he couldn’t speak.

“It’s a Jangseung. They may not look like it, but they like being shown appreciation and receiving thanks. If you thank them, they’ll be in a better mood and protect us better.”

Muyun subtly turned his head and avoided Bipa’s gaze. Well now, look at that stubbornness. Bipa, muttering inwardly, grabbed Muyun’s head and forced him into a deep bow. Only then did Muyun reluctantly bow his head.

The white-painted, peeling eyes of the Jangseung followed the motion before looking away. Bipa sensed the gaze and let out a soft sigh.

“Well, to your eyes, I might seem strange for saying things like this.”

But what else could he talk about? This was the only kind of story he knew. Especially with a young child, he was even more clueless about how to speak to him.

“As you can see, you’ve chosen the wrong person. I’ll find someone decent for you to stay with, so….”

However, before he could finish his sentence, Muyun gripped Bipa’s sleeve tightly. He was so strong that it felt like the sleeve would rip if he tried to force his arm away.

Bipa was a little flustered. Why is he suddenly acting like this? He seems angry.

“L-let go of this….”

When he tried to shake him off, Muyun’s grip only tightened. It was surprising where such strength came from in that small body.

Bipa, replaying his own words in his mind, finally seemed to understand why the child was clinging to him. It seemed he had been too obvious about his annoyance. He had been thoughtless. This child must be anxious about what would happen to him.

Muyun’s eyes showed a stubbornness that he would not go anywhere. Bipa was almost overwhelmed by his desperation and earnestness.

“Alright. I get it, so….”

At that moment, someone really did push Bipa. A peddler of bottled liquor strode past them. They were already in the middle of the village.

“Hey! Stop blocking the way and move to the side.”

A person who had been incessantly fanning themselves at a stall chided them.

The tension that had been flowing between Bipa and Muyun instantly broke. Bipa pulled Muyun to the side, and only then did the people waiting behind them flock to the stall.

“…….”

“…….”

Bipa pulled his captured sleeve free. As the sleeve slipped away, Muyun was about to lunge again, but Bipa quickly grabbed his hand. At that, the child, with wide eyes, became surprisingly calm in an instant. The small, captured hand fidgeted as if it felt awkward.

“…I don’t have a place to send you to right now anyway, so don’t worry. For now, yes. Let’s buy clothes first.”

Bipa pulled Muyun, whose mouth was stubbornly shut.

Because the next town over had a large port frequented by even blue-eyed foreigners, this place was also bustling with people at all hours. Loud laughter erupted along with boisterous voices from a two-story inn built on a raised platform, and one in ten times, a fight would break out, creating a scene of utter chaos.

Bipa bit his tongue at the dizziness he felt, realizing anew how the world had changed. Since some time ago, foreigners started visiting this village, and the already crowded place became twice as noisy.

I hate crowds. I hate commotion even more. Maybe it’s about time to leave.

As he was thinking this, Bipa stopped dead in his tracks at a pull on his hand. It seemed he had been walking while lost in thought. A child who had been awake for less than half a day was looking out for Bipa. Whether Muyun was quick-witted or smart, he led Bipa straight to the place he had been looking for.

Where Muyun pointed, there was a cloth shop with only flies buzzing around. It seemed they made clothes too, but it was shabby compared to the other cloth shops.

A quick look around was enough to tell. The other shops were lined with vibrant, primary-colored silks, and plenty of glossy animal furs were hung up. These days, more and more extravagant patterns and colors, and increasingly cumbersome decorations were in fashion, but the owner of this place seemed to have a taste that was far removed from that trend.

Bipa gave a rough nod. The first step was to go inside anywhere. The sun, already lodged at the highest point in the sky, was beating down with needle-like heat, making his exposed skin sting.

“Welcome.”

The owner greeted them gruffly. He half-rose, gave a cursory nod, and then rummaged through a ledger, which, upon a glance, was clean. There were no customers.

“I’d like to have some clothes tailored for this child. A few sets with fabric that’s cool and doesn’t wear out easily even with rough washing.”

“Can you even pay for it?”

“What a heartless and rude person. Of course I can.”

Bipa showed his displeasure at the blatant disrespect and inwardly clicked his tongue at the stinginess of people’s hearts.

The owner carefully observed Bipa as he rummaged through his bundle. He looked to be twenty-two at most, and while the fabric of his clothes was of good quality, it wasn’t expensive silk. He didn’t seem to be from a wealthy family. He mentally shortlisted a few fabrics to use.

In the meantime, Bipa took money out of his pouch. The newly minted money was heavy and thick. Though they were coins, the shape of the hole in the center was not uniform, making them inconvenient to carry. This was all due to the mushrooming of incompetent officials.

“Hey, this won’t do.”

The owner saw what Bipa took out and immediately shook his head.

“This has no value.”

“What? It was made by the state, why does it have no value?”

“Have you been locked up somewhere? Who uses this stuff these days? Goods are better. Rice, or silk!”

You’re not easy… Bipa, having failed at haggling, tied up his pouch with a gloomy face. To think the coins he had carried so heavily were nothing more than lumps of scrap metal. He should have just melted them down to make a new sickle. The sickle at home was chipped and didn’t cut well.

“Then, the clothes……”

Just as he was trailing off, wondering what to do now, Muyun, who had been quietly looking up at Bipa, pointed at Bipa’s pouch. Only then did Bipa say, “Ah,” and hold out the pouch.

What he promptly held out was a high-quality item, with fine fabric and skillfully embroidered thread, clearly something that would fetch a high price. It was something he had received for driving away some bugs somewhere. The only problem was that it looked visibly used and showed signs of having been made quite some time ago.

“Well, with this… it’s still not enough.”

“I’m not asking for high-end fabric anyway. And let’s put the rest on a tab. How about it?”

“On a tab? What am I supposed to do if you run off then?”

Bipa, who had just been thinking about skipping town, flinched. Flustered, his movements became exaggerated. He rummaged noisily through the bundle on his back and took out every single pouch he had.

Although Bipa’s belongings were shabby, his pouches were all high-quality items made of silk. This was because they were the rewards he often received for being light, easy to carry, and pretty.

“Here! Two should be enough!”

The owner took the pouches Bipa offered spiritedly and inspected them meticulously. Only after checking for any pulled threads or moth damage did he nod. After a long roundabout, the deal was finally struck.