Mudoo - Chapter 46

Kang Tae-shin laid the unconscious Seula down on his bed. Unlike last time, she wasn’t burning with fever or showing any sign of pain—but seeing her lying there as still as if she were dead made his heart sink.

He held a finger under her nose, checking several times to make sure she was still breathing, before quietly stepping out of the room.

“Is Yeo-ok all right?”

Gangnim was sitting cross-legged on the wooden veranda, a long smoking pipe clamped between his lips. He knew full well how much Tae-shin hated it when he actually lit it, so he just kept it there unlit.

“It’s not Yeo-ok… it’s not Yeo-ok…”

Dong-gil, who had been pacing and wringing his hands, glanced at Tae-shin before picking up the thread. He looked just as rattled as Tae-shin felt.

Tae-shin leaned back against the wall and rubbed his gaunt face. It had been a long time since Seula had reminded him of Yeo-ok. The more time passed, the more certain he’d become that the two were not the same person.

But the recent turn of events—crashing into his life like an accident—was impossible to ignore. When Seula told him she’d been having dreams of being Yeo-ok, his mind went blank. He’d lived all these years, only to feel like some ignorant fool who knew nothing.

He’d tried to brush it off, to go about his days pretending not to care. But seeing Seula faint right in front of Gangnim was something else entirely—it ate away at him.

“Those who have not reached enlightenment will remain trapped in samsara. Such is reincarnation, is it not?”

Gangnim murmured around the pipe stem, almost to himself.

Tae-shin let out a long sigh, the breath quivering faintly between his lips.

Watching him closely, Gangnim added, “But in all my years, I’ve never once seen someone born again with the exact same face as in their previous life. Not even a hair different. That’s a first.”

He gave a dry chuckle and bit down on his pipe again. Tae-shin just stared at him in silence.

Gangnim had been the death reaper who escorted Yeo-ok to the afterlife. The only three people who had known her back then were the ones gathered here now. So when one of them— Gangnim himself—spoke with certainty that Seula was Yeo-ok, it was hard not to be unsettled.

Dong-gil, curled up with his tail wrapped around him, asked nervously, “Is that even possible? Possible?”

“It all depends on the will of the dead,” Gangnim replied.

“She could just be a look-alike. Just a look-alike.”

“For a look-alike, the resemblance is far too perfect, wouldn’t you say?”

Tae-shin, who had been silently listening, finally spoke up.

“The will of the dead?”

Sensing Tae-shin’s sharpened mood, Gangnim turned his gaze away and answered.

“If someone had a desperate wish to meet a certain person again—even if it meant crossing eons—it’s not impossible.”

“…”

“I’m not a soul who’s reached enlightenment myself, so I don’t know every detail. But I do know there are far more things in the afterlife than we can comprehend.”

Silence fell again. If Gangnim was right, it meant that Yeo-ok, unable to let go of her past life, had been reborn with the same face.

“I’ll come back… I won’t leave you alone next time, Tae-shin. I’ll stay by your side… so you won’t be lonely.”

The words Yeo-ok had whispered, moments before her death, echoed in his ears. Her pale face, the strain in her voice—he remembered it vividly.

She had promised to come back to him. That was why he had stayed here all these years, never able to leave. He had believed, without a doubt, that someday Yeo-ok would find her way back to this house.

It was the only reason he’d been able to keep on living—half-dead as he was—without losing what little humanity he had left.

If Seula truly was Yeo-ok, then his wish had finally been fulfilled. So why couldn’t he feel at peace?

If she was Yeo-ok reborn… was she still Seula? Or was she someone else entirely? It wasn’t something he could decide on his own.

Noticing the tangled look on both Tae-shin’s and Dong-gil’s faces, Gangnim cleared his throat.

“If Yeo-ok has come back to your side, isn’t that a good thing? You should be throwing a feast, not sitting here like you’re at a funeral.”

Normally, Tae-shin would have told him to shut his mouth. But this time, he said nothing.

***

Her stomach churned, and her head throbbed as if it would split open. Trying to piece together what had happened before she fainted, Seula caught the sound of voices from the veranda. She sat up.

The moment she slid the door open, the voices stopped dead. Dong-gil, Tae-shin, and a man she didn’t recognize—all eyes turned to her. The stranger wore a worn hemp robe and a black gat, his breath calm and steady.

Blinking heavily, she looked from one familiar face to the next. When her eyes met the stranger’s, he spoke first.

“You’re awake?”

It was the man who had called her Yeo-ok.

“…Who are you?”

“I am Gangnim. My apologies for earlier. I mistook you for a woman I once knew, so alike to her you are.”

“You… know Yeo-ok too?”

“Yeo-ok—” Gangnim broke off with a cough, clearly scrambling. He was a terrible liar.

The three of them felt like co-conspirators, as if they were staging some elaborate prank show and she was the only one not in on it. Like in The Truman Show—everyone knew her story but her.

“You definitely called me Yeo-ok.”

“Well, that is to say… um…”

“Why are you up already? You should rest more.”

Gangnim floundered, and Tae-shin stood, coming over to her. He brushed the hair from her forehead and pressed his hand there again, checking her temperature with a tenderness that felt almost practiced.

Seula looked up at him. Even that gentle touch felt like part of an effort to pacify her—nothing more. In that moment, Tae-shin felt oddly distant.

“It’s still early. Go back and sleep.”

Led by his hand, she returned to the room. Tae-shin tucked her in, then lay down beside her, propping himself on one elbow.

Eyeing him warily, she flicked a glance at the door and asked.

“So why is he here in the middle of the night?”

“He’s a chasa—a reaper. Probably here to ask me for a job. He’s the kind who shows up at all hours without notice. You’ll just have to bear with it.”

“Well, it’s your house, so I guess it’s not my place to say… but still…”

The unease lingered. Gangnim’s startled face when he’d called her Yeo-ok kept flashing in her mind.

“How are you feeling? Any pain?” Tae-shin’s hand kept stroking her forehead and cheek, his eyes heavy with worry. It softened the edge of her suspicion a little.

“This is the first time I’ve ever fainted like that. It felt like… like my soul just slipped out of me.”

“Maybe your strength is worn down. I should get you some herbal medicine.”

“…That’s not it.”

All she’d been doing was half-hearted job hunting—hardly enough to drain her energy. She gripped his hand tightly.

“When are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“About Yeo-ok.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes wavered ever so slightly.

“How much longer am I supposed to be the only one who doesn’t know?”

“…”

“You know why I keep seeing Yeo-ok in my dreams. You know why Gangnim called me by that name.”

His brows twitched faintly.

“And why do you think I know everything?” Tae-shin licked his lips, looking as if he were holding something back.

“For all I know, you might know more than I do.”

“…What?”

“No matter how long you live, you can’t claim to understand every truth of the world.”

“…”

“In fact, I should be the one asking—what exactly is it that you know?”

The arrow she’d fired at him had come right back at her. But no matter how she turned it over in her mind, Seula couldn’t think of anything she might know more than him. She couldn’t even tell what he meant.

The air between them grew taut, each watching the other warily until the fatigue became too much to bear.

Tae-shin was the one who broke the silence.

“You’ll find out about Yeo-ok soon enough, whether you want to or not.”

But he didn’t let go of his aim.

“Maybe you already know everything—just can’t remember it yet.”

He looked at her then, not like a man keeping secrets, but like someone who suspected he was the one being toyed with.