As Giju Wishes Chapter 3.6

What made Choi Geon’s blood boil even more here was the simpleton Shin Giju, who was giggling while spraying water, having the time of his life. That ghost-like old man, whether his name was Baekryeon or Baekbong, had surely eaten away at the already lacking brain of Shin Giju. Otherwise, a human being could not be so stupid.

A grim sound of grinding teeth escaped from between his clenched jaw.

“Let’s just cut off your fucking hand and offer it as a sacrifice.”

“There’s a rainbow on your body, too.”

It was the kind of bullshit that made him lose all will to fight. Choi Geon clutched his forehead, feeling a dizzy spell coming on.

“Ah shit, I’m really dizzy.”

“It’s almost snack time, let’s just hang in there a little longer.”

Giju, turning off the hose, encouraged Choi Geon like a farmer and squatted back down to pick chili peppers. Seeing this, Choi Geon momentarily snapped, picked up a chili pepper from the ground, and threw it at Giju.

“Ah!”

Giju, suddenly hit in the head with a chili pepper, covered his head with his hands as if wronged.

“Why’d you hit me?”

“Hey.”

When Giju just stared blankly, Choi Geon, frustrated, shot up from his spot.

“How can the word ‘snack time’ even come out of your mouth right now?”

“Monk Baekryeon said we need to eat snacks to get our strength up.”

Choi Geon stared with the dead eyes of a rotten fish at Giju, who respectfully called the evil employer exploiting child labor ‘Monk Baekryeon,’ and shook his head as if denying reality.

“This is not right.”

There was a limit to his patience. He should have just demanded money; what was this bizarre charade? The moment he caught himself checking if a chili pepper was ripe or not, a deep sense of reality hit him. With his phone confiscated, he might become a slave here under the pretext of the ritual tool.

“Hap!”

Just then, a spirited shout came from the top of the hill above them. Baekryeon always trained in that spot. It was a place with a very clear view of Giju and Choi Geon. As if he were watching them.

“That crazy old man.”

Seeing the sharp swing of his knife-hand, Choi Geon, as if about to lose his sanity at any moment, gripped a chili pepper in his hand like a knife.

“Don’t be like that, Geon. The energy of this mountain is really good. Monk Baekryeon is so old, but he’s so energetic. There must be a reason he’s making us work. Since Monk Baekryeon is a sage who even practices martial arts, he can probably feel the spirits of this mountain strongly. Besides, the ritual tool of Manshin Bari has an incredibly sacred energy,”

“Haaaap!!”

“Ah, I should show this to Monk Baekryeon.”

At another spirited shout, Giju, as if to boast that he was working hard, cheerfully shook the chili peppers he had picked toward Baekryeon.

Watching this, Choi Geon decided he had to steal the ritual tool and get out of here as soon as possible. Being stuck between a crazy old man and a simpleton was making him feel like he was becoming an idiot. The light in Choi Geon’s eyes, whose patience was wearing thin, glinted fiercely.

From the next day on, Choi Geon began to wander the inside of the temple, using the excuse of going to the bathroom or getting a drink of water. Whether he knew it or not, Baekryeon appeared and disappeared like a ghost, busy with his training. Because of this, Choi Geon became even more on edge, walking around with his guard up like a wild beast of the mountain. Both in his appearance and his personality.

Sometimes he would go deep into the mountains to train under a waterfall, but though he called it training, he strangely smelled of charcoal. It seemed like his belly had gotten a bit bigger, and his complexion looked strangely better, as if he had been eating something delicious all by himself. But even that was just suspicion without proof, so he couldn’t even complain and could only seethe beside him.

After spending the whole day in such a heated state, pulling weeds, harvesting, sowing seeds, and watering, even the energetic Choi Geon would be exhausted. But Choi Geon did not waver one bit. He would pretend to be asleep, and when it seemed Baekryeon was asleep, he would go out like a ghost and tenaciously search every nook and cranny of the temple.

By now, the darkness was no longer an obstacle. As if he had really become a ghost, his night vision had improved recently, and he could see things that were vaguely shaped. More than anything, after about ten days, only malice and venom remained, and he had the spirit to continue searching even if he had gone blind.

“If Baekgwang and I fought, who do you think would win?”

Choi Geon asked Giju, who was eating memorial rite food across from him.

“Who’s Baekgwang?”

“That crazy bald bastard, who else.”

He would rather die than let the name Baekryeon escape his lips. A white lotus, that crazy old man had no shame.

“There’s no reason to fight, so why would you?”

Giju said, chewing on the seasoned vegetables like a cow.

“I’m telling you, I search this fucking abandoned house every day, and there’s not even a hint of a bell. That bastard is a con man.”

He spoke with great conviction.

“He’s not a con man.”

“How would you know?”

“He noticed that your soul is ugly.”

Choi Geon, who had been listening quietly, glared and threw the chopsticks he was holding onto the table.

“When I become an evil spirit, you’re number one on my list to be eliminated, got it?”

“That’s so mean.”

“Mean my ass, if you were as mean as me, I would have died from injustice long ago. You son of a bitch!”

As soon as he finished speaking, as if to show his resentment, Choi Geon shoved all of Giju’s favorite vegetable side dishes into his mouth. Giju, who licked his lips in disappointment as all the side dishes disappeared, put the last spoonful of plain rice into his mouth, stood up, and went to the memorial tablet at the back. Then he extinguished the incense in front of the tablet.

Unable to eat the memorial rite food at home, what he had brought was a memorial tablet with a paper bearing the name of a deity. All the other food and offering bowls were in the temple, so he held a simplified memorial rite every day.

After that first night he slept out, Giju’s aunt, Park Yeonhwa, surprisingly did not oppose him sleeping out. She just gave him the memorial tablet and told him to be sure to hold a rite, even if it was just with a bowl of water.

The name on the paper, written in ink, was written by his grandmother, Park Shinja, herself.

“Why didn’t you bring that evil spirit painting, too?”

Choi Geon, glaring at Giju—who was vigorously wiping the already clean memorial tablet with his fingertips, which were scarred from the hard farm work—with even more disdain than the day before, asked sarcastically. Truly, from head to toe, even the background, he disliked everything. That memorial tablet was an even more unpleasant object than the memorial rite food.

“The Buddhist painting? It’s in my bag.”

Just in case, Giju had brought that too. At that, Choi Geon let out a hollow laugh.

“You really came prepared.”

“You never know. The painting is a backup….”

The irritation he felt from Shin Giju’s meticulously prepared ghost game was as intense as when he was pulling weeds.

“But Geon.”

Annoyed, Choi Geon didn’t even answer.

“Do you think the tomatoes will be ripe tomorrow?”

Watching Giju, who had not only adapted to the slave life but was now feeling a sense of accomplishment, Choi Geon was momentarily at a loss for words. He knew Shin Giju wasn’t in his right mind, but he was feeling rewarded for unpaid labor even as he was becoming skin and bones.

“Shin Giju.”

A low, cold voice called out to Giju.

“Yeah?”

“Listen to me carefully.”

“I’m listening.”

“We are getting out of here before those damn tomatoes ripen.”

Giju’s eyes filled with question.

“We haven’t gotten the ritual tool yet,”

“Hey.”

Choi Geon called out, cutting Giju off.

“Have you ever considered that the legendary ritual tool might have unluckily fallen into the hands of a con man?”

At the unexpected words, Giju’s eyes widened.

“Think about it. He claims to be some kind of sage, but he eats meat all by himself? He’s getting fatter by the day? While I’m fucking wasting away?”

“Sages can also eat meat and gain weight, mmph!”

Choi Geon slapped Giju’s lips with his palm as if to shut him up.

“That crazy old man has no intention of giving it to us in the first place.”

Giju shook his head.

“The ritual tool of Manshin Bari was never ours to begin with, and we can offer this much service to the temple, mmph!”

Smack!

Choi Geon slapped Giju’s mouth with his palm again.

“Service my ass, this is child labor exploitation. I guarantee you, Buddha is going to strike Baekgwang with lightning.”

“…The child monks are even younger than us.”

“How old are those things.”

“Around six or seven.”

Smack!

This time, he smacked his mouth a beat later. Choi Geon was only frustrated with Giju, who had been thoroughly caught in Baekryeon’s clutches.

“Hey, hey, Buddha is their guardian. What about us, who’s our guardian? You have that devil, no, that ghost grandmother protecting you, but I have jack shit. Who’s going to protect me, huh? The mountain spirit? His powers have worn off, and I’m getting drenched with water by you. Who’s going to protect a young and weak person like me? Hah, I really didn’t want to show you this.”

Agitated, Choi Geon suddenly rolled up his pants. The revealed calf had a bruise so dark it looked black. Giju stared at Choi Geon blankly in shock.

“Baekgwang did this, this, he did this shit. Because I have no connections, he did this shit.”

Choi Geon shoved his calf right in the shocked Giju’s face.

“You were hit by a wooden staff…?”

“Yeah. I was hit by Baekgwang’s wooden staff. If I’m lying, may I sell my soul to a ghost.”

Choi Geon replied seriously without a change in his expression. In reality, he had gotten it from kicking Baekryeon’s swinging wooden staff in a fit of his own anger, but since he was hit by Baekgwang’s wooden staff anyway, it wasn’t a lie.

“I knew this would happen when he was swinging it around in a trance. Did you see me limping?”

As he said, Baekryeon did indeed practice his staff skills with his eyes closed, in a state of self-forgetfulness.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“A lot? Can’t you see my leg is in tatters? I might even have to get my fingers amputated because of the plant rash, and all you can say is ‘a lot’?”

As he even shook his green-stained fingers, the soft-hearted Giju couldn’t bring himself to say ‘just bear with it a little longer.’

“Then….”

“In that case, there’s only one answer.”