Mudoo - Chapter 53

Gangnim once told him that if you ate the fruit from the peach tree that bloomed in the heavens, even a dying person could be saved.

That tree, he said, existed in only one place on this earth — deep in the mountains at the edge of the capital, in a place called the Fairy Valley, where heavenly maidens were said to descend to bathe.

Kang Tae-shin ran straight into the mountains, heading for the place Gangnim had described. It was the same mountain the old man used to visit to pray to the spirits when he was alive. Tae-shin had once been the old man’s eyes and legs, guiding him on the paths when he could no longer see. That was why he knew these trails by heart.

“Fairy Valley… Fairy Valley…”

He kept his legs moving without pause, not giving himself a moment to catch his breath. The taste of iron filled his mouth, and his heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.

He passed the mountain shrine where the old man used to pray and pushed on deeper. It had been deserted for so long that the undergrowth had grown wild. Tae-shin shoved through weeds up to his waist, following the sound of rushing water.

“Haa…”

At last, he reached it — a breathtaking waterfall spilling into a small, crystal-clear pool.
Resting his hands on his knees, he caught his breath, scanning the area for the peach tree Gangnim had told him about.

But his vision wavered from exhaustion. His throat burned with every swallow, and sweat stung his eyes. He wiped his forehead, eyes, and face roughly with his sleeve. He had to focus. Time was running out. Before Gangnim took Yeo-ok’s soul away, he had to find that peach and feed it to her.

Tae-shin searched desperately around the valley. Finally, at the far edge, he saw it — a single tree heavy with plump, enticing fruit.

“…!”

He knew instantly — this was it.
The round fruit gleamed with a glossy sheen, so tempting it was impossible not to reach for it.

‘That fruit makes humans immortal — they’ll never die or grow old, but they’ll have to live forever. It might even be a cursed fruit.’

Gangnim’s warning echoed in his ears.

Even so, Tae-shin didn’t hesitate. He reached up and snapped one from the branch. Saving Yeo-ok was all that mattered.

***

When Tae-shin returned home, he was a mess. Scratches dotted his face, each beading with bl00d. His clothes were torn to shreds.

He ran through the gate into the small room of the inner quarters, Dong-gil barking furiously as he followed on his heels.

Gangnim was nowhere to be seen. Panic surged — had he already taken Yeo-ok’s soul? Tae-shin held a finger under her nose. A faint breath still lingered.

“Yeo-ok, Yeo-ok, wake up. I brought you the peach from the heavenly tree.”

He pulled the fruit from his sleeve and brought it to her lips. But she didn’t open her mouth — she couldn’t even lift her eyelids.

“No… no, no, please…”

A crushing pain twisted his chest, as if someone was wringing his heart in their hands. He pounded his fist against his left side, but the ache wouldn’t go away.

Taking a deep breath, Tae-shin bit into the peach. Sweet juice spread through his mouth. He chewed it thoroughly, then pressed his lips to her pale, dry ones, passing the pulp into her mouth.

“Swallow. Please, Yeo-ok…”

He did it again and again, until at last she coughed, spitting the pulp back out. Her half-lidded eyes flickered open, a spark of black within.

“Yeo-ok! You’re awake?”

She gave a faint nod, grasping his wrist.

“Tae… shin…”

Her voice was fragile, each syllable a struggle. Tae-shin held her close, lost on what to do. There was no one to call for help — no one nearby. He swallowed back his tears, listening to her weak words.

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

Tae-shin shook his head hard. No. No. You’re not going to die. Don’t say things like that. A thousand things crowded in his throat, but not a single word came out. He could only hold her tighter, silently begging her not to go.

But soon, he felt all strength drain from her small, frail body. Her eyes closed. Her hands fell limp. She was already gone.

He laid her gently on the blanket, wiping away the mess at the corner of her mouth.
It had all been useless — the so-called heavenly peach.

He hurled the half-eaten fruit out the open window. Dong-gil bolted after it into the yard, the crunch of his chewing echoing faintly, but Tae-shin couldn’t bring himself to care.

***

Seula woke with a gasp, her breath ragged.

Again. She had dreamt of being Yeo-ok again.

“Great. Now I’m even dreaming about her dying…”

She brushed the cold sweat from her face. She had left Cheonghae-dong long ago, yet she was still haunted by these dreams.

Her room was dotted with talismans from Cheonwol Manshin — over the window frame, above the door to the living room. Thanks to them, she could keep out the spirits that gathered at night. But her spiritual sight was still open, so whenever she left the house, she could see things she shouldn’t.

‘Just act like you can’t see, can’t hear, can’t feel anything. Same as before your spiritual eyes opened.’

That’s what Kang Tae-shin had once told her.

When her sight had first opened, it was the hardest thing in the world. But over time, she’d gotten used to seeing the dead, and ignoring them became easy.

Last night’s dream had been so vivid that she felt like she hadn’t slept at all. Her body was heavy and sore.

‘If you ever get too scared, come to me.’

His soft voice brushed her ear, aching in her chest today more than ever.

Dragging herself to the bathroom, she squeezed toothpaste onto her brush and shoved it into her mouth. She stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She really did look exactly like Yeo-ok. Sometimes, she wondered if she truly was Yeo-ok.

No. Don’t go there. Stop thinking nonsense.

She spat out the foam, rinsed her mouth, washed her face, and started getting ready for work.

There were so many things she had to turn away from — bonds she had to cut, a past life she couldn’t remember, spirits she couldn’t acknowledge.

If she kept busy enough, she could forget them all.

Still, there were nights when the silence in her apartment after work was unbearable. No matter how loud she turned the TV, no matter how much she busied herself, tears welled up.

They say you might not notice what you’ve gained, but you’ll always feel what you’ve lost. Her days with Tae-shin and Dong-gil felt like a dream now. The silly conversations by the fireplace, sharing meals at the same table, lying on the wooden floor in winter, sipping cocoa on the porch.

Just a dream. That’s all it was.

Seula shook her head, chasing the thoughts away.

***

After work, she checked her phone as she stepped outside.

[Sorry. I’m gonna be about 30 minutes late. Kill some time on your own for a bit.]

It was a message from Shin Haejun, who she’d planned to have dinner with.

She sighed and brushed her hair back. “Figures. Never on time.”

The air was hot and sticky, the breeze clinging to her skin. The sky was heavy, as if rain was on its way.

She was scanning the area for a way to kill time when—

“…Huh?”

A red tarpaulin tent caught her eye.

It was the same tarot stall she had stumbled into on the day of her interview here, while looking for a fish-shaped bread cart. She’d tried to find it a few times since starting work, but it had never been there — until now, half a year later.

Drawn to it, she stepped closer. The inside looked exactly the same as before. The soft scent of incense filled her nose, and behind a table stacked with worn tarot cards, an old woman sat waiting for customers.

When their eyes met, the woman’s gaze curved into a smile.

“Back again, miss.”