The Genius Decided To Live An Ordinary Life [EN]: Chapter 22

Jinhyuk had once lived at Choi Mikyung’s house.

It was when he was left alone.

His grandmother didn’t scold Jinhyuk, who was huddled in a corner, nor did she try to comfort him on purpose.

She would only cast a pitiful gaze from afar. It seemed like her own way of comforting him.

‘That’s why I don’t remember much.’

In the past few years, his grandmother had been spending less time at Choi Mikyung’s house, as she was busy taking care of her daughters who lived scattered around. To be precise, she was going to Seoul and Daejeon to look after her grandchildren. While telling Jinhyuk this story, Choi Mikyung would whine about missing her grandmother.

– “My aunt’s older siblings are all grown up, they’ve gone to college and even got married!”

Choi Mikyung probably knew it too.

Her mother’s heart, trying to convey her apologies for not being able to take care of all her children and only educating her youngest son. The grandmother’s efforts to fill the void left by her daughter who had passed away first.

“Hey, what should I do with this?”

He carefully walked the mountain path he used to run on, lost in his own thoughts.

It was a strange and miraculous event, but keeping it to himself might make him sick. There wasn’t even a bamboo forest near his house. A place to shout, “The king’s ears are donkey ears.” [A Korean expression used to vent secrets or frustrations]

‘She told me not to, so I have to endure it. Mikyung’s family must be having the hardest time.’

She was so healthy, even though she was well over eighty. Her energy had waned, and she came to see her youngest son, only to collapse as soon as she returned.

Jo Ilheon had said something like that.

– “How can an old woman who has been touching dirt and smelling compost all her life live in the city? If she gets used to that, she’ll get sick.”

It must have been the day when Park Daesoon, Jo Ilheon’s best friend, had run away with his wife and children. He had come to Jinhyuk’s house to complain about Park Daesoon’s disappearance, and that was when he had said it by chance.

Now that he thought about it, that made sense.

Wasn’t it like a homesickness that his grandmother had developed while wandering around the city?

It was also like that when she recited her life story before she left.

‘She must have been lonely.’

She had wandered around the city, taking care of her children and grandchildren, and had become sick at heart, her energy depleted from fighting loneliness without anyone to talk to.

Thinking about it again, it seemed like the right thing to do.

To silently listen to the twists and turns of his grandmother’s life. Perhaps, by doing so, she had been able to let go of all the unresolved grievances she had. She had even joked around and smiled brightly.

‘Inventory!’

It was a miracle, but she didn’t leave him anything.

He didn’t gain any abilities, but well, he did a good deed.

Jinhyuk praised himself.

Jinhyuk’s steps were light as he descended the mountain.

He kept muttering like a monk chanting in the rain.

“…A subspace suit, appear, appear, lottery numbers, stock information, come to mind, come to mind…”

Mutter, mutter.

He felt embarrassed and scratched the back of his head.

It felt like someone was laughing behind his back, so he decided to stop there.

***

“Our Janggun, should your big brother give you a hug?”

Hehehek-?

Janggun tilted his head, as if wondering what he was saying.

Seeing him act even though he understood, he might be a fox rather than a mutt or a lion.

Anyway, he was a creature that couldn’t talk. Jinhyuk decided to do as he pleased.

“Oof, you’re heavy.”

He lifted him up, feeling the weight but not struggling at all. It was an ironic sensation of feeling the weight but not finding it heavy. Strength was indeed a good thing.

When Jinhyuk came down from the mountain, Janggun was climbing that rough mountain path with his short legs. He had an expression that reminded him of Manager Min Yongrak, who was going in and out of the bathroom with gastroenteritis.

He ran to Jinhyuk and licked his face, panting, and Jinhyuk seemed to understand what he meant.

There were things that could be understood without having to say them.

Jinhyuk held Janggun and walked slowly.

He was pondering his grandmother’s advice.

‘Live joyfully and have fun?’

Besides living with his family, what other fun things could there be?

In the summer and fall, they would pick and eat all kinds of fruits, and in the winter, they would roast sweet potatoes, chestnuts, and potatoes.

Perhaps because his body was growing so rapidly, eating was the most enjoyable thing.

Would other fun things come along as he lived?

“Janggun, when are you the happiest?”

Whine-whine.

Janggun struggled. It seemed like he wanted to be put down.

He jumped down before Jinhyuk could even fully lower him to the ground.

“You want to run?”

Woof!

He wagged his tail like a propeller and looked back at Jinhyuk, as if suggesting a race.

He really did understand human words.

“If I win, two mangdengi!” [A type of sea squirt, often eaten as a delicacy]

Hehehehek! Daddadak-.

Without even a starting signal, Janggun veered off the path and disappeared into the forest.

It was like a dog using light footwork, a false start and a course deviation all at once.

“Hehehehe-.”

A spontaneous, cheerful sound burst out.

Jinhyuk’s feet powerfully kicked off the paved road.

‘Running is the most fun,’ he muttered.

***

Jo Ilheon drove around the neighborhood in his cultivator. The cargo bed was full of food.

They were boiled eggs, rice cakes, pancakes, and fruits in clear, thin plastic lunch boxes, sealed with rubber bands.

It was said to be a return gift to the neighbors. To thank them for their condolences, and to tell them not to skip meals even if they couldn’t come to the funeral. It was a glimpse into Choi Janghwan’s character. It was a heartwarming scene, even though it was a sad occasion.

The neighborhood’s elementary school kids excitedly chased after the cultivator, receiving handfuls of snacks. Some had wooden tops and whips, as if they had come from playing with tops, while others had kites shaped like shields or stingrays tucked under their arms.

No one scolded the kids.

‘They’re at a good age.’

The kids who knew nothing and had no worries were the true masters of this world.

The neighborhood adults set up several tents in the yard of Choi Mikyung’s house. They were the same tents that were set up on one side of the school playground during the school sports day, with the village name printed on them.

Jinhyuk’s family practically lived at Choi Mikyung’s house during the funeral.

Han Yooyoung helped with cooking, cleaning, and comforted Kim Soonbok, Choi Mikyung’s mother, whenever she had a chance. She still had her young daughter, Son Yoojin, strapped to her back in a carrier. She still didn’t talk much.

Son Kwangyeon stayed by the bereaved, Choi Janghwan, at the front gate, constantly talking to him, worried that he might be having a hard time.

The bereaved, Choi Janghwan, was wearing a yellowish hemp mourning robe, holding a thick, long bamboo stick with both hands, touching the ground in front of him.

“If you’re tired, hyung, I can take over-.”

“No. This is how it’s done. It’s not because I’m tired, you know?”

“Ah…”

Choi Janghwan chuckled at Son Kwangyeon’s appearance, even in mourning. He was a younger brother who was doing well enough, but still had much to learn.

The two men stood together at the front gate, chatting.

Then, when mourners arrived, Choi Janghwan would softly wail, “Aigoo- aigoo-,” in a deep voice. Some children were giggling at the sight.

Son Kwangyeon, who had initially just blinked, also started to follow the wailing, but Choi Janghwan didn’t scold him.

‘This is the first time I’ve seen a funeral like this.’

It was a fresh shock to Jinhyuk, who was used to funerals in the city.

Children were running around, neighborhood dogs were sniffing around for greasy food, and on one side, women were constantly cooking and washing dishes.

There were also some men playing yut [a traditional Korean board game] or go-stop [a Korean card game].

‘I hate crowds, but I like this.’

It was a situation where he shouldn’t like it, but his heart was strangely warm.

Was that what it meant when they said it was good to have a lot of people at a funeral?

He could even feel a sense of warmth.

Just then, an ajumma [aunt/middle-aged woman] who was helping with the work forcefully handed a black plastic bag to Kim Eunjeong’s father.

“Hey, Eunjeong’s father! Take this. Feed it to Eunjeong and Hoonam too-.”

“Aigoo, why are you giving us so much-.”

“Aren’t you going to have another drink at home-.”

“Is there pickled grasshopper in it too?”

“Of course, what are you talking about-.”

It contained precious raw beef, skate fish salad, rice cakes, and pancakes. It was sealed with a semi-transparent white plastic bag and then covered with another black bag. In the countryside, if a funeral didn’t have raw beef and skate fish salad, people would gossip that the family was uncultured. If one more thing was added to this, it would be the three kings of a feast, but it was too noisy, and he couldn’t hear it properly.

“I’ll go feed the cows and come back, so don’t go anywhere-.”

Kim Eunjeong’s father, who had checked the pollock pancakes and various other pancakes for the children, grinned and went back. He was determined to win money in the go-stop game tonight.

Jinhyuk, along with Choi Taeyang, set the table, cleared it, and carried food non-stop.

‘My hometown, it was really a good place.’

Jinhyuk didn’t know how to comfort people.

However, it wasn’t difficult to understand the feelings of someone who needed comfort.

He just wondered if his friend Choi Mikyung was having a hard time or was sad. Even while carrying food, he would check on her from time to time.

Choi Mikyung was wearing a white skirt and jacket, following her mother, Kim Soonbok, with her hair tied up and a black ribbon. She looked elegant with a black hairpin. She said she didn’t wear a hairpin because she didn’t put her hair up. It looked exotic to Jinhyuk, who had lived in the 21st century. It was like glimpsing the culture of another world.

“When I was born, my grandmother hit my butt too hard, and it’s still blue. Look here-. I’ll show you, just you-.”

“Ah, I believe you without seeing it.”

Jinhyuk was horrified as Choi Mikyung tried to lift her skirt. He firmly held onto his friend’s skirt so it wouldn’t go up.

Choi Mikyung had cried a lot on the first day, but now she seemed okay.

Her bloodshot eyes were now clear, contrasting black and white, as if she had never cried.

“How can you believe it if you haven’t seen it?”

“…There are things like that.”

Choi Mikyung nodded.

‘She believes me,’ he muttered.

‘Maybe I can tell Mikyung.’

The fact that she went to a good place.

If he told his friend about the mystery he had experienced, wouldn’t it ease her sadness?

“Mikyung, your grandmother must have gone to a good place.”

“Yeah. She became a fairy.”

Jinhyuk’s eyes widened.

She told him to keep it a secret, but did she go around telling everyone? Was it not special that she had left a long story just for Jinhyuk?

He didn’t think his grandmother was like that.

“My grandmother appeared in my dream yesterday. She was wearing fairy wings and looked like a very, very pretty older sister, but I knew it was my grandmother at first glance. She didn’t say anything special, but it seemed like she came to say goodbye. She appeared in my mom, dad, and brother’s dreams too-.”

Choi Mikyung, who was telling her dream story with her arms wide open to emphasize “very,” looked excited.

Jinhyuk just nodded silently while Choi Mikyung was talking.

She really did appear in their dreams. He almost misunderstood.

Just by seeing her dressed up nicely and ascending to the heavens through Fairy Rock in her youthful form, it must mean that his grandmother was a precious person.

“-Mom said that’s why the memorial service will be held at Fairy Rock.”

“Let’s go too. When they hold the memorial service.”

“Okay-.”

Jinhyuk had gained a grandmother.

He had lived in an era where only those who had learned a lot and had a lot were treated with respect.

Accustomed to the world, there were times when Jinhyuk also saw the world with similar standards.

Now, there was no need to do that.

‘I have to live kindly. Righteously. While protecting my family.’

He nodded involuntarily.

He had a clear goal of living for his family in this life.

Jinhyuk, who had been squatting under the eaves, shook off his bottom and stood up.

Choi Mikyung grabbed Jinhyuk’s arm.

“There aren’t many people yet since it’s still morning, let’s play more.”

“Ah, I’m just that…”

The yukgaejang [spicy beef soup with vegetables] was so delicious.

There was also beef radish soup for people who couldn’t eat spicy food, but yukgaejang was definitely the best for Jinhyuk’s taste.

He had already eaten six bowls, would they look at him strangely if he ate more?

Seeing that he didn’t get a stomachache or have to go to the bathroom even after eating so much, it seemed like he was going to grow a lot. He decided to restrain himself for Janggun’s sake. He had been eating pancakes and sliced pork every time, as if he liked eating with Jinhyuk. If he ate more, his stomach might burst.

Jinhyuk smacked his lips and squatted down.

‘Yeah. What are friends for.’

He wished lunchtime would come soon. Jinhyuk muttered inwardly, looking at the flower bier that was decorated lavishly.

“Uuuuuaaah-.”

He yawned, having eaten too much yukgaejang, rice, meat, and pancakes. His body felt sluggish since he wasn’t exercising. His house was close by, should he go home and take a nap? Having a house was indeed a good thing. He missed the days when he would lie down on the warm floor, covered with a blanket, and sweat it out.

“If you’re sleepy, do you want to go up to my room on the second floor and take a nap?”

“No. I have a room too.”

Choi Mikyung sighed deeply. Son Jinhyuk’s room was better, though.

“I liked spring break because there was no homework. It’s already sixth grade. Time really flies.”

“……”

What kind of reaction would this child have if he knew that time was getting faster and faster?

He wouldn’t believe it. It was true that time was slow while you were a child.

‘Spring break is good, though.’

Because he could spend the whole day with his family.

School would start in three days.

Hehehe-.

Janggun, who was lying next to Jinhyuk and sweeping the floor with his tail, rested his chin on his front paws. He only rolled his big eyes upwards, giving a look of regret. He had eaten so much that his belly looked as if he was pregnant.

The wind blew.

The wind, carrying the smell of earth, had the warmth of spring in it.

The two friends took a deep breath.

It wasn’t bad to feel like they were growing up together, sharing the same time.

It was a sense of belonging that he had never felt from anyone before.

“It smells like my grandmother.”

Choi Mikyung’s eyes were moist as she smiled, revealing her neat white teeth.