Yang’s Master Chapter 5.3 - The Serpent and the Forbidden Fruit

He made his second plea. In a request so depressive and frail that it seemed his knees might give out, Linda took off her glasses and set them down. The cloudy eyes of an old woman with cataracts looked at the young man, who was like a grandson to her, about to commit a foolish act.

“Little one, what can I do for you?”

Linda called Yang Euijoo affectionately. Yang Euijoo, thinking he didn’t like these shoes, carefully answered what he had planned in his mind. His voice came out calmer than he expected, as if he had lived for this very moment. That was a relief.

🐑

Cheon Yeomyung was getting busier as time passed. He was so busy that he couldn’t keep his promise to go out together until the new sneakers, which Yang Euijoo complained were rubbing his heels raw, were broken in. Still, Cheon Yeomyung consistently sought out Yang Euijoo every morning and evening.

When Cheon Yeomyung came to him in the late or early dawn, Yang Euijoo would grumble as if annoyed but eventually make room beside him. It was such a routine sight that both the subordinates and Cheon Yeomyung firmly trusted Yang Euijoo. What they trusted was the image of Yang Euijoo who demanded nothing.

A lover slightly different from anyone he had seen before. Cheon Yeomyung liked Yang Euijoo. He liked how Yang Euijoo sometimes silently stared at the gloved hand, or how, lying side by side naked and embracing, he was curious about the history of the scars etched on his body. Cheon Yeomyung liked pressing down on Yang Euijoo’s prominent shoulder blades and kissing his back. In any case, he felt an unprecedented satisfaction in this relationship.

“The boss seems to be in a good mood lately.”

On the way back, Sogang spoke up. It was the first time the refined Sogang had said something like this, so Cheon Yeomyung laughed.

“Love is fun.”

“It’s nice to see you doing well. But at this rate, you might lose the bet, huh?”

Sogang, gripping the steering wheel and looking at the dim road ahead, quickly added.

“Not that I’m saying you should break up on purpose. Stability is a good thing.”

“Even if he’s a stateless slum guy?”

“Are there only one or two people like that among the organization? You’ve never cared about gender before, so why now?”

“That’s true.”

Cheon Yeomyung looked at his reflection in the car window. The black leather glove pressed slightly against his cheek. Cheon Yeomyung moved his bent fingers a little. The hand, trapped in gloves every day, felt especially stifling today. So he fantasized. Perhaps one day he could tell Yang Euijoo all about his past. He could gain something worth more than the ten thousand dollars he might lose.

“I hope he likes the gift.”

Leaving for Macau early in the morning, Cheon Yeomyung bought a box of cookies there. Macau had long been a festival of revelry and gambling. After Mister Ho, with the governor’s permission, sparked the casino industry a few years ago, that small island became a nation where extravagant dreams gathered. The British had belatedly legalized casinos, but it was already too late. Cheon Yeomyung, backing Mister Ho in Macau, fattened his wallet through loan sharking.

He didn’t like Mister Ho, but he had enough social skills to get along with the man called the economy of Macau.

“It’s from the chairman, so it must be delicious.”

“Even if that guy acts tacky, his taste is refined.”

When Cheon Yeomyung mentioned needing to buy gift sweets, Mister Ho, in a very friendly manner, recommended a few shops and personally handed him a box of what he said were the best-tasting sweets. It was a small sum, but the fact that the casino owner gave it himself was significant. Cheon Yeomyung couldn’t understand Mister Ho’s deficient ethics, constantly changing wives and keeping mistresses, but he gratefully accepted what was given.

Thinking of Yang Euijoo, who told him to buy food instead of flowers, Cheon Yeomyung followed his lover’s words obediently. His brain, soaked in the casino’s dazzling noise and madness, gradually calmed.

“Still far?”

“We’ll arrive soon.”

Sogang answered, looking ahead. The faint winter dust swirled through Hong Kong’s old, damp streets. The signs lighting the streets were still red or green. By color alone, it was like Christmas. Recalling a day Cheon Yeomyung disliked, Sogang slowly drove the car into the mansion.

Holding the gift box of cookies, Cheon Yeomyung asked the maid who greeted him.

“Where’s the teacher?”

“He went to bed early.”

The maid replied politely, taking Cheon Yeomyung’s jacket. Cheon Yeomyung, feeling good, walked through the mansion kept at his favorite temperature and humidity, looking at the staircase to the second floor. The stairs, a refined blend of Portuguese and British styles, felt oddly off. What was it? Cheon Yeomyung looked at the ribbon on the rustling cookie box in his arms. It was red.

Was I at the casino too long today? Without overthinking, he moved forward. The dark, polished wooden stairs smoothly guided their master’s steps. Yang Euijoo’s room was at the end of the second-floor hallway. It was the only room with a view of both Yirang and the sea, and the only one overlooking the backyard pool.

Cheon Yeomyung knocked briefly on the door and opened it. It was late, but that was a trivial issue.

“Euijoo… hm?”

It was a habitual late greeting. Cheon Yeomyung saw an empty bed. He was supposed to have gone to bed early, but there was no trace of anyone lying in it. Not on the bed, then the desk? Still no one. Cheon Yeomyung slowly crossed the unsettlingly empty room, as if someone had been plucked out, and looked down at the wide-open window.

He hadn’t come to the wrong room. The view of Yirang, the docks, and the calm ripples of the pool was the same. If not for the rope cut cleanly in the middle, Cheon Yeomyung might have thought his lover was playing hide-and-seek.

He immediately left Yang Euijoo’s room to find Rose Rock.

“Boss, you called?”

Rose Rock, managing the mansion that day, yawned briefly due to the late hour and looked at Cheon Yeomyung. Wearing a black silk pajama with a robe over it, she was asked by Cheon Yeomyung.

“Who’s watching the kid?”

“The kid? Oh, Quan’s kid? Maowin and Alin are probably watching.”

“Outside or inside?”

Rose Rock, puzzled by why he asked, answered.

“In the hallway. The kid kept fussing, scared of strangers in the room, and the woman said it was tough. Since there’s no need to stay inside, I told them to wait in the hallway… Boss?”

Rose Rock, answering with a look of confusion at the odd questions, paused. A delicate, radiant smile spread across Cheon Yeomyung’s face, holding the elaborately wrapped, out-of-place cute cookie box.

“I’ll prepare to leave immediately.”

Sensing the unease, Rose Rock replied. She thought simply. Could Quan have targeted that brief moment? If there was noise, Maowin and Alin would have entered, so maybe chloroform was used. Cheon Yeomyung didn’t stop Rose Rock, who, with a hardened face, shed her flimsy robe to change clothes.

“Get everyone ready!”

Rose Rock shouted sharply, stuffing her shirt into her pants. The quiet mansion was instantly on high alert. At Rose Rock’s call, Rinrin rushed from the first floor to the second.

“Boss! Where’s the pharmacist teacher?”

“…”

“Boss?”

Cheon Yeomyung didn’t answer Rinrin’s anxious question. He needed to make a judgment. Was it Quan’s doing or Yang Euijoo’s? But there was only one answer.

“It seems my lover figured something out.”

When did he know? Cheon Yeomyung tilted his head. A belated question arose. Even if he knew, he didn’t expect him to run away himself. He thought he’d accept his anger, but this was an unimaginable choice.

“Boss, the woman and the kid are both gone!”

Interesting… Cheon Yeomyung laughed hollowly at someone’s report.

People without passports couldn’t use the airport. The only option was a ship that took anyone for money. Cheon Yeomyung mentally listed the cruises and trade ships leaving tonight and at dawn.

Mei hadn’t given birth long ago. She couldn’t travel far. Somewhere close would be best. Korea? Or Japan? Shanghai, Taiwan, Shandong, or Tianjin… Anywhere far would be troublesome. Especially Chinese territories. They were still chaotic with political struggles. If they went to a place with frequent crackdowns and regulations, Cheon Yeomyung might lose the chance for revenge he’d planned for seven years. He muttered a light curse.

“Boss.”

“Prioritize catching the woman and the kid. The pharmacist comes next.”

Rinrin called Cheon Yeomyung again in an anxious voice. He glanced at her and coldly ordered.

“Prepare to head to the port. We chase quickly.”

His blunt tone made it impossible to guess what he was thinking. Rinrin hesitated, about to say something, but ran outside to follow his orders. Left alone, Cheon Yeomyung looked at the empty room again.

Why Yang Euijoo did this could be asked slowly after catching him. Yes, ask after catching him. Cheon Yeomyung quickly erased the image of himself imagining whether Yang Euijoo would smile or grumble at the cookies. Yes, he had to ask, even if it meant tearing apart that pretty, foolish face. The man slowly turned his steps. Leaving the room that didn’t wait for him, he headed back to the mansion’s entrance.

The maid, hearing the news, trembled with a pale face, fearing brutal punishment for not noticing Yang Euijoo’s escape. Seeing her face, Cheon Yeomyung took the jacket from her hands and put it on again.

“Ah.”

Where did he toss that cookie box? Recalling the cute, sweet box lost in that brief moment, Cheon Yeomyung stepped out of the mansion indifferently. Hong Kong’s unique air hit his cheeks. It was the tiresomely familiar taste of betrayal.

🐑

Yang Euijoo was terrified of everything. With a desperate urge to give up and tell Mei, smiling, that it was nothing, he knocked on the second-floor window where Mei was staying.

“Mei, Mei.”

His throat tightened. She still knew nothing, merely waiting for today after receiving a secretly sent letter. Even when asking the guards to leave after her child was born, she didn’t act naively, unaware of Yang Euijoo’s thoughts.

Everything went as Yang Euijoo wanted, but no one was prepared. He grabbed the window, pushed it up, and entered the room. Without even glancing at the newborn sleeping like an angel, he stuffed Mei and the child’s belongings into a large bag.

“Teacher?”

Seeing Yang Euijoo’s strange attire, Mei cautiously called his name. Her voice, worried it might leak into the hallway, was small and feather-light.

Hearing that voice, Yang Euijoo felt tears welling up. Trembling, he grabbed Mei’s hand.

“Come with me… Come with me.”

“Teacher?”

“Take the kid and come out through the window. We have to go quickly.”

Mei wasn’t a clever woman. She was a prostitute but had an innocent side and relied on Yang Euijoo a little too much. To her, he felt like an oppa. That oppa, with a tear-streaked face, held her hand and pleaded. Recalling the letter’s contents, Mei silently wrapped her child in a blanket and held them close. She leaned out the window after Yang Euijoo. A long ladder was set below. Mei, seeing the dizzying height, closed her eyes tightly once and opened them.

Yang Euijoo dropped the bag to the ground and took the child from Mei. He climbed down the ladder first. The crudely made ladder creaked precariously with each step, but both reached the ground safely. Yang Euijoo’s hands still trembled. He seemed unaware he was crying.

“Listen carefully. A cruise is leaving Hong Kong soon. We’ll take it. The ticket, the ticket…”

Panting, Yang Euijoo rummaged through his pockets in front of Mei. He had barely slept for nearly a week, haunted by nightmares for this day. Imagining Linda and Li Su betraying him to Cheon Yeomyung tore at his nerves. But today finally came.

Imagining being caught by the man a thousand times, Yang Euijoo held Mei’s hand. His cold, tense hand gave her the ticket and money obtained through Linda. Linda thought Yang Euijoo’s request for a ticket was foolish, urging him to abandon the woman and pretend ignorance. Yang Euijoo wanted to do that too.

If he shook off her hand now and returned to the mansion, Cheon Yeomyung would forgive him affectionately… He was quite kind, after all.

“It’s not far to the port from here, so we’ll get there quickly. Change your clothes first.”

Mei didn’t argue with Yang Euijoo’s strange words. Instead, she asked.

“Teacher, this is something you have to do, right?”

Her voice was still soft, like down or feathers. Yang Euijoo panted in pain.

“You want to save my child, right?”

Mei’s warm brown eyes looked at Yang Euijoo. Unlike Cheon Yeomyung or Yang Euijoo, they were warm and comforting. Mei was only twenty-one. Yet she acted with composure. Yang Euijoo nodded, tears hanging in his eyes. Despite his tear-stained, unreliable appearance, Mei smiled brightly.

“I’ll do as you say. I don’t know anything, but I can follow instructions well.”

With a quiet voice, Yang Euijoo handed Mei the prepared clothes.

“Cheon Yeomyung, he’ll try to catch you… So no matter what, get on the ship. Once you’re on, if a crew member calls you, follow him…”

Linda helped with everything. She generously aided Yang Euijoo, worried about Mei, who had to flee with her child. Yet she worried about Yang Euijoo too. She called it foolish but couldn’t help it. Loving was easier than hating humans. Even now, born and raised in the filth below the deck.

Mei, without asking anything, took off her pajamas and changed into the clothes Yang Euijoo gave her. Yang Euijoo turned his back, soothing the angelic sleeping child. A newborn boy. Named Cheong, the blue name suited him well. He resembled Mei far more than Quan.

And… it was a name Cheon Yeomyung would surely kill. Yang Euijoo couldn’t stand by sane and let that happen. He returned the child to Mei, who was ready.

“What if the baby wakes up?”

“The port’s noisy, so it’ll be fine. Can you run?”

“Of course.”

Mei nodded boldly. Twenty-one… Yang Euijoo imagined again. If he didn’t know her age or had never spoken to her, he wouldn’t have done this. Until now, who lived or died wasn’t his concern.

But someone had raised Yang Euijoo, who lost his mother, so he survived. Just as Li Su took in the penniless him and fed him noodle soup. Yang Euijoo wiped his tear-soaked face. He picked up the bag and walked. It felt like a ton was strapped to his body.

The two hid in Hong Kong’s fog and ran to the port. Soon after, Maowin and Alin, alerted by Rose Rock’s bellowing call, rushed into the room. A deafening shout echoed in the empty room.

The port grew noisy. Sailors, grumbling about the dawn departure while docked at the cramped, dirty port, were puzzled. Suddenly, there were many people at this late hour.

“What’s going on?”

“Get back to the deck! Forgot where we are? Don’t mess around and get shot.”

A sailor with rough, blackened hands from years at sea called out to his colleague, biting a cigarette tightly and looking at the chaotic dark port.

“Time to prepare for departure.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell the captain.”

The colleague quickly turned from the port’s bustle to report to the captain’s cabin. Ugh. The sailor spat a curse, looking at the dark blue sea. Less than thirty minutes left. The ticket checker scratched his head, wondering whether to remove the gangway early. Somewhere, a high, sharp sound—whether a child crying or a seagull—rang through the port. It was more melancholic and precarious than the crashing waves.

“Catch them! They went inside!”

Armed gang members sprinted in unison. Ahead, a child wailed with a piercing cry. Barely out of the womb, the fragile baby, who should be sleeping soundly in a warm embrace, panted red-faced in the cold, damp night air and fog.

“Shh, be good, my baby…”

Mei hurriedly soothed the child. As a clumsy new mother, the baby didn’t stop crying easily. Yang Euijoo handed the bag to Mei and took the child instead. The baby’s eyes were the same brown as Mei’s. Yang Euijoo gently calmed the tiny, warm baby. He had cared for newborns a few times. Below deck, many things happened. A ten-year-old caring for the youngest infant was common.

“Be good, don’t trouble your mom.”

The baby, crying red-faced, whimpered and finally stopped. Yang Euijoo let the child hold his finger and looked at Mei. Cheon Yeomyung was fast. The port was packed with people, leaving no room to step. The ship blared a long horn, about to leave. Yang Euijoo grew anxious.

“…Mei, can you run more?”

“I can. I can run as much as needed.”

After nearly an hour of relentless running, both were drenched in sweat. Mei, holding her trembling legs, nodded. Yang Euijoo, meeting her eyes, smiled awkwardly.

“You’re amazing, Mei.”

It took him so long to decide this. But Mei was brave. Fearless, she trusted his word that she could save her child and followed. Yang Euijoo felt like a fool.

“Don’t stop running. Got the ticket?”

“Teacher…”

“I’ll follow soon. Don’t worry too much.”

Mei looked at Yang Euijoo with an anxious face. In the dark alley, avoiding the port’s ominous lights, Yang Euijoo’s face was red, then pale. He mouthed, “It’s okay,” and pushed her back.

“Pharmacist teacher…!”

“Let’s go.”

Raise the kid well. Saying that, Yang Euijoo ran out of the alley first.

“Found him! In front of A—17 container!”

A loud, chaotic voice burst from those chasing him, likely using radios. Yang Euijoo felt the man’s long, dark shadow pursuing his back. It seemed like he’d call his name with a benevolent voice any moment.

Both Yang Euijoo and Mei ran with all their might. It was a desperate sprint. They raced toward the docked ship. Mei’s curly brown hair caught the gang’s eyes.

“Catch the woman first! There she is!”

“Don’t let her go! Guard the ship’s entrance!”

Shouts roared one after another. Mei felt the weight of the bag on her shoulder. The baby whimpered again. Her feet tingled, fleeing from a warm cradle. Yang Euijoo ran in the opposite direction. His ragged breath filled his throat, but he didn’t stop.

At some point, Yang Euijoo realized his heels hurt terribly. The black canvas shoes still weren’t broken in. His ankles were sore. He recalled the melancholic promise to walk together until the shoes were worn in.

The man had tormented Yang Euijoo thoroughly before leaving for Macau at dawn. He’d have bought a Portuguese specialty gift there and returned with it in hand. He always brought back useless gifts from trips. This time, too, Cheon Yeomyung promised the same. He’d go to Macau soon and bring a gift. Yang Euijoo had known the schedule for about a week. His returns from Macau were always late. Yang Euijoo warned he’d throw flowers in the trash.

What gift did he buy today?

“Don’t shoot recklessly! They said not to hurt the woman!”

“The kid, get the kid! Where’s the kid?”

Hearing the rough voices, Yang Euijoo felt relief amidst it all. Even if Mei got caught, she wouldn’t be hurt. Even if he got hurt or died, Mei and the baby… Damn it, if he was going to die anyway, what did it matter if they were safe now? Thinking that, he ran. The dock was slippery. The closer to the sea, the stronger the salt smell.

Yang Euijoo was scared. The foam bubbled greasily. The devouring sea was terrifying. But he could no longer retreat. A life that never offered choices forced him down a single path. The full moon reflected on the empty dock jutting into the sea. It was bright. Without hesitation, Yang Euijoo threw himself into the sea.

“Damn it, no, pull him out!”

The dark blue sea that swallowed Yang Euijoo was too dirty and gray to see outside clearly. The full moon’s light shimmered faintly through the foul saltwater. The sky, now faced properly, glowed with a light that neither blamed nor praised Yang Euijoo’s choice. He still couldn’t swim. The water was terrifying. He felt the illusion of heavy clothes wrapping around him, pulling him down.

But he couldn’t help hearing the loud sound of foam in his water-clogged ears. Yang Euijoo saw someone piercing through the gray sea. The person was wearing black gloves. The man’s face was contorted. Yang Euijoo curled up his body, even as he sank in the seawater to avoid being seen clearly. Cheon Yeomyung, who had grabbed him, forcibly pulled him from the unfathomably deep sea to the surface, to the surface, against his will.

Soon, the two men, spat out from the black sea, landed on the hard concrete ground. The contrast was stark: Yang Euijoo, coughing and retching the water he had swallowed as soon as he was pulled up, and Cheon Yeomyung, standing firmly while irritably brushing back his wet hair. The subordinates, holding guns, silently stared at the boss’s hardened expression, who had been the first to dive into the sea.

Cheon Yeomyung looked at the brown curly wig tangled between his fingers. What he had pulled from the water was wearing a long dress that reached the ankles. It was a common outfit. A cotton dress, the kind Mei always wore when going to meet her. Soaked in seawater, it clung tightly to a familiar body, dripping with foul-smelling saltwater.

Cheon Yeomyung looked further down. The thin sneakers reaching the ankles, also soaked in seawater, stood out even more. Black canvas. Red wounds on the ankles, chafed inside the slightly loose sneakers. Why hadn’t he noticed it until now? Like a hunter slowly cornering prey, he only realized it when Yang Euijoo, driven to a dead end, jumped into the sea. Shoes that didn’t fit. A limping sprint from the pain.

“…Yang Euijoo.”

The man sighed. Soon, the brown curly wig rolled unceremoniously across the ground from his grip. The familiar gray hair, plastered messily to the cheeks and forehead, was a wreck with tears and dust.

“I’ve been had.”

Twice, no less. Cheon Yeomyung muttered, lifting his head. The ship was leaving the port. Even someone like Cheon Yeomyung couldn’t stop a departing ship. He soon let out a dry laugh.

This was a first for him. In the harsh seaside where only the overly arrogant survived, had he ever let prey slip away so futilely? He should have noticed the shoes just once. Seeing a woman with an unusually tall stature and running too well, he should have felt suspicion instead of the thrill of cornering prey.

A light like a swirling siren seemed to burn Yang Euijoo’s eyes. Even at dawn, a bright light, as if ablaze, pressed heavily on his back. With the cruise ship blaring a deathly horn-like scream as it left the port with a massive noise, Yang Euijoo felt the hand grabbing his hair.

“Euijoo, aren’t you scared?”

Cheon Yeomyung, still calling Yang Euijoo affectionately, tilted his head. For nearly two hours, while his subordinates chased the fleeing rats on the docks, he had been pondering. Why would someone like Yang Euijoo do something so reckless? Why hide it? Could this really be so urgent and desperate in Yang Euijoo’s life?

There was still no answer. Cheon Yeomyung had simply become someone betrayed by what he trusted and cherished.

“…And you?”

Finding the man who fell for the obvious disguise both laughable and terrifying, Yang Euijoo lifted his head, trembling. The man’s hollow expression came into view. Both were drenched in a mess. Recalling the moment Cheon Yeomyung grabbed him in the sea, Yang Euijoo let out a surge of despair.

“What makes you so righteous?”

Yang Euijoo accused the man.

“Did it feel good to plan to kill an unborn child? Aren’t you afraid of God?”

Even in the ridiculous disguise, his eyes were resolute, as if they wouldn’t break. Those eyes reproached Cheon Yeomyung. They condemned the things he had carelessly hidden, his half-hearted handling, and the consequences of his thoughtless trust. Cheon Yeomyung heard the sound of the ship’s horn fading behind Yang Euijoo. What he had prepared for Quan’s downfall and despair left in vain.

“God.”

The cold face muttered the unfamiliar word, tilting his head as if puzzled.

“What’s there to fear about something that doesn’t exist? Even if it did, could it be scarier than death?”

Cheon Yeomyung looked down at Yang Euijoo and asked. Yang Euijoo, pulled from the filthy seawater, writhed on the ground like a bug. Cheon Yeomyung’s face grew increasingly cold.

It had been a very short time. As soon as he noticed Yang Euijoo and Mei’s absence, he scanned the surroundings, formed hypotheses, filtered out the ships Mei might take, and kept an eye on Quan’s movements. It would be troublesome if Quan, realizing Mei was gone, interfered. While his nerves were on edge, Cheon Yeomyung thought about what expression to wear when facing Yang Euijoo again.

“You should have begged instead. If you had begged to be spared, I might have considered another way.”

But neither could make any expression. The lukewarm air, refusing to cool, seeped into their wet clothes. The salty sea breeze wildly tousled their disheveled hair.

“What are you thinking?”

Yang Euijoo muttered, scratching his hoarse throat.

“Should I have thought about what lies you’d tell next?”

“…”

“What trust is there between us?”

The ugly accusation pressed down on the now-silent port, where even the ship’s horn could no longer be heard. Cheon Yeomyung felt the wet clothes were unpleasant. He hadn’t planned for a day like this. This kind of plan was Yang Euijoo’s, so why should he, from dawn to dawn again, spend an entire day without compensation? But the uncomfortable thoughts were lightly cut off by Yang Euijoo’s words.

“Aren’t you afraid of the heavens?”

The man, looking at the tear-soaked Yang Euijoo, burst into laughter. The unrelenting, cheerful laugh aimed a gun at Yang Euijoo’s crude beliefs. Yang Euijoo recalled seeing that laugh once before, at the chimney house. Back then, too, he was captivated by the vibrant, shining smile, and Cheon Yeomyung, lips parted, whispered while folding his eyes. The man’s golden eyes, as always, gleamed enchantingly.

“Looking up to the heavens? There’s too much to be ashamed of.”

Above the confessing man’s head, an overly large, red full moon was visible. Cheon Yeomyung, as if atoning to a god, murmured politely and took a step toward Yang Euijoo. The hard shoe tapped the lifeless concrete ground. It was the sound of a judge delivering a verdict.

“That’s why we’re human, isn’t it?”

The moon set in the blink of an eye. It was Yeomyung heading west.