The Genius Decided To Live An Ordinary Life [EN]: Chapter 118

There was no time to carve a new stick. Mantis shrimps could only be caught during low tide. The water would start receding soon, so there was no time to leisurely carve a stick.

‘Let’s borrow one from Young-gu’s place. If it breaks, we can just make a new one.’

‘Yes.’

Holding two bamboo baskets, Jin-hyuk sat on the back of Jo Il-heon’s scooter.

Oaeeng-aeng-aeng-.

The scooter, carrying two strong men including Jin-hyuk, struggled up the hill. As they reached the top of the hill, smelling the gasoline from the small single-cylinder engine, the whole neighborhood came into view.

‘Nothing much has changed.’

Except for the construction of the waterways and the grass fields, Jin-hyuk’s hometown looked just as it did when he was a child.

He used to visit his hometown by bus sometimes. That was when he was a middle school student, longing for his home, his parents, Jang-gun, and Choi Mi-kyung’s family.

Back then, the mountains were being dug up for development, including the hill where Jin-hyuk used to play. The oak trees where he caught stag beetles every summer, the chestnut trees where he gathered chestnuts in the fall, and the pine trees where he broke off twigs in the winter were all felled without resistance to build a pension or resort. The magnificent rock where he and Mi-kyung used to play war games with buckets on their heads was smashed to pieces.

‘Mi-kyung and I even had water gun fights with buckets on our heads.’

But now, the hill that Jin-hyuk loved, the reservoir, and the stream all existed as if time had stopped. Just as he had always been.

‘It’s because Dad didn’t dig up the land that it hasn’t changed.’

Son Gwang-yeon said he loved the scenery of Dunae-ri, where the mountains, sea, and fields harmonized, and he wanted it to stay the same. That’s why he bought the unproductive hills and wouldn’t sell them.

It was a stark reminder of how much influence one person could have on the world.

When they arrived at Yuk Seong-chan’s house, the high-explosive incident from last fall came to mind. The gate of Yuk Seong-chan’s house had been neatly repaired.

Yuk Seong-chan, a teenager with a face smudged with soot from working on his motorcycle without a license, greeted them.

‘Hello, sir.’

‘Hey! You rascal! What’s with calling a bachelor like me ‘sir’!’

Jo Il-heon yelled, pretending to be angry.

Jo Il-heon was a disruptive force, messing up the neighborhood’s family tree. Because he was older, most of the men called him ‘hyung’ [older brother], but Jo Il-heon, emphasizing that he was unmarried, insisted that their sons and daughters also call him ‘hyung’ or ‘oppa’ [older brother, used by females].

‘Ah-. What brings you here so early, Il-heon hyung?’

‘Yeah, yeah. Go get that jewel-like stick from Seung-chan and Gwang.’

‘Ah, are you going to catch mantis shrimp? Just a moment.’

Watching Yuk Seong-chan’s retreating figure, Jin-hyuk fell into thought.

His dad also called Jo Il-heon ‘hyung.’ But Jo Il-heon, just like he did with Yuk Seong-chan, also demanded that Jin-hyuk call him ‘hyung.’

‘Then, is Dad my dad or my little hyung?’

It was a question with a predetermined answer, but it was a common concern for any kid in the neighborhood.

The best option was to avoid using any title for Jo Il-heon, the family tree disruptor.

It was an easy task for Jin-hyuk, who preferred direct conversations.

‘Isn’t Seong-chan’s uncle going to catch mantis shrimp today?’

At Jin-hyuk’s question, Jo Il-heon’s face twisted into a grumpy expression.

Jo Il-heon then whispered in a low voice.

‘Young-gu tied him up yesterday. That guy’s a eunuch now.’

‘Ah-.’

Then he shouldn’t overdo it, of course.

But does it hurt a lot?

The ever-cheerful Yuk Seong-chan came out of the gate, swinging the mantis shrimp stick like a club.

‘Is the class president going to catch mantis shrimp too?’

‘Yeah.’

‘The class president will do well. You’re good at everything.’

Yuk Seong-chan, who was in the same class as him this year, sniffed his nose.

He was already in the second year of middle school, but just like in elementary school, his friends seemed more comfortable calling Jin-hyuk class president or student council president.

‘It wasn’t like this in my past life. Am I acting too old for my age?’

Even Jo Seul-chan was like that.

He enjoyed calling him ‘boss’ instead of his name. Jin-hyuk figured it was because his friends found it difficult to approach him, and a bitter smile spread across his face.

***

Po-ok! Pok!

Jo Il-heon followed the receding seawater, poking at the holes.

He was definitely a man worthy of the nickname ‘walking encyclopedia.’ He was knowledgeable in theory and skilled in practice. Every time he pulled out the stick he had poked in, a mantis shrimp would appear at the entrance of the hole.

It was a sight that even Jin-hyuk, who rarely showed his emotions, couldn’t help but admire.

‘Wow! Amazing.’

‘If you’re born a man, you gotta poke like this guy.’

It was a statement that made Jin-hyuk feel a bit self-conscious, but what nonsense was that between two unmarried men? Jin-hyuk suppressed his rising complaints and focused on understanding the working principle.

‘You block it tightly and then apply back pressure.’

Jin-hyuk was an expert at analyzing things and phenomena. Mastering a simple working principle like this was a piece of cake.

Poong-! A stream of water shot up.

Indeed, it was reminiscent of the manual pump in the yard when he lived in the mud house.

‘The holes look like this. Even if you can’t find the holes, it’s okay. These guys make a ‘puff-puff’ sound when they breathe, so if you go where the sound is, you’ll see the holes.’

‘Yes.’

‘Now, you try. You’re competing with this guy.’

‘Competing?’

Ah, he hated competing.

But he swallowed his words because he was grateful to the man.

Jo Il-heon chuckled.

‘The one who catches the least loses.’

Of course, that would be the case. Would there be a competition where the person who catches the most loses?

‘But what’s the prize for the competition?’

‘You have to call me ‘hyung’.’

Jo Il-heon’s eyes gleamed.

He was hiding his sharpness within his easygoing personality, and he had figured out that Jin-hyuk had difficulty calling him ‘hyung.’ Still, what was so important about that ‘hyung’ sound that he would even make a bet?

But for Jin-hyuk, it was a proposal he had nothing to lose from. It wasn’t difficult to call him ‘hyung.’

Jo Il-heon must have thought he would win, so he made that bet.

‘Alright! Ready, set, go!’

Jo Il-heon shouted energetically.

Jin-hyuk inserted the jewel-like stick into the hole as he had learned from Jo Il-heon and pulled it out quickly. When pushing it in, twist it slowly, and when pulling it out, do it in one go!

Puff-! Swish-!

Puff! Puff! Puff!

Swack! Swack! Swish-!

Mantis shrimps shot up everywhere in the mudflat. They flipped over on the mud, wriggling, and were caught by Jin-hyuk and put into the bamboo basket.

‘What the?’

Jo Il-heon’s jaw dropped at the sight he was seeing for the first time. It was as if someone was throwing the mantis shrimps out of the mudflat. What the? That’s a crab hole?

Poong-! A crab also flew out.

Watching the middle schooler poking at the holes without discrimination, Jo Il-heon felt like he had chosen the wrong opponent.

‘This is a mess… It looks like I’m going to end up calling him ‘Seong’?’

Jo Il-heon hurriedly began searching for holes. Where did all the holes that were so easy to see disappear to? He muttered in vain.

Hehehehe-.

Was this the spirit of a second-year middle schooler? Jin-hyuk couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Just try not calling me ‘hyung’.’

I’ll make an announcement at the village hall that he’s a promise-breaker.

Jin-hyuk transferred the mantis shrimps that filled half of the bamboo basket into the net and began poking the stick again with fervor.

Pok-! Pok-! Puff! Poong-!

***

Tultaltaltal-.

No matter how busy he was, Son Gwang-yeon had to farm the food for his family himself. Yu-jin, holding a persimmon, sat on her dad’s lap, enjoying the vibrations. The soft, brown soil, moist with humidity, was finely crushed by the medium-sized tiller.

‘Why did you come out?’

Son Gwang-yeon, who had finished digging the furrows and building the ridges, looked at Han Yu-young with concern.

His wife, with her bulging belly, was putting on gloves.

‘I want to plant too. I need to move around to stay healthy.’

‘Okay. Don’t overdo it, and take it slow.’

Han Yu-young picked out the small stones that occasionally appeared and buried the seed potatoes, cut in half and coated with ash, one by one.

‘I want to plant too.’

Yu-jin had started calling herself ‘I’ instead of her name at some point. The interrogative tone had also begun to disappear, and it seemed like she was slowly establishing her ego.

Yu-jin clumsily imitated what her mom was doing, and Son Gwang-yeon silently followed behind, properly planting what his daughter had planted incorrectly.

Jang-gun and Hong-si also dug the ground with their snouts. They seemed to be imitating what the people were doing, but it had been a mystery for years why dogs dug with their snouts instead of their paws.

Son Gwang-yeon called Jang-gun, whose nose and whiskers were covered in dirt.

‘Jang-gun, why do you dig with your nose?’

Because you do that, Hong-si is following you.

Woof-.

What are you saying…

Son Gwang-yeon, an intellectual and a man from Seoul, couldn’t understand dog language either. He heard that Jae-young’s Doberman had dug up all the straw covering the garlic field when it was off its leash, but Jang-gun didn’t run away with the planted potatoes, so he could be considered a dog with some farming sense.

‘They say the dirt doesn’t run away when you dig with your nose.’

At Yu-jin’s translation, Son Gwang-yeon and Han Yu-young’s eyes widened at the same time. Could it be that our daughter understands dog language?

But looking at their daughter, who was smiling with her eyes narrowed, the couple chuckled.

Six years old, their daughter was finally reaching the age where she understood humor.

‘Jin-hyuk also said a lot of absurd things at that age.’

When Jin-hyuk was seven years old, he would often say ridiculous things, like how he went to the top of Gubong Mountain and peeled off the sky’s shell, revealing a dark space. He even said that there were net-like lines on the sky’s shell.

It must have been nonsense inspired by the globe he saw in a book.

Son Gwang-yeon looked at Jang-gun and Hong-si, who were digging in the same position, their black noses turning brown.

‘The dirt doesn’t fly around, though.’

The dirt just moved softly, and it didn’t fly around chaotically like when they dug with their paws. The sight of the dogs’ noses and snouts covered in dirt always made him laugh.

He was chuckling when Jang Jin-nam, a muscular man wearing an apron over his short-sleeved t-shirt, appeared.

‘Boss, I want to help too.’

‘Okay. It’s good to work together.’

He had told SSS not to bother helping, but it would be okay for them to help a little since it was food they would all eat together.

Thinking that, he also greeted Min Yong-rak, who had followed Jang Jin-nam, with a nod.

‘But where’s Jin-hyuk?’

‘He went to the sea without eating breakfast.’

‘The sea?’

At Jang Jin-nam’s question, Han Yu-young, who was listening, scratched her cheek with her dirt-covered hand.

‘I think he went because I said I wanted to eat mantis shrimp. I feel bad.’

He was a student who only had one day off a week, but he went to do unfamiliar mudflat work for his mom, so she couldn’t help but feel sorry. Han Yu-young imagined mantis shrimp stew, steamed mantis shrimp, seasoned mantis shrimp, and fried mantis shrimp, and she swallowed her saliva. It was the influence of her instinctive pig-like power, acting separately from her guilt.

***

Because the potato field was so large, the potato planting only finished around lunchtime.

It was only possible to finish in the morning because Jin-hyuk and Jo Il-heon, who had returned from the sea, also helped.

‘Ah-. Do I just need to coat them in flour and fry them?’

‘Yes. Chef, you’re so skilled, they’ll be even more delicious.’

Jang Jin-nam received the mantis shrimp recipe from Han Yu-young. He listened, nodding without taking notes, and his eyes sparkled every time he nodded, as if he had some kind of memorization superpower.

Min Yong-rak thought that the recipe was stored in Jang Jin-nam’s muscles. Yesterday, he had eaten a side dish of a crab called ‘neungjae’ [a type of small crab] that an old woman in the neighborhood had given him, seasoned with chili powder, and it was so delicious that he had unknowingly shed tears.

‘Wow, you caught a lot.’

Son Gwang-yeon looked into the bamboo basket and the net with amazed eyes. Every year around this time, he was too busy preparing for farming to even think about going to the sea, so he had never caught mantis shrimp, nor had he ever seen a live one.

‘Let’s go again when Jin-hyuk’s dad isn’t busy. They’re the most delicious when they’re full of eggs these days.’

‘Okay, hyung. That sounds fun.’

Even picking up a fingernail-sized clam in the mudflat was enjoyable.

A childlike smile appeared on Son Gwang-yeon’s face for the first time in a while.

‘It looks like you two caught a thousand of them. Oh, I’m going to die.’

Jo Il-heon, adding his usual exaggeration, patted his shoulder. Jo Il-heon had frantically swung his poking stick to avoid losing the bet with Jin-hyuk. As a result, his body ached, and he felt dizzy.

Jin-hyuk smiled happily and showed everyone the harvest.

‘Let’s share some with Mi-kyung’s family too. It would be nice if my uncles could cook some too.’

‘Okay. You worked hard. Go wash up and let’s have lunch.’

Lunch was decided to be steamed mantis shrimp and kimchi stew with lots of pork.

Jo Il-heon, saying he would go home to wash up and get some makgeolli [Korean rice wine], slowly left his seat.

Then, he made eye contact with Jin-hyuk and said in a barely audible voice.

‘I’ll be back, Seong-nim.’

Okay.

Jin-hyuk muttered in an even smaller voice.

His posture, with his hands behind his back and blinking his eyes, was exactly like that of an old man.