1440 - Chapter 24

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 24
Behind them, Heo Eun stood clutching her sister’s hand, dazed. Yeon Su’s fingers brushed lightly over the young girl’s hair in a gentle caress.
The ritual contained no loud instruments, no shaman’s incantations. Su Gyun, bewildered about whether this even qualified as a proper ceremony, received an explanation from Yeon Su.
“The Jino-gwi Gut—the ritual to console the spirits of the dead and guide them to paradise—I’ll perform separately, so don’t worry about it.”
He drew out the Red Mirror Stone and traced a talisman across Su Gyun’s and Du Hui’s backs, then inscribed the same Chinese character in the center of the classroom.
The scene resembled what he’d seen on the day he first came to this school, yet it felt entirely different. Both Du Hui and Su Gyun distinctly sensed the air within the classroom settling, clarifying.
***
After having the two bow once more toward the Ritual Altar, Yeon Su stepped back and instructed them to open the front door and exit. Without a sound, they quietly pushed the door open.
“Open it wide.”
At his word, they shoved the door fully open. In that instant, a sharp, frigid wind cut between them.
The two, startled, stood staring at each other with blank expressions as Yeon Su calmly began tidying the space.
Leaving the Ritual Altar and the Chinese character on the floor undisturbed, he gathered up the Jae-ung—the straw figure containing strands of hair and fingernail clippings from the three club members—then collected his sword and lantern before departing the classroom.
“Haunted house experiences. Please don’t do that sort of thing.”
O Sang Hyung, the bearded man said to be Yeon Su’s informant, finally spoke up.
Neither Du Hui nor Su Gyun felt entirely guiltless, but they bowed their heads in acknowledgment.
When Yeon Su assured them there would be no further harm coming to those involved, Su Gyun caught his sleeve.
“So Jin Hyung will wake up now?!”
“Yes. I’ll visit his parents directly, and things will proceed gradually, so don’t worry too much.”
“Ah……”
Su Gyun exhaled deeply in relief, then staggered as if dizzy and sank to the floor.
Yeon Su found him remarkable. The boy didn’t spare a thought for what curse might befall him—he worried only for his friend. Such singular devotion was rare and striking.
“You don’t care what happens to yourself?”
At the question, Su Gyun neither shook nor nodded his head, only gazed down at the floor. As he thought of the ashes he’d been cradling, he finally lifted his gaze to meet Yeon Su’s eyes.
“I chose this. So it’s fine. If Jin Hyung really gets better, then it’s fine.”
At those words, Yeon Su’s impassive expression softened into a small smile. He brushed Su Gyun’s shoulder lightly.
“You’ll be fine. Not just you—Du Hui and Jin Hyung will all be fine, so don’t worry.”
Su Gyun’s eyes widened as if questioning his sincerity. Instead of answering again, Yeon Su turned his gaze toward Du Hui.
“When you come to the Baek Household, say exactly what I tell you. You can act, can’t you?”
Du Hui found his reasoning absurd—as if enduring near-fatal danger meant handling a little acting—but she nodded anyway.
She knew that without this man, the probability of resolving matters at the Baek Household would have been zero. Everything was unfolding because of Yeon Su standing before her, so she had no choice but to honor his request.
“What should I say?”
Eager to practice, she received the exact words from Yeon Su, who smiled gently as he explained.
The content made little sense to Du Hui, but she affirmed she would do it. All three also had to promise to withdraw from school for the rest of the semester and spend it in a city other than Seoul.
The ritual, which had begun when the villagers slept, ended when they emerged to do their early morning work. Yet no one at the school, positioned at the village’s entrance, saw them leave.
***
“Yes. Thank you for your hard work. Getting the information so quickly made it possible.”
[Finding the birth time is my specialty. Damn pests. By the way, did young Deok Woo settle in alright?]
“Yes. He grumbled about having to leave for work right away, but he went in.”
[Ah, what hard work our Deok Woo does. Anyway, you’ve worked hard.]
“And please prepare some Red Ginseng for the ladies who connected us to the Baek Household—on my behalf. Tell them I’ll visit when I go to Seoul soon. Yes. Yes, get going now.”
Taking the winding path to the Annex rather than through the Main Residence, Yeon Su ended his brief call with O Sang Hyung, sharing that one phase of work had been completed.
He would need to return soon to perform the Jino-gwi Gut and cleanse the village, but that posed no problem. He could bear any inconvenience. It was something he’d already resolved himself to do.
Still, he had the leisure to prepare the man’s breakfast tomorrow with his own hands. At the thought of eating together in the morning, spending quiet hours side by side, a smile spread naturally across his face.
But that smile didn’t last long. The moment he stepped into the Annex, a deliberately artificial and cloying scent hit him, and his brow furrowed sharply.
It was as if someone had sprayed incense—a sweet fragrance permeated the air that had been clean. The same scent Baek Yeon Hyung used whenever he visited this place.
Yeon Su strode firmly to the door of the man’s room. The fragrance was emanating from within.
“May I come in?”
After a moment, the door opened slowly. The man who had opened it himself was wearing the clothes he’d worn before—that thin, translucent Long Robe Yeon Su had seen on his first day back, the one that didn’t even look like proper clothing.
Yeon Su’s words caught in his throat. Despite his own instruction that no one should be brought into the Annex, someone had entered anyway and set up this “Misfortune Absorption staging,” which infuriated him.
Of course, it was he who had said they’d be using the Misfortune Absorption today. But the irritation came from someone burning this cloying scent under the guise of “setting the mood,” dressing the man in this flimsy garment in November’s cold, and leaving him to wait. It was maddening.
And he was most ashamed of himself for being moved by the subtly exposed skin beneath that sheer robe.
He smiled, trying to calm the turmoil within. He wasn’t foolish enough to vent his complicated, misplaced anger onto this innocent man.
“Aren’t you cold?”
He wrapped his arm around the man’s shoulders as he stood uncomfortably, drawing him into the room. Then he sat him on the bedding and extinguished the Incense Stick that had been burning.
It was almost laughable—using an Incense Stick instead of proper incense in a shaman’s home.
He switched on the soft lighting he’d brought before, cracked the back door to let the harsh scent dissipate, and pulled over a discarded blanket to drape across the man’s shoulders.
The man’s eyes peered past Yeon Su’s shoulder, as if checking whether a calamity had attached itself to him.
Yeon Su accepted even that gaze gladly, taking the man’s hand and lifting it. He rolled back the sleeve of the translucent Long Robe and examined the inside of his wrist—the faint scar that had lingered was now completely healed.
As Yeon Su rose and settled onto the bedding beside him, the man shifted his body back, making space. But instead of pushing him down, Yeon Su merely traced his fingertips gently across the man’s knuckles.
“These past few days have been demanding work. You must be very tired.”
The man nodded as if he understood. After watching Yeon Su for a moment, he drew a deep breath—the kind that comes before a momentous decision. Then he reached for the fastenings of his own garment.
Yeon Su caught his hand and pulled it away. Instead, he guided the man’s palm to rest atop his own head.
“So I’m asking you—caress it gently. As if to say you’ve suffered enough.”
At Yeon Su’s words, the man’s eyes blinked slowly. He looked down as though asking what on earth caressing meant—though Yeon Su knew it wasn’t a genuine question. A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
Years ago, whenever Yeon Su fell gravely ill as a child, he would sneak away to the Annex and hide. Each time, this man would find him, stroke his hair, and whisper that it would be all right. The man standing before him now was that very person.
Yet now he blinked those clear eyes as if he had no idea how to caress anyone at all. Yeon Su found it unbearably sorrowful—that this guileless face could conceive of no way to care for another except through sex. The thought wounded him deeply.
But that sorrow faded quickly. As the man’s hand began to move with deliberate slowness, Yeon Su felt it: the hand trembled with worry.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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