If Silk Flowers Bloom by the Water’s Edge Chapter 42

The abyss was an unknown space within one’s own mind. It could reflect a nature that even the person themselves was unaware of, or it could reflect a characteristic that the world recognized. For example, Chaehwa’s abyss was a flower field without any scent. The sky was blue and the earth was vast, and the flower field that stretched on endlessly was like a young spring day. But the beautifully waving flower field had no fragrance. Could a flower that butterflies and bees ignored be called a flower?

Other people would all be envious when they heard it was a flower field. After all, an abyss couldn’t always be a flower field like Chaehwa’s. There were people whose abyss was a swamp where alligators lived, and people whose abyss was a desert where scorpions lived. A flower without a scent. Chaehwa felt like she understood the meaning her abyss held.

To a warrior, the abyss was that much of a private space. Therefore, the Japkwi that was painting Yirok’s abyss black was also something private. She felt uneasy about simply exorcising a Japkwi that surely had some connection to Yirok. Although it was a Japkwi, there must be its own reason for obstructing Yirok from opening his abyss.

The result of her meddling wasn’t bad. Her grandmother, despite hearing Yomyung’s explanation, whose worries last for four days and three nights, took Chaehwa’s side. It was because she tended to value Chaehwa’s intuition highly. Thanks to that, it was decided that Yirok would receive special tutoring, gathering in Chaehwa’s quarters for two hours every day after training.

“However, you must leave the door open so Yeonrye can enter at any time. If there’s no effect after a month has passed, then stop.”

Chaehwa, who was very curious about what Yirok’s abyss would be like, accepted her grandmother’s conditions. It was perhaps only natural that the location for their special tutoring was Chaehwa’s personal bedroom, which boasted impenetrable security and where Chaehwa was the supreme ruler. The permitted period was one month. Since Yirok couldn’t participate in the Yogwi summoning class anyway, he decided to visit Chaehwa in the middle of the day when he had free time.

The next day, Chaehwa was happy to see Yirok being guided into her private space by Yeonrye, but she soon found herself in a difficult position. It was only then that she truly realized she had to reveal her intimate bedroom to Yirok.

To buy time, she had Yeonrye bring in a tray of refreshments and spent some time reading a book. Yirok, who seemed to be following her lead, began to press Chaehwa with his gaze as evening approached. Under the intense stare that watched her slack off, Chaehwa had no choice but to finally move.

“Ahem, ahem… I’ve never shown this place to anyone.”

“And yet.”

Chaehwa’s quarters were a men-prohibited zone. Among the Haenangs, there were some who had been to the guest room and the small guest bedroom in Chaehwa’s quarters, but no one had ever seen the bedroom-slash-study that Chaehwa used personally. She was revealing a room decorated to her own taste to a non-family member for the first time. Yirok, who had no way of knowing the significance of this, looked like he wanted to strangle himself with the book he was holding.

“When are we starting.”

“Um… so, can you give me 10 minutes?”

“The only things I’ve seen since I came in here are you scarfing down snacks, dozing off like a sick chicken while reading a book, and….”

“Then just 5 minutes.”

Seeing Chaehwa guarding the doorknob, Yirok covered his lips with his book. The boredom visible in his eyes painfully stabbed at Chaehwa’s feelings. Unaware of the deeply regretful Chaehwa, Yirok quietly opened his mouth again.

“Open the door now. Or… I think I’m really going to regret this.”

Deciding to receive the special tutoring was no small matter for Yirok. It would have been a simple matter to just perform the ritual and drive out the Japkwi; he had come here deliberately betraying Old Lady Yomyung’s will. In the end, Chaehwa couldn’t bear his pressing gaze and turned the doorknob.

Chaehwa, who dashed through the bedroom door that opened without resistance, did not turn on the light. Just as she was about to quickly grab only what she needed and leave, she heard the click of the light turning on.

She saw Yirok, who had followed her in, standing there after pressing the light switch. Yesterday, she had laid him on her bed because of the chaos, but that was that. Reflecting on it that night, she felt quite embarrassed that Yirok had discovered her hobby of collecting stuffed dolls.

Yirok did not come all the way in but leaned against the doorway, his eyes moving around. Although she called it a study, in truth, she had rarely ever opened a book there.

On the wall, a large world map occupied the very center, and the remaining walls were not pristine either. Movie posters and photos of tourist attractions that Chaehwa had collected over a span of ten years were pieced together, filling the walls.

There was no major change in Yirok’s hard-to-read expression. But there was also none of the ridicule that Chaehwa had worried about. Rather, his gaze, which seemed to have its interest piqued, lingered on the large world map.

It was a shabby world map, with red stickers placed on every region she felt a desire to visit. For some reason, it was blush-inducing to have her desire to go outside Chukjangji, to countries across the sea, be discovered.

She hated the kind of gaze that seemed to see her as a person with a warm back and a full stomach—Nanjubeol’s Chaehwa, sitting in a position looked up to as “young lady,” yet only looking at the sky beyond the wall.

Yirok pulled his gaze away from the world map to Chaehwa, who was standing before it as if being judged. Chaehwa, whose inner desires had been exposed, had rosy cheeks. Taking a step, Yirok entered without closing the door and asked.

“Are we doing this standing up?”

Whether out of consideration or indifference, Yirok did not comment on the study. Chaehwa hid her awkwardness and pointed to the desk she had set out yesterday.

“No, no. Here… sit.”

She ended up sitting face-to-face with Yirok, whose expression was clean, without a speck of prejudice. As the trivial, quiet time stretched on, Chaehwa’s toes did a twisting dance. On top of that, Yirok only had his eyes on the book he had brought with him.

Chaehwa released the lip she was biting and looked forward. How could it be that she was feeling awkward because she didn’t know the reason why it had suddenly become awkward? They were as shy as people who had their first meeting just two days ago. They couldn’t even make eye contact with each other.

Feeling that it was a waste of time, Chaehwa placed a box she had prepared in advance on the table. Only then did Yirok also lift his gaze and look at Chaehwa properly. When she opened the box, a string was visible; Chaehwa called it “konjac-mal” because it resembled konjac jelly. This was a fact that only Yeonrye in all of Nanjubeol knew.

“This is….”

“Yesterday….”

When they weren’t talking, they wouldn’t say a word, but now that they were trying to speak, what was with them talking over each other? She gave the first chance to Yirok, who had brought up the meaningful word “yesterday.” At that, Yirok continued the conversation with the face of someone sitting on a cushion of thorns.

“This is something that gives you no benefit… I realized I never said I was sorry for making you waste your time.”

Chaehwa, who was taking the string out of the box, was so surprised by the unexpected words that her mouth fell open. She was confident she would never hear such words even if she were to beat Yirok for three days and nights. Yirok himself seemed embarrassed after speaking, as he immediately shook his head and said, “Never mind, forget it.” Chaehwa giggled as if her laughter pouch was filled with water. It was then that she became certain that Yirok did not find any of the objects in her study or bedroom strange.

Yirok did not see her as Nanjubeol’s Chaehwa. With a lightened heart, Chaehwa picked up the string and held it out to him.

“You have to do well to become a good Haenang, and that’s a good thing for me, too.”

“I’ll still repay you.”

“Repay me?”

“I have something in mind. This.”

Chaehwa was so dumbfounded that the hand passing over the string dropped onto the table with a thud. Yirok took out a notebook tucked under his book and held it out in front of Chaehwa. The hand offering it was so uncharacteristically proactive for Yirok that Chaehwa accepted the notebook, flustered.

“My notes. I wrote them so they’d be easy for you to understand.”

“Don’t tell me you’re talking about what you heard in class?”

“Take it. If you take that, your loss… will be compensated for, even if just a little.”

“It’s not a loss, so you don’t have to do this.”

Of course, she would accept it if he were just giving it to her, but she didn’t want it if it was payment for the special tutoring. And to top it off, he attached the word “loss” to it. Dissatisfied with it as payment, she put the notebook down. Yirok deliberately picked up the notebook and placed it back in Chaehwa’s hand.

“Take it. So you don’t regret it later.”

“Regret?”

“Regret.”

“What would I regret? Just for helping one person like you.”

“You will. So take it.”

Chaehwa sensed that if the argument went any further, Yirok would run away. She could tell by looking at his black eyes, which were adept at avoidance. Chaehwa pretended to accept the notebook and calmed her excited heart.

Yirok himself wasn’t chalk, yet he drew lines in every affair. As Yirok himself said, he didn’t just draw them with her. But now that she had put her own reputation on the line and stepped forward as his guarantor, she was starting to feel a little resentful. When resentment builds up and up, it turns into dislike. She desperately hoped that the wick of her heart would not catch fire. Chaehwa extinguished the embers of her dissatisfaction with a sigh and held out the string.

“This is sometimes called the string of the abyss, and I also call it konjac-mal. Normally, you can’t enter someone else’s abyss. But you can think of this as a tool that helps make that possible.”

After finishing her explanation, Chaehwa used a remote control to turn off the lights in the room. Then she lit a small candle and placed it on the table. When one person holds one end of the string, the other person holds the opposite end. Consent was essential to enter another’s abyss. Having lit the candle and created a situation where there was only each other, Chaehwa met the conditions and said, looking straight ahead.

“I am going to enter the deepest part of your heart, Yirok.”

The abyss, an important and secret space that the person has yet to realize. It was just a process to set foot inside, yet the two of them were engulfed in the same tension. Yirok lowered his wavering gaze to the candlelight.

“Hold the other end of the string.”

With a sense of reluctance, his hand took hold of the other end of the string. The gazes of the two people, pulling one string taut, happened to meet. Neither could look away, and they each difficultly received the other’s trembling gaze.

“Is it okay for me to enter? You have to give permission, even if it’s just with words.”

“……”

“Just the words. It won’t work otherwise.”

An emotion was momentarily painted across Yirok’s cold face. It was a look of regret that started from the moment he grabbed the string. The look that said, I shouldn’t have come here, I should have just done the ritual. Despite showing his discomposed expression, Yirok rolled his tongue.

“Fine. Come in.”

Hearing the words of permission, Chaehwa smiled without realizing it. The permission, though a simple thing, sounded as if it held great significance.

And so, the special lesson smoothly set sail.