Chapter 9
The child who returned to Mushimseoro accepted Choyoon’s proposal more readily than expected. I don’t know what kind of resolve he made internally, but the previously heavy atmosphere had significantly improved. Contrary to the expectation that he would be frantically immersing himself in martial arts, he didn’t seem rushed and appeared to trust Choyoon considerably.
If things continued this way, I think I could raise Cheonoh well. Choyoon held hope.
Of course, this hope was shattered within a few days by an unexpected but arguably inevitable fact.
◇
Choyoon smiled inwardly as she watched the three children playing near Mushimseoro. The reason it was an ‘inward’ smile was simple. Not long ago, when she found a copper mirror and saw her own face for the first time, she realized that ‘Choyoon’ never smiles.
After all, the best expression when dealing with young children was a smile. A face that always brightened and smiled positively was the virtue of an elementary school teacher. However, no matter how hard ‘Choyoon’ tried, she couldn’t smile. She couldn’t even manage a weird grimace.
When retracing ‘Choyoon’s’ memories that sporadically surfaced, wondering if her facial muscles were paralyzed due to eating poisonous plants, the reason why he couldn’t smile also surfaced very simply: he was a human who had never smiled since birth.
Just like this tediously formal tone, it seemed inevitable as long as she was living in ‘Choyoon’s’ body. Jung Hayoon, who had tried everything possible, decided to accept positively the body of ‘Choyoon,’ which had martial arts abilities that modern science couldn’t explain.
‘Even so, I thought I was at least smiling properly at the children…….’
No matter how bitter the aftertaste was, there was nothing she could do about it. From now on, she would have to try to make up for it with kinder actions instead of her fixed expression. Determining again, Choyoon continued to grind the herbs finely with a medicine millstone. To make pills, the herbs had to be ground into a fine powder.
“You can’t even climb this, but you want to play with us? Weakling, stay on the ground!”
“N-noona (older sister)… Let’s just go down.”
“Sajo (younger sibling), that’s unkind!”
Before she knew it, Sayoung and Sahyun had climbed up a tree like squirrels, teasing Cheonoh below. To be exact, Sayoung was using the teasing of Cheonoh as a game, and Sahyun didn’t know what to do.
After observing them for a few days, Choyoon found that Sayoung and Sahyun were energetic and lively children. While the younger brother Sahyun was timid and easily swayed, he was gentle and caring. On the other hand, his older sister Sayoung was sharp and sensitive.
Nevertheless, seeing how dearly she regarded and cherished her younger brother showed that she wasn’t a completely heartless child. However, she was particularly wary of Cheonoh, who had suddenly joined and monopolized the attention.
‘He was fine when I treated him. Since he started living as family instead of a guest, has it been this way?’
It was never easy to be kind to the new youngest sibling who suddenly came into their lives when only the two of them had been together since birth. The siblings would play well together but occasionally bully Cheonoh, especially when it got worse, Choyoon, who had been listening, would intervene and mediate.
Merely getting through the moment didn’t solve the fundamental problem, so something had to be done soon. In particular, since Sayoung was increasingly putting the child in embarrassing situations, even in Choyoon’s presence, the severity seemed to be escalating.
Choyoon busily ground the millstone, determined to finish and stop it in due time.
At that moment, Cheonoh, who was looking up at the siblings with a sullen expression from underneath the tree, suddenly turned around.
Is he going to stop playing? Or is he sulking? Choyoon glanced at the child. Cheonoh was walking briskly towards the fence. If he comes this way, I’ll comfort him, Choyoon thought. However, what happened next was beyond Choyoon’s imagination.
Cheonoh raised the axe standing by the place where firewood was chopped. He brushed away the chopped firewood with his foot. Then, dragging the heavy axe head along the ground, he approached the tree Sayoung and Sahyun had climbed. Choyoon, momentarily unable to grasp what was happening, blankly watched the child’s actions.
Soon, Cheonoh uncharacteristically swung the axe with both hands, embedding it into the ground next to the tree. The branches of the tree trembled and made a rustling sound. Naturally, the siblings clung to the tree, screaming in terror.
“Hey! What are you doing!”
“Ahhh!”
Although it was impossible to cut down the tall tree, the impact seemed to convey somewhat. When Cheonoh swung the axe two more times and the children’s screams heightened, Choyoon snapped out of it and approached Cheonoh.
“Seomun Cheonoh, stop.”
Cheonoh halted his movements and put down the axe head. Then he looked up at Choyoon, confused.
“Sayoung, Sahyun. Come down.”
As Choyoon looked up and spread her arms, the two children, with tearful faces, fell one by one into Choyoon’s arms. Choyoon put the siblings sequentially down on the ground, and the frightened children soon burst into tears. While soothing them, Choyoon glanced at Cheonoh. The child’s face still didn’t understand what was wrong or why the siblings were crying.
“Stay here, Cheonoh.”
Just for a moment… Just wait for a moment. First, I need to soothe the crying children.
Leaving Cheonoh behind, Choyoon turned and headed toward Mushimseoro. A single thought filled her mind. She wanted to cry just like the children beside her.
This is a big problem.
Seomun Cheonoh isn’t fully socialized.
◇
It was about an hour later when Choyoon came out after calming Sayoung and Sahyun.
To mitigate their ill feelings towards Cheonoh and soothe the children’s hearts, Choyoon had exhausted all his energy. The sun that was brightly shining had already painted the sky red. The sun on the mountain was always short.
Cheonoh was standing exactly where Choyoon had left him, fidgeting with his hands. Realizing she had inadvertently left the child standing in the mountain for two hours, Choyoon hurriedly approached him.
‘Crazy! When I said to wait here, I didn’t mean not to come inside or sit down!’
“Cheonoh, have you been standing here all this while?”
Contrary to how she felt, the words that came out were calm. Cheonoh bowed his head, looking crestfallen, and his lips moved slightly.
“…upset you.”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
As the silence grew longer, the uneasy child shifted about, and Choyoon silently took him into her arms. The child stiffened, not expecting to be embraced suddenly.
‘If the pacified siblings see this, they might sulk.’
Glancing back at Mushimseoro, Choyoon started walking into the mountain. With each step utilizing internal energy, the scenery around them blurred rapidly, as seen from a subway window. Even in this situation, Choyoon felt a bit thrilled to roam freely through the dense wilderness, a chance non-existent for a modern Korean (though accompanied by a child).
Then, she felt the small hand gripping her collar. Worried that it might be too fast or scary, she looked down at the child, who once again surpassed her expectations. Stopping abruptly, Choyoon hastily gathered herself.
“Why… ehem, why are you crying? Were you scared?”
Trying to calm herself, Choyoon asked. Startled, her voice momentarily broke. The child, who had just been shedding tears, started to cry even harder.
“I’m… I’m sorry. It was all my fault. I won’t do it again, so please forgive me. P-please don’t abandon me.”
“Ssh, stop crying. I’m not… what?”
No, who said anything about abandonment?
Momentarily thrown off, Choyoon asked again, and Cheonoh, wiping his tears with his hands, answered.
“A-aren’t you going to leave me in the mountains? I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
‘…Damn this ancient era!’
If her hands were free, Choyoon would have surely facepalmed. Instead, she closed her eyes and composed herself before calmly explaining.
“From now on, I will pry into your heart. I am only going to a quiet, secluded place because I was worried that your squirrel-like siblings might overhear and make you uncomfortable.”
“…Really?”
“Would I abandon a child who has bowed to me?”
“…”
“So stop crying. This isn’t a place to waste your tears.”
After calming the child’s tears with earnest effort, Cheonoh slowly stopped crying and began to sniffle. Choyoon, adjusting her hold, wiped the child’s smooth cheeks with her sleeve.
Since it had come to this, I might as well bring it up. With these thoughts, Choyoon, walking more slowly than before, continued.
