[CYM] 5 – Ancestral Traitor

During the Demon Suppression War, it was Hong Unyeong who subdued a great demon harbouring centuries of evil, but ironically, she also released it.

It was said she felt compassion for it. What could have made Hong Unyeong, of all people, lose her reason over such a despicable being?

The exorcists who sacrificed their flesh to save the country from calamity were left in a ridiculous state. The listeners, including Beodeul, found it absurd, let alone those who suffered the consequence. They might have been too aggrieved to even cross the Samdocheon River.*

*삼도천도 River of Three Crossings, refers to the river that souls cross in the afterlife. It’s analogous to the River Styx in Greek mythology.

The ungrateful demon, once released, attacked Hong Unyeong, destroyed over 300 homes, and ate the king’s parents and princess before it was subdued. It was a demon-subduing magic that cost Hong Unyeong her life.

With the royal family nearly wiped out, her family was branded as traitors, equivalent to selling out the country. Thus began the tragic history of the Punglim Hong family.

‘You must never reveal your origins. Take good care of your hair.’

In her family lineage, it was rare for a child to be born with fiery red hair, and she happened to be that child. She had been dyeing her hair black since she was young enough to hide it.

“Haa.”

She sighed, and sat down, mulling over her mother’s admonition.

Now seventeen, the blood boiling within her urged her to fulfill her duty as a shaman. In reality, she was living day by day, struggling not to be discovered while pretending to be a boy.

She had abandoned her given name, Hong Sahye, and simply went by her childhood nickname, Beodeul. It was indeed a strange twist of fate.

She glanced at her reflection in the spring water. Her skin was smooth, and her face was pretty without any flaws, resembling her mother. However, her eyebrows, painted black like caterpillars, and her short hair made her look unmistakably like a boy.

“Should I just tan my skin to a dark brown and settle it?”

Every time she was teased for her pale skin, as if she were not a girl, her heart would shrink in discomfort.

“It would be nice to wash my hair in the cool stream water.”

Unfortunately, judging by the direction of the rising sun, it seemed she had no time to indulge.

“Let’s just chop another fifty pieces of wood before leaving.”

She stopped her wandering thoughts and swallowed her rice ball.

With a swoosh, she picked up her wide-bladed sword. Fortunately, even though she was not skilled in martial arts, her ability to handle the sword was well-suited to her, as if to prove her lineage from the Hong family.

The tall trees were swiftly cut down, and in no time, they turned into bundles of firewood. She carried the wood and went around the village to deliver them.

“Ah, the beautiful Beodeul, I’m always so thankful.”

Where all these bundles of firewood were headed was, out of ten bundles made, two would go to her house, and the remaining eight would be delivered for free to the yards of her neighbours.

Because her mother liked to spread her wealth like Master Ki? Because her house was well-off?

No. It was because she and her daughter, being strangers, wanted to blend in with the community of Muritmaegol.

“Beodeul, if you have time, could you help with the fieldwork? Makson hurt his toe, so we’re short on hands. With a strong young person like you helping, it would be perfect.”

“Yes, I’ll do that. Ma’am. How long should I stay?”

She couldn’t figure out how they saw strength in her skinny wrists, but she suppressed any complaint and smiled kindly.

“Just come before the evening.”

The people of Muritmaegol had not taken kindly to the mother and daughter when they suddenly settled here a year ago, due to their exclusivity towards outsiders.

They faced so much rejection, in the first few months, it was a struggle living off scraps of attention. Open stares, whispers, and queue-jumping by the women and elders made her mother suffer. There was no cooperation, and they couldn’t even dream of seeing a feast.

Thus, she and her mother took on all sorts of menial tasks for the village for free. Their home was always piled high with sewing to do, and during the farming season, they ran around until their feet were raw.

They did everything from telling fortunes to taking care of babies, anything to build a relationship with the neighbours. Now, it became habitual, and the villagers frequently demanded their services without offering anything in return.

Yet, it was a relief that they were no longer looked upon with disdainful eyes. Even though they lived miserably in the outskirts of the village, now she and her mother were treated with the respect of proper citizens of Muritmaegol.