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1521

Field of Flowers

The wintry wind howled. The scene before him was carnage. He was bleeding from his shoulder, where the armour had been sliced. But as the saying goes, 'you should see the other guy', he did not pay any heed to his injury. He marched forward, removing the now useless covering off.

Defending the border forts in the Hamgyong Province from the invading Jurchens was not for the fainthearted. Having been orphaned since his birth, Kyungsoo found a blessing in disguise as a soldier. He had a roof above his head, meals (not necessarily hot, but a meal nonetheless), and a purpose. 

Reinforcements would arrive in two days’ time due to the harsh winter and the location of the attacks, but the fight could not wait. Peasants from the neighbouring villages have all fled their dwellings. They reported troops of invaders raiding their homes, confiscated their belongings, livestock and preserved harvest. Houses were burnt to the ground, forcing most of them to leave with just clothes on their backs. 

Blood splattered from where Kyungsoo’s sword made contact with the enemy. The lifeless head rolled on the hardened ground, leaving streams of the red liquid flowing from both body parts. The sickeningly metallic smell rose and trapped in the dry air, causing Kyungsoo to gag. It had not snowed last night, otherwise, the conditions could be much worse. He used his sword to balance himself and took a deep breath.

A sharp pain shot from his back. He shrieked in frustration and distress, promptly swaying his sword as he turned. The tip of his weapon almost reached between the eyes of the Jurchen boy who could not have been 12 years old. The boy’s hands trembled like a leaf while his blade clinked as it fell. Kyungsoo froze, eyes widened to the sight of the frightened teenager. 

In that split second of hesitation, he received another blow to the open wound on his dorsum. Kyungsoo’s body automatically rotated to face the attacker before his chest suffered a cut. The shock caused him to drop to his knees. His attacker took that opportunity to swing his blade at Kyungsoo’s neck to behead him. He reclined, however apparently not quick enough that the point still managed to slit him. The boy ran to the man to stop him from executing Kyungsoo. Small mercies, he thought. 

He dropped to his side, and he could see the man hastily grabbing the boy’s arm to flee. He brought his calloused hand to his chest where the fabric had been torn, and then to his neck. Kyungsoo had seen a lot of injuries on the battlefield and realised that the wounds to his chest and perhaps his back were not life-threatening. However the bleeding to his windpipe needed to be stopped preferably immediately. He closed his eyes, daring not to lay on his back or else he would choke from his blood.

He could sense the temperature dropping. He cracked open his eyes, and saw tiny snowflakes fall from the sky. He chuckled. His breathing turned to wheeze as he struggled to stay awake. He could no longer feel his legs and his visions began to darken.

In his semi-consciousness state, his ears picked up chirps of birds. They sounded melodic and out of place, considering the season. Up until recently, only caws from the flocks of crow that would scramble for a feast in the thick of the battle could be heard.

I’m dying, aren’t I? he wondered. The hand that grew numb from putting the pressure on the damage slipped. 

❀❀❀

“I didn’t foresee that, did you?” Baekhyun observed from afar. 

“Humans can still surprise us in many ways, Baekhyun. The story may have been written for them, but they can make a choice on how it would flow. But to answer you - no, I didn’t. I thought he was going to kill the boy,” Jongdae responded while keeping his sights on the said human. His red hair stayed still even with the strong gale. 

“This changes everything, Dae. He wasn’t supposed to die here, not today. Oh, that rhymes!” Baekhyun giggled amidst his frustration. 

“Anyway, the boy and his father were fated to die, so you can see how confused those drony grim reapers are. Look at them! And his mercy to the boy is a sacrifice. Urgh, I hate sacrifices! Can you imagine the paperwork for this?” Baekhyun complained. 

All sacrificial acts were to be rewarded with a wish. And in the case of untimely death as a result of a sacrifice, most (or perhaps all) humans choose to have their life spared. 

Baekhyun, as the God of longevity, would be the first to arrive, more than often in a foul mood. Jongdae on the other hand, sometimes accompanied Baekhyun to attend this wish-granting, for his own amusement.  Being the God of fortune, Jongdae’s presence was usually not required in such cases, but there were times they would ask for their family to be blessed with wealth in exchange for life. They thought by doing that, the family would be well-off compared to when they were alive. But the truth was, humans were naturally greedy. As soon as they found out their late father had a stash of gold to be inherited, brothers would fight against each other, mothers could even disown their children, and some were prepared to kill. 

“Now, now. You know I’d be happy to help you with that paperwork. Let’s find him and see what kind of wish he has,” Jongdae reached out to his friend. 

❀❀❀

He might be dead, but he felt more alive than ever. His feet were lighter, his body warmer, and his lungs emptier. Huh? Wait a minute, he thought. 

“I’m not breathing. How is this even possible?” He voiced his question to no one in particular. Not that he could see anyone anyway. He stood in the middle of a field with lush green grass and colourful flowers. It would have been more beautiful if he could smell them, however along with the absence of the ability to breathe, the sense of smell had similarly vanished. He sat down, plucking a red poppy delicately, and examined the petals.

“The purpose of breathing is not necessary here. You are technically dead, you know,” someone replied to his earlier question. Kyungsoo spun and found two men close to where he sat. He should have been surprised because not a second ago, he was alone. Instead, he observed them carefully. One was hugging his knees to his chest, his wavy red hair fell on his forehead, in contrast with his fair skin. The other lay on the grass while plucking the countless numbers of petals off a yellow flower. His unnaturally white hair spread around his head. It gave him a ghost-like appearance. However, for some strange reasons, Kyungsoo was not afraid. He also had never seen a young man with a head of white hair before, or red, for that matter.

“So is this heaven? There’s nothing heavenly without being able to enjoy this,” he inquired for clarification while pointing to the scenery around them.

“This is what we call the ‘waiting room’ because the queue to the next place is long. Until your number’s up, you will be here,” the one who hugged his knees turned and briefly explained, offering Kyungsoo a clearer view of his face. The shape of his mouth seemingly formed a permanent smile on his lips.

“If this is the ‘waiting room’, where’s everyone else? What are you guys anyway? Angels?” He questioned further. There was no denying that both of them were good-looking, otherworldly so. The one laying on the grass snorted. His wispy hair parted as he sat up. 

“The reason why you couldn’t see anyone else here is because the perception of this waiting room differs from one person to another. It wouldn’t matter anyway whether there are others or not. Also, angels rarely leave the office, and what they do best is submitting complaints to the higher-up,” despite the apparent disgust to angels, there was something angelic to the man’s voice. And as if the answer made sense to Kyungsoo, he did not prod any further. His mind was elsewhere.

“Excuse me, we are not done here.” A hand appeared in front of Kyungsoo’s face, and the fingers snapped to pull him out of the reverie. He grabbed onto them with fascination.

“How did you do that? Can you please teach me?” He asked the fair-haired.

“I will, but you have to listen to me first,” the man demanded. Kyungsoo relented. If there was a thing he particularly excelled at, it was listening to orders. Otherwise, he would not have been a good soldier.

“Okay, so we have a little situation with you. You were not supposed to die, at least not yet. But here you are, getting killed and there’s nothing I can do because I’m not in charge of time. In other words, you have sacrificed your life, and should you wish for it, I could restore yours, seeing I’m the head of the longevity department,” the explanation was even completed with exaggerated gestures.

“This is too much for me to understand. As far as I know, I didn’t sacrifice my life. I’m a soldier, and if you haven’t noticed, we tend to get killed,” Kyungsoo stated.

“But you shouldn’t have hesitated to kill the Jurchen boy. As a soldier, no matter the age, an enemy is an enemy. Kill, or be killed; those are your options. Your hesitation is the cause of your untimely death.” 

Kyungsoo flitted his gaze from the fair-haired to the smiley-faced as he tried to comprehend the circumstances. He had mentally dubbed them as Mr White and Mr Red.

“So you were saying that I’m not supposed to be here, and if I wished, you could return me to the living world?” He repeated the earlier information for confirmation. Mr White looked excited as he nodded his head, acknowledging Kyungsoo’s understanding.

“In that case, no thank you. My life is very bleak, to begin with. I can assure you that I don’t want to relive that life if that’s the offer. I’d prefer to be reincarnated,” he settled. Both of his audience displayed a combination of shocked and dismayed expressions. 

“Believe me, you don’t want to go that path,” Mr White scoffed. Kyungsoo frowned in confusion. The fair-haired man seemed to have taken a deep breath, only for Kyungsoo to remember that breathing is only an illusion here.

“Look, reincarnation takes time. You will have to get in line like everyone else. I can assist you to jump the queue but the angels in charge won’t like it. We will mess up with their system, not to mention the reports I’d have to submit later. And even after all those procedures, I cannot guarantee that you will be reincarnated as a human. You could be a cat or a tree. That department is being led by a whimsical god. Some days he will use the lottery, sometimes he will ask you to pick a card. The bottom line is, my option is the easiest, quickest, with guaranteed results,” he glibly reasoned.

“There must be something that you truly wish for in your life, regardless of how gloomy it had been,” Mr Red queried. Kyungsoo closed his eyes, imagining his (former) life, searching for something he longed for. When he finally opened them, the two men had crowded around him. 

“Well?” Mr White eagerly goaded. 

“I do have one regret. I never had the experience of love, or being in love, and I don’t think I have been loved before. So if I were to lament my short life, it was for lack of love.” 

❀❀❀

“If Yixing were to know you’re badmouthing him to a mortal, even when the human in question will not remember a thing about this place, he will surely kick your arse,” Jongdae shook his head with an amused smile. 

“Nah, he’s cool. Actually, I was the one who proposed the use of cards to him. Who knows how long he has been using that spin wheel,” Baekhyun winked.

“You know, I don’t see how you’re able to grant his wish for love. We need Luna as this is related to her department,” Jongdae reminded Baekhyun.

“But you see my dearest Jongdae, he needs to be alive in order to be in love, or be loved in return,” Baekhyun tapped his long finger on his temple. Jongdae had to hand it to Baekhyun. He had been handling these types of things longer than any other Gods. 

“Okay, I’ll accept that… but, is there anything you’re not telling me? Because I could see your sneaky little smile as you touched the lines on his palm,” Jongdae pushed for an answer. Baekhyun presented him with the same exact smile he wore before.

“Since he’s fixated on love, I may have bestowed upon him an abundance of life, that means regardless of the threat, none whatsoever shall cause even the slightest injury to him. Those who wish to inflict any harm on him shall meet with unimaginable obstacles,” Baekhyun returned.

“Then I hope you won’t be mad if I were to change a tiny bit of his fortune?” Jongdae implored.

“Be my guest,” Baekhyun permitted. Jongdae slowly approached Kyungsoo, who had been lying with his hands clasped on his chest. Right after Baekhyun traced the lifeline thus altering its course, the man fell into slumber. The body had to go through some major reset, where the state of one’s consciousness could not cope with the surge of new information passing through the system. During this time, new variables could be added, and Jongdae thought it was only fair for Kyungsoo to be given a parting gift. Because he might have taken a liking to the mortal. 

“Anything exciting?” Baekhyun pressed as Jongdae placed Kyungsoo’s hand back to his chest.

“I changed his location where he will restart his life, not as a soldier. And I granted him some fortune so he wouldn’t have to suffer in extreme poverty during this ‘abundance of life’ that you gifted him,” Jongdae answered.

“You are such a softie,” Baekhyun cooed as they disappeared into thin air. 

1521 ~ 1908

Forest of Scholars

Yi Hwang roused from sleep with his heart pounding in his chest. What could be the meaning of this dream, he wondered. At 21 years of age, he needed to consult his teachers, or specifically Master Nam Gon. Dawn had not broken hitherto, but he had no choice and barged into the living quarters of the head of Pochungsa Seowon. To his surprise, his teacher sat with several books opened in front of him, deep in thoughts and concentration. He also seemed to have waited for Yi Hwang.

“Come, my child. Have a seat and regulate your breathing. Judging from your expression, I daresay that you had a rather peculiar dream, did you not?” As expected from Master Nam Gon, Yi Hwang admitted. 

“As you said, Master. I dreamt of a red-crowned crane at the Hantan River even though this is past their migrating season. I have only seen one myself years ago, therefore I was able to recognise it. Such a majestic creature as if this bird is like a calling, beckoning us, or signaling something.” Yi Hwang described his dream. Nam Gon nodded in satisfaction.

“Indeed it was the same dream that we had. Make haste, Hwang. Gather some men and proceed to the river. The answer can only be found there, not in between these pages,” Nam Gon instructed. 

Although the two men he had asked were visibly confused, they did as told, and left to follow him after they had been suitably dressed. Some parts of the Hantan River were still frozen solid, as reported by local fishermen. Yi Hwang could not have imagined what they would find, but if he were to hazard a guess, it might not be a crane. 

By the time they arrived at the riverbank, the sun had begun its ascent. Yi Hwang requested them to look for anything that would have been out of order, regardless of whatever that was. They split to quicken the search. 

“My lord, here!” The middle-aged cook by the name of Do Hwi shouted. The other two men rushed to his location, eager to discover. Then they saw a man lying at the edge of the water, almost lifeless. 

Yi Hwang ran to his side and checked for any signs of life. The breathing was shallow and irregular, but he was alive nonetheless. All three of them took turns to carry him to the school ground and laid him in an empty room previously occupied by another staff member. 

As directed by Nam Gon, they began to inspect the man for damages or physical trauma. Apart from healed wounds and smooth scars, the man did not bear any fatal injuries. Yet, as pointed out by Nam Gon to Yi Hwang, the scars could very well mean that the man had been involved in some kind of a battle. The revelation baffled them as there had been no conflict in their province or neighbouring provinces. They came to an assumption that since the Hantan River flowed from the north, it was possible that the man could have been from northern provinces. 

For the next three days, the man stayed unconscious but if the rapid movements under his closed eyelids could be of any indication, he might wake up at any time. Between his classes, Yi Hwang made it a habit to visit and to assist with cleaning the acupuncture needles. On the fourth day, during his morning exercise, Do Hwi called for him. Apparently, the man had not only woken up but also walked to the kitchen to ask for some water.

When he stepped into the room, Master Nam Gon was already there, asking some basic questions after examining the man’s vitals. 

“Do you have a name?”

“Yes, I do. My name is Kyungsoo,” he reacted. Surprisingly, he had a deep voice.

“What’s your family’s name?” Nam Gon followed up. The man grew quiet. He looked around as if trying to find some clues as he panicked. 

“I don’t know, my lord. I can’t even remember my full name!” he exclaimed.

“It’s okay, Kyungsoo. I’m sure it will come back to you soon. I suspect that you may have been in some kind of situation that is hindering your mind to remember certain things.” Nam Gon tried to justify. Kyungsoo remained pensive. The old man sensed his predicament.

“In the meantime, please allow us to take care of you until you regain your strength and memories,” he suggested before leaving the room, motioning for Yi Hwang to follow him. Kyungsoo nodded weakly to take up the offer. 

🌳🌳🌳

Kyungsoo stared at the food in front of him. The man who placed the tray had introduced himself as Do Hwi. 

“Where exactly are we in Joseon?” He wondered with curiosity, hoping maybe the name could trigger something.

“We are in Gangwon Province, and the county’s name is Cheorwon,” the older man articulated the names slowly and clearly. Kyungsoo wanted the names to mean something to him but drew a blank. He sighed. 

“Please don’t sigh in front of food, young man! Now, help yourself with the meal. It’s nothing much, I’m afraid. Considering how bad the winter is now, we need to be mindful of our usage of resources. But please do not think that you are a burden to the seowon, because up until very recently we had a man who worked here, and he suddenly declared that he would become a monk. Oh, I’m sorry! Master Nam Gon has specifically notified us not to bore you with useless chatter, and you should concentrate on recuperating. You can leave the tray outside when you finish,” Do Hwi left abruptly thereafter. 

Truthfully, Kyungsoo would not mind the chatter. He wanted to know more about this place, and the people who had rescued him. But at that moment, the aroma of grilled fish, some pickled radish, steaming soup, and rice caught his attention. He could not explain the tears streaming down his face as he consumed his lunch. It was as if those were his very first proper and/or hot meals in years.

After more or less a week of mild exercise as guided by either Nam Gon or his disciples, Kyungsoo could walk without aid within the compound of the school. One particular afternoon, as the climate was growing warmer, he found himself sitting on a bench beneath a plum blossom tree that oversaw the main hall. 

“Hello, I hope I’m not interrupting,” a voice startled Kyungsoo from his thoughts. He found a young trainee scholar standing not far from the tree. He immediately stood and bowed his head. 

“No, you are not interrupting at all, my lord. I was just admiring the view of the forthcoming spring,” Kyungsoo smiled earnestly. He came to know that the trainee, Yi Hwang, led the search and was among the first to find him. In a way, Kyungsoo owed this person his life. They both sat on the smooth rocks under the tree that had begun to sprout its flowers. The sign of plum blossoms blooming represents the start of the change of seasons from winter to spring.

“Have you remembered anything after our last talk?”

“Unfortunately not, my lord. But the other day when I was helping Mr Do Hwi in the kitchen, he inquired if I could picture my parents. I couldn’t. Not only because I can’t remember them, but somehow in the back of my mind, I know they’re no longer in this world. Although I must say that I didn’t feel sad because I also knew that they have been gone since I was very young. I couldn’t explain how I understood it. It’s the same as I know of common knowledge, for example, the name of the flowers waiting to bloom in the courtyard, the preserved vegetables we kept at the storage, the simple and yet delicious meals Mr Do is cooking right now. Someone must have taught me, but I lost that piece of memory.” Kyungsoo shared while keeping his gaze on his lap. 

He felt Yi Hwang’s hand patting the back of his shoulder, as a form of an understanding.

“Is the nature of your abode now a common knowledge too?” Yi Hwang queried. Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I can grasp that this is a school because you have so many lessons in a day. But other than that, I don’t really know the details. Will you be kind enough to tell me?” he requested in eagerness. 

“You are mostly correct. To be precise, this is a seowon, or a preparatory school for those aiming to sit for the national civil service examinations. We have already established quite a number of seowon by other Sarim scholars throughout the country. Here we have lessons on the ideologies and principles of Confucianism, such as moral, ethical, and philosophy. We are also being trained in poetry, literature, calligraphy, you name it.” Yi Hwang elaborated, his face glowed with pride.

“You will undoubtedly be a respectable government official, my lord.” Kyungsoo praised the young man. Yi Hwang blushed and laughed nervously.

“I still have a long way to go, Kyungsoo. My intention is that within the next year I will go to the capital, Hanseong. There, I will attend the national academy before I can take the exams. If I’m being honest with you, I don’t know how long it will take. But eventually, I’ll get there, won’t I?” He jokingly added.

“Most definitely! I have only been here not for a month, but I only hear good things about you from everyone I met. And how lucky I was to have been saved by you,” Kyungsoo guaranteed. Yi Hwang grinned, shook his head in disbelief, and mouthed “You didn’t mean that” in-between.

“I have a question though. What is Sarim?”

“It carried the meaning of ‘forest of scholars’,” Yi Hwang clarified. 

🌳🌳🌳

True to his words, Yi Hwang went to Hanseong (albeit later than planned) and enrolled in the national academy. Kyungsoo fell into a life of routine as a general domestic helper in the seowon. Nam Gon had offered the post, along with the assurance that if and when Kyungsoo managed to gain his memories, he would be free to leave. Do Hwi and his wife had also expressed their wish to adopt Kyungsoo, and so for the first time in his life, he had a family name.

He learnt the basics of repair, roofing, farming, gardening, cooking (along with several family recipes from his adoptive parents), and excelled in every single one of them. Nam Gom had also personally taught Kyungsoo to read, write, and in time, he was able to hold discussions on philosophy and poetry with the seowon’s master when he requested for his supper.

Towards the fifth year that he had been living his life in the Pochungsa Seowon, Nam Gon noticed something odd about Kyungsoo. While everyone else’s physical features weathered with time, Kyungsoo’s body clock seemed to have stopped ticking. He looked exactly the same as the day they found him near the Hantan River. And maybe because he was healthier with a livelier complexion than of the pale and confused man in his early days there, Nam Gon could have sworn Kyungsoo might have appeared younger.

He guessed that Kyungsoo was in his mid to late twenties then, in which case he was supposed to be in his early thirties now. However, he could pose as one of the students with ease. Nam Gon chose to continue to observe and take note of the condition in his journal, perhaps his old eyes played tricks on him and there was nothing bizarre about the man he grew fond of. 

🌳🌳🌳

“My son, you know too well that I am on borrowed time…” Do Hwi let go of a chesty cough, and wiped his mouth with the cloth Kyungsoo had previously used for wet compress. Kyungsoo helped him to sit up as he struggled with his bearings after the fall last year that left him limp. He took shallow and ragged breaths.

“Your mother thought that you are our miracle, and I hate to agree with her but she was right. On her dying bed, your mother coerced me to protect you. Only years later I fully understood what she meant,” he persisted. Kyungsoo could sense where this conversation was heading. It was the same thing that had been bugging him.

“Father, please save your energy. Unnecessary worry will not do you any good,” Kyungsoo persuaded. The man he had dubbed as his father, in fact, the only father figure he had known in the last 15 years, smiled fondly at him.

“Parents will always worry about their children. It’s what we do best,” he chuckled, followed by another violent cough. Kyungsoo rubbed his back, which seemed to ease the intensity for a bit.

“I’m not sure how you will perceive this, but tomorrow, first thing in the morning, please see Master Nam Gon. Please promise me, son.” 

“I promise,” Kyungsoo held his hand to assure him. Throughout the night, Kyungsoo kept an eye on his ailing father, occasionally rinsed the cloth, and placed it on his forehead in an attempt to reduce the fever. By the time he began the preparation for the school’s breakfast with the help of a young assistant, the old man was still asleep. 

Just before he went to see Master Nam Gon, he tasked the boy to check on the condition of his father from time to time and informed of his whereabouts for the next hour. As he walked the seowon’s compound, he could imagine the point of discussion. How could he explain to the most intelligent, distinguished scholar of his condition? What is he anyway, surely not a normal human being?

“Kyungsoo my child, come sit.” Nam Gon invited him as soon as Kyungsoo entered the library. He carefully laid the book he was reading on the table as Kyungsoo sat.

“Good morning Master. I hope you are well?” Kyungsoo prefaced him with greetings.

“Good morning to you too. I am well, despite being eighty years old. Which is something I’m truly grateful for. How is your father?”

“He has been faring very poorly these days,” Kyungsoo cast his gaze downwards, not able to meet Nam Gon’s eyes. Nam Gon’s fingers reached his grey whiskers, a habit he developed if he was about to discuss difficult topics that might be sensitive to others.

“I’m sure you are here on your father’s orders because he and I have spent years observing you. Now, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, Kyungsoo. Both of us care about you deeply. As you realise yourself, age has seemed to escape you. As questionable as the way we found you, I personally think it wouldn’t have been such a surprise if you came as an anomaly. Both Yi Hwang and I dreamt of a red-crowned crane the night before you were found. Do you know what red-crowned cranes symbolise?” Nam Gon implored after selecting his words to address the subject.

“They are the symbol of longevity,” Kyungsoo remarked. Like puzzle pieces started to form a picture, he was finally able to put a name to his condition.

“Indeed they are. They also meant luck and loyalty.” Nam Gon added. Kyungsoo audibly gasped. He always thought it was pure luck or coincidence that he was unaffected when a plague hit the province, with a high number of fatalities that included his mother. He never questioned how he (along with the provisions meant for the seowon, and two of seowon staff) managed to escape a notorious group of bandits when others were robbed and killed. 

“As evidence mounting, I could come to the conclusion that you, my dear Kyungsoo, are no ordinary man. I will tell you this too, that we, Sarim scholars, will protect you and your identity. You will be our closely guarded secret. However, in order for this to happen, you could not stay in one seowon for more than 20 years. Or else questions will be raised by those unaware of your condition.” Nam Gon laid out the outline. Kyungsoo kept mum as information flowed to his brain.

“I have written a decree to the head of the Dosang Seodang in Andong. Seodang is a type of small school, not quite the level of a seowon yet, but at least the man in charge there is our mutual friend, Yi Hwang. He is expecting you at any time now when other arrangements have been made.” At the mention of Yi Hwang’s name, Kyungsoo raised his head which bore an expression of relief. 

“Subsequent instructions are also included, until such a time when we weren't equipped to provide for you. It is my personal hope that at that time if it were to befall, we could entrust descendants of Sarim with this mission.”

“But Master, I cannot help but feel like a burden to Sarim. This is beyond the faction’s nature of existence,” he tried to protest to mask his shame at being dependent on the scholars. 

“Nonsense! I don’t mean to alarm you, child, but have you thought of what a simple man, or better still, our own King would do if they learn about you? You will be the subject of envy, fascination, and experiment. Which is why I think you came to us,” Nam Gon deduced.

🌳🌳🌳

And so it began for him. The journeys and experiences each seowon had provided him for close to 400 years. However, at the turn of the new century, Sarim scholars’ influence and power started to decline, with only a handful of seowon still standing. The Donghak Rebellion in 1894 had also played a crucial factor that forced Kyungsoo into exile with other Sarim scholars. 

Little did he know that his life would change yet again in 1909 by meeting a man named Park Jungwoo.

1909 ~ 2019

Flow of Time

They said that change was inevitable. Kyungsoo agreed wholeheartedly. The Sarim faction by the late 1800s was dominated by Silhak scholars whose purposes were to reform Korean society with industralisation, and the introduction of foreign technology. A much-needed change indeed. 

In spite of that, the arrangements as planned by Nam Gon had not been changed at all. Under a very strict need-to-know basis, the details and instructions were only given to masters of each seowon. Kyungsoo had travelled up north, but never too far down south as those areas were prone to internal and external conflicts.

As kings passed their thrones to their heir, their policies and views towards the education system in general, and scholars in particular, came under scrutiny. The politicians, mostly headed by greedy clans, did not want their influence to falter. However as more and more seowon opened their doors for students not from yangban families to enrol, some interpreted this as a threat. Therefore they took the easiest solution by purging the factions that governed these seowon and effectively closing many schools in the process.

Although, as Kyungsoo would stress at anyone who would listen to him, not all yangban, or members of the aristocratic families were bad people.

In 1909, he was sent to Sosu Seowon in Yeongju, North Gyeongsang Province. It was in the middle of nowhere, but to Kyungsoo, it was his haven. He had been under the tutelage of Park Jiwoo, a rather young master at the oldest known seowon, at the age of 49. Like most scholars who chose the life of education and philosophy rather than seeking official positions, Jiwoo was no stranger to the life of a seonbi. In fact, one of his ancestors was a well-known seonbi, foregoing any involvement in government affairs in favour of studies and contributing to the public.

One morning, Jiwoo summoned Kyungsoo to introduce him to his then 21-year-old son, Park Jungwoo. He was a tall, bright-eyed young man, who had a habit of thinking a tad too long before opening his mouth, much to his father’s annoyance.

“Jungwoo, you said something about records to me last night, and I want you to please explain the rest to Kyungsoo,” his father instructed. One thing about Park Jiwoo was that he was the forgetful type, especially on social norms. He might have talked about Kyungsoo with his son, but he had not formally introduced them both. Kyungsoo smiled at Jungwoo, trying to ease the discomfort.

“I’ll be in your care, my lord. Kindly fill me in on the details, and please don’t sugarcoat anything. I’m well aware that my time disguised as a scholar will end very soon,” Kyungsoo started. Jungwoo seemed to have released a sigh of relief upon hearing the assuring words from him.

“Forgive me, my lord--”

“Please, no need to address me highly, just use my name,” Kyungsoo cut the poor boy’s apologies. Jungwoo turned to his father, who answered with a gesture for him to carry on.

“Very well then, Kyungsoo,” Jungwoo cleared his throat, taking a deep breath and exhaled slowly. At that point, Jiwoo drummed his impatient fingers on the sleeve of his hanbok.

“I hope my father has told you that from now on, our clan will take over the responsibilities of protecting you and your identity?” He asked, unknowingly pressed the wrong button off his father’s facial expression. The older man’s eyes bulged at his son’s accusation. Kyungsoo nearly giggled. The apple had not fallen far from the tree, he mused while remembering the same mannerism of both men’s forefathers - Park Jiwon, a man who struggled with such a strong personality despite being kind-hearted.

“I can confirm that I have been briefed about the situation because the school and the faction could no longer guarantee their existence or position. Master Jiwoo also informed me that I will be adopted by the Chungju Park clan while maintaining my family name,” Kyungsoo offered the extent of the information relayed to him. Jungwoo nodded repeatedly with his eyes closed, all the while ignoring his testy father.

“What my father and I have discussed before was the rapid advancement of records-keeping. For now, it is relatively easy for us to arrange your identification papers. While I couldn’t possibly imagine what it would be in the future, I foresee that details of birth and death will be kept, where it requires you to contemplate your identities very carefully. For now, you are known as Do Kyungsoo, born in 1884. Which makes you 25 years of age.” Jungwoo stopped to take a sip of water.

“Normally you will spend up to 20 years in a seowon, before being transferred to another. But we are in difficult times, uncertain of whether Sosu will stand its ground. My prediction? 10 years, 15 years at the most. We had to convince the Governor to delay, with excuses such as transferring the books to Hanseong, or making the coming year’s enrollment as our last batch. Hence by the time the last students finish their education within 7 to 10 years, the remaining staff will concentrate on the closure after that,” he continued. Kyungsoo listened very carefully. 

“If we take my prediction into account, you would have to use your next identity earlier than anticipated. We also had to change your name, to avoid any suspicions,” Jungwoo smiled rather mischievously before adding, “But I was thinking of using a variation of names that ended with ‘Soo’. And to substantiate this, we registered your subsequent ‘birth’ in 1895 as Do Seungsoo, so by the time you leave this seowon, you will use your new name.”

“I see. If that’s the case, each time I will have two identities, one as an adult and another as a child. Will I have any say on the names though?” Kyungsoo questioned.

“Of course! For now, I have drafted a table of registration which my father will share with you. It will show you which year we should report your birth,” Jungwoo acknowledged quickly, but used a small voice in his following response, “and your death too.”

An awkward silence ensued as all three of them digested the scheme. Master Jiwoo slammed his palm on the table, practically sending his son flying with the shock. 

“It’s decided then! I will entrust you with Jungwoo, and he too shall pass this onto his firstborn son, and so on and so forth. They will become your nephew, your brother, your friend, your father, and your grandfather. And you will become uri durumi ,” Jiwoo concluded, almost choking when he uttered ‘uri durumi’ or ‘our crane’ as Kyungsoo had been referred to in the journals of the previous seowon masters starting from Yi Hwang over 360 years ago.

During his studies in Sosu seowon, Park Jungwoo had conveyed his own future endeavours to his father of neither becoming a seonbi, nor a government official, and he had no inclination to be a teacher. He wanted to be a doctor. Although Jiwoo had been a seonbi, and by rights, their family status as a yangban or gentry might not possess strong influence, the Chungju Park clan still held considerable ascendancy. Hence, the family sent Jungwoo to Japan to study medicine, while Kyungsoo remained in Joseon.

When Jungwoo returned to Hanseong, and finally opened his practice in 1919, Kyungsoo and Jiwoo were still in the seowon, teaching the last batch of students. The school officially closed its doors in 1920, and the arrangements to transfer records, books, and journals to the royal academy in the capital commenced thereafter. The following year, at the age of 61, Park Jiwoo died. When the closure had been finalised in 1923, Kyungsoo traveled northwest to Hanseong to begin his life as Do Seungsoo.

For the succeeding 50 years, with two generations of doctors in the family, Park Jungwoo and his son, Park Seungcheol, along with another change of name to Do Hyunsoo, he experienced life unlike his days as a scholar. Social statuses changed with no requirements to address anyone of higher status with ‘my lord’. However, since both Jungwoo and Seungcheol were doctors, it was easier to call them as such in public. He assisted them in the clinic, lived with them as part of the family, and witnessed their weddings, birth, and the growth of their children. That was probably why Jungwoo’s death in 1948 took a toll on him as if he had lost an important family member. Jungwoo was his first custodian who treated him as an equal and advised his family to follow suit. 

In 1950 when the Korean War broke, Seungcheol volunteered as a field doctor with Kyungsoo on his side. He considered this as a bold move by the Parks, if Kyungsoo was being honest, because the possibility of exposure was higher, seeing that they will be involved with the military. However, the situation at that time did not permit Seungcheol to further think of the consequences. 

“We will deal with it when the time comes, Soo. Right now, our country needs us. If I could, I would have hidden you somewhere. But don’t you worry, we have eyes and ears in the military. As soon as anyone asks questions about you, I will arrange for your safety there and then,” Seungcheol assured him. 

“Let’s just concentrate on giving the best medical service we could. I’m sure my luck has still not run out. But like you said, we’ll cross the bridge when we get there,” he returned with a smile. At that time, Seungcheol’s son, Sungheon was a teenager and he had talks with his father about their inherited roles. Surprisingly, just when everyone thought that he would choose the path of a doctor like his father and late grandfather, Sungheon did not favour science at all. He was keen on studying history and wanted to restore historical sites and buildings to their former glory.

The timing could not have been more perfect, as in the mid-’50’s after serving as a medical assistant to Seungcheol in the Korean War, some high-ranking military personnel had expressed interest in Kyungsoo. For the next four years, he went abroad for the first time in his life, accompanying Sungheon, and also enrolled in the same university. 

Due to the fact that Seungcheol was a medical practitioner, the process to register his birth had been somewhat seamless. Nonetheless, they also realised that finding allies in different parts of the various government agencies was equally important. Kyungsoo was able to escape death, however, he surely could not escape taxes.

In the early 1970s after Seungcheol closed his clinic to retire, preparations had been made for Kyungsoo (who was then known as Do Jungsoo) to pose as a postgraduate student and teaching assistant to Park Sungheon, who by then had become the Head of Korean History Department at the Korea University. They moved to Gyeonggi where both of them were heavily involved in the restoration of historical monuments and national treasures, including the Hwaseong Fortress. As someone who had been living for over 400 years, he would like to imagine that he witnessed the buildings he assisted to restore in their original forms in the past, and again - in some extreme cases; reconstructed them in the future. 

It made him think of how he had been molded before as a scholar, then onto the medical field, and later as a historian, and all the identities he had assumed; they became one man. A man who had lived for too long, being reborn on paper with different names and professions, but always somewhat fearful to form any kind of relationship and attachment with other people than with the Parks. 

If anything, the Parks had never forced any positions for him to take. They discussed how to make use of the lifespan of each identity while factoring in security for him. In such a meeting in 1991, when another birth will be due in 2 years, Kyungsoo decided that he wanted to leave the city life and to begin a quiet chapter as a farmer in his ensuing cycle. 

“I don’t know about you guys, but I think Do Minsoo is suited to be a modern farmer. I’ve been researching the topic of sustainable farming, and how it could be done with minimal labour except during harvest,” Kyungsoo’s introduction to the concept met with mixed reactions from Professor Sungheon, and his lawyer’s son, Seungjin. 

“That was brilliant, Soo! As long as you promise me not to just up and leave before we get the approval to establish the university of cultural heritage. We’ve been working on it for years now!” The professor reminded him.

“How could I? It’s my project as much as it is yours. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kyungsoo interjected. They had been lobbying for the establishment of a national university, specifically to assure that future generations will be equipped and knowledgeable to preserve Korean history and culture. 

“Although I also understand that it might not necessarily happen during my lifetime as Do Jungsoo, I’ll definitely be at your disposal in every way possible as Do Minsoo,” he continued.

“That project is the last one I had in mind before retiring. Obviously, I have been thinking of maybe accepting a few teaching gigs as a gangsa after my tenure at the University ended, but I’m now intrigued by your arrangements, Soo. You know, I could contact some of my acquaintances at the College of Agriculture for the methodologies,” Sungheon enthusiastically responded.

“Excuse me, dad, Soo, have you forgotten something here? Like, don’t I also have any say in all of this?” Both of them turned to Seungjin who had been silent the whole time. The two friends were so immersed in their discussion that Seungjin felt he was being left out.

“While I am and will be supporting your decisions, I’ll be honest here that I’m surprised by the idea. You realised that you played a very big role in my marriage to Youngmi. She will definitely be sad about not having you here, and Yoora will miss you as you’re her favourite uncle,” Seungjin commented. He sighed and looked at both of them. Kyungsoo put his hand on top of the lawyer’s with an assuring smile.

“Being involved and practicing law, notably the legal systems, is something that hasn’t crossed my mind, Seungjin. Perhaps it’s because we have been trying to find loopholes in order for me to continue my existence. It doesn’t mean that I don’t respect your choice of career. You know I love you and your family so much. I promise that I will settle somewhere within a couple of hours from Seoul. That way, the farm can be your family’s weekend getaway, or anytime you guys want to visit,” Kyungsoo quietly explained. Sungheon cleared his throat.

“Seungjin, I hope you didn’t take my acceptance to Soo’s plan, and my consideration of choosing to be included in it, as a sign of my being selfish. It was never my intention, son.”  

“Urgh! Now I feel like I’m the bad one here!” Seungjin whined and rustled his hair in frustration. “I was really counting the days for you to become my crane too. Both of you are the only people I seek recognition of my achievement, be it in academics, job, and personal life. I can’t wait for the time for me to finally introduce you to my children, the real you. I guessed in a way that made me selfish as well,” he closed his eyes and massaged his temples. 

Sungheon laughed and slapped his son’s shoulder. 

“You realised that this is not going to be executed for at least five to six years, right? Although extensive planning had to be started within the next few years, such as purchasing suitable land, construction of the house, and modeling of the farm. There’s a lot of things to be done before I officially become Do Minsoo.”

“I know, I know! I’m just, I don’t know… maybe too looking forward to assuming my father’s capacity?” Seungjin flustered with his justification. That met with another round of laughter.

“Okay then, a farmer,” Kyungsoo wrote the description of work in the table of registration that had been kept by the family for 80 years. The papers had been preserved with care, as it contained all known details of him after being adopted by the Parks. The location and remarks were left empty until further actions were taken. He shifted his eye to the subsequent row.

“When is the next birth registration?” He asked around.

“1993,” both Sungheon and Seungjin answered in unison before erupting in a cackle at their attention to details. 

“As I’m a child of winter, I’ll choose January…,” he momentarily stopped to flip the desk calendar on the professor’s table in the study where they were having the meeting, before tapping a date on it. “January 12th sounds about right.”

“Have you thought of the name?” Seungjin inquired. Kyungsoo flashed a smile that turned his lips heart-shaped.

“Do Kyungsoo. I figured it is time for me to return to my roots,” he replied. 

When Kyungsoo left the room as Youngmi called for him to read a bedtime story for Yoora who would not accept anyone else, Seungjin wanted to clear something that had been in his mind during the discussion.

“Dad, what does he mean when he says that he’s a child of winter?”

“From the stories I heard, he was found in the middle of winter by none other than Yi Hwang himself, and seeing that he had no recollection of his past life, he considered the second week on the twelfth month of the Dangun calendar as his birthday, hence a child of winter,” Sungheon told his son. 

“Wow, I didn’t know that it was Toegye who found him. That explains the look on his face whenever he’s holding a 1,000 won note,” Seungjin connected the dots. The image of Yi Hwang, or his pen name Toegye, had been used on the obverse of the banknote since the mid-’70’s. 

⊗⊗⊗

Towards the end of the following year, in November 1992, Seungjin and Youngmi welcomed a baby boy they named Chanyeol. The registration for Do Kyungsoo had been submitted in January of 1993, making it a first that both the custodian and the ward were being born or registered months apart.

Whilst preparing for the transition, Kyungsoo learned that he had better start to invest, however, due to the lack of knowledge and professional advice, he often dismissed the thought. In between assisting Sungheon with the Bills to establish the national university in 1995, Kyungsoo began finding the location for his farm. Seungjin helped as he acted as Kyungsoo’s personal lawyer. The land and house had been registered under the name of Do Minsoo even when they estimated to move to Nonsan earliest 1997 when he would fully use the identity. 

With the Presidential decree for the establishment of the university having been passed in 1996, the reality of his days as a farmer was drawing near. Nonetheless, Kyungsoo had been thinking ahead and started to deliberate on the possibilities of future considerations. Therefore, during Chuseok in 1997, he approached Seungjin with the notion, as Sungheon had his hands full in the construction of the university. 

“Seungjin, do you know any reputable investment or capital management firm?” He queried. A 5-year old Chanyeol was playing with plushies on his lap. 

“I happen to know one, as the owner-cum-fund manager is a respectable and disciplined fellow. In my opinion, he is probably one of the best out there,” Seungjin replied. He studied Kyungsoo’s nonchalant expressions as he entertained the toddler with the toy.

“Is there anything you wish to proceed or something I can do for you, Soo?” He probed further. Having known him for many years, Kyungsoo was a no-nonsense man.

“I was thinking of starting to invest in the stock market, maybe also in properties or land, among others. And perhaps setting up a charity to manage parts of the revenue later on. But of course, you will be the intermediary because I will be in Nonsan the whole time until Do Kyungsoo is of age to take over the function,” he elaborated.

“Uncle Soo, what’s Nonsan?” The boy with elven ears looked up at him. Kyungsoo kissed the top of the kindergartener’s head.

“It’s a place where I want to plant strawberries and vegetables.” 

“Can I come and play there?” His eyes gleamed in excitement as he pleaded.

“Anytime, Chanyeol.” The lawyer’s son seemed too happy accepting the answer that he ran to his mother and sister to share the news, even when he did not fully understand the meaning. 

Nearly a month after the conversation took place, Seungjin brought Kyungsoo to meet Choi Siwon, the Managing Director of SW Enterprise. 

“Although I would like to think that Seungjin and I have become closely acquainted through our business, surprisingly he had never mentioned about you. Yet he introduced you as a family,” Siwon shook Kyungsoo’s hand vigorously. 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Kyungsoo greeted him. As if he was taken aback by Kyungsoo’s voice, he stopped shaking his hand and offered them to sit.

“Soo is like a family to me. Our fathers are best friends, before that our grandfathers. We’re practically brothers with different surnames,” Seungjin informed the businessman. Both of them were so tall and lanky that Kyungsoo felt almost dwarfed by comparison. But then Park Seungjin’s ancestors had always been tall.

“I believe you’re interested in utilising our humble company’s services. Anything in particular that you want to discuss, or would you like to view our portfolio first?” Siwon started the meeting as it seemed like the potential client was not keen to continue with small talks. 

“Mr Seungjin spoke highly of you, and I trust his judgement. I’m under the impression that he’s using your company’s expertise too.” Kyungsoo glanced at Seungjin who nodded with an impressed countenance, before resuming with, “I’m interested in investment, especially growth capital, stock exchange, and real-estate.”

“You came in here armed with knowledge and purpose. We need brilliant, eloquent, but level-headed and young minds such as yours in our company. Or are you working with Seungjin right now?” Siwon directly praised him and speculated about his association with the lawyer.

“I’m not employed by the law firm, but Mr Seungjin is my personal lawyer. Unfortunately, very soon I will relocate to my family’s farm. Any correspondence shall be arranged via the firm,” Kyungsoo refuted the speculation, however, simultaneously declined the offer as subtly as possible. 

“Ah, I see. I hope my being forward hasn’t changed your opinion and decision?” Siwon explored. Kyungsoo exchanged glimpses with Seungjin with confusion. 

“I’m not entirely sure what you were implying, but I’m certain that I have no other fund manager in mind if that’s what’s worrying you,” Kyungsoo convinced him. The tall man was visibly relieved by the answer. Seungjin on the other hand smirked but covered it up with a cough.

“Thank you, Mr Minsoo. If you allow me, I’d like to propose to you an initial investment through the purchase of public shares. As you may, or may not be aware, POSCO, the state-owned steel company; will be privatised. This is a relatively low-to-medium risk type of investment, as POSCO is an established and stable company, with high net earnings. I’m positive that the share price will increase, hence this is the right time to buy. Do you want to hear more about this?”  He suggested. 

At the same time, a low ringing tone was heard from Kyungsoo’s pocket. Sungheon had informed Kyungsoo the night before that albeit it was such a short notice, Kyungsoo’s presence would be requested in a committee meeting to discuss some problems with the bidding to construct the University of Cultural Heritage.

“That’s a feasible and lucrative proposal, Mr Siwon. Can you please discuss the minimum shares that can be bought and the total cost, along with the paperwork with Seungjin? I’m afraid I had to leave you both for some events with the Professor. Thank you, Mr Siwon. I hope to see you again someday. I’ll see you at home, Seungjin!” Kyungsoo bade goodbye to both men hurriedly as his Anycall portable phone continued to ring.

To say that Choi Siwon was stunned was probably an understatement. He was confident of his selling skills, but he could not recall a confirmed buyer within the first meeting with two fingers. And then there was the mention of the Professor, which he was sure the young man was referring to Professor Park Sungheon. And, the elephant in the room.

“How old is he? Don’t you find it rude that he spoke casually to you?” He inquisitively wondered out loud. 

“You have to forgive him, Siwon. He grew up in a foreign country and only returned here permanently a few months back. He’s not accustomed to honorifics,” Seungjin justified. He then remembered something else.

“But what’s it with you just now? Are you headhunting him?”

“I wish you hadn’t seen that. I don’t know what came over me, Seungjin. I guess the reason that he was being raised overseas might have explained my reaction towards him. He has this inexplicable and majestic aura. I’m not making sense at all, aren’t I?” He groaned. 

“I totally understand how you feel. If only that man realised this,” Seungjin remarked. 

⊗⊗⊗

Late August 2004

“Uncle Soo, can you please help me with my homework?” Chanyeol requested. The extended family members were enjoying the latest harvest of strawberries from the farm that afternoon. The 12-year old boy dragged his backpack and started to unzip it to fish for its contents.

“What homework? You know I’m particularly bad with maths,” Kyungsoo warned him beforehand.

“No, it’s not mathematics. I need to draw our family tree to at least up to 5 generations, and Dad asked me to get help from you,” the boy pouted.

“Oh my, this should be interesting!” Yoora cheekily observed. His older sister had had the ‘talk’, while for Chanyeol, well, he lacked at least 3 to 4 years.

“5 generations? That’s too easy. Do you know that your first ancestor that I met was a man called Park Jiwon? It was in the Spring of 1777. I remembered because the year was a distinctive number. He was a man of great stature, tall and big. He had prominent cheekbones and a double eyelid. Certainly, his genetics passed on until today, judging by you. His physical characteristics made him stand out from the rest of the men, especially during the olden days. A bit clumsy at times, and easily being misunderstood by his peers, plus, his voice could wake his neighbours,” Kyungsoo recalled with fondness, unaware that Chanyeol’s mouth was hanging as he listened.

“1777? That was like... err, wait… a thousand years ago! I don’t want a history lesson,” the boy protested and was met by laughter by everybody around him. 

⊗⊗⊗

September 2019

“The will and Power of Attorney documents are all signed and witnessed, all of which are in the office for safekeeping until you arrive in Seoul to arrange for the meeting with the investment firm. These are your driver’s license, passport, and seal stamp. You already received your identification card, passbook, and bank cards from Dad two weeks ago, so there you have it,” Chanyeol concluded.

“Oh, by the way, I love your new hair. And…. for the record, it’s still difficult for me not to call you Uncle Soo, especially since you call Dad by his name!” He further added. Kyungsoo grinned broadly at the man who had followed his father’s footsteps as a lawyer. 

“Thanks, Yeollie. For the record too, it had been the same for your father, your late grandfather, and the men before them,” Kyungsoo patted Chanyeol’s shoulder. He lifted his passport and examined the bio-data page.

“I haven’t formally used the name Do Kyungsoo in about 100-years, it definitely sounds weird as it’s been so long,” he commented. 

“So when will you move to Seoul? Mum and Dad are pestering me to get a definitive date from you. It’s like the return of the righteous favourite son. I won’t be surprised if they’re going to throw a welcoming party,” Chanyeol rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

“Before Christmas, that much I can tell you. By then, the company will be able to put up the signage to the farm, and hopefully appoint a Construction Manager for converting this house to workers’ lodging,” Kyungsoo cast his eyes around the place. 

“I don’t have much to bring and I’ll have to buy most of my clothes, particularly suits, dress shirts, and even casual shirts! There’s no such requirement for me to own that kind of clothes here. So I could do some shopping while I’m at it,” he planned. 

“Leave it to me! I can be your personal shopper or a chaperone.”

“Then I’ll look forward to your service, Lawyer Park,” Kyungsoo accepted the offer. 

 2020

Forms of Change

Christmas to the New Year passed like a dream. Since the death of Professor Park Sungheon five years earlier, Kyungsoo would spend around 2 months from the start of the festivities, up to the Korean New Year with Seungjin and his family to avoid being completely alone during that time. Which also meant that they would arrange for some kind of a birthday celebration for him, however pointless it was in his opinion.

On the eve of Seollal, with Kyungsoo officially moved from Nonsan to Seoul, although at the time he was still crashing at Chanyeol’s apartment, the three men spent the night drinking at the family house, reminiscing about the past, and after getting visibly drunk, Seungjin and Chanyeol bravely asking Kyungsoo questions they would not normally ask when they were sober.

“Have you been gravely injured, or hurt?” Chanyeol questioned while mixing another round of somaek for them. Kyungsoo stared at the frothy head as if mesmerised by the thick bubbly foam. He swigged slowly to savour the smooth flavour of the drink.

“I haven’t, not even a scratch. I actually tried to see if I could get hurt if I intentionally cut myself,” Kyungsoo began to answer, however, Seungjin grabbed the collar of his shirt as soon as he heard the first half of the reply.

“No! Why would you even do that? If something were to happen to you, I don’t know how to face my ancestors! You have no idea the things I have to promise to my Dad…,” he protested and started to sob. Kyungsoo hugged the lawyer and let him cry on his shoulder.  

“I’m so sorry, Seungjin. It was probably during one of the times when I was having an existential crisis. Like I want to understand the extent of my condition or volunteer to be medically examined. But I was reminded of the conversation I had with Master Nam Gon. And the efforts that have been taken by all those involved within these hundreds of years will go to waste. I owe my life to a lot of people, the Sarim scholars, and your family. Not to mention the contacts, allies, and forgers, who created, and maintained every single record of my identities with no questions asked. I may never really know them, and I have no intention to because the smaller the circle, the better. But I am grateful for you, all of you,” he raised his glass to the invisible guests.

Chanyeol felt a prickling at the corner of his eyes, and his throat constricted. He remembered when his Dad prefaced the talk with him as if reading a passage from a fairy tale.

“Once upon a time, there was a scholar during the Joseon era, who dreamt of a red-crowned crane in the middle of winter. It had been interpreted as an auspicious dream, therefore the scholars went to find the source at the location depicted in the dream. There, they found an unconscious man and soon they nursed him back to life. Years went by, and the scholars noticed that the man had not aged a day.”

“Dad, is this about Uncle Soo?” He quietly interrupted the story. His father stared at him with glistened eyes. 

“Pray tell me, son. How did you manage to make the connection?” 

“Our family photo albums. The ones you told me not to show to other people? His hairstyle and clothing may have changed, but I recognised him, Dad. Uncle Soo has been with us for a very long time , hasn’t he?” Chanyeol guessed. His father nodded to confirm the assumption.

At first, Chanyeol thought that his Uncle Soo was the luckiest man, and if he could, he wanted to learn how to attain the ability too. But he witnessed firsthand how Kyungsoo was grieving the death of Professor Sungheon, and how he accidentally walked in on him and his father flipping the pages of the family album with tears in both their eyes. He saw Kyungsoo gently caressing the photos as if he was silently communicating with them. He realised that even if he was being blessed with a long age, he might not be able to endure the pain and loneliness.

𝌡𝌡𝌡

“Knock knock!” Minseok playfully verbalised his actions of knocking on the non-existent door to Baekhyun’s office. The God of Longevity looked up from the form he was reviewing.

“Minseok! Please make yourself at home! To what do I owe the pleasure of a personal visit from the Head of Angel Resources himself?” He cheerfully welcomed, and nearly addressed Minseok as the Head of Angels, as the department was formerly known before the restructuring and rebranding of several departments and renaming positions. To be perfectly honest, Baekhyun had not fully coined some of the new terms, and he couldn't care less. 

At the mention and sight of the Head of Angel Resources, the rest of the staff of the Longevity Department, Heavenly Inc. got up from their seats. They were angels too, therefore seeing Minseok was akin to having a celebrity in their midst. 

“Please carry on with your duties, I’m just here to deliver a memo,” he smiled sweetly to the angels before perching at the corner of Baekhyun’s table.

“Memo? What memo?” Baekhyun frantically asked. He quickly checked the shared calendar. He was hoping that there had not been a scheduled meeting he missed.

“Relax, you haven’t missed any meetings. But this memo is not from Angels Resources, I am merely a despatch,” Minseok winked his eye which further added to the mystery. Baekhyun snatched the sealed envelope from the archangel. 

“Ta,” he thanked and waved at Minseok who answered with a flying kiss before making his exit. As soon as the parchment paper escaped the envelope, the letterhead revealed the embossed golden and bold lettering: The Department of Continuous Improvement, Heavenly Inc. If Baekhyun had a heart, it would have been in his mouth. 

“Holy bleeping heavens!” He exclaimed as the memo contained a notice from the department formerly known as The Internal Audits. The dreaded internal audits. 

Mark, the Chief of Angels in the Longevity Department observed his boss’s expressions with curiosity. It seemed as if Baekhyun had stopped functioning.

“Boss, are you okay?” He innocently asked. Baekhyun could not form any response however handed the document to Mark. 

The Department of Continuous Improvement, Heavenly Inc.

To: The Department of Longevity, Heavenly Inc. (attn. Baekhyun, Head of Department)

Re: Affiliate Internal Controls Check

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Baekhyun,

It is with great pleasure for us to notify you that your Department has been selected in the Affiliate Internal Controls Check activities (hereinafter referred to as ‘AICC’) to ensure adherence to the Heavenly Service Standards (hereinafter referred to as the ‘Standards’).

The date of performing these AICC activities is estimated within 3 (three) lunar cycles from receipt of this memo. However, in the event of any delay, we shall inform you by written notice(s). 

We would be grateful if you could be present in the initial introduction meeting with Junmyeon, the Head of the Continuous Improvement which will be scheduled on the first day of the AICC. Kindly assign an Angel Resource to assist us during the activities.

We are confident that your Department’s services and records are in compliance with the Standards, and we look forward to seeing you soonest.

Please contact us should you have any questions or concerns.

Warm regards,

Junmyeon

“Do we want to know from how far back the historical records that they would audit? Or are there any specific cases or types of Services that they want to focus on?” Mark wondered, having finished reading and comprehending the contents.

“We could submit an audit query form to them, as a response to this memo. We could use efficiency to justify the query. I believe they already had the audit plan drafted, although they will only share if and when requested.” Mark continued after getting no reply from his boss. 

Baekhyun closed his eyes, trying to remember when was the last time his department had a visit from the IAs, or as they rightfully called themselves nowadays as CIs. 

“Mark, our department handles a special task that sets us unique from others. It’s an ad hoc kind of service. Do you know what it is?” Baekhyun quizzed the angel.

“Sacrifice. Apart from the usual longevity input and variables for designated souls of unborn humans, we handle sacrifice cases,” Mark answered as if he was reading from a catalogue. 

“As expected from my Chief of Angels. Knowing Junmyeon, I’m positive that the first thing he’d aim for is the records for sacrifice,” Baekhyun searched Mark’s face while formulating a strategy.

“Depending on the current workload, could you please assign one or two resources to review the records to make sure we do not have an open case? But please make sure not to exceed the allowed maximum hours, or I’ll hear from Minseok,” He requested. 

“Sure thing!” Mark affirmed his acknowledgement and left to the archives. Baekhyun suddenly understood why humans needed either a drink or to lie down. In his case, he might need both.

𝌡𝌡𝌡

Sehun opened the box they received that morning which contained agreements to be witnessed. He made sure all four documents were clearly identified as original, and three copies, and they had been duly signed. While marking the signatory space with a ‘Sign Here’ sticky note, the telephone on his desk rang.

“Good afternoon, Park SC & Associates, how may I assist you?” He answered with the standard phone etiquette.

“Good afternoon, can I please speak to Mr Park Seungjin?” The caller asked. Sehun immediately clicked and opened the whitelist spreadsheet on his desktop.

“May I please know who’s on the line?” He requested.

“This is Kyungsoo. You may also tell Mr Seungjin to please charge his mobile when you transfer the call,” the man on the other line answered. 

“Please hold the line,” he automatically replied while performing the search for Kyungsoo’s name. He found it listed as ‘family’ and quickly tapped the extension number.

“Mr Park, I will transfer a call from Mr Kyungsoo, who also asked you to charge your handphone,” Sehun informed his employer. 

“Thank you, Sehun. I can’t find my charger anywhere, so let me borrow yours.”

“Certainly, sir.” Sehun replaced the receiver and opened the first drawer to his pedestal to retrieve the charger. However, since he had been taught not to barge, he finished the task of separating the documents with a large-sized bulldog clip for each copy and marked them accordingly.

He gently rapped his knuckles on the door to the room of the senior partner of the firm, armed with documents and a charger.

“Here are the copies to the signed agreement between Byun Urbanscape, Bucheon City Development Centre, and Skyline Constructions for you to witness. I will arrange for stamping and sending the executed documents to the relevant parties by tomorrow. And here’s the charger you requested for,” he assembled them on the table and waited for further instructions.

“You’re a lifesaver, Sehun. Normally I’d ask Chanyeol but he’ll only return from Busan next week. I swear I have it here somewhere… or maybe I brought them home by mistake. Before you go, can you please file those documents, and return these files to the cabinet?” Park Seungjin pointed to the documents and files scattered on the other side of his vast executive desk. 

“Sure,” he responded and collected the key to the cabinet behind the lawyer’s workspace. While crouching to reach the lower part of the cabinet to pull one of the file boxes, someone knocked on Seungjin’s office. 

“Come in,” the lawyer called out. 

“Seungjin! I’m here at last!” 

“Soo! I can’t believe it took you years to finally set foot in my company!”

Sehun turned his body and saw his boss embracing a young man, maybe around mid-to-late-twenties. But if his hearing was right, the guy was using banmal and surprisingly Park Seungjin, the strict lawyer that he had been known for, accepted the casual approach despite their apparent age difference. 

“You’re supposed to visit the real estate agent today, aren’t you? So how did it go?”

“Yeah, about that…, I took some brochures and promised that I’ll get back as soon as practicably possible. I still need to readjust to society, and while living with Chanyeol is very assuring, I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” the man sighed.

Sehun got up awkwardly and made his presence known to the men.

“Ah, thank you Sehun. If you have nothing else pending, you can call it a day. I’ll be sure to lock the doors,” Park Seungjin reacted. Sehun smiled at his gaffer and stole a glance at the other man.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he acknowledged and closed the door to the room. He still had the whitelist opened on his desktop when he sat to shut down his PC, with the search result shown for Kyungsoo. Sehun paused to piece together the information but gave up halfway as all possible explanations did not seem plausible. 

𝌡𝌡𝌡

“As you know, I have not been personally involved in any accounts for years now,” Siwon handed the file to the young financial advisor. He took off his glasses and began to clean an invisible smudge off the edge of the rim, a habit he formed while waiting for others to read or review a document. The young man did a quick scan, an obvious takeaway that he knew the file was only the tip of the iceberg. 

“As many of you have speculated, I was holding onto this account for personal reasons, but it’s not what you guys were thinking. The client, Mr Do Minsoo was one of the most successful investors I have handled. His investments and decision-making had, in a lot of ways, helped this company during the recession. I don’t know if we could simply call it luck, or if he had a gift of prophecy,” he continued. He heard the thick file being closed and carefully set down on the coffee table between the two men.

“You’re using past tense to refer to this client,” his employee observed. Choi Siwon had a bittersweet smile on his face upon hearing it. 

“His lawyer has sent a notification that he had died last year, and his son shall inherit all his assets. They will set up a meeting with us because evidently, they wanted to continue the business. I only met the man once, and it was during the first meeting. It left such an impression on me and helped to boost my confidence. Not that you need any kind of boost,” he quickly clarified before recommencing, “I think you’d be the best person to handle this account from now on, and to represent the company as a continuation of the relationship.”

Kim Jongin did not know how to properly react to the proposal. Everyone in the company knew how possessive the CEO had been with this particular client’s accounts. 

“Thank you for your trust in me, sir. I will reluctantly accept the responsibility,” he responded after much thought. 

“Did they mention when the meeting’s going to be?” he added with a question, remembering his plans for a vacation hopefully before summer. 

“When I last spoke to the lawyer, they were implying that the meeting will take place after the formalities with government agencies have been finalised. They were waiting for the change of ownership to the charity foundation and several companies to be confirmed, including the transfer of monetary assets from the banks, and closure of tax files,” Siwon replied while rummaging for something in his fat wallet. 

“This is the lawyer’s business card, for your safekeeping.” Jongin accepted the card with both hands, and read the name on it - Park Chanyeol.

“It’s funny though, I must say. The lawyer’s father, a friend of mine if I may add, was Mr Do Minsoo’s personal lawyer. And his son, whose card I gave to you just now, holds the same capacity for the client’s son.” Siwon chuckled as he remembered how Seungjin described Minsoo as his family. He peeked at his watch.

“Anyway, I will introduce you to Park Chanyeol via email, and ask him to communicate directly with you with the arrangements. Just keep me in the loop until after the meeting, okay? I’m not going to take any more of your time because I have a dinner date with my daughter,” Siwon got up from the sofa, prompting Jongin to proceed similarly but now at least a kilo heavier with the file of Do Minsoo in his hand.

“So I heard that you’re going to inherit the golden egg?” Wonshik, his rival-turned-best friend, noiselessly pedaled his swivel chair to take a better look at Jongin from his cubicle. 

“Rumours travel fast,” he replied half-heartedly while scrolling his emails and flagging the ones he needed to follow up tomorrow. 

“Just give me a heads-up if the goose is giving you any investment proposal. I could suggest the same to my clients,” Wonshik added. Jongin did a double-take. 

“First, it’s a golden egg. Now a goose. What’s next? Turned to a swan?” He asked with furrowed brows. 

“Hey, don’t blame me. Those are the nicknames our seniors gave to this client,” he defensively clarified.

“I’m aware of that, but I was not expecting you to use the same terms. Be respectful, man. The client passed away last year,” Jongin shook his head in disbelief.

“Oh shit! I didn’t know. I swear, Jongin. Let’s just forget what I said, okay?” 

“Okay, but on the condition that you’re buying me dinner,” he closed the lid of his laptop and stored the file in a locked cabinet. He pocketed his mobile phone and waited for Wonshik to respond. Wonshik wanted to whine, but quickly grabbed his jacket and left the office with his friend.

𝌡𝌡𝌡

“So…, long story short, Mark scoured the archives and found some open cases.”

“That’s absolutely correct, as always,” Baekhyun confirmed with nods. 

“And, although you managed to close several of those cases, you need my help on one of them?” Jongdae reiterated the request that Baekhyun relayed to him just now. Baekhyun exasperatingly squirmed. It brought some kind of joy for the God of Fortune to tease him.

“Yes, yes, and yes!” 

“Are you sure there’s only one case that you’d need my humble service?” He sought further confirmation. With Baekhyun, one could never tell.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Jongdae! Just tell me, will you or won’t you help a dear old friend?” Baekhyun cried in frustration. 

“Alright, alright. Calm down. I’m just pulling your legs. You know you can always count on me,” Jongdae persuaded. Baekhyun made a sniffing sound and pouted.

“But you haven’t heard the details yet. Are you sure you won’t change your mind later?” 

“I promise. Now tell me.”

Jongdae wished he had not promised, but if he didn’t, then Baekhyun would find himself in hot water. At least, with his assistance and a bit of persuasion, they might be able to find a solution.

“I hope you’re well aware that regardless of how much Luna loves me, she will chew your ears off. Like literally chew them,” Jongdae warned. Baekhyun looked like a kicked puppy.

“Okay, with that in mind, let’s go and see her.” Jongdae pulled Baekhyun’s hand.

𝌡𝌡𝌡

“Hold on a sec, Chanyeol. Let me process this first… So, you’re saying that you’re a bisexual?”

“Yes, and I feel guilty about it. Not because I’m ashamed of my orientation and preference, but because of the possibility that I will put pressure onto Yoora to have a child,” Chanyeol had tears in his eyes as he imagined the consequences of his coming out.

Kyungsoo held Chanyeol’s larger hands and squeezed them. It must have taken a lot of courage for him to admit it, Kyungsoo realised. He silently cursed his gift. If only he was a normal human being. If only he could find a way to free the Parks from this ridiculous responsibility.

“Oh wait, please don’t take it the wrong way! Please don’t ever think that you’re a burden to our family!” As if Chanyeol could hear his thoughts, he violently shook his head and wailed.

“I’m so sorry, Soo…. I’m so sorry. Am I being selfish?” he apologised in between heavy sobs. Kyungsoo smiled softly at the boy he had helped to change his diapers, and his heart swelled with pride and adoration. 

“No, you’re not being selfish at all. Have you told your father yet?” Kyungsoo questioned. Chanyeol wiped his face and blew his nose.

“I haven’t. I wanted to speak to you first.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way for now. We’ll think of something, and we’re only going to approach your dad after we have a concrete plan. Okay?” Kyungsoo asserted. Chanyeol nodded slowly. 

“It’s rather late now, and I’m going to get ready for bed. Don’t stay up for too long, and most importantly, don’t drink too much! We have a long day tomorrow,” he reminded the young lawyer. 

Kyungsoo lay on the bed with thousands of thoughts in his mind. One option was to move out of Korea to somewhere remote, where his identity would not be questioned. But that would require extensive research and planning. Besides, he knew that Seungjin would oppose the idea in a heartbeat. He opened the notes apps in his phone and began to type the options, pros and cons, and a rough sketch of ideas of how the options could be materialised.

𝌡𝌡𝌡

“You know Baekhyun, you are lucky that Jongdae is my favourite. His pure heart meant that he’s guaranteed to not be swayed or corrupted. Humans will do anything and everything to change their fortune. Their offerings to him are probably one of the grandest of any of the gods here.” Luna held both of Jongdae’s hands in hers while beaming earnestly as if pouring her unconditional love.

“Stop it, Luna… What are you complimenting me for?” Jongdae pretended to be annoyed with the Goddess of Love. 

“Yes, I know I screwed up, and I should have called out to you on that day so we could work together. I’m sorry, Luna.” Baekhyun apologised. 

“Yes, that’s the err, inter-department thingy that has been circulated in our correspondences, yeah… I think if we officially worked together, all three of us, this file could be used as a case study.” Luna suggested.

“That’s the ‘Inter-departmental collaboration’ for your ease of reference, Baek. I think that’s a brilliant idea, Luna. I mean, regardless that we are 500 years too late to finally fulfill the man’s wish, this could be our chance to be featured in the coverage!” Jongdae excitedly agreed with her.

“Do as you wish, for me I just want this internal audit to be over with,” Baekhyun sighed in defeat. 

“Okay, first things first, did you bring his magdaegi ?” Luna asked, opening her palm. Baekhyun gingerly placed the stick which immediately glowed on contact. Luna tsk-tsked as the information flowed through. In the human world, fortune-tellers would normally use magdaegi as one of the methods to predict a person’s life. Soothsayers probably saw one in their dreams and replicated them. 

“In his original fate, there were inputs of romantic love and relationships. But it was destined at a later stage in his life. However, seeing you two have taken the liberty to add new variables, the original input had been overwritten due to a change of location, and time. Since I gathered that at this point, it has been way past the ‘later stage’, I will need to update the data. Let’s go and find this poor man,” Luna instructed them.

“I’ve never seen you at work, Luna,” Jongdae chirped.

“Then you guys are in for a treat.”

They teleported to modern-day Seoul, in an apartment with interesting designs that lacked the personal touch, as Baekhyun observed. He had been in many dwellings before, and if he was right, humans called this ‘minimalist’. Whatever that means, he thought.

While Jongdae and Luna found their ways to the man’s room according to the glow of the magdaegi, Baekhyun snooped around. There was a man in the other room, so absorbed in typing on his laptop, with only the light from the monitor illuminating his face. He scooted closer before swirling out of the room as he sensed that Luna was calling for him.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten about our purpose?” She scrutinised him. 

“Sorry, it’s an old habit of mine - to see how the other half lives,” he admitted sheepishly. 

They stood at the end of the bed where the man slept. If only he knew there were celestial beings near him, about to perform some kind of divine interventions to his already-altered fate. Luna took his hand and using the magdaegi, she traced the lines on Kyungsoo’s palm. After a few strokes, she returned the man’s hand onto his chest and floated gracefully back to where the other gods were.

“With magdaegi version 9.0, all changes made to the consolidated original fate (or ‘COF’, as abbreviated in the manuals) can be reviewed in the ‘log’ section. We know that apart from the COF, we can alter or add any variables only once thereafter. In other words, you Baekhyun shall not be able to shorten this abundance of life you gifted him. Jongdae my dear, you could no longer discontinue the wealth you granted. At least not without submitting the appropriate forms to the higher channels. In which case, none of us wanted to go that route.” Luna took a deep breath after delivering the Introduction to Altering One’s Fate with Magdaegi 9.0.  

“So what did you do?” Jongdae dared himself to ask the question. 

“I added the variables that upon finding love, he will revert to a mortal with the lifespan per his COF. He will meet his fateful partner between 1 to 15 solar days from now, as this is a very special instance,” Luna explained.

“How does it work, if I may ask? Will he wake up and fall in love with the person he sees next? Or will you assign a cupid--” 

“Baekhyun, cupids have been rebranded to ‘agents of love’ or just simply ‘agents’,” Jongdae cut him before he could finish.

“I can tolerate the use of the archaic term, but don’t let an agent hear you. They have been fighting for rebranding for ages. All because of the misconception of the word cupid itself,” she answered.

“I’m sorry, I’ll keep that in mind,” Baekhyun apologised for the nth time. 

“To answer your earlier question - no, tomorrow morning he will not suddenly realise that he has been in love with that handsome man in the next room. They’re practically family anyway. Instead, he will face an encounter. Encounter is a very crucial moment that the agents and I rely on. Of course, an agent shall be assigned for him. During the encounter between two possible partners, agents will evaluate whether their values matched. These values are like physical attributes, voice, clothing, choice of perfume, you name it. Anything that attracts one to another. For humans, this might seem like a blink of an eye. But the agents actually slow down the flow of time considerably during these encounters without them realising, so we could trigger the hormones associated with love within them. Et voilà! The feelings sow, they fall in love, etc., etc., etc.” Luna happily demonstrated the methodologies. Her audience listened with their mouths hanging. They applauded and group-hugged excitedly.

“Thank you, Luna. Thank you so much! Anytime you need anything from me, just summon. I’ll help with no questions asked!” Baekhyun promised.

𝌡𝌡𝌡

Chanyeol felt a sudden draught in the otherwise still air. It sent a chill down his spine as the clock on his taskbar showed that it was nearly 3 in the morning. 

2020 ~ Present Day

Facets of Love

“I told you not to sleep late or drink too much, did I not? After 2 days in bed, you have not fully recovered, and yet you didn’t want to reschedule this meeting,” Kyungsoo fussed as they arrived at the Yongsan Business District. 

“I’m okay now, I promise! I just don’t want to prolong it because this is the last thing for us to do before you can fully become Do Kyungsoo - businessman, philanthropist, angel investor.” Chanyeol adjusted his tie before they entered the building.

“Wow, this is impressive. This whole building is theirs,” Kyungsoo stated. They queued to register as visitors, and when Chanyeol mentioned the appointment scheduled with Choi Siwon and presented his business card, they were ushered to an express elevator. 

They were 15 minutes early, and the staff waiting for them on the topmost level showed them to one of the VIP rooms, complete with refreshments served prior to their arrival. It boasted a magnificent view of the Han River, and Kyungsoo was automatically drawn to the window. Meanwhile, after 2 days of missing work, Chanyeol’s phone had not stopped vibrating and he excused himself to attend to the calls as their hosts had not arrived.

Whilst admiring the view, and recalling events of yesteryears, he heard the door open. Assuming it was Chanyeol, and without turning his back, he remarked, “Did you know there used to be a small shrine, not far from the northern bank of Hangang, which is visible from here, that the Professor and I went to do an evaluation study whether it is feasible to restore the building?”

“Sadly I did not know that,” an unfamiliar voice answered. Kyungsoo quickly turned to find a good-looking man standing by the door with a polite smile. He blushed despite all efforts to control his expressions and cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you’re my lawyer,” he apologetically reasoned. At the same time, the door opened yet again, this time cue an ageing Choi Siwon who could not feign the surprise, and audibly gasped when their eyes met. Sensing the awkward air, Chanyeol, who went in behind Siwon, clapped his hands.

“Sorry, I had to answer some calls earlier. I hope I haven’t missed anything?” He announced and walked to Kyungsoo’s side. 

“Oh, where are my manners? Hello, I’m the CEO of SW Enterprise, Choi Siwon. And this is one of my associates, Kim Jongin,” the older man offered his hand.

“I’m Park Chanyeol, personal lawyer to Mr Do Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol introduced himself and shook hands with both men, followed by Kyungsoo. They swapped business cards and sat on the leather sofa.

“Before we begin, may I please ask you some rather personal questions, Mr Do Kyungsoo?” 

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo exchanged quick glances, with little nods from the lawyer.

“Yes, you may,” Kyungsoo confirmed. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you closely resembled your father?” Siwon inquired.

“Every chance they got, Mr Siwon. Although I must say that my father was quite uptight and strict, due to his upbringing I supposed. I’m not as strict as him,” he answered with a laugh that seemed to ease everyone’s mood. 

“Is your mother still with us? I’m sorry if this is too private, it’s okay if you don’t want to answer,” Siwon continued but did not press his client to disclose.

“Unfortunately my mother passed away even earlier than my father. I’m mostly brought up by him, other relatives, and workers on our farm.”

“Ah, I see… I hope you didn’t take this the wrong way. I mean, you must have thought ‘what kind of a business meeting is this where the client’s very personal details are being sought?’” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m used to the reactions anyway. The good thing is I don’t need to worry about whether I’m adopted.” Kyungsoo’s response was met with a roar of laughter from the firm’s owner.

“Okay, I think we can now carry on with our agenda for the day?” Chanyeol suggested. Kyungsoo stole a peek at the man sitting beside his boss, who had not uttered a single word after their brief conversation. He had been staring at him the whole time Kyungsoo was conversing with the others. Kyungsoo felt another blush creeping up from his neck and involuntarily covered his reddening cheek with his hand. 

He pretended to pay attention to the documents cited and referred to by Chanyeol, but truth be told, he could not catch what they were saying. 

When it was Jongin’s turn to acknowledge and confirm the firm’s understanding, he spoke in a soft voice as if slathered in honey, and yet it commanded everyone in the vicinity to listen to him. He suggested another meeting for them to present their investment proposal, and Kyungsoo promptly agreed. 

How can a man be so dangerously gorgeous? Why couldn’t my heart calm down? He had met a lot of men and women, however, he had not reacted the way he did with Kim Jongin. He had so many questions, but ultimately he knew what the signs were for.

♡♡♡

A swan.

An elegant swan. An adorably elegant swan. 

The client turned out to be near-verbatim from his own words to Wonshik. To make matters worse, he was exactly his type. 

Jongin sat across from his boss after the conclusion of the meeting with the clients. He waited for Mr Siwon to start, but the man was seemingly thousands of miles away.

“Are you regretting your decision to hand over the file, sir?” 

“Huh? Eh no. Not that, Jongin. I’m too old for this unnecessary stress. You know, I’m glad you’re the one who’s in charge. I felt weird, is all. Because somehow they are the same but completely different. They have the same majestic aura, and yet this one is gentler. Very polite too if I may add. The other one was blunt, a no-nonsense kind of guy. His father was raised overseas and not used to honorifics, so he addressed my friend very casually. I gathered that when we met, he was busy with another project with the Professor, and our meeting was cut short because of that,” Siwon cleared up.

“The Professor?” That was the second time he heard of the term. 

“The lawyer’s grandfather was a history professor and one of the founding fathers of the Korea National University of Cultural Heritage,” the clarification somehow did not make any sense to what Jongin had heard, but he made no further assumptions.

Siwon pushed the speaker button on his phone and connected the call to his secretary to inform her to get his driver ready. 

“After being mentally transported to 1997, I’m exhausted. I trust that you’ll prepare a proposal that will win his attention?” His employer prodded. 

“Most definitely sir,” Jongin answered. 

The combination of ‘proposal’ and ‘winning his attention’ sounds like music to his ears.

♡♡♡

As if it had become their routine, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol went for brisk walking at a nearby park every Saturday morning, followed by a light brunch.

“Chanyeol, what’s your type?” he casually quizzed. Chanyeol, who was sipping his iced americano, immediately choked. Kyungsoo handed him some serviettes. 

“I wasn’t expecting that kind of question this early in the morning, Soo.”

“What do you mean by early? 11:35 is hardly morning anymore,” he retorted, teasing the young man.

“Why the sudden interest? Are you afraid that you’d be the type of person I could be interested in?” Chanyeol countered with a smirk to return the tease.

“Don’t be silly, Yeollie. I know all of your embarrassing moments, some I have recorded to be used to blackmail you in the future,” he playfully threatened him. 

“That’s not fair!”

“Just answer my question then!” They continued to banter. 

“Okay… Let’s see…, I like someone who's a petite, puppy-like person, cute without even trying to, opinionated yet open-minded, and it’s a bonus if they’re funny,” Chanyeol responded with a dreamy smile.

“That’s a tall order,” Kyungsoo concluded with a deadpan voice. 

“Let’s hear yours then,” Chanyeol baited. Kyungsoo stared into Chanyeol’s eyes and then scanned his face thoroughly. He could not deny that Chanyeol was a handsome man, complete with a charming personality. Was it because he treated him as his own child that he did not feel even the slightest attraction to him?

“You’re making me nervous, old man!” Chanyeol threw the crumpled tissues at him. Kyungsoo moved slightly to the left to successfully avoid the damped paper. 

“You’re most certainly not my type,” he resolved based on his observation.

“I’m really curious now. Do you even have a type?” Chanyeol had never heard his father mention anything about Kyungsoo’s romantic interest. 

Maybe, Kyungsoo thought. Someone tall, with Adonis-like features and sun-kissed skin, and despite knowing he’s dishy he stays humble, the first person who made his heart race in 500 years. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kyungsoo answered mysteriously. 

♡♡♡

After the meeting last Thursday, Jongin immediately sent the invitation for the proposal discussion scheduled for the following week’s Wednesday. He arranged as such to prepare the documents, and perhaps a sort of ‘cooling-off period’ after what happened. What he did not foresee was for Kyungsoo to reply by suggesting a casual discussion over coffee. 

“I prepared a 20-slides PowerPoint presentation, and he just responded by ‘Let’s meet and discuss this in an informal setting over coffee. You may bring any printed materials, or you could email them a day before so I could review them prior to our meeting’. I spent most of my time last week for the presentation too,” he complained.

“You looked happy though, so why does it matter?” Wonshik was visibly confused. 

“Was it that obvious?” He checked.

“In the years of knowing you, the only interest you have is work, and although this is related to work, you’re treating it differently. Who is this client anyway?” Wonshik coerced his friend, batting his eyelashes seductively. Jongin gagged while refusing to answer the question.

He could not get Kyungsoo out of his head. There was something soothing behind his external character that he chose to present to the world, a genuine man in the sea of pretentious humans. But would the effect wear off in three days’ time?

♡♡♡

They arranged to meet at a coffee shop near the investment firm so they could return to the office should there be any documents to be signed. From afar, Jongin could see him standing outside of the café, dressed in a checkered shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up to reveal his arms, and he was wearing a pair of dark-rimmed glasses that were in contrast to his fair skin. He was glad he left his jacket or else he would feel overdressed. He was gladder that upon the sight of Kyungsoo, his mood lifted and a smile found its way to his lips even without the man noticing since he was on his phone. His gladdest moment was when their eyes met and he experienced the same if not more intense electrifying sensation than before. 

“I hope you haven’t waited long,” he greeted. 

“No, I haven’t. I would have waited inside if otherwise,” Kyungsoo answered and they walked the short distance side by side.

The place had an aesthetic ambiance, and at 4 in the afternoon, there were only a couple of other tables occupied. As Kyungsoo had assured Jongin that he had the proposal memorised and asked him not to bring anything for the discussion, Jongin could not help but  feel a bit sceptical. 

“I’ll be honest with you, Mr Kyungsoo--”

“Please, you don’t have to be formal with me. Just ‘Kyungsoo’ is fine,” the client cut his sentence.

“Alright then. I’ll be honest with you, Kyungsoo, I don’t normally go to a meeting empty-handed,” he finished his comment.

“But I’m not a normal client, Jongin. Like my father learned to trust Mr Siwon, I will learn to confide in and respect your ability and opinion. However, at the same time, I hope you will reciprocate the effort as well?” 

“Of course!” Jongin hastily confirmed.

“That is why I think it’s very important for us to get to know each other, to build rapport. Not just confined to our business roles. I trust this is not too forward-thinking on my part?” Kyungsoo asked with a doe-eyed look. Jongin cursed under his breath as his brain turned to mush.

“Absolutely not,” he breathlessly responded. This man would be the death of him.

“Thank you.” It was just a simple expression, often taken for granted, but with Kyungsoo’s earnest smile, Jongin was drawn to those luscious lips. He cleared his throat and looked away.

“Did Choi Siwon listed ‘applicants must be tall and handsome’ in the job advertisement?” 

“I appreciate your compliments, Kyungsoo. With time, I’m confident I can prove to you that my abilities are beyond my looks,” Jongin replied.

“I love a confident man,” Kyungsoo responded without missing a beat, however added “I can see now why your boss appointed you to handle this account,” after a brief pause. Nice cover-up, Jongin amusingly thought.

“Hello, this slice of cake is on the house,” the café’s employee placed what looked like a red velvet cake between them. Both men did not even realise when the man approached their table. 

“Thank you, that’s very nice of you but we’re fine,” Jongin wished to politely refuse the cake, but Kyungsoo already sliced a thin layer and took a bite. A satisfactory response in the form of a hum escaped from his lips. He looked up to the server and Jongin could see a flash of recognition between them. 

“You’re most welcome. The both of you hover around each other like birds-of-paradise. The tension is killing my colleagues and I,” the white-haired employee flashed a teasing smile before retreating to the counter. Two of his co-workers, a slim man with a mop of curly red hair and a blonde woman waved enthusiastically at them. 

“Do you know them?” Jongin asked.

“I don’t, but maybe I’ve seen the two men before? I’m not sure. I’ve never been to this café, and it’s my second time in this part of town.”

“Can I please suggest that we go to my office? Perhaps a neutral environment with fewer spectators could help?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have proposed an informal setting in the first place,” Kyungsoo apologised, sensing Jongin’s discomfort. He looked sad too while quickly finishing his coffee. Jongin wanted to refute that he was the one suggesting the place, but Kyungsoo had quietly got up from his chair.

♡♡♡

“Things are progressing as planned,” Luna blew a kiss to an agent seated near where Jongin and Kyungsoo previously sat, as Baekhyun returned with empty cups and barely eaten cake.

“Jongdae, now it’s your turn!” She tossed a set of keys in the air. Jongdae expertly caught them with a smirk. 

“I have always wanted to ride one of those things,” he gleefully squealed.

♡♡♡

Kyungsoo racked his brain, flipping from one year to the next, jumping from one face to another. He had been very careful of making acquaintances throughout his long life as there would be chances for him to be exposed. For each lifespan, he would adopt a certain hairstyle, choice of clothing, speech mannerism, and even personality. Try as he might, he could not place the café employees anywhere in his memories, and yet he had a terrible feeling that they have met before. 

He silently followed Jongin back to his office, half-consciously stopped before a 4-lanes zebra crossing in front of the SW Tower. Deep in his heart of hearts, he regretted his audacious acts and presumptuous belief that there was something that could happen between him and Jongin. Did he fail to take into account that the man was off the market? Did he forget that in his line of work, Jongin would meet a lot of people, and the attraction he felt was simply because of charismatic persuasiveness? Would this mean Jongin will be another Choi Siwon? He felt so pathetic having to hide behind the Parks yet again. Maybe the plan to move overseas was not a bad idea after all.

He realised that he fell behind, but he knew he had adequate time to reach the pavement before the red man appeared. 

“Kyungsoo!” In slow motion, he lifted his eyes to find Jongin’s voice, however, concurrently at the corner of his sight, he saw a motorcycle rider sped up to him. On that split second, Kyungsoo ignored what others might do, because (a) he was the red-crowned crane, was he not? And (b), if he wasn’t, it wouldn't matter anyway. Frankly, he was a bit tired of life. 

That was probably why he just let Jongin pull him, and the momentum caused them to roll on the tarmac. Several onlookers shrieked as the rider accelerated with a blasted roar of the engine. 

Kyungsoo found himself looking at the beautiful late Spring sky where patches of cirrocumulus clouds spread across the blue horizon. He had not been a meteorologist or an astronomer before, had he? He was so busy on earth that he had forgotten of the beauty just above his head. Maybe in another life, he thought. 

He blinked as hot tears slowly flowed from his eyes. What a strange day to fall in love, he chuckled before the lights went off. 

♡♡♡

“Excuse me, sir, I think we also need to examine you for any injuries,” the EMT pleaded as he kept pushing them aside. 

“I’m okay, please, let me see him!” 

“I tell you what, we’ll transport the both of you to Yongsan Hospital,” the masked woman informed him in a defeated sigh. He thanked her and climbed onto the ambulance with Kyungsoo on the wheeled stretcher. 

Once inside, the ambulance personnel made a call to the hospital to inform them of their arrival and status.

“Pt. 1 - Male, 27, RTC, current vitals: heart rate 108, SPO2 97%, BP 130 over 85, LOC, possible mTBI. Pt. 2, err, how old are you, sir?”

“26,” Jongin answered weakly.

“Pt. 2 - male, 26, RTC, conscious, refusing any treatment. Yes, yes. ETA? 5 minutes max? Sure…” Jongin did not bother to listen to her as he played back the moments happening less than 20 minutes ago that seemed to have etched in his mind. 

Was it wrong for him to ask Kyungsoo to leave the coffee shop? Why did he suddenly become quiet and distracted? Why did he not react fast enough when his name was called? Did he smile just before he lost consciousness? 

“Uhhh...” A hoarse groan pulled him out of his thoughts. If he turned any faster, he could have suffered whiplash. 

“Kyungsoo?! Kyungsoo! Are you okay?” He desperately asked, his hands sought out Kyungsoo’s which languidly lay on his side. 

“Are we in an ambulance?”

“Yes! We fell after the motorcyclist nearly hit you. Did you remember that?”

“Funny… This is my first ambulance ride, you know. Jungwoo, will you be treating me?” 

 “Jungwoo? Kyungsoo, it’s me, Jongin!” 

“Jongin? Why is everything hurt?” Kyungsoo’s faint voice sent a pang of guilt to Jongin as he was part of the reason why they were in the situation. 

“I had to pull you, and you fell…” he tried using a different reply than before. Kyungsoo was probably disorientating but he wanted to keep him awake. 

“Oh, yes. I fell for him, Sungheon. You would have liked him if you two met…” Kyungsoo’s voice trailed off. 

“Excuse me, what’s happened?” Jongin addressed the EMT who seemed to be too relaxed, considering the circumstances. He was also weirded out as they had not arrived at the hospital yet.

“He had a concussion, so it’s pretty normal for people to speak gibberish or mistaking someone with another,” she replied rather nonchalantly. 

Then the ambulance abruptly stopped, and the doors opened from the outside by two hospital workers. Jongin followed them inside, where Kyungsoo was taken to a bed and the ER doctor pulled the curtains to perform further treatment.

Meanwhile, a nurse persuaded him to sit after he calmed down a bit, for her to take his vitals, check for any signs of injuries, however apart from a few scratches, he did not suffer other harm. Nonetheless, for precautionary purposes, he was given a bed at the observation ward.

After what seemed like hours, a doctor holding a clipboard with catlike features and baby blue hair approached him. What was it with people and a wide spectrum of hair colours today?

“Mr Kim Jongin?”

“Yes, doctor!”

“The other patient, Mr Do Kyungsoo, is gradually awake now if you want to see him?” He was notified. Jongin did not wait and ran straight to Kyungsoo. 

“Kyungsoo?”

“Jongin, can you please help me to sit up?” Jongin never knew how relieved he was to be asked such a mundane question.

“How are you feeling?” He remained seated on the bed after assisting him.

“My head’s throbbing, my body’s sore, but I’ll manage. You?” Kyungsoo asked with concern. Jongin pulled him in a tight embrace as a sign of contentment and perhaps channeling other unspoken emotions. Kyungsoo returned the hug and rubbed Jongin’s back, which brought small joy to his heart. He lost track of time as they stayed in each others’ arms until his mobile rang.

He released Kyungsoo but kept one of his arms on his waist as he retrieved his phone to find an unknown number on the screen. The close proximity between them meant that Kyungsoo was able to see his screen too, and recognised the caller.

“It’s Chanyeol. My battery must have drained. May I?” He requested permission. Jongin nodded and handed him the device. Just when he was about to slide off the bed, Kyungsoo rested his head in the crook of Jongin’s neck. He swiped the screen to answer the call.

“Chanyeol, ....”

“Oh my god, Soo! Dad, I got him. Where are you? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you, wait, Dad, wait!” 

“Has something happened to you? Why are you answering another man’s phone? Kyungsoo!”

“Hey Seungjin, is this how you speak to your elder? I’m actually in the hospital.”

“Hospital? What hospital? Which hospital? Why? He’s in the hospital!...” Kyungsoo did not have to put the phone to his ear to listen as the commotion ensued at the Park’s residence, all of which were audible to Jongin. Kyungsoo tiredly took the phone away from his ear as a series of questions were either being shouted, or his name being called by both Chanyeol and another man.

“Sorry, they’re just too loud,” Kyungsoo justified his actions before bringing the mic close to his mouth and replied, “I’m in the emergency ward at the Yongsan Hospital, and I’m injured.” Without waiting for a response, he disconnected the call and sighed.

“This is nice. You smelled nice,” Kyungsoo complimented, but he stayed still. Jongin would have loved it if he were to trace the origin of the perfume, which was behind his ear. But first, he needed clarification.

“What’s your relationship with your lawyer? Are you dating him?”

“Chanyeol’s a child. Even though technically not my child. He and his family are the closest things I have as a family.” Kyungsoo clarified.

“Okay…” Jongin accepted the answer.

“Are you seeing anyone?” The question whispered, triggering an ASMR reaction to Jongin’s senses. He separated their bodies and his eyes licked every bit of Kyungsoo’s face. 

“I am not, but I’m about to ask someone out. Will you go for a proper date with me, Kyungsoo? A safer one preferably?” 

“I’d love to,” he responded with a heart-shaped smile. Jongin swallowed hard, controlling his urges from devouring those kissable lips.

“Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?” He softly asked.

“Let’s just laze around your house?” Kyungsoo suggested.

“Sounds like a plan,” he responded, inching their faces closer.

♡♡♡

“This is so much fun! I can’t remember when was the last time I’ve had time off from the office. Well, probably never!” Minseok giddily exclaimed when he sat next to Jongdae, who handed him an ice cream as a reward. Both Baekhyun and Luna leaned back on their seats, consuming the soft serve with happy faces.

The internal audit was scheduled in a week, and if they left it to both Kyungsoo and Jongin, they would probably take it at their own pace to admit to their feelings. Desperate time calls for desperate measures, Baekhyun justified.

♡♡♡

Finale

✖✖✖

Fairly (Odd) Family

“So what’s the meaning of this, Soo? You have injuries! Look, you have scraped your knees and elbows. There’s some blood on your trousers where they cut it to treat the wounds too. I’ve never seen you bleeding!” Chanyeol not only pointed to where the cuts were but peeled off the waterproof bandage to sneak a peek. Jongin hissed as he witnessed the behaviour, but nonetheless dumbfounded with how they reacted.

A middle-aged woman who introduced herself as Chanyeol’s mother carefully cleaned Kyungsoo’s face with wet wipes while ignoring the others. A man who looked like an older version of Chanyeol scrutinised some papers on a clipboard that contained all the medical treatments Kyungsoo had received earlier. How did he obtain permission to review or even get access to the records in the first place?

“It said here, ‘injuries sustained due to near-road traffic collisions’. How on earth did that happen? Did you have anything to do with this, young man?” Jongin suddenly felt threatened by the accusation.

“Seungjin! I was nearly hit by a rider who ran a red light, and Jongin actually pulled me at the right time. If anything, he saved me,” Kyungsoo called out. 

“Ahh… I’m sorry. Perhaps later you can do a full event recounts? I’d like to order an investigation to eliminate any possibility that this is an intentional attack on our Kyungsoo.”

“Give that young man a break, all of you! Go and wait somewhere, or process the paperwork to have him discharged or something. It’s getting stuffy here.” Chanyeol’s mother gave the order, and both his husband and son scampered to leave the ward. She sighed while collecting the used wipes to bin them. Jongin rose from his seat, intending to probably go to the cafeteria for some strong coffee.

“Thanks, Youngmi.” There it was again, Jongin did not imagine it after all. The way Kyungsoo addressed the Park family was not rude, but similar to adults or parents to their children. 

✖✖✖

First Date

“Have you ever thought of maybe opening a restaurant? With your skills, people would pay to reserve a table.” Jongin inquired while wiping the surface near the kitchen sink. They had just finished lunch and washed the dishes. Kyungsoo handed him a bowl of assorted freshly sliced fruits while he took some bottled water to join him in the living room.

“I have actually worked in F&B before, kind of. Preparing meals for school. It was tiring,” he plopped beside him on the couch. When he reached the fruits with the picks, Jongin opened his mouth asking to be fed. They took turns to feed each other while watching a variety show on Netflix. 

“Can you please give me a tour of this labyrinth you called home?” Kyungsoo requested soon after they finished the bowl. Jongin tilted his head to one side with an amused smile. Surely one of a kind. So he did the tour à la real estate reality TV program, complete with commentary and showmanship. His audience was entertained. 

When it was the bedroom’s turn, he found Kyungsoo staring at the king-size bed just as he was about to show him a hidden panel that stored a projector that could transform the room into a mini theatre. He went to Kyungsoo’s side and reached the tips of his fingers.

“I’m giving you the permission to do anything you want with me. But let’s only do things that you’re comfortable with.” 

“What if the things I want to do with you aren’t the things you wanted?” The beautiful man contested. 

“You have no idea that half of the things I want to do may require your signature on a consent form,” he teased and stole a peck on Kyungsoo’s lips. They were so addictive. One kiss was never enough. 

“Can I--” Jongin extended his index finger and placed it in front of the lips he just kissed.

“The answer is always yes.”  

✖✖✖

Full Disclosure

“Will you promise to keep an open mind and reserve any judgements, also to let me finish my story, and lastly to allow me to present the proof before you make any decision?”

“I sense some really heavy and serious stuff coming, but yes, I will,” Jongin answered.

“I hope that the information you’re about to be disclosed to will not leave this room. They’re for your eyes and ears only. In exchange, I’ll promise you that I shall not judge whatever decisions that you’re going to make, whether you’re going to believe me or not, which will also determine the fate of our relationship. I can assure you that if the inevitable happens, we’ll just go our separate ways quietly.”

“Have you not the slightest trust in me, love?”

“I trust you, Jongin. That’s why I’m placing my life in your hands.” Kyungsoo took a deep breath before he started. 

“I was an anomaly before I met you…”

After finishing his chronicles, Kyungsoo watched the way Jongin’s gloved hands carefully leafed the pages of the ageing documents. He had Chanyeol transported all the evidence to his apartment in preparation for this. Since after he disclosed his most guarded secret, Jongin had been at it for four hours now. He was currently reviewing the papers and documents in the box dated 1948~1973 (Do Hyunsoo). 

“I’m here if you have any questions,” he reminded him. Jongin hummed an answer. He was taking this surprisingly well, Kyungsoo discerned. Or was he?

Jongin cracked his neck and slightly squeezed his nape. He closed the photo albums, and although he still had other documents and boxes to sift through, by the looks of it, he either had had enough or he needed a break. Kyungsoo braced himself. 

“Everything makes sense now,” Jongin concluded. If Kyungsoo bulges his eyes any bigger they might fall off the socket. 

“Wait, what?”

“I noticed how you communicate with Chanyeol and his family, especially with his parents. Their protective and yet respectful manner towards you. And the way you carry yourself as if you’re an old man trapped in a young man’s body. You’re the most sensible and lovable person I have ever met. Do Seungsoo, Do Hyunsoo, Do Jungsoo, Do Minsoo, I love them all. I love you, Do Kyungsoo,” Jongin declared as he held Kyungsoo’s hands.

“Say that again,” he demanded.

“I love you.” 

He scrambled and straddled on Jongin’s lap, pulling his face in his palms. Jongin’s hands secured his position as he locked them at the small of his back. They started with tiny kisses that turned more intense with each breath they took. The shorts he was wearing, and pyjama pants that Jongin had worn left nothing to the imagination. Kyungsoo hated the desperate friction between their clothed erections.

“Bed, now, please.”

✖✖✖

Fancy Tours

“So, where are we heading today, my lovely tour guide?” Jongin strapped the seatbelt while Kyungsoo adjusted the seat and rear-view mirror. 

“We’re going to Dosang Seowon in Andong. I’m going to introduce you to a very old friend of mine, Toegye,” Kyungsoo beamed to his boyfriend.

“I can’t wait to meet him even when I can see him every day in my wallet!” Jongin playfully responded, which earned him a belly laugh from Kyungsoo.

✖✖✖

Fallacy?

“I don’t know how to further interpret the contents of this journal without sounding as if they either kept a red-crowned crane as a pet, or if they were referring to someone and addressed the person as a red-crowned crane. Both of which make no sense at all!” The young historian complained to her fellow researcher.

“But you’re aware of seonbi and their quirky ways of writing and love of animals? They might compare something that had a sense of constancy with the bird,” her friend proposed.

“No, no. This is too literal to be taken that way. For example, ‘The red-crowned crane is indeed a godsend. Our province has long suffered from a drought that caused famine and devastation. Upon his arrival, rain fell down for the first time in a year that the students went out of their classes to join the people from the village in celebration. We even spotted a rainbow.’ Or this one here, ‘As much as I am sad and have grown attached to our red-crowned crane, he must continue on to his journey. I am envious of his next master’. Unless there’s another spelling or characters used in Hanja for ‘uri durumi’ ?” She asked after reading samples of the sentences.

“Could this be an erroneous journal entry? Have we carbon-dated the documents to verify their authenticity?” 

“We ran the test twice and both were consistent.” Both of them slumped in their seats.

fin.