WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 143: Great Calamity 【Great Floo■ of the ■■■】 (9)
──────
It was raining in Sebeom Valley that day.
Middle Hamlet’s preparations were complete. That was why it was safe.
Upper Hamlet was not.
Complaints broke out everywhere.
“Why’s it only our hamlet that looks like this when the place down below is fine?!”
“They could’ve at least built some walls. What the hell have our elders been doing?”
Of course.
Compared to the rest of the Eight Provinces, they were not doing badly at all.
At that same time, the Three Southern Provinces and everything below them were becoming hell. Even in Han San’s previous life, Upper Hamlet had made it through the Great Flood of the Gap-sul Year without a single casualty.
But how would Upper Hamlet’s people know about the rest of the Eight Provinces, or the regressor’s timeline?
People only ever see their own house and the houses on either side. Here, the neighboring house was Middle Hamlet, spread out right below them.
“Tch. Old Woman Wangdae isn’t around either.”
“There’s a reason so many people have moved down to Middle Hamlet lately.”
Their disgruntled grumbling was only natural.
But as time passed and the rain grew fiercer, their complaints turned into confusion.
“Y-Young master! Young Master Cheol-min!”
Jin Ssi came running over, clutching his head as he pleaded.
“The dirt! Muddy water’s coming down from behind our house! What, what are we supposed to do...?”
“Calm down.”
Sixteen-year-old Shin Cheol-min had already put on his raincoat. He glanced toward the men’s quarters[1] before heading outside.
“There! Don’t block that ditch, open it up! Don’t stand under the eaves!
That storage shed! Don’t worry about what’s wet underneath! Just move what’s on top! Move anything you can, quickly!”
His instructions were precise.
That was because...
‘I learned it directly from San hyung before this flood.’
Cheol-min had always been good at anything after trying it just a few times.
“A-Ah! The ground suddenly got slippery...”
“My hands! They’re all blistered!”
The problem was that Upper Hamlet’s people had rarely even gotten their hands wet.
They had always shoved hard work onto Middle Hamlet. And since last August, when they could no longer exploit Middle Hamlet, they had pushed all of it onto hired hands.
Fortunately, those very hired hands more than filled the gap.
“Young Master Cheol-min, we’ve finished everything you ordered.”
“Thank you, Uncle Ju-bal. I’m sorry, but please help out at Uncle Jin Ssi’s place over there.”
“Yes.”
There was one more fortunate thing.
“Cheol-min! Tell us if there’s anything we can do to help!”
“Hm. Young Master Cheol-min, to be honest, I didn’t want to come. Upper Hamlet has become far too small a place to call my hometown anymore. But that big fellow San told me to help if there was anything I could do, so I came. You should be grateful.”
Han San had sent people ahead to help.
Im Baechil, who had been born in Upper Hamlet but was practically driven out to Middle Hamlet, arrived leading people alongside Deok-tae, whose house was still in Upper Hamlet but who practically lived in Middle Hamlet.
“...Yes. Thank you, Baechil hyung. Uncle Deok-tae.”
The sixteen-year-old oligarch lowered his head to the man he had mocked as an idiot until early last year, and to the estate manager he had dismissed as lowborn.
But Baechil and Deok-tae merely grinned. Neither brought up the past.
Baechil was simply gentle by nature, but in Deok-tae’s case, it was wholly Han San’s influence.
‘If I keep dwelling on trivial things and gnawing away at myself, I’ll never be able to keep up with that fellow’s enormous strides.’
Deok-tae shook off his thoughts and called out in his characteristically gentle voice.
“All right! Baechil, you big lump. Water isn’t meant to be blocked, it’s meant to be guided. Hold that stake over there and keep it steady!”
“Y-Yes! Elder Deok-tae!”
As Deok-tae’s family, who had managed Meokbawi Valley their whole lives, took up one side, Im Baechil gripped a stake in the mud.
Then Cho Seo-bang, vice chairman of the Meokbawi Valley Management Council, unfolded the tarps and rope he had brought from Middle Hamlet. Ju Ssi, who also practically lived in Middle Hamlet, had already arrived to help.
“Pulled it from the sajang’s warehouse. He said to use it freely.”
Once a basic structure was in place, Upper Hamlet’s flustered bookish gentlemen finally began functioning as laborers.
Before long, Upper Hamlet was patched up for the time being.
“Goodness! We barely made it.”
“Thank you, Young Master Cheol-min. And... ah, and Baechil... Elder Deok-tae, and Ju Ssi as well.”
Jin Ssi offered his thanks.
Mr. Baek, the blacksmith, also approached and bowed his head.
“Thank you, truly. To think we’d be receiving help like this.”
“A-Ah, Uncle. Please don’t do this. You helped me plenty when I lived here...”
Cheol-min watched Im Baechil awkwardly wave his hands with a small smile.
Only then did fatigue wash over him.
Leaving the cleanup to Mr. Baek, a fellow oligarch, Cheol-min stepped back.
“Uncle Ju-bal, Uncle Cheol-jun, please look after my mother and father.”
“Will you be all right alone, young master?”
“Yes. I’m going to rest for a little while.”
Cheol-min returned to the house where he was currently staying. It was the manor Yun Cheom-ji had lived in. He sat on the wooden veranda and took off his wet raincoat.
‘At least it’s fortunate the children are in Mogok.’
Hyeok, whom he had played with, and even the younger children. All the children of Upper Hamlet had been taken to Han-ga Academy by San hyung in spring.
Cheol-min himself had never been there, but it was a place San hyung had made. Everyone was surely safe and resting comfortably.
‘When I get the chance someday...’
That was when a cold presence passed over his spine.
Shin Cheol-min looked up with widened eyes, goosebumps rising on his skin. The door to the men’s quarters had silently opened. Someone was sitting on its veranda.
It was Yun Cheom-ji.
The man had shut himself inside the men’s quarters ever since last Chuseok. And now the master of the manor had emerged from that room, where only three meals a day had gone in and out.
His first thought was that Yun Cheom-ji had lost weight. The old man’s face, already refined, now had sharp bones showing through, and his white hair fell to the nape of his neck.
Blended with the rising rain mist, he looked every bit like an immortal[2].
Cheol-min suddenly understood why his mother was so beautiful.
He asked, “Why have you come out?”
Even as he asked, Cheol-min thought he already knew the answer. Yun Cheom-ji would get angry and ask if he was not allowed to come outside, saying this was still his house.
That was the kind of obvious person his maternal grandfather was.
But that answer did not come.
Yun Cheom-ji silently looked down at rainy Upper Hamlet. The mud-filled yards. The mounds of earth people had stopped. Muddy water flowing through the ditches, and people standing beside those waterways as they caught their breath.
His gaze lingered a little longer on Im Baechil’s face.
Cheol-min furrowed his brow.
“The wind is cold. You should go inside and rest...”
“There was a place where I should not have retreated, yet I did.”
Cheol-min froze.
“The rest of my life became nothing more than a defense of that step.”
Yun Cheom-ji was still looking at Upper Hamlet.
“It should not have been that way.”
Shin Cheol-min did not understand for a moment. Then his heart dropped.
The boy had never once heard his maternal grandfather say such words. Every sage’s saying, rebuke, and lesson that had ever left his mouth had been meant to shield himself and cut down others.
Yet that grandfather was saying it should not have been that way.
“Grandfather, why are you suddenly saying...”
At that moment, Shin Cheol-min’s mouth was covered.
“Mmph?!”
It was a wet palm. It smelled sourly of sweat and river water.
As the startled Cheol-min tried to struggle, someone pressed down hard on his collarbone from behind. In the fleeting glimpse that followed, he saw that person was dressed in white.
There were three such people inside the house. One held Cheol-min, one stood beside him, and the last stood beside Yun Cheom-ji.
“Yun Cheom-ji.”
The person beside Yun Cheom-ji spoke. A Murata hunting gun was in his hand.
“Old Woman Wangdae... said you’d understand immediately.”
“Yes.”
Yun Cheom-ji nodded.
He looked around once more. At Upper Hamlet. At the place his maternal grandson had defended so well against the remnants of the Water Tiger.
All that remained, Old Woman Wangdae was saying, was for them to take it over.
Yun Cheom-ji spoke.
“What about Father Cho?”
“What?”
The man holding the Murata hunting gun asked back. A fleeting expression crossed his face.
That was enough for Yun Cheom-ji to receive his answer.
“I see...”
Then Yun Cheom-ji turned to his maternal grandson.
“Cheol-min.”
With his mouth still covered, Shin Cheol-min glared at Yun Cheom-ji.
“Mmph!!”
Sparks flew from the sixteen-year-old boy’s eyes. He thought he understood the situation.
It was a trick!
All of it, every last bit of it, had been a trick!
His maternal grandfather, that obvious third-rate villain, had pretended to be weak and shut himself in the men’s quarters while secretly joining hands with people like these!
“Mmph! Mmph!”
The boy gritted his teeth. Tears welled in his eyes from rage and resentment.
Both emotions were directed more at himself than Yun Cheom-ji.
I just put him in the back room and called it done!
It should not have been that way!
He should have settled it properly last Chuseok. But he had retreated where he should not have, because he had wondered how he could do that to his own maternal grandfather. And now, in the end, this...
“You learn quickly.”
Yun Cheom-ji was smiling as he said it. That smile made Cheol-min’s heart burn hotter.
But then.
“That is not what I wanted to teach you.”
Yun Cheom-ji rose from the veranda and looked at his maternal grandson.
“I am not telling you never to retreat from a place where you should not retreat.”
Amid the sound of rain.
“You may retreat as much as you wish.”
His voice rang out clearer than any saying of the sages he had ever spoken.
“Just move forward by that much more.”
At the same time, Yun Cheom-ji moved.
Many things happened in an instant.
“Uh,” the man holding the Murata hunting gun said.
Tap!
The gun was already in Yun Cheom-ji’s hand.
Yun Cheom-ji leaped as though throwing himself forward.
Eulmi Year. When he had been fifteen, he had fought the regular army alongside a Righteous Army unit. Now, nearly forty years later, his body remembered those skills.
Bang!
The body of the man holding Shin Cheol-min shuddered. The smell of gunpowder mixed with blood, and the grip covering Cheol-min’s mouth slowly went slack.
Yun Cheom-ji turned the barrel toward the remaining two.
Bang!
But the Murata hunting gun was a single-shot weapon. Therefore, the second gunshot had not come from Yun Cheom-ji.
The man beside Cheol-min had a gun of his own.
Yun Cheom-ji’s shoulder burst apart, and he collapsed onto the veranda.
“Hey, if you fire a gun...!!”
“H-He shot first anyway, that old man did! So...!!”
The two men in white shouted in confusion. But before they could finish speaking, Upper Hamlet erupted into commotion.
“What was that sound?!”
“It came from Yun Cheom-ji’s house! Young master!”
“Cheol-min!!”
“Hey! You, who are you people?! Where did you come from?!”
The voices came from people who had just moments ago joined forces to defend Upper Hamlet.
The hired hands carrying shovels, Im Baechil holding a stake, Deok-tae standing there with his mouth agape, Jin Ssi, Ju Ssi, and even the Upper Hamlet bookish gentlemen who had done proper hard work for the first time today all came rushing over.
“F-Fuck!”
“The Great Magistrate... Old Woman Wangdae... ah, fuck, seriously!”
The men in white fled at once. Leaving the dead man behind. Charging through the rain.
Shin Cheol-min had no time to care.
Shin Cheol-min, the sixteen-year-old boy, ran to his fallen maternal grandfather and held him in his arms.
“Grandfather!!”
His shoulder, his grandfather’s shoulder, that thin shoulder. Blood, flesh, bone, that shoulder. It was raining, but Shin Cheol-min simply tried to press down on it with both hands. Ah, what should he do? He had never learned anything like this. San hyung had never taught him anything like this, anything like this.
“Cheol-min.”
Yun Cheom-ji spoke. His eyes faced the sky covered in rain clouds.
“I did not move forward. You... do not become like me. Fix it, and...”
“Grandfather.”
“Fix it... if you fix it, if you make a mistake, if you do wrong, then just...”
“Grandfather! Don’t speak! I, I’ll get someone, Grandfather!”
“Your mother... Ju-bal... Cheol-jun...”
Yun Cheom-ji’s hand fumbled until it found the back of his maternal grandson’s hand.
“Tell Baechil too... that I’m sorry... someday...”
Im Baechil, the first to run over the wall, stopped dead.
Yun Cheom-ji closed his eyes.
“Grandfather!!”
The boy’s voice called for him.
As he heard that voice rapidly fade away, Yun Cheom-ji remembered the time when he, too, had been a boy.
It had been Eulmi Year.
There had been many traitors disturbing the country that year. Someone had to step forward. So he did. He stepped forward and fought. He had firmly believed that was what a nobleman[3] ought to do.
No...
That was not the truth.
In truth, they had all been words his teacher had spoken... At the time, he had merely been a boy... He knew nothing... In his excitement, he had simply believed every word his teacher said was right...
Lowborn men and middle-class people[4] marched together in groups. Confucian scholars opened military manuals and debated tactics. Under that blue sky, fifteen-year-old Yun Seung-mun’s heart had raced with joy simply because he was there with all those people.
Among them, a thick-bearded man smiled and beckoned to him.
[ Goodness, we’ve got a proper young master here! You don’t know how to load gunpowder? Come on, I’ll teach you. I used to be a hunter, so I know this stuff inside out. ]
A thick hand held his white hand and measured the gunpowder.
Seung-mun had always been good at anything after trying it just a few times.
The fifteen-year-old boy was delighted when his hands, which had never even played in dirt, learned to handle gunpowder skillfully. And the thick-bearded man was even more delighted.
Several months passed.
[ Kim Baek-seon! Did you question why reinforcements had not been sent?! A lowborn hunter dares to humiliate noblemen and disrupt military discipline! ]
The Confucian scholars closed their military manuals and handed down their judgment. As the stern words of the sages echoed, the thick-bearded man was tied to a pillar. Since he was a criminal who had violated the proper order between superior and inferior, the young men of noble families carried out the sentence.
At that time, the fifteen-year-old young master placed his finger on the trigger and thought, This is not right.
He wanted to say it.
You cannot do this.
He wanted to step forward and say it to his teacher and senior fellow disciples.
We were people who rose up to make this world better.
That was what fifteen-year-old Seung-mun thought.
But he could not.
The boy lowered his head and took one step back.
He pulled the trigger.
The blue sky shattered at the sound of gunfire, and the words of the sages descending from an immeasurably high place stood before the boy who had retreated.
Forty years.
Then, suddenly.
Ah.
A sigh escaped the wrinkled old man’s mouth.
It was longing, a wish, and regret.
“Baek-seon hyung.”
Yun Cheom-ji closed his mouth. His head fell.
At last, everything grew quiet.
The boyhood left behind with that gunshot was covered by rain and fell asleep.
Footnotes:
[1] A sarangchae was the detached Korean household wing used by the male head of the family and male guests.
[2] Seonpung dogol, literally “immortal wind and Daoist bones,” is a classical expression for refined, otherworldly elegance.
[3] The yangban were Joseon Korea’s hereditary elite, traditionally associated with civil office, scholarship, and landholding.
[4] Jungin, literally “middle people,” were a hereditary intermediate class of technical specialists and clerks ranked below the yangban and above commoners.
Footnotes:
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
