As Prophet - Chapter 98



Only Krnovel

Episode 98. Old Fragrance

After studying for a little less than an hour, I ran into the kitchen. I picked up a bucket of water, put on my back, and ran down the valley. There was a steep slope at the end of the yard that I had barely made, but I jumped all the way down and jumped like a grasshopper down to the water’s edge. I washed my hands and face in the small pool formed by the water flowing down between the rocks. A cool breeze blew by.

The grass that had been waiting for dawn began to raise a pure white fog as it chased away the darkness. I scooped up water and hung it on my back, then ran up the mountain. There was no need to worry about other people’s eyes here. I felt like I was flying as I jumped up, holding on to a dozen or so pieces at a time.

I searched through my bag and found some grains that Do-saeng had given me. I washed them in water, put rice in them, and lit the fire in the stove. I sat there blankly watching the fire rise, and then when I saw the flames rising, I cleaned up the kitchen. There was nothing sitting properly on the shelves, as if an animal had come and gone. I wiped the shelves with a rag and put dishes, small pots, and side dishes back where they were. My body remembers old things, not my head. I packed them up as if I had done it yesterday, stepped back, and felt satisfied.

While the meal was being cooked, I went into the room, cleaned the floor, and removed the cobwebs. As I cleaned the walls, a pile of dry dirt fell down. It took quite a while to wet it and press it into shape so that the room would be in its proper shape. There was nothing I could do about the hole in the door. I searched through my bag and found some paper. I roughly arranged it and waited for the meal to be cooked.

I went into the forest, dug up some late-season greens, washed them, sprinkled some salt on them, and prepared a side dish. I went into the kitchen and turned down the heat because of the savory smell of rice cooking.

‘All studies should be done with enough time to allow them to become food.’

The voice of the teacher who was teaching the daily way to the young Dalcheon rang in my ears. No, it pounded my heart. I scattered the fire in the stove to the left and right, pushed the big ones inside, and waited for them to steam.

‘Eating is a big deal. There is a way in it.’

Dalcheon was living his old mountain life again. He scooped up some rice and put it on the small table he used as a dining table, then went into his room. He left a few grains of rice to put on the door peephole. He closed his eyes as if praying and ate it deliciously. Suddenly, he thought of sesame oil. He regretted not having sprinkled a little on the vegetables mixed with salt, thinking that it would have been perfect for his taste.

“Hehehe.”

It was a poor breakfast, but it was much better than chewing on dried food at the academy. Looking at the vegetables, I thought of the Taoist monk who talked about herbs and elixirs. These are just health supplements, but they don’t know that. There is a bad habit of thinking that only those forged by fire are elixirs. What nature produces is elixir itself. Harmony is important… … . I suddenly regretted not saying it then because it seemed like I was showing off, but I quickly forgot about it. It will take a long time to realize it. The familiar habits of those who forge do not know the true effects of nature’s elixirs.

I cleaned out the rice and side dishes, and filled the holes with the rice paste that I had cut and left behind from paper. I had to pick a day to peel it all off and put on new ones. I would gather the necessary materials every time. I cut the paper here and there to fill the holes, but I couldn’t get to the small window at the back. It was a shame, but there was nothing I could do. Paper in the middle of these mountains… … I should save some paper for studying… … I decided to go to the temple at the bottom of the mountain and get some.

After eating, I opened the closet and took out the bedding that was inside. It felt like it was going to break. If it were Lee Hyun’s poetry, he would have replaced the cotton and the single-layer cover, but that wouldn’t be possible in the mountains. I cut some kudzu vines and hung the bedding on a rope, and hung it on a side where the sunlight could see it well. It was not in good condition because it was saggy from the moisture of many years.

There was much to do, but after eating and half an hour had passed, Dalcheon sat down on the table with the desk he had used as a dining table. He took out a Buddhist scripture from the bookshelf in the upper room, dusted it off, and turned the first page. An old, rotten smell rose.

Phew.

I blew the smell out of my mouth and held my nose.

‘There is a road in the book.’

The teacher’s words came to mind again. I saw a trick I had played while reading a long time ago. I added strokes or added dots to make it look like a different word. I laughed to myself when I saw the young Dalcheon still remaining here and there in the book.

I wonder why I did that. It was too much of a joke to say that my blood was hot. It’s not just in books that there are jokes like that. Traces of Dalcheon remain all over the house like history. There are so many traces everywhere I look that my face turns red even when I’m alone.

Above all, the master did not say anything. He did not scold or scold me. In the eyes of the old monk who was about to ascend the mountain, he seemed to be just cute and beautiful. That kindness touched my heart again. If it were me, I would have grabbed the heads of the children who were playing. I suddenly remembered the time when I made the disobedient children do 30 laps of the tiger’s pace. I did it all, but it was a bit too much when considering the purpose of education. I did that, but the master really did not say anything. He just smiled.

‘Master!’

When I called out in my heart, clear and pure tears welled up. I looked at the sky for a moment. A few white clouds floated helplessly across the blue sky. The wide mountain range with green forests stretching hundreds of thousands of kilometers stood out like the muscles of a warrior, and the late-coming spring haze clouded my distant gaze.

I barely managed to get used to it and started reading the Taoist scriptures from the beginning. I don’t know how many times I read them since I was very young. I changed the radicals and strokes, but I remember all the original characters. I read them while licking my lips and mumbling, just like my teacher did. The time when the sunlight was still soft, my body softened by the sword, and the feeling of being full from the grain. All of this was no different from the time before.

The pages of the book turned smoothly. I had almost memorized everything, so there was no use in going back through them, but the truth is meaningful in revisiting it. I could start studying again from the beginning, which I could not do with my memorization.

As I read the Taoist scriptures for about an hour, the sunlight grew warm. I put a thin piece of wood on the place I was reading and closed the book.

“Phew.”

It was time to move again. I looked up at the sky and guessed the time. My gaze went down to the wall. The sundial I had made long ago was broken.

‘Is it time to do the Si-si-ye-bul (巳時禮佛)?’

* Four-hour prayer service: Prayer service held at Buddhist temples between 9:00 and 11:00 in the morning.

Dalcheon opened his collar, put on his sword, and jumped down the cliff at the bottom of the mountain. He passed rocks, old, crumbling dirt, and pine trees bent in the sunny spot like the wind. As he descended, the leaves grew wider and the shadows became thicker. He got down on a gravel road where the mountain path widened. The tower he had built when he was young was still there. It was similar to the tower he had built next to the shrine. Dalcheon carefully placed another stone. He said that the memory of that moment would last forever.

I was too young to understand the words infinity and extreme, but the memory of that moment remained intact. I prayed again, just like I did when I was young, without even remembering what I had prayed for, and stayed for a while. At a time when the stillness of the windless forest was precisely falling, I took a short sigh and walked down the mountain path to the temple. It was time to pretend to be stupid again.

Back at the stone wall behind the prose, there was a sapling older than the forest, sitting there, dumbfounded. Was it called Seokdo? It was a little lacking, but it was really good when I was young. It seemed as if time had passed by him, and he was smiling just like when he was young.

“Little Taoist, you’re here!”

He speaks as if he saw me yesterday. Time has no meaning to him. He is a person who does not need to distinguish between yesterday and today. He forgets everything and lives in the present, so what does yesterday or today matter?

“How have you been?”

“Hehe, it’s the same. I still study when the red sun rises over the eastern mountain.”

Dalcheon closed his eyes and opened them. I had forgotten, but the sadness I felt when I met someone I hadn’t forgotten came back to me. Is it because I was lacking? I taught him with only a passing interest, but he said it took several years. Can’t I fix that hair?

I thought it would be helpful to him, so I taught him the Sun Breathing Technique. It had a fancy name, but it was a breathing technique that involved looking at the sun.

“So, does that give you strength?”

“No matter how many trees you cut down, it doesn’t take much effort.”

“You didn’t tell anyone?”

“Then I didn’t do it. But what happened today?”

“I just wanted to get some paper.”

“paper?”

“The paper has holes in it, so the wind is blowing through it. Oh my, the wind was so noisy last night.”

“You have to apply it well.”

“Yes.”

“What about Monk Wonju?”

“I’m going to do a four-day prayer service.”

“Why doesn’t Grandpa do it?”

“I just like it here. At this hour.”

He also knows how to be a jerk. When he is not busy, he sits on the stone and raises his head, looking up at the sky through the shadows cast by the broad leaves. This is the space where he always sits when he is not working. His space… … .

This is where workers come and go and small animals come and go through the gap left in the wall behind the temple.

“I don’t think I’ve been able to see you very well lately.”

“Hehehe. I went out to play.”

“You have to study. You won’t be able to use it if you play.”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to see me?”

Bulmokhani stood up. For a moment, it seemed as if a large mountain had lifted its shoulders. He stretched his arms toward the sky and breathed, and a soft and powerful energy flowed out. For a moment, a silver energy seemed to flash in his eyes, but it soon disappeared.

It must have been hard work. It had been several years already, but it seemed like he had spent countless hours studying, talking to me as if it was just yesterday. It was a clean energy, like the transparency of sunlight streaming through the wide leaves.

“That’s great.”

“That’s right. I’m stronger now. I don’t get tired. It’s all thanks to the Taoist monk.”

“You have to live a long life.”

Dalcheon was about to say hello and leave when Bulmokhani stopped him.

“I said I was in the middle of a Buddhist service.”

“Monk Wonju doesn’t do that.”

It was Wonju’s daily routine to miss prayer services under the pretext of having a lot of work to do. He would only attend morning prayer services. He took charge of all the work, fearing that he might be called a swindler, and since he was protected from all the dirty and trivial external work, no one said anything.

“Monk Wonju, now work hard.”

“What? You attended the service?”

“Yes.”

“Hiyu, then I guess I’ll have to wait.”

“I also have paper.”

“Hey, Grandpa, what kind of paper do you have?”

“I took a bunch out a while ago when I was making it for the local market.”

“Oh, that won’t do.”

“What’s wrong with stealing from a thief?”

“Who is the thief?”

“Who are you? The magistrate is a thief. Why did I come to the temple and tell you to make paper?”

“Oh, that won’t do. Those guys are so arrogant, I’m worried they’ll harm the temple.”

“Don’t worry. I’m strong.”

Dalcheon gave him a stern look.

“I told you not to show your power to anyone.”

“Oh, that’s right. You shouldn’t let others know.”

Bulmokhani grabbed Dalcheon’s hand and dragged him to the back of the room. He looked behind him as he dragged him into the room next to his room. No one paid attention to him. He looked around to see who was watching him, even though he was someone he didn’t care about. His appearance was awkward.

“I told you not to do that. I told you to do it proudly.”

“I know I shouldn’t get caught doing this kind of thing. Hehe, ehehe.”

I pulled Dalcheon’s arm, who was nagging me, and went into the cave. I rummaged through the dark cave and took out a bundle of papers.

“Hehehe, hehehe. Is that a lot? Take them all.”

“No, I’m just going to put it on the door, so two sheets are enough.”

“wait.”

He rolled out the long, rolled-up paper like lumber, took out three sheets, rolled up the rest again, and hid them inside.

“Hehe, hehe.”

Roll it up and put it in Dalcheon’s hand.

“If there’s a hole in the door, you have to block it. Otherwise, the wind will come in. It’s colder up on the mountain.”

“Yes, thank you. But I don’t know if I can accept something like this.”

“You can accept it since it’s from Seokdo.”

He opened the door, looked outside, and when he saw that there was no one there, he grabbed Dalcheon and came out, then returned to his original spot.

“Hey, go!”

“why.”

“If someone saw it, they might say something.”

“Whew, I got it. Then please tell Wonju that I’m here.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”