If Silk Flowers Bloom by the Water’s Edge Chapter 70

Lowering the call volume, Yirok quietly brought the phone to his ear. Yogwi were sensitive to sound, so there was a chance they would hear the call and come right up to his door. Yirok lowered his voice and answered unhurriedly.

“Why did you call?”

—Why did I call? How can you not call or text even once after you leave? I told you. You’re the only friend in my contact list.

Hearing Chaehwa’s voice chattering about how hurt she was made him feel as if he were in his quarters in Nanjubeol. In the empty room with only a single chest of drawers for furniture, Yirok laughed silently. He spoke in a whisper, lowering his voice.

“I just answered.”

—‘I juuust answered’? How many days has it been since you left! This is so sad. I’m even making a mask to give to you. You heartless thing. You’re probably dozing off with a full stomach after eating lots of delicious food, right? And you even left your potted plant with Old Lady Yomyung before you left? Just leave everything behind, leave it all.

Chaehwa’s huffing and puffing was so pleasant to hear that Yirok wanted to turn up the volume. But in that instant, a Yogwi, having detected the sound of his voice as if by magic, folded its wings and climbed onto the veranda. At the sound of the wooden floor creaking, Yirok temporarily placed the phone on the floor.

As if even the heavens were supporting the gloomy atmosphere, white snow began to fall. Heavy footsteps could be heard, carrying the shadow of the snow that poured down like rain. Would it hear Chaehwa’s chattering voice even though the phone was placed face down on the ground? Yirok held his breath and stared at the thin paper of the door.

Seeing it with meat in its mouth, it had the mindset of wanting to have its cake and eat it too. Most things that wander this world even after death are like that, but its greed was excessive. It was a Yogwi with wings on its back and insect-like antennae on its head. The Yogwi’s steps halted in front of the quarters’ paper-paned door. The sound of the shadow’s breathing, a shadow so large it more than filled the door, seemed as if it would pierce through the thin paper.

There were times when he could neither lie down nor sit up because of that unpleasant panting sound. Yirok returned with an indifferent face and picked up his phone.

—Kim Yirok! You wicked thing! Just you wait until you come back. How dare you doze off while on the phone with me?

“I’m not sleeping.”

—Not sleeping? Then why didn’t you answer?

“There’s a Yogwi outside the door.”

At his calm voice, which was simply reporting the situation, Chaehwa’s chatter came to an abrupt halt. It was not a big deal for a Yogwi to appear in a Chukjangji, but Chaehwa would not know that. That the Bansi clan was teeming with Yogwi that would steam and eat people. No more, no less, that this was his ordinary year-end.

Yirok took the now-quiet phone from his ear and was about to end the call. Just then, Chaehwa, who he thought would disappear without a farewell, asked.

—Are you scared?

Chaehwa’s voice came to visit his small space, where no one had ever been invited. It was a voice that was not teasing or mocking, but worried for his well-being. In the end, Yirok could not give up on the call and brought it back to his ear.

—Do you remember what I told you last time? To breathe out comfortably.

Listening to Chaehwa’s voice, he turned his eyes toward the doorway. He saw the shadow of the Yogwi, drooling and defiling the area around the door. Since when had he become prey, a coveted captive, an outsider… It felt as if he had been served up on the predators’ dining table with his legs tied.

—Yirok.

Chaehwa’s voice became a little clearer, as if she had moved from a noisy place outside to indoors.

—Don’t be afraid. A Yogwi seems to be real, but it is not. It is something in front of your eyes, but it is also something that is not there.

It was difficult to understand, so Yirok squinted one eye. But one thing was clear. The Yogwi at the door became blurry, and the Chaehwa living in his ear became distinct. He could not tell if this was Chaehwa’s sorcery or an illusion.

—What a Yogwi desires most is a person’s life. Yirok, just by being alive, you are already superior to them.

It was the kind of thing that only scammers would say, something he was hearing for the first time in his life. He had never been grateful for being alive. But he also lacked the courage to take his own life. Because that would be betraying his brother. So he wished someone would kill him, either by accident or intentionally. After dying by someone else’s hand, not by his own will, he would say this to his brother.

I couldn’t help it. I did my best.

He wished there had been poison in the tea he drank today. He wished the incense stick the housekeeper Halmeom gave him was a poisonous herb. Yirok thought that what he longed for above all else was death.

—And if you’re too scared, tell me where you are.

At her supremely confident tone, Yirok could not help but ask.

“…If I tell you?”

psst, Chaehwa’s light laugh seemed to scratch at a tender part of his chest. Hope recklessly placed its bet on Chaehwa, who said that the things he had locked his door and avoided were nothing.

—I can beat them all, Yirok.

Could she also beat Sarira, who was constantly watching for a chance to get you? Could she beat me, who entered Nanjubeol under orders? That would be nice. In Yirok’s world, evil always had the upper hand.

—You’re not scared anymore, are you?

Yirok squeezed his eyes shut and ended up laughing out loud. In his dark mind, he pictured Chaehwa coming to find him. Her, opening the door to his lonely quarters and peeking her head in. Chaehwa, waving her hand brightly and greeting him. Then, surprisingly, the filthy things coiled in his chest faltered.

—Did you open my present?

Come to think of it, he had forgotten. He had put the present Chaehwa gave him in his bag. Yirok, more afraid of Chaehwa’s sigh than the Yogwi outside, stalled his answer. It was the first time. The first time the living were scarier than the dead.

—I see you haven’t opened it. I worked so hard to prepare that. You heartless…

“I’m sorry.”

—…What?

“I’ve been busy adjusting for the past few days since I got here.”

Even though he had apologized quickly, Chaehwa was silent. As the silence lengthened, Yirok unconsciously picked at a hangnail. He was afraid that a disappointed Chaehwa would hang up on him, and then cut him off forever. But the voice that finally returned was twice as cheerful.

—To apologize so quickly. You are Yirok, right? It’s not a Yogwi that stole your phone and is talking, is it?

“Aren’t you tired?”

—It’s just a little past 8. Is there anything to be tired about? But I do feel a little sleepy…

Thump.

The sound of her collapsing onto a bed was heard, and Yirok’s ominously pounding heart also calmed down. Chaehwa, in a good mood, laughed, hehe. Yirok, who had caught her smile without realizing it, lost the initial resolve he had to be cold, to ignore her.

“Sleep well.”

—You sleep well too, Yirok. If you like the present after you receive it, call me first. Got it?

Even though Chaehwa could not see him, Yirok nodded his head. Chaehwa, who was living a proper life, hung up early as she was getting sleepy. Yirok, who had inadvertently turned his head, discovered the vanished shadow. The moonlight, and the shadow of the heavily falling snow, were so beautiful.

Am I dreaming with my eyes open?

Finally, in a daze, he opened his bag and took out Chaehwa’s present. Inside the colorful wrapping paper was a square box. On top of the lid was a letter written in cute handwriting. Yirok opened the letter first before opening the box.

I like giving presents!

3 < So don’t feel burdened and accept it. This is a long-stemmed pipe that’s good for smoking Old Lady Yomyung’s special incense or sleeping herbs. It’s good to have one when you become a Haenang~ When it’s hard to burn something because you don’t have an incense burner, you can put the powder in here and light it.

Even if you don’t like it, don’t show it. I’ll get really mad.

While reading the very-Chaehwa-like letter, Yirok suddenly thought of himself, who had not even said thank you. He was ashamed of his bag, which had nothing suitable to give to Chaehwa. He felt that he could not return to Nanjubeol empty-handed next time.

Imagining what to give Chaehwa, Yirok opened the box. His chest felt tight at the sight of a long pipe reminiscent of the days when tigers used to smoke.

There had never been a long, long night when he had not thought of the Yogwi, had not thought of his brother. With the empty pipe, which did not contain any sleeping herbs, in his mouth, Yirok lay down flat on his back.

“Thank you.”

His pronunciation was off because he was holding the pipe in his mouth, but he conveyed his feelings to Chaehwa, even if only in a murmur to himself. The sound of chewing on rotten meat could no longer be heard. Just as Chaehwa had said, when he considered it to be nothing, truly nothing could torment him.

Without worrying about the dwindling incense stick, Yirok closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep for the first time in a while. He did not dream. For him, for whom nightmares were the default, no news was good news when it came to dreams.

But if there was one thing different from other nights, it was that someone had stroked the back of the sleeping Yirok. When he woke up, he was, of course, alone. But the feeling left on his back was too vivid to be dismissed as a fantasy.

The first thing Yirok saw when he woke up was Chaehwa’s picture on his phone screen. She had kept watch over his night, just as she had grandly promised.

That, too, was likely a delusion, but for Yirok, it was a year-end where the feeling was reversed from the usual.