TBML 38

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁣⁣⁣⁠⁣⁣⁠⁠⁣⁠⁠⁠⁠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠⁠⁣⁠⁣⁣ ⁣⁠⁣⁣⁠⁠⁠⁠⁣⁠⁣⁠⁠⁣⁠⁣⁠⁣⁠⁣⁣⁣⁠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠⁠⁣⁣⁣Eventually, Yiyeon could no longer bear the hunger and shoved the frozen grains of rice into his mouth. It had been out for so long that it sounded like he was chewing ice rather than rice.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t felt any appetite when he saw the food Dusoe had brought him over the past few days. As a human, there had been times when his long-starved instincts got the better of him at the smell of food. But without fail, whenever he took a mouthful, he ended up too busy vomiting it all back up to actually swallow it.

But this time was different. Even though it wasn’t warm food that, but rather frozen rice, Yiyeon devoured it in a heartbeat, as if he were afraid that it would disappear.

It was because the moment he saw that bundle, Hyunhak came to mind. There really was no particular reason. It wasn’t as if the food had been left with a note saying “Kim Hyunhak,” but the knot tied exactly like his, combined with the long caw of a crow that happened to fly by at that moment, simply made him think of Hyunhak. Only then was Yiyeon finally able to put the food in his mouth.

“I did say I’d come to repay the favor…”

He had also promised to go back and retrieve the gun he had left behind. He had vaguely suspected things might turn out this way, but thinking about Hyunhak made him feel guilty about breaking his promise. He had received such a great favor; if his life was going to be wasted, he could at least use it to repay Hyunhak in some way.

Yiyeon gazed at the snow-covered mountain as he thought of Hyunhak. He wasn’t entirely without such thoughts. If dying this way or that way was all the same, why not die climbing the mountain? He should at least bow to his benefactor once before leaving this world.

He even entertained the absurd thought: What if Hyunhak had taken his promise to repay the favor at face value and was waiting for him right now? But Yiyeon didn’t have the strength to lift a single finger. If he couldn’t even make it over the threshold, how could he possibly reach the summit? It was a completely impossible notion. He’d likely collapse before even leaving the front yard and be discovered by Dusoe, who was sneaking in and out of his own house.

‘Can I really stay in this village?’

After what had happened with Dusoe, the anxiety he had buried deep inside began to crawl back up. Thanks to Dusoe sitting in the middle of the porch all this time, both Byeon and Seo had come by, peeked around, and left on several occasions. If it weren’t for Dusoe, he would have been in serious trouble long ago.

It would have been a relief if it had ended there. It was a situation where it wouldn’t have been surprising if he’d been dragged off somewhere, beaten, and sold into slavery to pay off his debts. He felt miserable realizing that, despite having pushed Dusoe away, he hadn’t been able to do a single thing without him all this time. Yiyeon took another big bite of his rice ball.

The rice grains were so frozen he couldn’t even taste them properly. They were dry, [unauthorized copy]hard, and bitterly cold, yet strangely enough, they went down easily.

What if he ran away as Dusoe had suggested, found his way to Hyunhak’s house by any means necessary, and volunteered to become his servant? He had said he would come to repay a debt of gratitude, but this was like demanding the man who saved his life hand over his belongings. But, would Hyunhak accept him?

He had no idea where such a reckless, optimistic thought had come from. Yiyeon’s life had always been harsh, so he was naturally prone to imagining the worst-case scenario and he was as pessimistic about everything as his own reality. It was a ridiculous fantasy that the usual Yiyeon would never have entertained.

Yet, for some reason, he felt a strong conviction that Hyunhak would do just that. He hadn’t seen him often, nor had they spoken much, but he felt certain that if it were Hyunhak, he would take him in. There was no guarantee that Byeon, who was owed a debt, wouldn’t come all the way to this remote place to find him, but at least it wouldn’t happen immediately. As that thought crossed his mind, his appetite suddenly returned.

The grains of rice, which had felt as hard as stones just moments ago, now tasted cold yet salty. When was the last time he’d had a proper meal? The face of the physician who had clicked his tongue, saying his bones wouldn’t heal if he didn’t eat properly, flashed before his eyes.

He had to eat. Only by eating could he cross that not-so-high threshold, open the gate, and slip away without anyone noticing. For the first time, Yiyeon felt fortunate that his family was poor and lived on the outskirts of the village.

The slope was so steep and the path so overgrown that no one ever climbed the mountain that way, but if he cut diagonally across the back mountain, rough as it was, he could reach the mountain trail he always used without passing through the village. As long as his body held up, Yiyeon was confident he could slip away under the cover of night. He was quick on his feet and made little noise, those were Yiyeon’s specialties.

He shoveled food into his mouth without a care for his appearance, Yiyeon clamped both hands over his mouth as a cough bubbled up from deep within his lungs. He had to eat— he had to finish every last grain, leaving nothing behind —before he could do anything else.

He never wanted to experience that helplessness again, just like the day he was attacked by Dusoe. If such a time came again, he thought, he would have to have enough strength to die together with that beast, to go down together. And so, Yiyeon finished eating twice the amount of rice he used to eat when he was healthy.

The hard, frozen grains of rice scraped the tender flesh inside his mouth, causing a stinging pain, but he chewed them thoroughly and swallowed every last bit. Since he was so weak, eating felt exhausting for the first time.

But now that he had managed to eat a proper meal and nutrients began to circulate, Yiyeon felt as though his numb mind was slowly coming back to life.

He looked at the front yard with clear eyes and glanced furtively at the path leading from his house to the back mountain. Just as wild boars frequently raided Bun’s household, mountain animals would occasionally come down in search of food, and the villagers avoided that stretch entirely for fear of harm.

This was especially true because coming this far rarely led to anything good. As the neighborhood where the poorest commoners in the village lived, even coming in broad daylight risked getting caught up in beatings over unpaid debts or physical altercations.

Of course, Yiyeon was the main cause of such incidents.

For that reason, it was a thoroughfare where few people passed, and even if a loud noise rang out, everyone would just peek their heads out to take a quick look before locking their door, afraid of getting into trouble.

Because of this, Yiyeon used to fear going out into the courtyard after sunset on his way home, but now that he realized it actually helped his escape, he thought that life was indeed something you had to live long enough to see.

Yiyeon looked around and stroked his left arm, which was immobilized with a splint. The physician had visited the day after his altercation with Dusoe. Though the physician had vowed never to set foot in Yiyeon’s house again, Dusoe had pleaded with him to come early that morning.

After examining Yiyeon’s arm, which showed no signs of healing, the physician clicked his tongue in disapproval. He said that even if it healed and the bone set properly, he wouldn’t be able to swing his arm as freely as before.

If he could at least put some strength into his left arm, the journey to escape under cover of night would have been much easier, but he couldn’t just wait endlessly for something that might never happen. And time was of the essence for Yiyeon.

That said, setting out on the escape route immediately was something Yiyeon couldn’t do, even if he wanted to. He needed at least another day or two to build up the strength to walk on a full stomach.

The slope of the mountain behind them was so steep that even seasoned hikers would struggle to climb it. If both his arms were intact, he could have grabbed onto a tree to pull himself up, but as you can see, Yiyeon was stuck as a one-armed man for the time being. In every way, the situation was telling him that today was not the day.

Yiyeon raised his gaze once more to look at the distant mountains, then closed his eyes. The free and vast landscape he had gazed upon while riding on Hyunhak’s back came to mind. The bitterly cold winter wind suddenly felt refreshing. He could almost smell the scent of the forest.

Yiyeon took a couple of deep breaths. Live. Live one more day so I can see him again.

It wasn’t for any grand reason. He simply wanted to see Hyunhak one more time and say a proper goodbye. He wanted to tell him that the fleeting kindness he had shown him was the truest and warmest moment of his life, and that the scenery he had shown him had remained in his mind for a long time, giving him strength on days like today when he wanted to die.

Even if Hyunhak didn’t accept him, that would be enough.

Yiyeon slowly lifted his eyelids. His eyes, which had been hazy like rotten codfish eyes over the past few days, now sparkled like obsidian filled with stars.

Yiyeon closed the door, staggered to his feet, and began packing his belongings. Whether he could actually step outside and flee, or find Hyunhak, was uncertain given his current physical condition, but he carefully sorted through his things, clinging to the sliver of hope that he might succeed.

There wasn’t much to pack. Just a few changes of clothes, some undergarments, and the cloth bundle he’d borrowed from Hyunhak’s house. Even these weren’t necessary, but he’d had enough of standing before Hyunhak looking like a mess. After packing his bundle, Yiyeon slipped his right hand deep beneath the thick bedding and grabbed an object. 

It looked like a small tube made of bamboo, about as thick as a finger, but it was actually a tiny pocket knife that fit into a pouch.

It lacked the splendor of the silver-hilted daggers worn by young ladies from wealthy families and was rough-hewn, but it was a different kind of object from those mere decorative pocket knives.

It was a knife he had received from his master when he first began learning the trade of a hunting; its blade was sharp as a razor, making it perfect for peeling and eating fruit picked along mountain trails. Although his master had given it to him to use on his hikes, Yiyeon had kept it hidden deep beneath his bedding, sleeping with the thought that he might use it to stab himself in the neck if the need arose.

Yiyeon pushed his bundle out of sight into the corner of the room and grabbed the dagger tightly. He was so weak that his hand trembled, unable to hold even that light dagger properly.

This wasn’t a tremor of fear. He wished he could use his left hand to grip it even tighter, but he couldn’t even manage that.

Yiyeon, still clutching the dagger, shoved his trembling hand deep into his pocket. He hoped that the need to use this dagger would not arise, at least not until he left the village.