It was the peak of summer. Perhaps I had a touch of heatstroke, but my entire body felt drained of strength. Seeing me like that, Grandpa spoke up.
"Goodness, look at this child. People will say he's looking so frail because he's living with his grandparents instead of his parents."
Grandma chimed in with a sigh.
"He's such a picky eater, just like someone I know. I try to make him healthy and energy-boosting traditional soups, but he won't touch them. All he ever wants to eat is beef or that thing I've never even heard of called Donkatsu. How am I supposed to make something I've never even tasted?"
It was true. I was a picky eater. Grandpa turned to me and asked.
"Hyun-jin, what do you want to eat, son?"
Suddenly, I craved a meat soup. A bright red, spicy meat soup. So I answered.
"Meat soup. The red kind."
Out of all the dishes Grandma made, that was my favorite. Grandma looked at Grandpa and said.
"Fine, let's feed him some meat soup. You heard him, right?"
Grandpa looked at her, incredulous.
"If you want to feed him meat, just do it. Why are you asking me?"
"I don't have the money for beef. Go down to the market and earn some."
"What?! Are we out of money? We don't even have enough to feed our grandson some meat?!"
Grandpa shouted at the top of his lungs. That meant the amount of earnings he had handed over to Grandma this month was quite substantial. Grandma replied in a low, cautious voice.
"I made a mistake calculating the deposits for my savings account and forgot to set aside enough for this month's living expenses. If it were just the two of us, we could scrape by, but..."
Grandpa flared up in anger.
"Gah! You old woman, have you lost your mind over money? Don't you know customers don't come around much in this heat? Have you only been in this business for a day or two?"
Whether Grandpa was fuming or not, I knew Grandma's beef soup was heavenly. My mind was already filled with visions of that spicy, red broth. My mouth watered, and I swallowed hard.
[Gulp!]
Noticing me, Grandpa snapped irritably.
"Fine! Forget it. You, come with me. Let's head to the market together for once."
And so, I followed Grandpa toward the town market. Grandma called out after us.
"Don't forget the Manse Calendar and the mat if you're going to set up shop!"
Grandpa grumbled as he packed the Manse Calendar and the mat.
* * *
It happened to be the day of the five-day market. Remembering something Grandpa had told me before, I asked.
"Grandpa, I thought you said you weren't going to work at the market anymore."
"Who said I'm working? I'll just put the meat on a tab at the butcher's. The young fortune-tellers have to make a living, too. If I show my face at the market, do you know what'll happen?"
If word got out that the best diviner in the region had arrived? It was obvious.
"The young ones would all go hungry today. I told you that before, remember?"
Grandpa never set up a stall at the market, and his reason was this.
"A person should only earn as much as the size of their own vessel, and they must know how to share what remains. That sharing isn't just about wealth; it's about work, too. That's what you're trying to say, right?"
"Exactly. You're still a sharp one. So, let's just put it on credit and get that beef for the soup you want."
But I knew better. Grandpa wouldn't use credit. The Manse Calendar he was carrying looked brand new, with no signs of use. That meant the book was his secret hiding place for emergency cash.
Grandpa probably didn't realize it, but Grandma likely knew about his secret stash and sent him out to buy meat for that very reason.
* * *
This reminded me of a time when Grandpa was away for a few days. As soon as he left, Grandma started a deep clean of the consultation room.
"Your grandpa is always sitting here, so I can't clean it properly unless he's gone. I have to do it quickly while he's away."
Grandma moved the desk out to the porch and began a thorough cleaning. I was forced to help. I took a feather duster and started dusting the bookshelf where Grandpa kept his most prized books.
That's when I noticed something off. There was a twenty-volume set of books on Myeongli, but the volumes were out of order. I had a bit of an obsessive-compulsive streak when it came to books. I couldn't stand seeing them unorganized. I reached out to pull a book and fix the order.
"Hyun-jin! Stop! That's your grandpa's trap!" Grandma shouted.
I didn't understand. Grandma grabbed my wrist and whispered.
"He definitely hid something important in those books. This is a trap."
"Something important?"
"Money, of course. His secret stash."
"But what do you mean by a 'trap'?"
Grandma spoke in a serious tone. "Do you know about squirrels?"
Even though I had lived in Seoul, I knew what a squirrel was. "Yes, I know."
"Do you know how they hide their food in the knots of trees?"
"Yes. They store food to survive the cold winter."
"Right. But do you know what a squirrel does if it sees traces of someone having visited its pantry?"
"What?"
"It moves the pantry immediately. It hides the food in an even deeper, harder-to-find place." Grandma looked at me and asked, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Couldn't Grandpa have just been lazy and put them back wrong?"
Grandma insisted that wasn't it and told me to look at the other books. I checked the other sets of 20 volumes, 40 volumes, and even a 100-volume collection. Every single one was perfectly arranged from number 1 to the end.
I felt a slight chill.
"Your grandpa is obsessive. When it comes to organizing data or books, his obsession is almost like a sickness."
"Then why did he leave only those out of order?"
"To check if anyone is messing with his bookshelf. If you put those back in the right order, he'll know someone was looking, and he'll change the location of his money immediately."
I still didn't quite get it. "So you're saying the secret stash is inside volumes 16 and 20, the ones he swapped?"
"I thought so at first, too." Grandma pulled out volume 7. Every time she flipped a page, a ten-thousand-won bill appeared.
"So the money was in a different volume all along."
"Exactly. Those swapped numbers were just a trap to see if I was paying attention to the shelf. So, act like you didn't see anything."
Again, I was confused. "Since you found the stash, why don't you just take it?"
Grandma gave a mischievous, almost scary laugh. "Do you know what happens to a squirrel if its pantry is raided in late autumn?"
"No, I don't."
"It stops gathering anything. It just eats whatever is left and dies before winter ends."
"What does that have to do with Grandpa?"
"If I just leave him alone, he'll keep gathering it on his own. And I know exactly where and how much he's hidden. There's no need to disturb someone who's working so hard to save. I'll just take it when I actually need it. There's no point in raiding the stash while he's still in the middle of filling it up."
* * *
Grandpa didn't set up a stall at the market. He walked straight to the butcher shop, and the owner recognized him instantly.
"Oh! If it isn't the famous Dosa-nim! What brings you all the way here? I was actually planning on visiting you soon."
The butcher approached him with great familiarity, but Grandpa looked a bit flustered. "Have you had a reading from me before? I'm afraid I don't recognize you..."
Grandpa had an incredible memory. He never forgot the Saju or the facial features of the people he'd read. I later learned that he always reviewed his readings and studied them afterward. If Grandpa said he didn't know you, he really didn't.
"I've seen you passing by often," the butcher said. "And I've seen you on the news and TV, too! The famous diviner that people travel all the way from Seoul to see in this mountain village. So, are you here for some meat?"
I could see Grandpa's pride swelling at the butcher's endless praise.
"Give me some meat for soup. High-quality Hanwoo beef. This grandson of mine is visiting from Seoul, and I have to show him how good the meat in this town is, don't I?"
The butcher hesitated for a moment and then said, "I won't take your money. I won't just give you brisket for soup either. I'll give you the best tenderloin and sirloin for grilling too. In exchange, please just take a look at my Saju."
* * *
Grandpa sat at a table and began to calculate the man's Saju. When he opened the Manse Calendar, I saw several ten-thousand-won bills tucked between the pages, just as I expected.
'I knew it.'
Once the chart was ready, Grandpa asked the butcher, "You have a Gwan (Official) destiny, and you're holding a blade. Were you a soldier?"
"No, I wasn't."
Grandpa tried again. "You have the Yang-in-sal (Sheep Blade Star) and a Gwan (Official) destiny, and you're holding a blade. Overall, you don't look like someone meant to be carving animal meat. You look like someone meant to be wielding a blade against people. Usually, that means a soldier or..."
"What is Yang-in-sal?"
"It's a very strong destiny. In the old days, we called it a general's destiny."
It wasn't just for generals. A robber with a knife also has the Yang-in-sal. It literally means "butchering a sheep with a blade," and people with this destiny have very powerful, intense personalities.
"Wow, how did you know? I haven't told a soul in this town because it's a secret..."
As he spoke, he began rolling up his sleeves. I had thought it was strange that he wore long sleeves in the middle of summer, but now I saw why. As he pushed his sleeves up to his shoulders, a massive, vivid carp tattoo appeared on his arm, looking almost alive. The tail disappeared past his shoulder and the ink didn't stop there, as it likely covered his entire back.
He spoke shyly. "When I was a kid, I was in a 'gang' for a bit. I did some work as a 'blade-man.' I did some time in prison, but then I met my wife and we had a child. I cut ties with that life and moved to the countryside to run this butcher shop."
Of course, I don't think Grandpa was unaware of this. He always told me that the Saju of police officers, soldiers, and gangsters are often similar. Gwan (Official) destiny represents public service or "eating the state's rice," but he often joked that prison food is also "state-provided rice."
Grandpa cut straight to the chase.
"So, what is it that you're curious about?"