As soon as Grandpa introduced the monk, the man sprang up with reverence and performed a deep, formal bow.
"Oh, please, let me pay my respects! It's an honor to finally bow before you, Great Monk! I was actually planning to go to your temple, but they told me I'd have to wait a year just to get a reading. That's why I ended up at the temple next door. My son's exam was just too urgent, you see."
Then, he immediately asked the monk a question.
"If I offer some prayers and buy a talisman, my son will do well, right?"
At the man's words, the monk suddenly fell silent and began thumbing his prayer beads. He looked like he was chanting a sutra under his breath, appearing for all the world like a truly enlightened master. I couldn't find a trace of the playful man who had been joking with me and Grandpa just moments ago.
After a moment, the monk spoke.
"There's a large tree in front of your house, isn't there?"
"Yes, there is."
"And you pruned its branches last year, didn't you?"
"Yes, that's right! It grew so big it was blocking all the windows... so I just hacked them all off."
The monk then spoke solemnly.
"The tree had moved its branches toward your son's window because it was curious about how he was doing. But you cut them off. The tree is very hurt by this."
'What a load of nonsense!'
I thought to myself, but the family was nodding their heads in earnest.
'They... they actually believe that? Such ridiculous talk?'
The monk continued.
"He will fail this year's exam. It's best to prepare for next year instead."
As the monk said this, disappointment washed over the faces of the family.
"And it would be better to let the tree in your yard see your son. For now, tell your son to come home and rest this year. That will be more beneficial for him."
"Then what about the exam?"
"After he absorbs some of the tree's energy, if he starts preparing again early next year, he is guaranteed to pass."
At these words, the family's faces brightened instantly. Then, the man asked, still feeling a bit uneasy.
"What about the destiny that says he'll go to prison? How do we stop that?"
The monk replied as if it were nothing.
"Just don't prune the tree until your son passes. Once he passes, the tree will block all that bad luck for him."
Grandpa, who had been listening quietly, chimed in.
"Ah! So that's why his Saju showed a spouse with a 'Wood' element! Wow, you're lucky. Even the tree loves you."
Then, the wife, who had been silent until then, spoke up.
"A monk at another temple said our son's 'Three Disasters' period starts this year. He said if we don't offer prayers immediately, he'll definitely go to jail. What should we do about the prayers?"
The monk's face twisted slightly for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He asked the woman.
"Where is that temple located?"
"It's Ssangmu-sa, up the valley near Mount Yeongmu. Why do you ask?"
As soon as he heard 'Ssangmu-sa,' Ja-un sighed in a voice so low the customers couldn't hear.
"Those cultists at Ssangmu-sa... they've caused trouble again."
He then addressed the customers.
"Just let your son rest, and then have him study at our temple. If you do that, he will never go to jail."
The customers still looked a bit uncertain. Back in those days, it wasn't uncommon for people to be dragged off to jail by the police without even knowing why. Naturally, being told their son was fated for prison terrified them. But Ja-un gave them a remedy to avoid that fate.
"Ma'am, just keep running your restaurant and feed the hungry. That will have more merit than any formal prayer service."
The suspicious look that the woman had worn since entering the room suddenly vanished.
"I didn't even mention that I run a restaurant! How did you know?"
The monk didn't answer and simply continued to turn his prayer beads. Seeing this, the woman exclaimed.
"You really are the Great Monk Ja-un of Yeongmu-sa!"
"Hahaha! Indeed, I am. If you still doubt me, come find me at Yeongmu-sa Temple tomorrow. I will write you a Sangmae-beon-seong-bu (A Talisman for Business Prosperity)."
"A Sangmae-beon-seong-bu? You mean the one that makes a business crazily successful just by hanging it up?" the woman asked in disbelief. "I heard you rarely write those! People say you have to wait a year for one!"
Ja-un smiled and replied.
"I'm the one who writes them. I'll write one for you. I'll promise you that here. "
The monk glanced meaningfully at Grandpa with an expression that clearly said, 'See? This is how great I am.' He then continued.
"People say their business doubles or triples after hanging my talisman. I wouldn't know, of course, since I don't interfere in worldly affairs..."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" the woman cried.
The woman spent the rest of the time praising Ja-un, even while Grandpa was working hard on their reading. The atmosphere in the room was so thick with her adoration that it was hard to tell if she had come for a Saju reading or to join Ja-un's fan club.
Just before leaving, the woman said.
"Monk, I will surely repay this debt. I'll replace all the roof tiles at your temple! I'll fill the whole place with lotus lanterns!"
She didn't say a single word about doing anything for our Saju studio.
After they left, Grandpa asked the monk.
"Hey, how did you know that lady ran a restaurant?"
"You would know too if you took refuge in the Buddha. Namu-Amita-Bul."
But it was all a lie.
A few days later, while having a drink with Grandpa, the monk confessed the truth.
"That bulgogi place is famous, man! You'd have to be a spy not to know it. I've been there myself..."
* * *
Today, a woman dressed in a way that left little to the imagination visited Grandpa's studio. Looking at her micro-mini skirt and low-cut top, Grandma looked very displeased, as if she found such a provocative outfit completely inappropriate for a sacred place like a Saju studio. However, we hadn't had a single customer all day.
"The things I predict always come true. So I came to see if I should become a shaman. If I become one, can I make some real money?"
As soon as she entered the consultation room, she asked bluntly about becoming a shaman. Every time she spoke, a strong smell of alcohol wafted from her.
'Ugh, smelling like booze in the middle of the day...'
By now, even I could distinguish customers who worked in the high-end adult entertainment industry. At some point, rumors about Grandpa's studio must have spread through the nightlife districts, because groups of women with similar flashy outfits and a distinct, lingering scent of expensive perfume and alcohol started coming up.
Listening quietly while Grandpa did the readings, I learned that they were part of what people called the 'water business.' This was the gritty world of hostess bars and adult clubs where beauty was used to sell drinks and sometimes much more. Still, no one had ever come here smelling of alcohol so early in the day.
Normally, Grandpa refused to see customers who smelled of drink. His face looked like he had just swallowed something bitter.
'The attitude of the seeker is important. I don't feel like saying much to those who have no intention of listening.'
Under normal circumstances, he would have kicked her out. But earnings hadn't been great this month, which was why Grandma was pacing back and forth in the yard. Exercising incredible self-control, Grandpa spoke.
"There's a shaman's house a little further down. Go ask there. This is a Saju studio."
She shot back immediately.
"I already went there, and she told me I need to undergo an initiation rite!"
"Then why didn't you just do it? Why did you come all the way to a Saju studio?"
She looked a bit dissatisfied.
"She said it seemed right for me to receive the divine spirit. But when I asked if I'd make a lot of money..."
"Did she say you wouldn't? What did she say?"
Grandpa was getting sucked into the story of a customer he should have ignored. Feeling a bit dizzy, she gulped down the glass of water meant for Grandpa without asking.
"She said I could become a shaman, but she wasn't sure if I'd make much money. She told me to come up here and ask."
"This is for Saju analysis, not spiritual fortune-telling. We don't have any shamans here," Grandpa said.
As he spoke, Grandpa glanced at Grandma in the yard. She was staying put, glaring at him.
The customer said.
"The shaman told me I'd find the answer if I came up here. Said her spirit told her so. Anyway, I came up and found this place, and I realized this is the famous Dosa's studio."
"Ah... I see..."
I didn't say anything, but I was annoyed too. Grandpa really seemed to be struggling. Just then, Yeon-hwa appeared with the herbal medicine Grandpa was supposed to take. After setting it down, she stared at the customer.
"Master... looking at that person's face, it seems she's possessed by a lowly spirit. Why haven't you sent her away yet?"
Even though I was learning physiognomy from Grandpa, I had never seen a 'spirit-possessed face' in the books. I didn't remember hearing about it in any of the other methods he'd taught me, either. But hearing Yeon-hwa's words, Grandpa let out an incredulous laugh.
"Ho! So this is the 'lowly spirit' I've only heard about? Well... I can't see things like that. But talking to her, she does seem to have an uncanny knack for getting things right."
I noticed Yeon-hwa's brow furrow slightly. She soon spoke.
"It's usually hard to tell the difference between a false spirit and a true divine light. That's why one needs a powerful, authentic shaman for a proper initiation rite."
Grandpa admitted he knew nothing about such things.
"Is that so? I'm learning a lot from you. I really don't know a thing about that."
Ignoring the customer and talking only to each other, the woman, who was already quite drunk, turned red with anger.
"Who's a false spirit and who's divine? Say it so I can understand!"
As she snapped at them, Yeon-hwa's expression turned more terrifying than I'd ever seen.
[Glare!]
The murderous aura radiating from her face made me feel like I was going to wet my pants just standing there. I thought she was going to strike the woman. She certainly looked ready to. Fortunately, she didn't use her hands.
"For a girl without a shred of divine lineage to end up in this state... you must have suffered through some harsh storms in this world."
In our tradition, the path of a shaman is usually inherited through bloodlines or a fated spiritual calling. Seeing her like this, it was clear she had no such protection, making her an easy target for any wandering spirit.
At Yeon-hwa's words, the customer's expression changed instantly. Yeon-hwa spoke in a lower voice than before.
"If I had my brass bells, I'd ask the spirits or the grandmothers, but I'm a shaman without bells. Fine, let's hear your story."
As she said this, Yeon-hwa snatched the woman's wrist.
"Gah! What are you doing, you crazy b*tch?!"
Perhaps it was because she had grabbed her so forcefully, but the customer screamed in irritation.
Yeon-hwa, completely unshaken, sat down while still holding the wrist. Although the customer looked five or six years older than Yeon-hwa, she became strangely submissive the moment her wrist was caught. Yeon-hwa closed her eyes. Her body shivered for a moment.
A moment later, the voice of an old woman that I had never heard before began to pour out of Yeon-hwa's mouth.
"You wench!!! Do you have any idea what kind of mess you're getting yourself into?!"