The woman snapped back at Yeon-hwa's words.
"Anyone could tell I work at a hostess bar just by looking at me. I do it to put food on the table, you old hag!"
Despite being much younger than the woman, Yeon-hwa was being called an "old hag." Yeon-hwa's voice grew even louder and more commanding.
"I'm not scolding a hostess for doing her job! What I'm asking is why you go up the mountain to pray after work instead of going straight home!"
As Yeon-hwa shouted with an intensity even more terrifying than before, the woman suddenly became submissive. Her spirit crushed, she replied weakly.
"My body just aches for no reason... I thought it might be 'shaman sickness,' so I did it."
Yeon-hwa's expression twisted into something even more fearsome. Her face began to resemble the fierce Dokkaebi patterns carved into temple roof tiles.
"Silence!!! I wasn't asking you! I was asking the lowly spirit inside of you! You wretched spirit, why do you make this child answer when you know the truth? Are you afraid of me?"
The customer, still reeking of alcohol, began to tremble violently.
'What is happening? This is terrifying. Is she going to wet herself?'
As a young boy, I couldn't help but be shocked. What was even more frightening was the voice that began to emerge from her mouth. It wasn't the woman's voice from a moment ago, but a man's voice I had never heard before.
"I died after being wronged. Please, listen to my story."
Yeon-hwa replied in her own voice.
"Why should I listen to you? I am no longer a shaman. I have neither the strength to listen nor the power to release your grudge even if I did."
Saying this, Yeon-hwa released the woman's wrist.
"But I will not tolerate you causing trouble here any longer. Leave this room at once."
Yeon-hwa opened the door to the consultation room and spoke firmly.
"And you, male guest. If you ever set foot in this studio again, I will cast you into the pits of hellfire. Consider yourself warned and never show your face in this place again."
The person who had entered the room was a woman, yet Yeon-hwa addressed the presence as a "male guest." She seemed genuinely furious. Still unable to calm her anger, she spoke once more.
"When you go back down, make sure to tell that shaman. If she ever sends her spirit minions up to this studio again, I will blow away both that wretch and the lowly spirit she serves. Tell her to keep that in mind!"
As soon as Yeon-hwa finished speaking, the customer collapsed like a deflated balloon.
'Wait! Is she dead?'
A moment later, contrary to my worries, the customer began to snore so loudly it shook the entire studio.
[Zzzzz... ROAR... Snore!]
* * *
There were no more customers in the waiting room, and no more appointments for the day. Grandpa and Yeon-hwa covered the woman with a blanket and stepped out of the room. Much later, the woman woke up and opened the door. She was the polar opposite of her previous brazen self, appearing very shy.
"Where... where am I?"
She still seemed dazed. Grandpa explained everything that had happened.
"Lately, whenever I drink, I've been giving people spiritual readings. I'm so sorry. I don't think I was in my right mind until just now," she said.
Yeon-hwa asked her.
"Why did you think you weren't in your right mind?"
"To be honest, I haven't been able to remember any of the readings I gave. But people kept coming back, saying I was incredibly accurate and begging for more."
Yeon-hwa gave a small laugh.
"And what happened after you gave those readings? Didn't your relationships with people get worse?"
The woman nodded vigorously. She said the readings were definitely accurate and everything she predicted came true, but people started distancing themselves from her.
"Yesterday, someone even called me a 'devilish shaman wretch' while I was working. I felt so bad that I downed a bottle of soju by myself, and the next thing I know, I'm here."
Yeon-hwa spoke.
"Those destined to serve the gods will end up doing so no matter how much they avoid it. However, you aren't possessed by a god. Your body has simply grown weak, allowing a false spirit to take hold. Instead of an initiation rite, you need an exorcism to clear out the false spirit before you even think about serving a true deity."
"So... do I really have to become a shaman in the end?"
Yeon-hwa waved off the question.
"I'm saying if you want to do shaman work, that's how you'd have to do it."
"If I have to be a shaman, will I make a lot of money?"
Yeon-hwa laughed heartily again.
"The work of a true shaman is serving the gods, praying, and performing rites. Making money through readings is what a different kind of shaman does."
Hearing this, Grandpa chimed in.
"Still, Yeon-hwa, take a look at her. It's a pity. Can't you help her out a little?"
Yeon-hwa looked at the woman and spoke.
"To know for sure if someone is meant for this path, I'd usually have them pick a flag from the Five Directional Flags. But I am a shaman who has lost her ritual tools. I have no way of checking for you."
The woman asked.
"Then what should I do if I don't want to be a shaman?"
"No matter how much your body aches, do not go to the mountains to pray. And since alcohol acts as your medium, you must quit drinking entirely. Instead, become a devout follower of a church or a temple."
The woman listened quietly.
"You seem to work at night, but if you truly don't want to be a shaman, quit that job and find something else. If you stay awake or wander around after the Hour of the Rat (11 PM – 1 AM), you'll end up attracting dark, ominous energy even if you didn't have any to begin with."
"I understand. Thank you," the woman said as she prepared to leave.
Just then, Yeon-hwa spoke.
"May I see your palm?"
The woman smiled and held out her hand. Yeon-hwa took it, but instead of looking at the lines, she simply closed her eyes. Suddenly, her tone of voice changed again.
"Sister... you can live the life you want now. I'm so sorry I left first without even getting that surgery you worked so hard to pay for."
"Hye... Hye-young? Is that you, Hye-young?"
This was something I had never seen since coming to the studio. Yeon-hwa seemed like a completely different person, yet she felt incredibly familiar to the customer.
"I know you're heartbroken, sister. But do you think praying to the Mountain Spirit will bring me back to life? Don't do this to yourself anymore."
At Yeon-hwa's words, the woman burst into tears and hugged her. The usually prickly Yeon-hwa didn't push her away. Instead, she patted the woman's back.
"It's not your fault at all. I left this world happy because of you, so now I want to see you be happy too."
As the woman wept uncontrollably, I turned to Grandpa.
"Grandpa, teach me how to read palms like that too!"
Grandpa looked at me as if I were a total fool and clicked his tongue.
"You idiot. Do you really think that's just palmistry? What am I going to do with those useless eyes of yours? It's not like I can take them out and swap them for eyes that actually see."
* * *
One day, I found a book on Grandpa's shelf. It was filled with old stories about famous diviners and scholars of the occult.
"Ryeo-jeuk-po-bok (麗卽匍伏)? What does this mean?"
Translated literally, it means: "If it is beautiful, crawl."
* * *
Once upon a time, there was a famous fortune-teller in Beijing. He charged a staggering one hundred taels for a single sentence of prophecy, yet his accuracy was one hundred percent. Despite the high price, the wealthy would pay five hundred taels just to hear five sentences.
A traveling merchant who had come to Beijing heard this rumor.
'Unbelievable. Do they have so much money they don't know what to do with it?'
But as a merchant, he knew that the wealthy never spent large sums without a good reason. He had learned that understanding those reasons was the key to becoming wealthy himself.
'I have to go there once. I need to know why they pay such an enormous price.'
Fortunately, the ceramics he brought sold like wildfire. He finished his business much earlier than expected and earned far more than he had anticipated.
'I'll go see that fortune-teller.'
With time to spare and a heavy purse, he visited the man the rich frequented. He wasn't so much curious about his future as he was about the secret behind the merchant's fee.
After a long wait, the merchant finally met the fortune-teller. But the man just sat there in silence.
"I heard you give miraculous readings. Why aren't you saying anything?"
The young assistant standing nearby spoke.
"Payment first."
The merchant placed a hundred taels on the desk.
[Thump!]
Only then did a single sentence fall from the fortune-teller's lips.
"Ryeo-jeuk-po-bok (麗卽匍伏)."
It meant: "If it is beautiful, crawl." The merchant was baffled by the sudden command to crawl.
"What does that mean?"
The fortune-teller fell silent again. The assistant spoke up.
"More money."
This time, even the assistant stayed silent. The merchant was curious, but he felt it was a waste to spend another hundred taels just for one more sentence. He left the studio grumbling.
"He should have at least explained what it meant. Dammit. I just threw my money away."
The merchant had been away from home for a long time.
'Well, at least I get to see my wife soon.'
* * *
When the merchant opened his front gate, his wife, dressed more beautifully than usual, ran out to greet him in her stocking feet. The merchant was puzzled.
'Did she know I was coming? How?'
His wife exclaimed, "Oh, honey! You're home! You've arrived three days earlier than you said!"
She knew exactly how many days early he was. Suddenly, the fortune-teller's words flashed through his mind.
'Ryeo-jeuk-po-bok! If it is beautiful, crawl!!!'
The merchant immediately began to crawl toward the room his wife had just run out of.
'Wait! What is that?!'
As he crawled across the yard, he saw a young, naked man hiding in the shadows under the wooden veranda (maru). He pretended not to see him and spoke to his wife.
"I ran all the way here and I'm parched. Could you bring me some water?"
"Of course, just a moment."
While she went to the kitchen, the merchant ran to the shed and grabbed a scythe.
[Stab! Stab!]
He stabbed the man hiding under the floorboards to death. Seeing her husband kill the hidden man, the wife screamed in terror.
[Stab! Stab!]
The merchant killed his wife as well.
* * *
Eventually, the merchant was taken to the magistrate's office for interrogation.
"How did you know a young man was hiding under the veranda?" the magistrate asked.
The merchant told the truth.
"A famous fortune-teller in Beijing told me. I paid a hundred taels for a single sentence, and that sentence was Ryeo-jeuk-po-bok."
"If it is beautiful, crawl?"
"Yes. I thought it was nonsense, but when I got home..."
"Your wife was dressed up beautifully, so you crawled?"
"That is correct."
Intrigued by the story, the magistrate had the fortune-teller brought before him and asked.
"Tell me, what would you have told him if he had paid another hundred taels?"
"I would have told him In-ja-yu-bok (忍者有福): 'Blessings come to those who endure.'"