[CYM] 27 – Forbidden Territory

Happiness. Well, maybe some would think that way, even knowing the young master’s true circumstances.

“It’s not necessarily like that.”

“Huh?”

“The elders make you earn their respect even more. Yunhu, you don’t like studying.”

The child blushed at being called out.

“You need to have at least one skill to be treated like a noble.”

“Still...”

“Otherwise, they won’t treat you like a person at all. Have your parents ever not treated you like their child? No, they haven’t.”

The naive child quickly looked dejected. It seemed that even someone as unmaterialistic as Yunhu wasn’t immune to jealousy and longing for the children of nobility who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths.

“Otherwise, don’t wait for the next life, just make enough money to buy a noble title.”

“Oh, right. That’s also a possibility.”

Yunhu blew his nose and nodded seriously, and it was pitiful to see him take it so literally.

Her friend wasn’t particularly bright or quick-witted, nor strong, handsome, or outstanding in personality.

He had a potato-like cute face, an innocent nose, and eyes round like a calf’s. He wasn’t the kind to struggle fiercely to make ends meet, nor was he ambitious or courageous.

Still, he treated his parents well. If filial piety was the measure, he was exceedingly so, if being tied to his mother’s apron strings was the case, then that was true too. Whoever would be Yunhu’s wife was likely to end up with a pumpkin instead of rice in their storeroom.

In any case, he was an ordinary country boy without any particular sharp edges, and in an era where official positions could be bought with money, even such a child could rise the ranks. As for the likelihood of that happening, given hir easy-going nature, it was probably slim.

Children from poor villages learn to count before they can read. Yunhu barely knew how to write his own name, and although Beodeul was not quite at that level, compared to her mother, she was considerably uneducated. Even the little bit of writing she learned faded away since there was no use for it.

Nevertheless, her family had a strong foundation. Though tainted now, they once had honour and lived as comfortably as any other noble family, coating their bellies with oil.

Her mother was as cultivated and knowledgeable as any lady from a noble house, skilled in writing, embroidery, and poetry, a woman of many talents, yet she chose not to teach her any of those things. A shaman should be able to read ancient texts and know how to draw talismans, after all.

Reflecting on it, it seemed her mother never intended to raise her as a shaman from the moment she was born.

Yunhu first learned to wield a slingshot rather than a brush, to count rather than read characters. Both her mother and she, not being shrewd merchants, were often cheated, but it was Yunhu who taught her how to gauge the market and haggle.

“Did you practice, Beodeul?” Yunhu would ask her when she was full.

He would take her to a clearing and hand her a small slingshot. It was a place where the servants of the Ki household chopped firewood, with no restrictions on who could enter.

“Didn’t I tell you to practice hitting targets first?”

“Isn’t it quite different from a bow?”

“Not so much.”

Having filled her belly with meat, she confidently took the slingshot from her. Yunhu pointed to a notch in the tree.

“Moving targets are too difficult, start with hitting the centre of the tree. I’ll show you.”

The stone Yunhu shot hit the target spot on. It looked easy enough. She was so sure she could do it, too, that she imitated him, but somehow she ended up flinging the slingshot over the fence.

“Wow, Beodeul, you’re strong.”

“Wait here. I’ll go get it back.”

There was a small hole in the fence. Wondering if she should go through it, she scratched her head and squeezed through with some effort.

“Where is it?”

Even in a familiar grandee’s house, there are places one should not trespass. She guessed this was the place she had only glanced over the fence before, the garden leading to the pavilion where the grandee whispered with mysterious visitors.

A fork in the path.

To the right was the grandee’s flower garden. To the left was the forest where the Ki brothers played like deer, also the grandee’s private property.

Either way was not ideal. The Ki grandee had sternly warned her mother and her, including the servants, not to even linger near the pavilion side. Stepping there without permission could mean serious consequences.

She wanted to get back quickly, but no matter how much she looked around, the cursed slingshot, as if it had grown legs and run away, was nowhere to be seen.