7C | Chapter 02.3

Manager Hwang arrived just before 6 PM, though Seonrak Mountain was already sinking into dusk. Dressed in a neat suit and coat with hiking boots, he clearly knew his way around. Handing over a bag of comfortable clothes and study materials, he peered into the room with a worried expression.

“Spending a whole week in a place like this…”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you really okay?”

“I said I’m fine. But…”

Glancing past Manager Hwang to ensure no one else was nearby, Yoonjae lowered his voice.

“Where’s the nearest police station?”

“Police station? Did something happen?”

“No, not to me, but…”

He trailed off, unsure how to explain. Eventually, he just shook his head with a sigh.

“Never mind. You’ll be back Friday afternoon?”

“Ah… Yes. That’s the plan.”

“Okay. See you then.”

With a faint smile, Yoonjae nodded dismissively. Hwang hesitated, clearly uneasy, but ultimately turned to leave. He needed to hurry and descend the mountain to make it down before full dark.

“Call me immediately if anything happens, Young Master.”

“Yeah, don’t worry.”

A secretary in the 21st century calling his employer’s son Young Master was downright embarrassing, but it was his father’s policy. The man was convinced Yoonjae would succeed him someday, and Hwang would need to serve him then, so hierarchy had to be established early.

Well, is that really something that’ll go your way? Yoonjae didn’t bother asking. There was no point.

***

Youngso didn’t return to the room until 9 PM. Without a word, he laid out two bedding sets, one near the heated floor, the other by the door, and immediately lay down on the latter. Leaning on the low table, Yoonjae watched blankly before asking.

“Going to bed already?”

A dark head of hair popped up from under the thick blankets. The cheap bulb light made his pale face and stark black eyes stand out unnervingly.

“I can sleep even with the light on.”

“……”

The cryptic statement was followed by Youngso turning away again. Yoonjae puzzled over it before realizing it probably meant Don’t mind me, do what you want.

With the early mountain sunset, there was depressingly little to do. After showering in the bathroom Miran had shown him, Yoonjae had pulled out his study materials out of sheer boredom. Youngso must’ve assumed he was studying and didn’t want to disturb him.

Sighing, Yoonjae closed the book and turned off the light. In the dark, Youngso seemed to pause briefly but didn’t move or speak.

Perhaps he’d grown accustomed to the heated floor, because this time, he fell into a deep sleep almost immediately. What roused him in the tranquil predawn wasn’t a dream but the faintest rustling. The sound of blankets being folded, bare feet on clean floors, the whisper of hemp cloth being pulled over thin limbs… Then the soft creak of the sliding door opening and closing.

A moment later, from beyond the door, the porch floor groaned under the weight of overnight dew. Only then did Yoonjae open his eyes. His phone screen glowed 4 AM. Having gone to bed early, waking now was natural, but the unfamiliar hour left him disoriented.

“Ha…”

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes. Youngso’s bedding was already neatly put away, and the outside world was silent.

…Did he leave at this time yesterday, too? Recalling Youngso’s return around 6 AM, Yoonjae scratched the back of his head.

‘During prayer, only pure foods.’

‘Dongja-nim is doing purification prayers…’

Even if he wasn’t sure of the details, it was clear that all this early morning fuss had something to do with that so-called “prayer.” After a moment of hesitation, Yoonjae finally got to his feet. Call it crude curiosity if you must, but he figured knowing what the hell was going on in this place would make him feel a little less wronged.

The sneakers from the cabinet were slipped on before stepping outside, where the morning wind lashed at his ears. Hunched against the cold, he descended into the courtyard. The dim moonlight was just enough to navigate by.

Now, where would that complicated kid have gone? Moving slowly along the path he’d memorized during the day, Yoonjae suddenly froze.

A faint sound of water.

“……”

Holding his breath, he waited. There it was again. The sound of cupped hands lifting water. Following it led to a side gate near the storage shed. Carefully stepping on scattered stones to muffle his footsteps, Yoonjae approached.

Even with the padding Manager Hwang had brought, the cold raised goosebumps on his exposed skin. But what he saw upon passing the gate made his heart lurch violently.

Youngso, in his thin hemp robe, knelt before the well. The sash around his waist was loose, the front of his robe parted to free his arms, exposing his painfully thin back, which were covered in bruises.

Then came the unthinkable.

Tilting his head slightly, Youngso lifted a wooden bucket and poured its contents over himself. The water cascaded over his hair and neck.

Is he insane? Yoonjae’s breath caught. Without thinking, he stomped forward.

“Dongja-nim!”

The shout made Youngso jolt, the bucket slipping from his hands with a heavy thud. When he turned, his face held genuine shock for the first time.

“Are you trying to freeze to death?!”

In this temperature, dousing himself outdoors? Yoonjae ripped off his padded jacket and threw it over Youngso’s shoulders. The boy looked utterly bewildered.

“What are you—”

“You tell me! What the hell is this?”

“I told you… didn’t I? I have to pray every in-si hour because of the bad luck…”

“I don’t know what nonsense you’re talking about, but get up first.”

Yoonjae grabbed the boy’s bare arm to help him up, but Youngso let out a stifled gasp. It was short and low, but full of pain, like someone being crushed under a weight. Startled, Yoonjae immediately let go. Youngso, who had collapsed back onto the damp ground, tensed his entire body and panted heavily.

“….”

Yoonjae slowly looked down. The bruises covering the boy’s back and arms looked even darker than before. No way… it must be just my imagination. Swallowing dryly, he crouched down.

“…Dongja-nim? Are you okay?”

The boy lifted his head sluggishly. His lips parted with a rough, strained sound. Unlike his bruised body, his face was deathly pale, almost ghostly in the darkness.

“…touching, someone… in the middle of prayer…”

“What?”

“During… prayer… can’t… be touched…”

The fragmented words cut off abruptly as his eyes rolled back. The collapse was sudden and graceless.

“—Auntie!”

In the cold and silent night, deep within a mountain hermitage where not even the sound of insects could be heard, his voice rang out clearly. Not even knowing where she was, Yoonjae called out for her blindly, desperately lifting Youngso onto his back.

“Auntie Miran!”

Youngso’s arm dangled near Yoonjae’s ear, swaying like a willow branch. The bruises, already blue-black, seemed to spread from where he’d been gripped.