Before I End Up as Rabbit Stew - Chapter 20

All the knowledge she had learned at Oreum Hall was quite useful. Nothing was useless in life, and it often served as a guide when she felt lost and confused.

But she hadn’t learned what to do in situations like this. What do you do when a fully-grown man, as towering as a mountain, cries? How do you comfort someone shedding tears like chicken droppings? She had never even considered such questions. Though, whether Dongbangsak would have answered properly even if she had asked was another question entirely. Yimae was utterly bewildered, feeling as if her brain was freezing.

“Why, why are you crying?”

As Yimae asked, Heukryong’s sobs grew louder. She was so dumbfounded that she forgot about the mud and sat down on the ground. Sensing Yimae lowering herself, Heukryong lowered one hand, following her movement. However, his other hand remained covering his eyes as he sobbed.

Yimae felt a surge of irritation. She abruptly pulled down the arm of Heukryong that was holding her. Without resistance, Heukryong plopped down opposite Yimae.

“I asked why you’re crying?”

She pulled away the remaining hand covering his eyes. Heukryong couldn’t immediately lift his reddened eyes.

“Say something.”

He swallowed his sobs. Heukryong was currently wearing only a single layer of simple clothing without even a jangpo, and his sorrowful eyes were utterly innocent. The alcohol had loosened his facial features, making him look gentler and softer than usual. Yimae thought he looked like a child and grabbed Heukryong’s arm again as he tried to wipe away his tears.

“You’ll get mud on yourself.”

“Willow…”

“Willow?”

Heukryong nodded, his face drenched. Yimae couldn’t understand what he was saying, so she leaned closer to him.

“Willow? This willow?”

She pointed to the bizarre trees scattered throughout the backyard.

“Not that one.”

Heukryong shook his head, the tip of his nose red.

“Weeping willow.”

Hearing his words, Yimae’s face brightened. She slapped his knee with her palm and said,

“The tree in my quarters? The willow tree?”

Heukryong reached out and pulled Yimae’s braided hair. He repeatedly stroked the braided part with his muddy hands. Yimae frowned again, hearing the squelching sound.

“I said you’ll get mud on it.”

“How vibrant the color was, how beautiful its form.”

Where had she heard this before? After thinking for a moment, she realized it was the nonsense she had spouted at the inn earlier.

“How could you tear down such a tree…”

Heukryong began to sob again. It seemed he was reminded of the tree by the willow branch used to braid Yimae’s hair. Yimae clicked her tongue.

“Didn’t you tear it down first, Heukryong?”

“I only tore down one!”

Yimae decided not to argue with a drunk person. The sun was setting, and she hadn’t done any field work today. She had even bought seedlings, but they would be useless if she didn’t water the soil. Now that she knew why he was crying, she planned to soothe him appropriately and find her way.

“Okay, okay, I tore it all down.”

“How could you make something so vulgar.”

“Vulgar?”

Yimae stood up and reached out both hands to Heukryong. Heukryong stood up obediently, just as he had sat down. This man becomes like a child when he’s drunk. He cries and whines, but he’s compliant, yet his build is like a main gate.

“What’s vulgar?”

“Your clothes. The leaf clothes.”

“Do you know how long it took to make those?”

Yimae carried the luggage in one arm and held Heukryong with the other. She slowly moved forward, leading Heukryong. Anyway, she had to pass completely through the backyard to get to Yongju Pavilion.

“It’s a precious tree… and you…”

Heukryong sobbed with each step. Yimae shook her head, looking at the backyard gradually darkening. She had an ominous feeling that they wouldn’t get through even by dawn. She began to appease Heukryong roughly.

“Is that tree so precious to you?”

“It is precious, it is. That’s why I only gave you one branch.”

“You have that one branch with you.”

The willow branch was indeed only one, remaining in Yimae’s braided hair. Thinking about it, she felt a little sorry for the bare weeping willow tree, so Yimae added,

“When spring returns, new shoots will sprout again in due course. Don’t worry too much.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’ll even give it some medicinal fertilizer in the spring.”

Stepping on the damp mud, Yimae thought of spring. She wouldn’t be here next spring. By the time the weeping willow dangled new branches and wrapped its thick trunk with green leaves, she would be a complete human, living elsewhere.

A place where she could escape the palace, a maze surrounded by dozens of buildings and even more walls, and live freely like the wind and waves.

Heukryong’s back of the hand brushed against her. It was because he had moved his hand down her arm. A damp hand, covered in something that could be mud or tears, dug between Yimae’s fingers. For some reason, Yimae added,

“Wherever I am, I will definitely do that.”

And she first clasped Heukryong’s hand. The two of them didn’t speak anymore. Yimae didn’t let go of his hand and continued walking. Heukryong’s sobbing subsided.

“This is really the limit.”

It was an hour later when they arrived at the Pigeon House Pavilion. The rotten trees bent at strange angles all looked the same, and the mud that made their feet sink deeply slowed them down.

Entering the pavilion, Yimae threw down the luggage and collapsed in the courtyard. She couldn’t move a single finger. Seeing her let go of the hand she had been holding, Heukryong quietly looked at his own hand. He sat down, pulling his knees to his chest. Yimae quickly changed the subject, worried that Heukryong would start crying again like a child who had lost his mother on an outing.

“We have to water the field here today. The sun has already set, so what are we going to do?”

The soil had to be evenly wet to plant the seedlings. That way, the soil, softened by the water, would gently wrap around the roots without damaging them.

“I’ll do it.”

Because he stepped forward confidently, Yimae thought he had some brilliant idea. With Heukryong’s spiritual power, it might be possible to draw water from a nearby well or pond all at once. She thought he might flood the field with a large wave, quickly soaking the soil. She wondered if she would see the aspect of a great guardian deity in this. Yimae looked at Heukryong with an expectant face.

“Is this how you do it?”

However, Heukryong shattered all expectations and squatted by a spring the size of a gourd. He cupped his two palms together and scooped up water from the spring. Then he repeated the process of pouring it onto the nearby furrow.

“Like this?”

Water trickled through the gaps between his palms. He was throwing an insufficient amount of water onto the soil, far too little to soak the field.

Yimae laughed as if she were about to suffocate.

“At this rate, will you be done by tomorrow morning?”

She tilted her head back and laughed, but what was this heartache again? Yimae felt a dull, constricting pain and frowned unexpectedly. No, was this even pain? Her heart felt like it was buzzing like a cicada at the end of summer, and she wondered if something was wrong, but it soon softened and crumbled away.

“I’ll do it by tomorrow morning.”

Seeing Heukryong smile faintly as he said that, Yimae felt the pain again. She felt like she was about to cry or sigh. For some reason, she also wanted to hit a tree trunk or the ground with all her might and scream.

She lay still for a while, gathering her emotions that she couldn’t define. In fact, she was too exhausted to move.

Suddenly, Heukryong stopped carrying water. He sat down on the ground, his buttocks touching the floor, and said quietly to Yimae,

“It’s hard.”

Yimae looked up at the sky and burst out laughing again. Her exhausted, cracked laughter filled the Pigeon House Pavilion. She covered her face with one arm. She felt like she could understand why Heukryong had covered his face with his arm while crying earlier. People have emotions they don’t want to show to others.

“Shall we do it together?”

“Okay.”

And there were also emotions that arose within oneself, but one couldn’t understand why they arose. Yimae took a deep breath and got up. If she lay around lazily, she felt like she would have to acknowledge these paltry emotions.

“The one who does more wins.”

“Good.”

Yimae squatted by the spring like Heukryong. Then he followed Yimae. The two of them began to scoop water with their hands and pour it onto the field. Yimae diligently shook off her thoughts while performing actions that were of little help to the field work.

“I’m at a disadvantage. You’re closer to the field.”

“Don’t act like that with those hands like pot lids.”

To start liking a man. It was impossible.

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