Before I End Up as Rabbit Stew - Chapter 3
Beneath the cassia tree, a lush early summer had arrived. The reliably heated vegetation exhaled a long, green cry. At this time of year, the Hangaes diligently rode various secret crafts and shaved ice. From ancient times, the Moon Palace had been used as a tea garden where many gods of the celestial realm would stop by to quench their thirst. While the Hangaes mostly took charge of serving and preparing, simple labor such as fire-making, cleaning, and other menial tasks sometimes fell to the spiritual beasts.
“Speaking of which, what kind of spiritual beast are we?”
Yimae, who was standing on two feet and pounding the rice cake mortar, grumbled. Across from her, Chaesang, who was pounding the mortar in time with her, laughed silently.
“What you just said had a nice rhythm.”
“What good is a nice rhythm? Am I going to pluck a tune on a gayageum~ or swirl a melody on a daegeum~?”
Yimae spoke in a playful, song-like voice. Then, as if her temper had flared up, she slammed the pestle into the mortar. And then, the little moon rabbit sat down on the cassia tree root, which snaked across the ground like a giant crawling snake, and sighed deeply.
“They say a spiritual beast is an auspicious creature that even the king cannot treat carelessly. And yet, I have to do this rice cake pounding for the rest of my life.”
Because Yimae had stopped the mortar, Chaesang, who had also been unable to work, quietly sat down as well. She neatly placed the pestle next to the mortar and added her thoughts.
“This isn’t where the king is, but where the Celestial Emperor resides, so there’s nothing we can do about it.”
It had been ten years since they graduated from Oreum Hall, the highest educational institution in the celestial realm. During that time, Yimae and Chaesang had to pound rice cake ingredients day and night under the shade of the cassia tree. In the spring, there was a lot of rice cake to pound to make hwajeon (flower pancakes), and in the summer, to make sudan (millet dumplings) or wonsobyeong (glutinous rice balls). In the fall, they said they were making bukkumi (pan-fried sweet pancakes), and in the winter, they said they were making chapssaltteok (glutinous rice cakes), so the mortar never had a moment to rest.
“It’s not for nothing that humans say the heavens are heartless, is it? What do they know when they say that? The heavens are indeed heartless.”
Tender grass was sprouting between the tree roots. Yimae carefully avoided the grass that was about to bloom and only picked the young grass that was easy to chew, putting it in her mouth.
The lifespan of a spiritual beast is not fixed. In other words, they never die of old age. There is an abundance of food in the Moon Palace, so it is not easy to starve to death. There is no one so ignorant as to catch a moon rabbit, cut off its ears, and cut open its belly, so sudden death is unlikely to be part of their fate.
What good is being an immortal spiritual beast if all you do is pound rice cakes forever? Yimae sighed ruefully, but continued to pluck and eat the surrounding grass. She needed to maintain her strength to work. She was a herbivore, so she was hungry as soon as she turned around.
“I’ve been thinking that way lately too.”
Chaesang plucked a handful of tender grass and handed half of it to her.
“If only we had been born as humans, we could have become the wives of ordinary men and lived a short life in happiness.”
Yimae, with grass in her mouth, lay down on her back with her fingers interlaced above her. The Milky Way, where the scales of mermaids fell like rain, sparkled as always.
The sun chariot did not pass through the Moon Palace. This was because it was not compatible with the energy of the moon. The calm and quietly shining navy-blue sky was sickeningly boring.
The wife of an ordinary man. She didn’t desire such a thing. All Yimae wanted was freedom.
Humans lived freely like clouds and streams with a limited amount of time. They were not afraid of the passage of time like flowing water. Yimae envied and longed for that. She would give up eternal life if she could only escape the endless pounding.
One of the cassia tree branches slowly came down. Golden letters were engraved on the leaves closest to the ground. When Chaesang held up the leaves, the branch shook slightly and then returned to its original position. This was how the Hangaes gave orders to the moon rabbits who were far away from the Moon Palace.
“Let’s get up. They need Yeonbi mugwort rice cakes.”
“Why do they put that tasteless, sour grass in rice cakes?”
Yimae, grumbling, jumped into a large hole dug under the cassia tree. It was full of various medicinal herbs to be pounded together in the rice cakes.
The Hangaes would sometimes obtain precious medicinal herbs such as udumbara flowers or hori vines, but most of the grass was collected by Yimae and Chaesang themselves, running around the moon in all directions. What they couldn’t collect, they even cultivated by tilling a garden behind the cassia tree.
“They should give us more help!”
Even though she was full of annoyance, Yimae accurately located the Yeonbi mugwort among the many medicinal herb drawers. This Yeonbi mugwort was a truly funny thing. It made the complexion as clear as jade and brightened the color under the eyes and lips, but if the amount was used incorrectly, it was a deadly poison. High-ranking gods’ consorts occasionally sought out Yeonbi mugwort rice cakes, but only for beauty purposes rather than taste.
“I need to dry it again now.”
Yimae threw the greenish mugwort into the mortar. Chaesang, who had already put in the right amount of rice cake ingredients, quickly started pounding.
“I really hate picking Yeonbi mugwort.”
“Don’t I? My lips feel uncomfortable just having this grass in my mouth.”
Yimae retorted sullenly. She wanted to go to the creator god, who was said to give meaning to each and every living thing, and ask what he had created the moon rabbit for. She certainly wasn’t created to be a rice cake pounding expert!
“Mouse-eye beans!”
It was then that a welcome voice was heard. Yimae quickly turned her small head. One of the Four Guardian Deities, the White Tiger, was smiling with only his face sticking out from behind the tree. Following next to him was the Vermilion Bird, and even though they were separated by a thick tree trunk, a warm air could be felt. As expected, he was a god who controlled fire along with the Sun Star God, who drove the sun chariot.
“I told you not to call me Mouse-eye beans.”
The moon rabbit, who had put down the pestle, quickly put her hands on her hips. The White Tiger crouched down to match her eye level. He extended a trembling index finger as if he couldn’t even bear to touch her with his palm. Yimae made a menacing sound as if she would bite him.
“Oh my, we haven’t met in a while, are you going to cut off my finger?”
“Yes, what brings you here after so long?”
The White Tiger pointed behind him with his finger.
“The Vermilion Bird’s consort needs Yeonbi mugwort rice cakes.”
“Does that mean this rice cake is your rice cake?”
Yimae said to the Vermilion Bird. He had a handsome face, as he had ten years ago and still was, befitting his reputation as a famous beauty. Come to think of it, there were rumors that all the goddesses of the celestial realm had cried on the day the Vermilion Bird got married.
“You’re doing your consort’s errands yourself. You’ve become quite the devoted husband.”
The rabbit teased the Vermilion Bird as if she had caught him red-handed. The Vermilion Bird simply responded with a quiet smile.
“How about I pound the rice cake myself and take it with me?”
Yimae, who was handing the pestle to the Vermilion Bird half-jokingly and half-seriously, jumped back. The Hangaes were gathering in groups of three or five. Were they going to scold her for making one of the Four Guardian Deities pound rice cakes? However, their intentions were clearly focused elsewhere.
“It’s been a while.”
Sweet voices rippled everywhere. There was even a Hangae who unfolded a decorative fan made of soft cloth. Even if he was married, a handsome man was still a handsome man. Yimae crossed her arms and stepped back next to Chaesang.
“It’s been a while, Hangae-nim.”
He was a man who had manners ingrained in him, then and now. Even though she hadn’t raised the Vermilion Bird, Yimae was very pleased. The Vermilion Bird explained that he had come to get Yeonbi mugwort rice cakes and looked at the Hangaes with warm eyes. Originally, the energy of the Moon Palace was cold and blue. It was understandable that the people here were so fond of the Vermilion Bird, who was as warm as a stove even when he was still.
“The Yeonbi mugwort from the Black Dragon Palace is actually the best.”
One Hangae looked at the mortar with a regretful expression. Although she spoke softly, her eyes glared at the moon rabbits who had put down the pestle, but Yimae pretended not to notice.
“Haven’t you said you’re going to open the Red Earth Realm Palace this year?”
“Isn’t he the Black Dragon God who followed his mother so closely? It seems like it will take him more time to recover.”
The White Tiger suddenly thumped his chest.
“It’s already been four years since Hee-tae passed away. There’s also such a thing as too much of a good thing.”
Yimae recalled the Black Dragon mother and son she had seen a long time ago. She had heard rumors that Hee-tae had died and the young Black Dragon had taken over the position. When she recalled the eyes of the two, which were as sharp as a well-honed knife, she felt a chill again, making the Vermilion Bird’s energy pale in comparison.
“That vast backyard is just turning into a barren land.”
The White Tiger’s lament continued.
“Not only are we unable to use high-quality medicinal herbs, but we are also unable to prevent the growth of forbidden grass.”
Forbidden grass? Yimae’s small ears perked up sharply. Her long, white whiskers suddenly trembled, unable to hide her excitement.
“That’s a shame. I was hoping that the Black Dragon would open his palace and invite us this year.”
“Please be sure to invite us to the Vermilion Bird’s birthday banquet.”
“That’s right, it’s the only joy of the year.”
The Hangaes each said a word. After a long conversation filled with the scent of perfume, only the rabbits and the Four Guardian Deities were left under the cassia tree. The White Tiger and the Vermilion Bird sighed at the same time.
Yimae could no longer bear it. She turned around the cassia tree and ran out quickly. The White Tiger and the Vermilion Bird heard a trivial sound like seeds bursting somewhere, “totototo.”
“You two, tell me what you were talking about earlier again.”
“About what?”
The rabbit gestured to them. The two Four Guardian Deities almost put their ears to the ground before continuing.
“Is it true that forbidden grass is growing in the Black Dragon God’s palace?”
The White Tiger giggled as if tickled by the whispering breath.
“Why are you so curious about that?”
“There’s a grass that I absolutely have to get.”
“Do you think I’ll tell you for free?”
Was she going to block his throat with mugwort rice cakes? A murderous glint flashed in Yimae’s eyes for a moment. If the Vermilion Bird hadn’t spoken next, she might have really blocked the White Tiger’s throat with the entire mortar.
“Perhaps it’s been growing rapidly since no one has taken care of the backyard for several years.”
Yimae rolled her eyes in all directions. This was clearly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that only came to those who desperately desired it.
“Thank you, Vermilion Bird!”
“For what? Where are you going!”
Yimae ran away without looking back. Chaesang, who had been waiting behind the tree for her turn to pound rice cakes, also hurriedly followed her. The Vermilion Bird and the White Tiger, who saw two moon rabbits disappearing under the twilight in an instant, stared blankly at the empty air with dumbfounded faces.