🔊 TTS Settings
chapter 30
‘Lose them again? Did their mother… pass away first…?’
The little boy finished speaking, dusted off his hands, and suddenly stood up and walked off toward Hye-eum Temple.
‘…Did I upset him?’
Sitting for a long while in the spot the child had been sitting, Seorin eventually returned to her room with a bitter feeling.
When she opened the door, Dasim and Gabi were sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall and happily eating rabasi.
“You’re back?”
“Huh? Yeah…”
Seorin rinsed herself quickly with the water Gabi had fetched, grabbed a sheet of rabasi, and plopped down beside him.
After a moment, Gabi stared quietly at the rabasi he was peeling apart and asked:
“S-Seorin… W-what’s going to happen to t-those kids now?”
Gabi, like Seorin, had several younger siblings, so the sight of those skeleton-thin children from earlier must have bothered him deeply.
“Yeah… I wonder.”
“O-of course stealing is bad. In…the town I lived in, t-thieves stole g-grains too. But I’ve never seen t-thieves that young. A-and never ones that skinny.”
“Exactly. Looked like if I tapped them with chopsticks, their bones would snap.”
“S-Serin! D-don’t say th-that!”
Gabi shouted, his mouth stuffed full of rabasi.
“…It’s not like I’d actually hit them. I’m just saying.”
Seorin shot him a cold look, then sighed.
“Yeah… they were really terribly thin.”
Dasim stopped chewing and spoke with a worried expression.
“But what happens to them now? I heard that if you get caught stealing, you get flogged…”
“Flogged?”
“Beaten with a rod. I heard it can be up to fifty strikes.”
“What!!”
Fifty strikes? On children who were nothing but skin and bone? Even one strike could kill them!
The image of the starving kids devouring rabasi flashed in Seorin’s mind.
…And over the scene of the children, the face of her younger brother, Changhee, overlapped again.
“Stealing? Sure, it’s wrong. But no one got hurt and nothing was actually stolen. Shouldn’t that lighten their punishment? But if they get beaten to death, isn’t that way too cruel?”
Isn’t the real problem the country that forced kids that young to steal so they wouldn’t starve?!
‘Instead of building this fancy hotel, they should’ve used that money to help the people—’
Just then, a line from the information board at the Hye-eum Visitor Center flashed in her mind.
“…a place for officials and civilian travelers to rest, and in times of famine or plague, it played a role in providing relief for those in hardship, helping stabilize the livelihood of the people…”
‘Relief…’
Relief meant providing aid to disaster victims and the poor at the national level. That was exactly the kids’ situation!
“Guys, we can’t just ignore this, right?”
“H-huh?”
‘Those kids ate my food—I can’t just leave them like this!’
* * *
The Abbot’s Quarters (Bangjang)
The room where the abbot of Hye-eum Temple stayed—Bangjang—was lit by a dim oil lamp as Abbot Hyegwang wrestled with a needle and thread.
He was trying to alter donated winter clothes into smaller sizes, but the stubborn needle eye refused to appear clearly to him no matter how he squinted.
“Aigoo, these old eyes are being obstinate. They refuse to obey my will even for a tiny needle eye.”
He licked the thread again and tried once more—when a small hand quietly took the sewing from him.
“Monk… why aren’t you locking us up?”
The one who spoke was the eldest of the captured children, who now threaded the needle and began sewing with practiced skill.
“What did you say your name was?”
“…Jaeyeol, sir.”
“Ah yes, that was it. My memory tends to run away these days.”
“….”
Jaeyeol’s heart felt like solid lead.
When their attempt at stealing food to cook even a single bowl of porridge for their family had been discovered, he thought they would surely die.
But instead of being handed directly to the authorities or locked up, they were fed, given warmth, and even allowed to sleep indoors.
And this old monk had even given up his own room and insisted on sleeping alongside them, laying out his bedding right next to theirs.
Jaeyeol kept studying the old monk, trying to understand his intentions. Then suddenly, Hyegwang took out some clothes and began sewing just like Jaeyeol’s mother used to when she tore apart his clothes to make new ones for his siblings.
Jaeyeol couldn’t bear to keep watching the old monk struggle to thread the needle, so he took the sewing from his hands.
“…You’re good at this. Doesn’t seem like your first time.”
“…Yes. I often helped my mother with her work.”
From a very young age, long before he even understood the world, Jaeyeol helped his parents with fieldwork and housework alike. Maybe that was why he could mend clothes better than most grown women. He had even remade many of his old clothes into smaller ones for his siblings.
Hyegwang watched him quietly.
“Would you have preferred that I lock you up?”
At that, Jaeyeol put down the cloth he was stitching.
“…No matter what… we are thieves.”
“So you do know you’ve done wrong.”
“…Yes… Um, monk.”
“What troubles you?”
“…We will be taken to the authorities tomorrow, won’t we?”
“Well, who knows? Everything goes according to Buddha’s will.”
“…Sorry?”
Hyegwang sat silently for a long moment before standing up.
“I shall step out for a while.”
Jaeyeol panicked. If the monk left, there would be no one watching them.
“W-what if we run away?!”
“Will you?”
“N-no!”
“Then what is the problem?”
Hyegwang walked out without even looking back.
Hyegwang headed to the infirmary of Hye-eum Temple.
Several lamps lit the room brightly, and the air was thick with the smell of medicinal decoctions.
One monk stood at the medicinal counter, adding herbs to a pot set over a charcoal brazier. The moment the herbs were added, a sweet yet bitter scent spread through the room.
“Is there improvement?”
“You’ve come, sir.”
The monk guided Hyegwang to the inner part of the infirmary where a patient bed stood.
Behind the curtain stood Euncheon, Jungyeong, and Lee Jeong-ah, all with worried faces.
On the bed lay Ko Jang-nam, the kitchen master who had collapsed earlier, his face pale.
“Monk, you’re here.”
“Yes.”
Hyegwang sat beside the bed, lifted the man’s wrist, and closed his eyes as he felt his pulse.
He was the abbot of Hye-eum Temple, but he had also been a renowned physician in Myohyang Mountain.
“…Hmm.”
“H-how is he?”
Lee Jeong-ah asked anxiously.
“Fortunately, he is improving.”
She let out a relieved breath.
“Why did he suddenly collapse?”
Euncheon, who stood behind, asked.
“It seems he consumed a purgative.”
“A purgative? Isn’t that a medicine that causes diarrhea?”
Startled, Lee Jeong-ah looked at the younger monk who had been decocting herbs, and he answered:
“Yes. When brewed strong, some teas can cause stomach cramps and severe diarrhea. It appears he drank such a tea. This was found discarded behind the kitchen.”
“Oh dear…”
He unfolded a sheet of paper. Inside were the leftover grounds of the tea he mentioned.
“…Ugh…”
Just then, a faint groan escaped Ko Jang-nam’s lips.
“Are you awake?”
At Hyegwang’s voice, the man’s eyelids trembled slightly before slowly lifting.
“…Monk? Why am I…?”
“Do you not remember? You collapsed in the kitchen.”
‘Lose them again? Did their mother… pass away first…?’
The little boy finished speaking, dusted off his hands, and suddenly stood up and walked off toward Hye-eum Temple.
‘…Did I upset him?’
Sitting for a long while in the spot the child had been sitting, Seorin eventually returned to her room with a bitter feeling.
When she opened the door, Dasim and Gabi were sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall and happily eating rabasi.
“You’re back?”
“Huh? Yeah…”
Seorin rinsed herself quickly with the water Gabi had fetched, grabbed a sheet of rabasi, and plopped down beside him.
After a moment, Gabi stared quietly at the rabasi he was peeling apart and asked:
“S-Seorin… W-what’s going to happen to t-those kids now?”
Gabi, like Seorin, had several younger siblings, so the sight of those skeleton-thin children from earlier must have bothered him deeply.
“Yeah… I wonder.”
“O-of course stealing is bad. In…the town I lived in, t-thieves stole g-grains too. But I’ve never seen t-thieves that young. A-and never ones that skinny.”
“Exactly. Looked like if I tapped them with chopsticks, their bones would snap.”
“S-Serin! D-don’t say th-that!”
Gabi shouted, his mouth stuffed full of rabasi.
“…It’s not like I’d actually hit them. I’m just saying.”
Seorin shot him a cold look, then sighed.
“Yeah… they were really terribly thin.”
Dasim stopped chewing and spoke with a worried expression.
“But what happens to them now? I heard that if you get caught stealing, you get flogged…”
“Flogged?”
“Beaten with a rod. I heard it can be up to fifty strikes.”
“What!!”
Fifty strikes? On children who were nothing but skin and bone? Even one strike could kill them!
The image of the starving kids devouring rabasi flashed in Seorin’s mind.
…And over the scene of the children, the face of her younger brother, Changhee, overlapped again.
“Stealing? Sure, it’s wrong. But no one got hurt and nothing was actually stolen. Shouldn’t that lighten their punishment? But if they get beaten to death, isn’t that way too cruel?”
Isn’t the real problem the country that forced kids that young to steal so they wouldn’t starve?!
‘Instead of building this fancy hotel, they should’ve used that money to help the people—’
Just then, a line from the information board at the Hye-eum Visitor Center flashed in her mind.
“…a place for officials and civilian travelers to rest, and in times of famine or plague, it played a role in providing relief for those in hardship, helping stabilize the livelihood of the people…”
‘Relief…’
Relief meant providing aid to disaster victims and the poor at the national level. That was exactly the kids’ situation!
“Guys, we can’t just ignore this, right?”
“H-huh?”
‘Those kids ate my food—I can’t just leave them like this!’
* * *
The Abbot’s Quarters (Bangjang)
The room where the abbot of Hye-eum Temple stayed—Bangjang—was lit by a dim oil lamp as Abbot Hyegwang wrestled with a needle and thread.
He was trying to alter donated winter clothes into smaller sizes, but the stubborn needle eye refused to appear clearly to him no matter how he squinted.
“Aigoo, these old eyes are being obstinate. They refuse to obey my will even for a tiny needle eye.”
He licked the thread again and tried once more—when a small hand quietly took the sewing from him.
“Monk… why aren’t you locking us up?”
The one who spoke was the eldest of the captured children, who now threaded the needle and began sewing with practiced skill.
“What did you say your name was?”
“…Jaeyeol, sir.”
“Ah yes, that was it. My memory tends to run away these days.”
“….”
Jaeyeol’s heart felt like solid lead.
When their attempt at stealing food to cook even a single bowl of porridge for their family had been discovered, he thought they would surely die.
But instead of being handed directly to the authorities or locked up, they were fed, given warmth, and even allowed to sleep indoors.
And this old monk had even given up his own room and insisted on sleeping alongside them, laying out his bedding right next to theirs.
Jaeyeol kept studying the old monk, trying to understand his intentions. Then suddenly, Hyegwang took out some clothes and began sewing just like Jaeyeol’s mother used to when she tore apart his clothes to make new ones for his siblings.
Jaeyeol couldn’t bear to keep watching the old monk struggle to thread the needle, so he took the sewing from his hands.
“…You’re good at this. Doesn’t seem like your first time.”
“…Yes. I often helped my mother with her work.”
From a very young age, long before he even understood the world, Jaeyeol helped his parents with fieldwork and housework alike. Maybe that was why he could mend clothes better than most grown women. He had even remade many of his old clothes into smaller ones for his siblings.
Hyegwang watched him quietly.
“Would you have preferred that I lock you up?”
At that, Jaeyeol put down the cloth he was stitching.
“…No matter what… we are thieves.”
“So you do know you’ve done wrong.”
“…Yes… Um, monk.”
“What troubles you?”
“…We will be taken to the authorities tomorrow, won’t we?”
“Well, who knows? Everything goes according to Buddha’s will.”
“…Sorry?”
Hyegwang sat silently for a long moment before standing up.
“I shall step out for a while.”
Jaeyeol panicked. If the monk left, there would be no one watching them.
“W-what if we run away?!”
“Will you?”
“N-no!”
“Then what is the problem?”
Hyegwang walked out without even looking back.
Hyegwang headed to the infirmary of Hye-eum Temple.
Several lamps lit the room brightly, and the air was thick with the smell of medicinal decoctions.
One monk stood at the medicinal counter, adding herbs to a pot set over a charcoal brazier. The moment the herbs were added, a sweet yet bitter scent spread through the room.
“Is there improvement?”
“You’ve come, sir.”
The monk guided Hyegwang to the inner part of the infirmary where a patient bed stood.
Behind the curtain stood Euncheon, Jungyeong, and Lee Jeong-ah, all with worried faces.
On the bed lay Ko Jang-nam, the kitchen master who had collapsed earlier, his face pale.
“Monk, you’re here.”
“Yes.”
Hyegwang sat beside the bed, lifted the man’s wrist, and closed his eyes as he felt his pulse.
He was the abbot of Hye-eum Temple, but he had also been a renowned physician in Myohyang Mountain.
“…Hmm.”
“H-how is he?”
Lee Jeong-ah asked anxiously.
“Fortunately, he is improving.”
She let out a relieved breath.
“Why did he suddenly collapse?”
Euncheon, who stood behind, asked.
“It seems he consumed a purgative.”
“A purgative? Isn’t that a medicine that causes diarrhea?”
Startled, Lee Jeong-ah looked at the younger monk who had been decocting herbs, and he answered:
“Yes. When brewed strong, some teas can cause stomach cramps and severe diarrhea. It appears he drank such a tea. This was found discarded behind the kitchen.”
“Oh dear…”
He unfolded a sheet of paper. Inside were the leftover grounds of the tea he mentioned.
“…Ugh…”
Just then, a faint groan escaped Ko Jang-nam’s lips.
“Are you awake?”
At Hyegwang’s voice, the man’s eyelids trembled slightly before slowly lifting.
“…Monk? Why am I…?”
“Do you not remember? You collapsed in the kitchen.”
