WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Oblivious

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◈ Murim in my Hometown ◈

Chapter 3: Pinwheel

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My hometown, Seochon, was as unremarkable as its name suggested.

The farmland was fairly extensive, but the soil was poor, so the harvests were meager.

There were no breathtaking sights worth going out of one’s way to see.

The nearby mountains were quite high and rugged, but they could not compare to the Five Great Mountains.

The stream winding through the village was too narrow and shallow for boats.

Looking back, it was almost strange that more than twenty households had gathered to live in such a barren place.

The hometown I returned to after only ten years had changed beyond recognition.

Even the road leading in from the main highway was different. The narrow mountain path had been widened enough for two carriages to pass each other.

The sight that greeted me at its end was just as unfamiliar and bewildering.

Tall buildings and pavilions, respectable shops lining the main road, streets crowded with passersby, escort-agency wagons, pleasure houses...

“A pleasure house? What is this...?”

I walked amid the passersby, looking around. I was so stunned that I rubbed my eyes and looked again.

No matter how many times I looked, it really was a pleasure house.

It was not yet evening, so no red lanterns had been hung, but the splendid eight-story pavilion was unmistakably the sort of pleasure house found only in major cities.

I stood there in a daze for a while before approaching a nearby stall.

“May I ask you something?”

“Ah, yes. What can I do for you?”

The shabby vendor, who looked to be around forty, quickly raised their head.

The vendor gave me a swift look from head to toe, then flinched at the sight of the sword at my waist and looked away.

“Is this Seochon?”

“That’s right.”

“Since when has this place been so prosperous?”

“Well... This is my third year here, but it was already like this when I arrived. I came because I heard it was a decent place to make a living, but...”

The other street vendors and shopkeepers I asked gave similar answers.

How could a remote village, from which even the nearest village with a physician was at least a two-day walk away, have changed so much? And in only ten years.

I would have been less surprised if the residents had been wiped out by flood or plague and the place had become ruins.

No matter how I looked at it, I could not believe it. It felt as if I were having some strange dream with my eyes wide open.

There was not a trace of the old hometown I knew.

Among the countless passersby buying, selling, and browsing goods, there was not a single familiar face.

Even if I met someone from home, I did not know whether I would recognize them. I had changed beyond recognition too.

The small boy who had lost his parents long ago and been dragged away from his hometown by a fake relative had returned as a martial artist reeking of blood.

I should have been the one returning home in glory, yet somehow it felt bitter that my hometown had become the successful one instead.

* * *

Fortunately, the mountains and stream were unchanged.

Once I left the bustling district, the scenery of my hometown gradually began to look familiar.

My feet naturally carried me toward Soso’s home.

With the village prospering this much, perhaps they were still doing well. Even if Soso had married into another village, her parents would still be here.

My heart swelled at the thought of seeing Uncle and Auntie again.

No matter how much I had changed, they would welcome me warmly.

Just as they had accepted me into their home without a moment’s hesitation after I lost my parents in the flood and became an orphan.

Even if Seochon was no longer the hometown I remembered, that alone would be enough.

My eager steps froze before a gate with one of its doors torn off.

Inside, weeds grew thick in the yard where they had once raised chickens.

The three-room house looked as though no human hand had touched it in a long time. It was broken in places and riddled with holes.

“Soso! Uncle! Auntie!”

No matter how loudly I called, only heavy silence answered.

I stood dazed before the abandoned house.

In all the countless nightmares I had suffered, I might have been soaked in blood, but Soso’s family had always been safe.

There had never been anything like this. Nothing like...

I stepped onto the stone doorstep and entered the house. With a pounding heart, I opened the room doors.

There were no corpses. No severed limbs, no traces of a bloody fight where the blood had dried.

It seemed I had been bracing myself to find Soso’s family dead. When I let out a breath, my shoulders sagged.

No usable belongings remained, not even bedding, clothes, pots, or bowls. They must have taken everything when they left. Or thieves had cleaned the place out.

Sunlight poured through the window where the wooden lattice and paper panes had fallen away.

Whoooosh.

Drawn by the refreshing sound, I turned and saw the bamboo grove on the mountain behind the house swaying in the wind.

As I blankly watched that nostalgic, familiar sight, something suddenly crossed my mind.

I entered the small room where I had stayed, opened the wardrobe, far smaller and more worn than I remembered, and reached up.

It was there.

The hair on my head stood on end, and my heart began to race.

I took out a small wooden box and wiped away the dust.

When I opened the lid, a piece of my memories, which had waited for me here ever since I left, came vividly back to life.

A pinwheel made from folded bamboo leaves, its blades held upright and pinned to a bamboo stick with a needle.

Soso had skillfully made it for me when we had all gone to gather bamboo shoots in the grove.

The distant memories of those days rose before my eyes as clearly as if they had happened yesterday.

When that scum of a fake relative dragged me away, I was too distraught to take it with me.

I had regretted and resented that for so long, but now I was glad I had left it behind. If I had taken it then, I would have lost or broken it long ago.

I held the pinwheel in my hand and blew on it with a soft puff. It spun a few times before one of the blades fell off.

“Oh.”

I hurriedly picked it up and carefully secured it back onto the bamboo stick. After looking at it for a long time, I placed the pinwheel back in its wooden box.

The hand clutching the box trembled.

Soso. Uncle. Auntie.

Why had they abandoned the house where their family had lived for generations? Had they turned their backs on their hometown, just as I had? Or...

I shook my head to cast aside my wild speculations and went outside. I left through the gate and ran down the road. I was in a hurry.

The people of my hometown would know what had happened to Soso’s family.

But when I sought out the homes of familiar villagers from memory, I did not find a single familiar face.

Soso’s family had not been the only ones to disappear from the village.

The homes of the other villagers had either been abandoned or occupied by unfamiliar outsiders who said they had moved in several years ago. There was not a single exception.

What had happened to the people who used to live there? Everyone shook their heads and said they did not know.

Only one resolute-looking elder vaguely remembered the circumstances.

“I heard that when there was an especially severe famine, everyone sold their homes and land and left...”

“A famine? Do you know where they went?”

“I don’t. It happened years before we moved here.”

“Who told you that?”

“The broker who introduced us to this house.”

“What was the broker’s name?”

“Who was it...”

The elder furrowed their brow and tilted their head, as though trying to recall it.

Yet their eyes kept darting toward the long saber at my waist.

They had started talking after finding someone to speak with for the first time in a while, but now seemed to worry that they might invite trouble.

I stared at them, waiting for an answer. Unable to withstand the silent pressure, the elder let out a long sigh as if conceding defeat.

“...Was it Yeon Jinwon, or Yeon Jinhyeon? Anyway, that’s what I heard. Go ask around the commercial street in the busy district. You should be able to find them.”

It was not unusual for an entire small village to vanish because of famine.

When I lost my parents in the flood, I would have had to wander as a beggar if Soso’s family had not taken me in.

It would not have been strange if such a disaster had swept over the whole village.

Our home, which had been destroyed in the flood, was now a ruined site covered in brush. The roof and walls had all been washed away, leaving only faint traces behind.

My parents had been swept away in a mudslide while carrying food from the storehouse.

Two days after the rain stopped, the villagers helped me recover their bodies and bury them on the mountain.

I had certainly put up a small wooden grave marker, but I could not find my parents’ grave.

Ten years was long enough for repeated floods to gradually change the terrain and for a wooden marker to rot away.

After wandering through a field of thick weeds that reached my waist, I gave up and sat down on a rock.

As I rested, wiping away sweat and drinking water, I sensed something in the distance.

I held my breath and focused.

Beneath the calls of mountain birds came a weak, regular vibration striking the ground. It was not an animal. It was the movement of people.

I slung my bundle over my shoulder and stealthily approached the source of the sound.

After crossing a wooded hill, I spotted a group of men gathered in the distance.

All five carried swords at their waists or on their backs, cackling with villainous expressions.

Thinking they might be bandits, I watched in silence. Through the men, I saw someone digging into the ground.

That young man’s expression differed from the others.

His face was pale, and he trembled as he continued digging. Whenever he paused even briefly, the other men threatened and mocked him viciously.

I had a good idea of what was happening.

They had dragged out a delinquent debtor to frighten him with the threat of burying him alive.

When I was at the gambling den, I had seen hopeless debtors dragged into the mountains like that a few times, forcibly encouraged to find the will to live.

I shook my head bitterly and was about to leave when I stopped.

It was not because pity or a sense of justice had stirred in me.

The face of the man digging looked somehow familiar.

The sword-bearing men were clearly outsiders, but that man seemed faintly familiar for some reason.

It had been a small village with barely more than twenty households.

If he truly was from my hometown, there was no way I would fail to recognize him. I stared intently, comparing him to my memories from ten years ago.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not remember who he was.

Since I did not feel particularly glad to see him, perhaps I was mistaken. He might simply resemble someone from my hometown.

I had no intention whatsoever of stepping into this mess and risking my life in a sword fight just to confirm who he was.

It was obvious they had brought him there to frighten him. Even if they killed and buried him, it had nothing to do with me.

I carefully concealed my presence and retreated the way I had come. I went down the mountain and returned to Soso’s home.

It was old and damaged in many places, but the roof and walls were intact. The pillars and beams were sturdy too.

If I repaired the broken doors and windows and cleaned it up, it would be enough for one person to live in. There was no need to repair the collapsed wall.

As I propped up the detached gate door, I noticed a faded scrap of cloth stuck to it. Wind and rain had torn it to shreds, but the writing was still readable.

‘This residence is the property of the Jeongun Trading Company. Unauthorized entry is prohibited. Those wishing to purchase it should inquire with the company.’

Had they really sold their home and left? I would find out soon enough.

I tore off the cloth, placed it inside my robes, and headed toward the busy district.

Avoiding the crowded center, I entered a quiet inn on the outskirts beside the farmland.

“Welcome!”

A young inn attendant ran out from the kitchen. I gave the interior a quick look from the entrance.

It was an awkward time for dinner, and only two tables in the wide inn were occupied.

Two men who looked like farmers sat near the kitchen. Three men who looked like thugs occupied the seats by the back door favored by martial artists.

I took a seat by the window overlooking the road, farthest from the back door.

I took off the long saber at the small of my back and leaned it against my chair. The inn attendant brought a teapot and cup.

“This village has changed a great deal.”

“Are you from here, sir?”

“I left when I was young. Were you born here?”

The inn attendant looked about fourteen or fifteen. If they were from the village, they would have been a snot-nosed child ten years ago, so perhaps I simply did not recognize them.

“No. I’m not sure where my hometown is, but I wasn’t born here. Would you like to order?”

“Do you have an empty room?”

“Of course. How long will you be staying?”

“About two days. Bring up some bathwater in the evening too.”

“Yes, sir. Will you be eating now?”

“A geun of boiled pork. Dumplings and stir-fried vegetables. As for alcohol... never mind.”

I set down two coins to tell the attendant not to tamper with my food. While wiping the table with a rag, the attendant deftly pocketed the money.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll bring your food right away.”

I quenched my thirst with cheap tea that had almost no aroma or flavor, watching through the window.

Unfamiliar faces drifted past among unfamiliar buildings.

Where had Soso gone?

I would look after I ate. The broker named Yeon Jinwon or Yeon Jinhyeon, and the Jeongun Trading Company...

“Hey, you there.”

There were two farmers in the inn, and no name had been called, but it was obvious whom the thug was trying to provoke.

Still holding my teacup, I turned my head.

One of the idiots seated by the back door was glaring at me with bloodshot eyes.

He had been stealing glances at me ever since I entered the inn. It seemed he had decided I looked like an easy target.

That was what men like them did.

They started drinking in inns in broad daylight, then picked fights with anyone who looked weak enough to squeeze a few coins out of.

I had not even spent a full day back in my hometown, and I was already getting tangled up with half-baked punks...

This was driving me mad.

How in the world had my hometown of Seochon become like this? A sigh escaped me.

Footnotes:

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