Mudoo - Chapter 49

By the time the sun rose, Seula, who had been pacing in front of the gate, had no choice but to return to her room. The gate was still locked tight, and no matter how hard she rattled it—like she might break it down—it didn’t budge.

She put the untouched tray of food outside her door, crawled back into bed, and pulled the blanket over her head.

They say when you want to deny reality, you escape into sleep. Turns out, that was true. When she opened her eyes again, it was already past noon.

“……”

In the middle of the room, another tray had been set out. Clear kimchi soup, fluffy white rice, neatly arranged side dishes—perilla leaves pickled in soy sauce that Tae-shin had made himself, among others.

For some reason, just looking at it made her chest ache.

The bond between people who share meals under the same roof—family—could be warm, but also frightening. For Seula, this was the first time she’d really had anything like that.
Sure, there had been other kids at the orphanage, but they were more like comrades in the same situation, not family.

Those perilla leaves—washed one by one, seasoned by hand, left to marinate until the flavor was just right. Every single dish had passed through Tae-shin’s hands before ending up here.

The thought of him preparing it all, bringing it all the way to her… it almost brought tears to her eyes. It made her want to forget everything he had done to her and just… melt.

But then—Yeo-ok.

The moment the name popped into her head, her appetite vanished. This wasn’t for her, Seula. Tae-shin had prepared all this for Yeo-ok—her past self.

Biting her lip hard, Seula turned her back to the tray and lay down again.

“If you don’t cut that bond, miss, your life is going to be full of hardship.”

The old fortune-teller’s voice from the tarot tent echoed in her ears.

“Remember this, miss! If you want to live like a human being, you have to cut that tie first! Steel your heart!”

Did that old woman know something? Her words kept replaying in Seula’s head. She should steel herself and cut it off.

She wanted to—if she could. But she was trapped in Tae-shin’s house, unable to leave, so even if she wanted to sever that tie, she couldn’t.

She’d paid five thousand won… couldn’t someone at least tell her how to get out of here?

The resentment in her chest just kept growing.

***

“How long are you going to leave Seula like that, hmm? How long?”

The breakfast he’d left her in the morning was still untouched.

With a deep sigh, Tae-shin began clearing away the now-cold food when Dong-gil, looking sulky, came hovering nearby.

“I’m doing my best.”

Tae-shin raised an eyebrow and answered coldly.

“She’s not eating, she’s not going outside—just sleeping. Just sleeping!”

“That’s not something I can control.”

“Why are you trying to keep her locked up here, huh? Why?”

Tae-shin scraped the rice into the food waste bag and turned on the faucet. The rush of water hit the sink with a loud splash.

He had no idea what words might reach her. Everything he could think to say felt like it wouldn’t make it to her heart.

“I’m not Yeo-ok.”

Those tearful words, spoken so firmly by Seula the night before, had been stuck in his mind ever since.

“I’m not Yeo-ok, and it’s so unfair to have to go through all this.”

The sponge in his hand pressed harder against the bowl. He couldn’t deny it—it had all started because of his longing for Yeo-ok.

Because Seula looked exactly like her. Because he’d wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was Yeo-ok. Because he’d hoped that if she was, she’d come back to him. That was why he had raised the Mudoo—the rite of invocation. But he could never say that out loud.

Though, it seemed like she already knew.

“She’s got nowhere to go if she leaves here.”

His reply to Dong-gil’s question came a beat late—and he realized it was just his own wishful thinking.

Seula could leave Cheonghae-dong and go back to her own home. She could find another job and get the ordinary life she’d always wanted.

But that wasn’t what Tae-shin wanted. He wanted her to stay by his side—helping with the occasional task of catching stray spirits, cooking meals, tending to the old hanok, taking walks with Dong-gil, maybe going on trips together sometimes…

Couldn’t that be a normal life for her, too?

“That’s all just your selfishness, isn’t it?”

These days, the cheeky mutt seemed to have a knack for hitting where it hurt. Tae-shin’s conscience was in tatters, and he found himself speechless more often than not.

“You’re just afraid that if Seula goes home, she’ll never come back to see us, aren’t you?”

“……”

“Afraid she’ll forget us completely.”

Dong-gil’s eyes began to glisten. When Tae-shin didn’t answer, the dog’s tail, which had been standing proudly, drooped low.

“I don’t want that either. But still, still—!”

Tae-shin finished washing the dishes in quick, sharp movements and turned off the tap.
The kitchen fell silent except for Dong-gil’s ragged breathing.

“But still what.”

Tae-shin bent down to meet Dong-gil’s gaze. The dog opened and closed his mouth several times before finally forcing the words out.

“Seula has the right to live the life she’s been given, doesn’t she?”

Dong-gil looked into Tae-shin’s eyes, which seemed to sink into shadow.

A pitiful man who had made himself immortal for Yeo-ok. A lonely man who still lost her in the end. A man who couldn’t leave this house because he believed her promise to return.

Maybe, right now, Tae-shin hated Yeo-ok more than anyone. He’d remembered and waited for a promise made centuries ago—only for the woman who made it to forget everything and resent him.

At the same time, Dong-gil could understand Seula too. She’d just been living her own life when suddenly this man barged in, claiming she was his lover from a past life. Who wouldn’t be bewildered?

He couldn’t take sides. This wasn’t about who was right or wrong. For a dog’s head and heart, it was far too complicated.

Tae-shin reached out and scratched under Dong-gil’s chin.

“If you weren’t Yeo-ok, would you have been able to live that normal life you wanted?”

“……”

“I’ve never regretted the choice I made back then. But right now… maybe I feel a little bitter.”

A faint, bitter smile touched his lips.

***

Time flowed on, indifferent. Even if you were torn apart by separation, crushed against an unscalable wall, or drowning in a mountain of troubles—time flowed equally for everyone. Evening came before he knew it.

Tae-shin, as always, carried a freshly prepared tray to the guest room. He slid the door open without knocking and set it down with a firm thunk.

“Isn’t it about time you ate?”

The edge in his tone was impossible to miss. It carried the unspoken meaning: That’s enough sulking. Stop with the tantrums.

The longer she stayed alone, the more her resentment toward him grew. She found herself thinking about how much he must have missed Yeo-ok—measuring it in her mind, giving meaning to every word he’d spoken, getting hurt by them, resolving to cut him off, plotting how to escape.

That was all she could think about in this room.

She knew how stupid and pointless it was, but she couldn’t stop. Being unable to leave the house had side effects.

Slowly, Seula pushed off the blanket and sat up. Without even glancing at Tae-shin, she went to the tray and picked up the spoon.

She couldn’t help it—she was hungry. If she wasn’t going to starve to death, eating was the only logical choice.

“Good thinking.”

He threw in the comment casually.

“I’m not eating for your sake, Tae-shin. So don’t get the wrong idea.”

“How long are you going to keep acting like this?”

She took a bite of soft tofu stew, and her jaw ached. It had been so long since she’d eaten that her mouth filled with saliva instantly.

“If I eat all this, will you open the gate?”

She knew it wouldn’t work, but she let a bit of her real intention slip. As expected, Tae-shin stayed silent.

“You said you’d open it if I behaved.”

“One meal hardly counts as ‘behaving.’”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

Her voice rose sharply, and her eyes burned red.