Chapter 14

Once home, Myeong-joo called out brightly for his sisters. Keeping his voice to an excited whisper so the landlords would not overhear, he beckoned them to see what he had brought; Myeong-in and Myeong-hui’s eyes instantly widened like saucers. The girls squealed with pure delight at the sight of meat, something they had not tasted in ages. Having lacked the funds to place even skewered beef on the ancestral table during the holiday, enjoying such a feast now filled them with boundless joy.

“Do you like it that much, Myeong-hui?” he asked with a fond grin. “Give your brother a kiss.”

“Hehe…” Her palms and lips slick with grease, Myeong-hui giggled and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

Feeling the frozen numbness in his chest melt away in an instant, Myeong-joo was overcome with happiness. Even Myeong-in, who usually wore a sober, mature expression well beyond her years, let grease glisten on her lips as she laughed like the young woman she was. The deep dimple indenting her cheek looked so lovely he wished he could spend his life gazing at nothing else. Relieved that with five whole chickens they could simmer rich porridge tomorrow, Myeong-in looked visibly lighter, and Myeong-joo felt a swell of profound pride.

His conversation with Lee Yi-tan inside the sedan drifted back to him. The officer had offered promise after promise. While it was an unthinkable notion he had never dared dream of, looking at his little sisters made him fall into the pathetic delusion that this was not merely his own selfish greed. Desire rose within him like the jagged peak of Mount Gamak. Since I turned back time, maybe this once, I could… Catching the trajectory of his thoughts, Myeong-joo recoiled in horror. However erased the previous timeline was, how could he possibly marry his sister’s husband? Ashamed of such brazen depravity, he quickly shifted his gaze to the girls.

“…Is it that delicious?” he asked softly.

“I wish every day could be like today!” Myeong-hui cheered, swinging her legs. “I’m going to make today Magpie New Year!”

Hearing the child giggle, Myeong-in chimed in, “Why not call it Myeong-hui New Year instead?” and the two sisters burst into wild laughter over the silliness. Watching them laugh, Myeong-joo felt an agonizing tenderness tear at his heart.

With his chance to enlist as a military test subject shattered and his own life ticking away like a terminal sentence, despair loomed large. Just as Yi-tan had declared, only one path remained open to Cha Myeong-joo. Even if that path aligned with his own illicit longing, where else could he possibly turn?

Glinting with grease, his sisters’ fingernails looked as small and delicate as goldfish scales. Myeong-joo accepted the inevitable: there was no other way. Simply because the choice coincided with his shameful greed did not make it any less the right answer. In the end, he surrendered to fate.

“I’ll buy it for you again next time, so eat slowly,” he urged gently.

“Okay,” Myeong-hui replied, nudging a drumstick toward him. “You eat too, Brother, hurry!”

Gazing down at the crown of Myeong-hui’s head as she worried over her brother before filling her own tiny stomach, Myeong-joo repeatedly coerced his conscience with the excuse that no other option existed. As though oblivious to his inner turmoil, the children giggled among themselves once more. That evening, Myeong-joo played the part of an ordinary, helpless man to the utmost.

***

Even though the holiday had only just passed, having an unexpected day off unwound Myeong-joo’s frayed nerves. Waking early to walk Myeong-hui to school, he found it both heartbreaking and endearing to see how thrilled she was to walk beside a brother usually lost to dawn shifts; at a stationery shop near the gates, he bought a package of sweet injeolmi and tucked it into her book bag.

He gave a gentle pat on her shoulder. “Share with your friends and get along well.”

“I know how to manage!” she said with a mischievous grin before skipping through the gate.

Chuckling at her spirited response, Myeong-joo watched her vanish inside before turning on his heel.

He made his way back toward the house, intending to sleep deeply now that he had the day off. He had barely slept after Yi-tan’s visit, tossing and turning over the proposal, but from early morning, a heavy malaise had settled over his body like the onset of a vicious fever.

Recalling no strenuous exertion the day before, Myeong-joo realized belatedly that these might be symptoms of Harmonization Saturation. As if merely awaiting his conscious recognition, the dormant harmonization essence within surged violently against his nervous system. Nausea churned in his gut, yet with nothing to purge, he could only clutch his aching stomach.

The dizziness and nausea worsened until, by the time he neared the neighborhood, his limbs were trembling like those of a man who had spent four days outdoors. Every passerby who asked whether he was all right cost him another scrap of energy to reassure. He dreaded the thought of entering the room after the overnight briquettes had burned away and left the ondol cold, but lying down as quickly as possible seemed the only sensible course.

Chattering his teeth as he pushed open the front gate, the landlady living downstairs called him to a halt.

“Young man from upstairs!”

“Yes, ma’am?” Myeong-joo answered faintly.

She looked at his pale face with deep concern. “Good heavens, why do you look so gaunt and wretched?” Looking at him as though struck speechless, her expression bordered on dismay.

Self-conscious that his attempt to appear presentable had failed so miserably, Myeong-joo wiped a hand across his hollow cheek.

Remembering her errand, the woman dried her wet palms against her apron. “Look at my head. A call came for you a moment ago. What was the name again—someone from the Lee clan, sounded like a soldier. I wrote the number down, so come use our phone.”

“Ah…”

An involuntary syllable slipped from his lips. A soldier named Lee brought only one figure to mind. His chest tightening with a heavy knot, Myeong-joo gave a respectful bow.

“Thank you as always, ma’am.”

“It’s nothing at all,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “Go ahead and call now. I need to leave for the market shortly.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Though he had yearned desperately to lie down every step of the walk home, her prodding left him no choice. Moreover, curiosity piqued him as to why Lee Yi-tan was calling. He was likely pressing for an answer to the proposal made in the car just yesterday.

Hardly any time had passed, and Yi-tan was not the sort to press impatiently for an answer. If he had called again so soon, perhaps he truly was in urgent need of a Harmonizer. Myeong-joo had already decided there seemed to be only one road left to him, but that did not erase every doubt. Still, if Yi-tan genuinely needed him, he had no wish to make him wait. Biting down on his lip, Myeong-joo followed the landlady inside.

“Go ahead and make your call,” the landlady said, gesturing toward the sofa. “I have greens to trim in the kitchen.”

“Thank you.”

After pointing to the telephone resting on the side table beside the living room sofa, she retreated into the kitchen. Bowing toward her back, Myeong-joo gingerly took a seat. Beside the phone lay a notepad scribbled with a phone number. Next to the digits, the landlady had jotted curious queries like Soldier? and Yulgok Lee Yi? Finding the name unfamiliar, she had evidently caught only the first two syllables and missed the final sound. The scribble of the ancient philosopher brought a wry chuckle to his lips.

Before Myeong-joo traveled back in time, not a soul in Seowon—or across the entire peninsula—was ignorant of the war hero Lee Yi-tan, but with his decisive triumphs still ahead of him, the name remained unfamiliar to civilians. Among active servicemen, the man was practically a celebrity.

Myeong-joo’s index finger steadily turned the rotary dial. As the wheel spun back to its origin, he dialed digit after digit; the automatic model, requiring no telephone operator, emitted a faint crackle followed by a steady ringing tone.

Tension seized him without warning, stiffening his spine. Though his complexion remained sickly pale, the glass panes of the display cabinet opposite the sofa reflected an unmistakable gleam in his eyes. Why are you so wound up? It’s just a phone call. Mocking himself did nothing to loosen the taut rigidity of his face.

—“Yes, Lee Yi-ho speaking.”

The voice answering the line belonged to someone entirely unexpected. Watching the light drain rapidly from his reflected eyes, Myeong-joo sighed without making a sound. Yulgok Lee Yi, ma’am? The only trait this bastard shares with Master Yulgok is his surname…

Though feeling thoroughly aggrieved, he knew better than to invite trouble and opened his mouth to greet his former commander.

“Loyalty. This is Cha Myeong-joo, Captain.”

—“Ah, yes!” Yi-ho’s voice boomed through the receiver. “Finally got in touch with you!”

Not even knowing Lee Yi-tan’s office number, assuming the call was from him based solely on the landlady’s scribbled note had been foolish from the start. How had this bastard unearthed his landlady’s number? He had undoubtedly interrogated the few former comrades of Myeong-joo still serving in uniform. A leech of a man. Cursing him viciously in his thoughts, Myeong-joo affected a cheerful tone.

“Happy New Year, sir. May I ask what brings your call?”

—“Right, Happy New Year to you too, Sergeant, and good fortune in spring,” Yi-ho replied smoothly. “Naturally, I called to inquire how matters are progressing.”

“…Pardon? Progressing regarding what, sir?”

When Myeong-joo knit his brows and questioned the vague inquiry, a click of the tongue sounded from the receiver.

—“Don’t be so obtuse,” Yi-ho chided. “Our discussion from the other day. Well? Have you made up your mind?”

“Ah…”

Impatient bastard can’t wait even five minutes, Myeong-joo grumbled inwardly, suppressing his irritation. If an answer was to be given, he wanted to deliver it directly to Lee Yi-tan; he had not expected Lee Yi-ho to chase him down with such persistence. What this man hoped to gain from orchestrating a union between him and Yi-tan remained entirely baffling.

Binding Myeong-joo to Yi-tan might hinder the younger man because of Myeong-joo’s supposedly miserable harmonization grade, but even a low-grade Harmonizer was marginally better than none. Why a man who begrudged spending even fifty jeon on his half-brother was pushing this marriage so eagerly remained impossible to understand.

Although that modern machinery reportedly showed excellent compatibility, Yi-ho likely believed that regardless of synergy, a bottom-tier Harmonizer could never truly stabilize Yi-tan. The clinic doctor had urged Myeong-joo to retest, claiming he might possess high-tier harmonization, but Myeong-joo chose to play ignorant and probed carefully.

“I had no idea you were so invested in this matter, Captain.”

—“…What a strange way to put it. Am I forbidden from taking an interest in my own brother’s marriage?” Yi-ho retorted.

He nearly answered that staying out of it would be preferable for everyone. Whatever his ulterior motive, it boded ill for both Myeong-joo and Lee Yi-tan—particularly Yi-tan. The man’s palpable excitement on the line made that all too evident.

Myeong-joo said carefully, “I am still considering it. If you could explain why you are in such a rush, sir, it might help me organize my thoughts faster.”

—“Why, because I always keep your welfare in mind, and I worry about our Second Lieutenant who never sees a peaceful day,” Yi-ho said with a lewd laugh. “They say merely sharing the nuptial cup with a Harmonizer works wonders for an Aberrant. Particularly what comes from a male Harmonizer’s body—saliva and everything else is supposedly miraculous, though I have zero taste for men myself. Haha…”

What a filthy bastard.

However much the old social order had loosened, Lee Yi-ho was displaying every bit of the crude upbringing Myeong-joo despised. Thirty years earlier, Myeong-joo would have marched over and slapped him across the mouth; a man who once would not have dared answer back even with a split cheek was now subjecting him to the sort of lewd taunts heard from street thugs. Myeong-joo normally forbade village children from calling him young master, but at moments like this his old aristocratic pride burned hot.

If the marriage went through, Myeong-joo would effectively become his brother’s spouse; to spout lewd rumors circulating among Aberrants about such a bond made Myeong-joo tremble with the effort of not tying the man to a post and beating him bloody.

—“At any rate, we have plenty to discuss in person,” Yi-ho said briskly. “Drop by Mokyeong-dong after noon.”