WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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Chapter 93: Chuseok in Sebeomgol (2)

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There was another reason the excitement had risen so high.

"Go, Hyeong-don-ssi!"

"Jun-ha hyung! I bet on Jun-ha hyung!"

There was a contest going on. Of course betting had to come with it.

"All right, bets are closing soon!"

Gomchi handled the stakes. As a core member of Pi Sun-dae House, he did it with practiced ease.

Han San had already laid down the law with a firm, [Keep it to small bets only.] The men of Middle Hamlet had received both their wages and generous Chuseok bonuses, so they could afford this much gambling.

Only one person sat crumpled up in a corner: So Seobang, [Target No. 0 of the Han Family Code]. The pitiful man had lost control of the household purse to his wife and now lived on dribs and drabs of pocket money, so nobody paid him any attention.

Still, even that pitiful man had a small slip of paper clenched tightly in one hand.

"Hold on to the lots you drew before the match! We'll draw the winners afterward!"

"Whoaaaaa!"

When Chuk Myeong-su shouted that, the crowd answered with equal excitement.

Click, flash! Hajama captured that scene too with his portable camera, marveling at it.

"Betting, I can understand, but prizes too? Han San, how did you think of that one?"

"Ah, it's nothing. I heard Americans get together every Thanksgiving, play bingo, and hand out prizes. Wouldn't it be nice if we did something like that too?"

There was something to watch, and a gambling table had opened. In the mind of the Han's Myriad Commerce sajang, who had lived through the future, prizes had to be part of it too.

Everyone's eyes swept over the prizes.

"Those prizes are something else!"

"Didn't the sajang put all that up out of his own pocket? Who called our sajang a boy general? He's a young wise king, a young wise king like no other!"

First prize, one foreleg.

Second prize, one hind leg.

Third prize, ribs divided into smaller portions so more people could take some home.

There was a grand prize too.

"Good heavens! Is that pork fat?"

"They say there's ten geun of it! Ten geun of fat trimmed that clean... whew..."

It was an era when cooking oil was precious.

It had been that way for a long time, even in the future Han San had lived in. Cooking oil becoming a standard holiday gift was a leftover from times like these.

Then the match was decided.

"Jun-ha wins!"

It came down to the final hind leg. The moment Chuk Hyeong-don's knife hesitated, Chuk Jun-ha's blade slid in and separated bone from meat in one clean stroke.

"Ha! I knew it! I knew Jun-ha-ssi was the true god of the knife!"

"I! I didn't know a thing!"

Joy and sorrow split between the winners and losers. The stakes had only been a few coppers, but when people were having fun, the size of the bet did not matter much.

"Next comes the prize draw!"

First prize, the foreleg, went to Shin Seo-bang's household. Second prize, the hind leg, went to Gomchi of Lower Hamlet.

So Seobang won the third-prize ribs. Half his mind thought that it was better than getting nothing, while the other half wondered whether he could use this to squeeze out a little more pocket money. His thoughts were a mess.

And the grand-prize pork fat went to...

"Congratulations, Baechil's mother!"

"Oh my."

Baechil's mother walked out smiling, her hands clasped behind her back. Envious sighs rose from all around the yard.

"Baechil's mother sure has good fortune!"

"That household won't have to worry about oil all winter!"

Baechil's mother accepted the grand-prize fat and bowed to Han San.

"Sajang-nim. Thank you."

Han San smiled and waved it off.

"Why thank me? I'm the one grateful for the kindness of you and your son working with us. I look forward to continuing together."

Im Baechil, who was setting up the ritual offering table nearby, broke into a broad smile. Baechil's mother smiled shyly and bowed once more.

Of course, Baechil's mother winning the grand-prize pork fat also meant the people of Sebeom Valley would have to hear the following all winter:

"Oh dear. This fat I won as the grand prize is so heavy. Is there anyone who can help me? To carry this fat that I won as the grand prize, um, back home. Oh, my hands are all greasy. Why could that be? Ah! Looking again, the fat I won as the grand prize is fat, so it has lots of grease, because it's fat..."

"M-Mother...! Please stop...!"

Han Man-seok, Grand Sajang of Han's Myriad Commerce, watched all that lively bustle with the corners of his mouth and his chin tipped slightly up. Then his eyes met Han San's.

Han Man-seok nodded once.

Han San grinned. The father and son did not find silence awkward, so that alone was enough.

With food and things to watch prepared for the Chuseok celebration, all that remained was something to play.

Spur-of-the-moment shows like the butchering contest, and the betting that came with them, were enough to entertain everyone. But Han San was not satisfied with just that.

"All right, come over if you're interested! Gomchi ajae, hand these out too!"

Han San had Pi Sun-dae bring in hwatu and mahjong, then tossed them to the villagers to play.

This part did not go quite as Han San had expected.

"Who's up for flower-card poker?"

"Ah, this mahjong thing is hard! I don't get it at all!"

Hwatu was simple enough that everyone eagerly played with it, but mahjong proved far less popular than expected.

'Then again, mahjong isn't exactly beginner-friendly...'

Starting with the hand types, then pung, chi, score calculations, and the mind games around discarded tiles that only became possible after learning all that.

How much could the people of Middle Hamlet, who had never even watched a game of mahjong, enjoy something that had a mountain of things to memorize? In the end, only a few quick learners and the people from Lower Hamlet who had spent time in town kept games going in earnest.

Something else became unexpectedly popular.

"Hey! I got a back-do!"

"Mo! It's mo! We've turned it around!"

Yutnori.

Several people could play, the games moved quickly, and the rules were simple. How could it not be popular? The yut sticks Han San and Han Man-seok had carved one night, when father and son were drinking together and got carried away, now flew through the yard.

The next thing was even more unexpected.

"Check!"

"Countercheck!"

It was janggi.

Han San had brought in baduk boards and stones too, and those had their own popularity. But everyone knew how long a game of baduk could take. Few people even knew how to play it properly.

Janggi, on the other hand?

Fast. Easy. Quick to play.

It was fun to give advice, and fun to watch.

Seeing janggi claim the throne among the games, Han San shouted at once.

"We're holding the Sebeom Valley Janggi King Tournament! Gomchi ajae, please handle registration and the betting table!"

"Got it, Sajang-nim!"

There were prizes too. Meat, rice cakes, and a janggi board with a full set of pieces.

"Ah, I've got to enter this!"

"That janggi board's mine!"

Consider it. In this era, what did a set of janggi pieces and a board mean in a slash-and-burn village?

It was like the [Famicom] just before Han San's regression.

That marvelous device of civilization where Teacher Han Bada controlled a mustached man who stomped on turtles, while three stalkers trailed behind a sharp-haired girl and killed monsters.

Either way, it was a world with little to do for fun. But if someone had a janggi board at home? Bored people would gather there under one excuse or another. It would become a Sebeom Valley landmark.

Its buzz was proven by Hajama the Second, the Japanese surveyor taking photos as he watched the Sebeom Valley Janggi King Tournament, taking an interest as well.

"This is fun. It has a different sort of logic from the shogi we play."

"Japanese shogi is fun too. The fact that you can place any piece you've captured back on the board is really something. When I first heard about it, I thought it was amazing."

"Each has its strengths and weaknesses. Being able to do komauchi, placing a captured piece back down, makes the board more complicated, doesn't it? That makes differences in skill show too absolutely... Ah, but Han San, I understand the janggi board and pieces. What's that chisel and ink stick attached to the set for?"

"Ah, those? Janggi pieces have legs, you see. While playing, you might lose a pawn or a guard here and there. Everyone here lives in the mountains, right? When that happens, they can carve one from a piece of wood and make a replacement themselves."

It was a kind of after-sales service, and Hajama the Second was even more impressed.

"Most people would never think that far ahead. Han San, I really think you're remarkable."

"When you do the work yourself, you learn where the problems lie. It's nothing that impressive."

Even as he said that, Han San puffed out his chest.

Then Gomchi shouted.

"First round of the Janggi King Tournament ends now! The odds have changed! We've got win bets for picking first place only, and exacta bets for picking both first and second, so keep that in mind!"

With the first round over, the betting money had gathered heavily around two frontrunners.

"Ha! I won again!"

One was Park Seo-bang.

"Park Seo-bang was that good at janggi? That man who always just nodded along whenever others talked, saying this and that?"

"I'm telling you, I knew right away Park Seo-bang was no ordinary man!"

It was janggi worthy of a master of agreeing with people. He did not use any set opening, but simply accepted every move his opponent made, right, right, just went along with it, went along with it, until he began tightening the net and the other side's general had nowhere left to go.

The other frontrunner was, surprisingly, a child.

"Our little brother's good!"

Han San shouted in delight. The people watching clicked their tongues in amazement.

"Isn't Bada only eight now? That young wise king's family has another child prodigy!"

"I'm telling you, I recognized that the Han family was a family of extraordinary men, then recognized it again, then once more, and now I've recognized it yet again!"

Han Bada was sweeping the board.

At first, everyone seemed to be going easy on him, saying, "Ah, how could we dare play seriously against the younger brother of Han's Myriad Commerce's sajang..." But after a few moves, everyone understood.

Han Bada was simply good.

"Hyung, I won again!"

Park Seo-bang, who had advanced like a storm, and Han Bada met in the final.

By then, the Chuseok sun stood high in the sky. Han Bada was excited for the Sebeom Valley Janggi King final that would soon begin.

He was running over to brag to his hyung when he heard voices beyond the wall.

"Who do you think will win?"

"Won't it be close? The sajang's little brother plays well."

The uncles who had newly come to their house a few months ago! They were hyung's subordinates!

He should brag to them too!

Just as Han Bada grew excited, he heard the voice of the uncle with the title of chief secretary.

"Still... would it really be good if the sajang's little brother won?"

Han Bada's foot stopped in midair.

Beyond the wall, the chief secretary continued.

"After all, the sajang's household is doing very well. This whole feast. The ritual offerings. Didn't the sajang bring all of it? And even if this Janggi King Tournament is only a contest held so everyone can have fun together, if the sajang's little brother wins this too... people may complain, [The Han family gets everything, even when it comes to playing], you know. Too much is as bad as too little."

"Ah, surely not? These village people couldn't be that shameless... No, well... based on what we've experienced so far, maybe a little... Um... no, surely not?"

"I think so too. I'm just saying."

That was when it happened.

"What are you talking about over there?"

It was his hyung's voice.

"Sajang..."

"So what? Were you going to tell Bada to let him win? Were you going to start teaching a child to watch other people's moods like that?"

"No... What I mean is, um. If it were you, Sajang, not your little brother, going into the final, you'd drag it out and lose by a hair, wouldn't you?"

"Probably? That'd be better in the long run."

"Because you're an adult..."

"Right. Adults are really that sly and ugly, when you get down to it. It's not cool at all."

A small laugh came over the wall.

"But you know, isn't the reason adults work hard so children can stay children longer?"

"That's..."

"If I can't let even my own little brother stay a child, what's the point of everything I'm doing right now? Isn't that right?"

"...I've been overthinking it, Sajang."

"Exactly. Jae-seok-ssi thinks too much, I keep telling you."

The mood loosened with those words. Teasing immediately followed.

"Chief Secretary was like that from the day he first joined Hyeongpyeongsa."

"He's improved, if anything. Every time something happened, he'd say, [If we take that action, these results can be expected], and so on. And it always sounded so plausible. We listened to him and ended up unable to do anything."

"Ah, Hong-cheol hyung! Myeong-su hyung! Stop bringing up the old days!"

Leaving that growing chatter behind, Han Bada quietly turned away.

Then came the Sebeom Valley Janggi King final.

It was a wild battle.

The master of agreeing with every move, then closing his net, faced an eight-year-old Han Bada who broke straight through it. A guard was taken at the cost of a chariot, and even when Park Seo-bang's horse invaded the palace, Han Bada did not miss the slightest opening. He found it, tore it apart, and split it wide open.

At last.

"Ah, I've been caught in a forced mate!"

The instant the match was decided and Park Seo-bang clutched his forehead, the groans and cheers of the spectators split Middle Hamlet in two.

Han Bada sprang to his feet and threw up his hands.

"Hyung! I won!"

"I saw it! Did everyone see that!? My little brother won! My little brother's the smartest person in the world, after all!"

Han San shouted excitedly.

"Hmph! And hyung is the coolest person in the world!"

Han Bada shouted back just as happily.

"This little...! Look at this little thing saying something so obvious!"

Han San smiled with his whole face, scooped Han Bada into his arms, and rolled around the yard with him.

For a long time. A very, very long time.

And that scene, click, flash! Once again, was preserved forever through Hajama the Second's portable camera.

Elsewhere.

Compared to the Han household's yard, where food, sights, and games had all come together and spun endlessly through the storm of space and time...

Upper Hamlet was simply bleak.

In the kitchen, Upper Hamlet's women cooked in silence, like they were doing labor. Before the Seonangdang shrine tree, Upper Hamlet's men arranged ritual offering tables.

Yun Cheom-ji flew into a rage.

"How can the preparations be this scant! The sun is already starting to set! We laid out twice as many ritual offerings as last year!"

That was the answer right there.

More ritual offerings meant more work.

Then what about the workers?

There were not even half as many as last year. Not a single person from Middle Hamlet or below had come up to help.

That was not all. There were people missing even from Upper Hamlet.

Ju Seo-bang was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Deok-tae. Most of all, his grandson Cheol-min was absent.

"Where in the world have these bastards gone!"

The people of Upper Hamlet looked at one another. Jin Ssi, who had been arranging the offering tables, answered nervously.

"Middle Hamlet..."

"What! Those, those bastards...!"

Yun Cheom-ji pressed a hand to his forehead. His teeth ground together.

"I'll go down and bring them back at once! Ju-bal! Cheol-jun! Bring every lowborn man in the household and follow me!"

Upper Hamlet's old strongman led the able-bodied men under his command down to Middle Hamlet.

Footnotes:

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