10. I’m on My Way to Meet You Now
“A train ticket to Daegu, please.”
Even in this chaotic period, Choe Hui handled the tasks I gave her without a word of complaint.
Since there was no direct train to Gunwi, the best option available was to take the train headed for Daegu and then transfer to a Gunwi-bound bus after arrival.
“I shall accompany you.”
To my surprise, Choe Hui was unusually stubborn.
Without a word to me, she had already bought two train tickets.
“You needn’t go this far. I need you to keep the workers in line while I’m away, Miss Choe.”
“They seem to be managing well enough on their own, don’t they?”
I had no response to that.
Just as Choe Hui said, the workers— whom I was feeding— had formed something like a self-defense corps on their own to guard the grain storehouse through the night, and they were pushing themselves harder than ever in building the other warehouses and structures, all for my sake.
I’d even tried to talk them out of it, but…
*Ha…*
For the first time since my rebirth, I was bewildered.
What was I to do with this woman?
She had trusted me to some degree from the beginning, but after the incident with Professor Heo Munhoe and the currency reform, I could plainly see that she had begun to take an interest in my every move.
Because I could keenly sense her desire to learn even one more thing from me in order to revive her household, there was nothing I could really say.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel that having her follow me all the way home was crossing a line.
*Sigh… Very well. Let’s go together.*
What strength did I have to refuse?
Looking into those burning round eyes, I simply couldn’t say no.
It wasn’t that I felt anything romantic toward her; there was rather a sense of human solidarity. The struggle for one’s family. That sort of thing.
I had reincarnated solely to give my mother a good life. I could admit Choe Hui was beautiful, but I felt nothing of the sort toward her.
For her part, she was simply desperate to glean whatever she could while staying right by my side.
Bak Minseok, who had inadvertently ended up as the acting manager, had unexpectedly shown a talent for dealing with people. And the sort of militia that had formed between him and the workers was functioning with mutual checks, assistance, and cooperation.
Seeing that, I felt somewhat reassured, then boarded the Daegu-bound train together with Choe Hui.
*Chik-chik*
The train rumbled loudly down the tracks.
Its speed was far inferior to the trains of the era I’d come from, yet I felt something stirring, a warmth creeping into a corner of my heart.
Nowhere along the train’s path could one find a tall building, even if one tried.
Endlessly stretching rice paddies and fields.
And thatched-roof houses visible far, far in the distance.
Turning my eyes skyward again, I didn’t see the murky grey of a sky choked with fine dust. Every inch of heaven within sight held such blueness that it made me want to smack my knee—so this was precisely what they’d meant by “sky-blue.”
“The sky is truly clear.”
Choe Hui had been peeling and eating a boiled egg she’d prepared, but at my muttered words, she began choking and pounding her chest.
“You don’t need to answer every little thing I say. Here, have some water.”
When I handed her the water, her pale face flushed bright red.
This woman certainly grew more difficult to understand the more I knew her.
***
As originally planned, we spent a day in Daegu. The next morning, after boarding the bus to Gunwi, we arrived in no time.
*Skreee*
The bus arrived in Gunwi, its brakes squealing with a metallic shriek.
But there was one thing I learned while traveling with Choe Hui.
“Miss Choe. You eat more than I expected.”
“…….”
Even as she got off the bus, having popped yet another peeled egg into her mouth, her face merely turned bright red instead of answering.
Both of Choe Hui’s cheeks bulged out like a frog’s.
“…Let’s go.”
***
We walked for about thirty minutes.
Our hands were full of food.
The thought that I should have come down to see Mother from the very beginning kept swirling in my head, making it spin.
It had been only about half a year, but I spent the whole journey worrying how a poor household could have endured after the eldest son ran away with all the family’s money.
*Mmmoo—*
A drawn-out ox’s bellow reached my ears, and I turned my head in that direction.
“Huh? If it ain’t Dong-ho!”
He was there in I Dong-ho’s memories.
A fellow who stopped his ox cart and called my name joyfully.
I looked at the scrawny, swarthy kid.
To be honest, most people of this era were gaunt, short, and dark-skinned.
It was the trace of an age without sunscreen, an age when one did not live eating meat to one’s fill.
In that sense, the original I Dong-ho had been somewhat exceptional.
With his tall, balanced frame, he certainly had presence.
At any rate, the guy was Hwang Jaeseok, three years my senior, and his father came from a family that had been well-off in the village for generations.
In a village of this size, one could say they lived with some clout.
He’d been born a precious son in that family and raised with love. As a result, he’d often kicked up minor troubles since childhood.
At any rate, when I—that is, in the original Dong-ho’s memories—was about ten, this fellow had gotten a severe scolding from me and had stuck by my side like a friend ever since, despite the age gap.
Of course, that had happened entirely because Hwang Jaeseok wanted it.
*Thud!*
I loaded my luggage onto his ox cart.
“You been doing well?”
“Huh? Uh. Yeah.”
“Are my parents and siblings doing okay?”
“Huh? Uh… But you’re usin’ Seoul speech? Wow… That’s mighty impressive.”
This Seoul speech—my dialect—kept slipping out whenever it pleased.
I cleared my throat for no reason and pressed him.
“Uh… Hmm… But if I say this, I feel like you’ll hit me again. Are you really in a place to ask if they’re doing well?”
When I fell silent, he seemed to gain momentum and continued.
“You scraped together every penny in the house and ran off to Seoul. How could your parents and siblings be doing well?”
“So?”
“I’ve lived without a care myself, but you really are something else. Your parents can’t even eat properly these days, walking around like that. Your siblings are…”
It seemed I truly had arrived a bit late.
This must be what human greed is like.
It’s always just a little more, just a little more, and you end up making the people you cherish wait.
Perhaps because the timing of my rebirth had been earlier than I’d expected, telling myself I’d do just one more thing before heading down, prepare just one more thing before going, I had somehow let time slip all the way to June.
I’d told myself to keep my guard up, but the thought of my mother and the maternal relatives who must be suffering weighed heavily on a corner of my heart.
Hwang Jaeseok stopped mid-sentence, constantly glancing sideways at the person beside me.
“Uh… But who’s that beside you…? Is she to be your wife…?”
“…….”
“Uh… Um… Hello. I am Hwang Jaeseok.”
He was still a funny fellow. With his awkward Gyeongsang-do dialect mixed with a strange attempt at Seoul speech—hadn’t he said my Seoul speech was impressive?—he greeted Choe Hui in a tone that belonged in a comedy skit. When she gave no response to his greeting, he began sweating buckets and looked at me with a smile that was more like a grimace.
“Dong-ho. Can’tcha introduce me?”
“Not my wife. She’s a company employee who works with me. Miss Choe, this is my hometown friend, Hwang Jaeseok.”
Only after I spoke did Choe Hui offer him a slight greeting with an expressionless face.
“Hello.”
That was the end of it.
After that, throughout the ride on Hwang Jaeseok’s ox cart, Choe Hui merely gazed off into the distance, hardly deigning to reply to anything he said.
*‘Jaeseok… Get a grip. She’s not an easy one.’*
Hwang Jaeseok certainly had character, hurling every sort of question and joke that received no reply in return.
He was the kind of fellow who, like the Foolish Old Man Who Moved the Mountains, would see anything through once he started it.
I wanted to applaud his dogged, straightforward persistence, but his opponent was far too strong.
He couldn’t leave a single scratch on that iron wall.
Watching Jaeseok chatter without pause and Choe Hui gaze with her usual impassive expression at some point in the air beyond the village, I realized his ox cart had arrived at a thatched-roof house before I knew it.
“This isn’t my house?”
“’Course not, you blockhead. You sold your house off. Where’d you think your place was? Get down.”
*Mmmoo—*
To the sound of a languid ox low, Choe Hui and I got down from the cart, and I realized this house was a place from Dong-ho’s memories.
“Is this Min-su’s house?”
“Yeah. Last time, Min-su came down before you and brought your whole family over to this house. You better treat Min-su right, you hear?”
That fellow Min-su had shown me a somewhat unexpected side.
Just as I Dong-ho had changed after my rebirth, had he changed as well?
Or could it be that, afraid of me coming down eventually, he had come groveling on his own initiative?
Whatever the reason, I was grateful, and it felt as though a heavy stone lodged in a corner of my heart had been lifted, if only slightly.
My evaluation of him hadn’t completely flipped, but it had changed a little.
Whether its origin was fear or friendship, the fact remained that he had acted on my behalf while I was away.
“I’m off. I’ll come see your face again later.”
Then he climbed onto his ox cart with as much grandeur as if mounting an automobile and gave Choe Hui a lingering look.
“Haha. Miss Choe Hui. I have business to attend to, so I shall take my leave first.”
*Ah… Jaeseok… You rascal…*
For no reason, I felt embarrassed myself.
I’d thought that since my rebirth, I’d cultivated a mindset unshaken by most things, but his feigned bright smile and clumsy Seoul speech nearly made me lose my composure for an instant.
***
Min-su heard the news from Hwang Jaeseok, who had been seeing us off, and came running drenched in sweat.
Gim Minsu burst into tears again at the sight of me.
I could sense at least a trace of sincerity in his tears.
It wouldn’t erase my resentment all at once, but as I looked at his face, I felt my bitterness slowly fading.
A thatched house with a scant two rooms and one much smaller room set a short distance apart.
One might think three rooms sounded impressively large, but put three tiny, matchbox-sized rooms together and the space remained cramped all the same.
His household numbered ten including himself, his widowed mother, and eight younger siblings—barely enough room to sleep as it was—and I was grateful for the heart that had looked after my family of five for over a month in such a space.
In any case, having gone to Myeongdong and back with me, he must have been just as attuned to the news of the stock market crash in Seoul.
He had been on pins and needles, wondering when I might come down and whether I had lost all the money.
At any rate, Min-su welcomed me gladly and readily made room for my family.
“Oh my. How cute.”
Choe Hui took Min-su’s younger siblings outside to play with them.
She certainly had tact.
No doubt she had excused herself to make room for my reunion with my family.
“Have you been well, Father? Mother?”
Min-su brought my father and mother before me.
Strictly speaking, they were my maternal grandfather and grandmother, and I offered them a deep bow.
“Well done. Now that our eldest son’s back, let’s buckle down and live again.”
“Quiet now… Where does a woman get off interrupting before her husband speaks?”
My maternal grandfather—no, my father—was a typical old-fashioned Gyeongsang-do man.
Taciturn, patriarchal, authoritarian.
And that was precisely why he was weak when it came to his eldest son.
Even when I told him I’d made money, he merely coughed once with an *ahem* and said nothing more.
And so, without many more words, my reunion with my parents after six months came to a close.
*‘From now on, I shall ensure you walk only a path of flowers.’*
The filial piety I had failed to show my parents in my previous life.
I resolved to do right by the parents of this life, at least.
And…
“Momma! Big brother’s here!”
Behind me, the main gate of the head family house burst open with a bang.
A childish voice…
And yet, I knew exactly who it was.
How could I ever forget that voice?
That high-pitched voice I had so rarely been able to hear.
My own little dependent, ever calm and gentle…
My god who gave everything and would have given still more.
Still seated, I curled over and buried my face against the floor.
“*Ngh… Kkh…*”
Tears poured down like a waterfall.
Curled over, I forcibly held back the sobs that burst forth like a fool.
I simply couldn’t raise my head or turn around.
*Thwack!*
“Oppa! Didn’t you bring me anything to eat?!”
To me in that state, it was Mother—no, my younger sister—who thumped my back with loud slaps.
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