Chapter 5: Three Meals a Day and a Beautiful Bride

Muchideok, who had been about to enter the forest, suddenly stopped and turned around.

After staring intently toward the opposite side of the village for a while, he finally dashed into the woods.

Once inside, Muchideok quickly advanced, searching for traces of the fugitive.

After running for some time, he sensed a few presences nearby.

Glancing around swiftly, he released a shinyeong* upward toward the tall trees.

Sounds came from three different spots.

His gaze settled on the farthest right sound.

After assessing the situation, like a shadow, he moved from tree to tree and swiftly caught up to a fleeing villager.

A young-looking man.

One of the sons of the Cheongangmun Master suddenly flashed in his memory.

Gangcheol was not in his right mind.

His only thought was to get as far away from the village as possible.

No matter how far he ran, his body began to betray his will.

‘How many could have survived?’

Probably not many.

If he kept moving recklessly like this, he’d be caught soon enough.

Moreover, the bleeding from the wound on his back was worsening, gradually numbing his upper body.

Now, even moving his arms was difficult.

‘I can’t move anymore. I have to hide.’

Gangcheol stopped and looked around.

Just then, his eyes caught a small space beneath the thick, gnarled roots of a large tree.

Without hesitation, he slipped into the hiding spot.

Curling his body to lessen the pain from his wounded back felt like his spine was breaking.

But he had to block the entrance.

Gritting his teeth, he moved as much as he could and covered the opening with leaves.

His body’s sensation slowly faded.

And his consciousness began to slip away.

‘It’s done. This is the end. I just hope I die without pain…’

At the very moment Gangcheol lost consciousness completely, Muchideok stood like a ghost in front of the tree roots where Gangcheol hid.

Bright red bloodstains were splattered over the roots and leaves.

The leaves Gangcheol had used to cover himself were useless as his consciousness faded.

“Ahhh!”

From afar, a desperate scream echoed.

It was probably the last cry of someone fleeing in another direction.

Muchideok sat down atop the tree roots where Gangcheol hid and gazed up at the sky.

Though the leaves obscured the view, the fully risen sun cast eerie patterns across the forest.

Muchideok did not know who his parents were.

Over thirty years ago, when the Chang River flooded, many poor people living near Soju died.

Orphans left behind in the aftermath.

As a starving child, Muchideok had to eat whatever he could find.

To survive, he once stole from a passerby’s pouch.

His momentary joy turned to pain when the pouch’s owner caught him and beat him mercilessly.

A light stick wielded by the man felt like an iron club to the boy.

Instead of groaning, the young Muchideok begged for his life.

The man looked at him curiously and stopped hitting him.

“If you live, you won’t starve anymore.”

Those words struck Muchideok’s fading mind like thunder.

The man did not treat or heal him but left him unconscious on the roadside.

***

After three days, Muchideok, lying like a corpse, opened his eyes.

That pouch’s owner was none other than the former Danju.

Looking toward the space beneath the tree roots, Muchideok rose with an indifferent gaze.

“Maybe it’s better to die like this, but if you survive, it’s heaven’s will. Live fiercely.”

Leaving those words behind, Muchideok headed toward the village.

At the entrance of the path leading from the back of Cheongangmun toward the grasslands, Danju Yeopae and all the bandits were preparing to depart, escorting fifty carts.

“All the rats dealt with?”

“Probably…”

Yeopae gave a meaningful smile at Muchideok’s reply.

“Hmph, how dull… Taebok, who was guarding the village, just returned. The government troops are on their way here.”

“What about the remaining villagers? Should we hunt them down too?”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean. Clean up quickly. They were lucky the government troops came—otherwise, we’d wipe them all out. No time! We leave for the grasslands immediately.”

“Yes, understood.”

“Everyone, head to the stronghold. Maintain tight security. Jjaggwi, take ten scouts and depart first.”

Thus, the bandits—numbering around one hundred thirty, having lost about twenty—vanished beyond North Tiger Mountain toward the grasslands.

News of the gold mine discovery reached not only the bandits but also the Dojihwisa of Jilin Province in Changchun.

Gold and silver were resources strictly controlled by the nation.

The Dojihwisa saw this as an opportunity to gain merit.

He quickly mobilized three thousand soldiers and set out for Guihon Village.

However, moving such a large force was no easy task.

***

By the time they arrived, two days had passed since the bandits had left.

Upon entering the village, the Dojihwisa dispatched five hundred elite troops to track the bandits, while ordering two thousand soldiers to protect the gold mine.

The rest scoured the village and interrogated the villagers one by one.

Whether the villagers had helped or resisted the bandits was irrelevant to the Dojihwisa.

The real issue was whether the gold truly existed.

He had mobilized three thousand soldiers.

If no gold was found, someone would have to take the blame.

Of course, it would be the innocent villagers.

But the gold was real.

From then on, he lost interest in the villagers.

The survivors screamed madly, staring at their dead kin who had perished at the back entrance of Cheongangmun.

Bodies lay drenched in blood, missing arms, legs, even heads.

The first to regain composure was Village Headman Jang.

“How long do you intend to stay in shock? Find your families quickly.”

One by one, they began to sober up and collect the bodies.

Gangchan frantically searched for his father and older brother.

The horrifying sight of the mutilated bodies, the fear that they might be dead, robbed Gangchan of his reason and senses.

After searching for a long time, his eyes fell upon a severed head.

***

Even without looking closely, he knew it was his father’s.

With trembling hands, he turned the head so the face could be seen.

For some reason, his father’s face seemed to be looking back and smiling.

“Fa…ther…”

No answer.

“Father! Father!!”

Shouting aloud, Gangchan’s eyes rolled back and he fainted.

Shimyangdaek, who was with Gangchan, caught him as he collapsed.

“What will we do, Master? What will we do with our poor young master?”

Since that day, Gangchan repeatedly lost and regained consciousness.

Meanwhile, the villagers tried their best to gather the remains, but so many had been dismembered that identification was impossible.

In the end, they gathered all the bodies in one place, built a large burial mound, and laid them to rest.

A Guihyangtap was erected to comfort all their souls.

Only Ganghwan’s body, the only one identifiable, was interred beside his wife’s grave.

The death of Cheongangmun was like the death of the entire village.

Cheongangmun had operated as an autonomous sect, taking in at least one son from each family.

There were almost no villagers left who were not in mourning.

After the joint funeral, the entire village sank into a heavy silence.

***

Soon after, a few who could not escape the grief of losing family and children took their own lives.

Eventually, some villagers, unable to bear life there any longer, began moving to other regions.

The entire village was dying.

Since that day, Gangchan had fallen silent.

He would sit blankly by his parents’ grave all day, only returning after sunset.

His nanny, now old and barely able to care for herself after sixty years, set a meal before him.

“Master, you must eat dinner. You’ll harm yourself otherwise.”

“Master, you haven’t eaten for days, always so sad, what will you do, sob sob sob.”

Gangchan looked at his crying nanny with vacant eyes, whispering inside.

‘Nanny… don’t cry.’

After several days of refusing food, Gangchan’s small frame grew even smaller.

He did not put food to his lips, only sometimes drinking water, sitting dazed by his parents’ grave.

That day, as his nanny pleaded with him to take at least a bite of dinner, a voice called from outside.

“Is Shimyangdaek here? Come out for a moment.”

The nanny quietly rose and went outside.

“Oh, Village Headman, what brings you here at this hour?”

“I have urgent news. You know we’ve been searching with the village youths and nearby areas for several days for Master Gangcheol, who fled northeast beyond the ashes. We found nine bodies but could not locate Gangcheol’s. There’s nowhere else to search, so we plan to stop today. Don’t be upset.”

Gangchan, sitting blankly by the table, heard the Village Headman’s words.

And then, the sound of fate followed.

‘I must find my brother!’

In truth, the Village Headman had done his best.

After the disaster, the villagers had too many tasks.

Most had lost beloved husbands and sons but endured for the sake of those left alive.

The search had continued only because the Village Headman insisted to the villagers, claiming someone owed their survival.

‘I see. This is what I must do to survive. Doing nothing while I’m so sad would betray the father and brother who sacrificed themselves for me.’

As if resolved, Gangchan began to eat again—food he had refused for so long.

Lightly dressed, carrying a few rice balls and a water pouch, Gangchan entered the forest northeast of the village where his brother had fled.

A command from heaven to a slowly dying Gangchan.

‘I must find my brother. If he is dead, I must find his body and give him a proper burial.’

From that day, every morning with the sunrise, Gangchan set out, returning around sunset, repeating the cycle.

The nanny worried about Gangchan’s single-minded focus but was relieved that he had something to hold onto.

Fifteen days passed without any results.

Gangchan was not discouraged.

The real problem arose elsewhere.

The nanny, weakened by age and hardship, fell ill.

Despite Gangchan’s desperate prayers, she passed away three days after falling ill.

At last, Gangchan was truly alone in the world.

“Master Chan, make sure to eat three meals a day, grow up strong, and marry a beautiful bride.”

Those were the nanny’s last words.