Chapter 123
* * *
“Is it delicious?”
“Yes! It’s the best, Chum-ji!”
Yeo Moon-beom started the car after lightly stroking the head of Eun-hwi, who was sitting in the passenger seat taking a bite from the edge of a triangle kimbap.
Of all things, he wanted triangle kimbap as soon as he woke up.
Moon-beom had planned to take him to the restaurant he had previously visited with Professor Bang Ki-bong, not wanting to feed him tasteless hospital food. He had hoped Eun-hwi would eat his fill of the nutritious rice specially made by the chef and foods good for restoring energy.
But Eun-hwi insisted on triangle kimbap over everything else. Though he didn’t say it, it was probably because he wanted to meet the Jangseung dokkaebi as soon as possible.
After an emotional reunion with Professor Bang Ki-bong, who had rushed over upon hearing that Eun-hwi had awakened, they immediately processed his discharge.
Whether it was due to the hericium he had been fed earlier, or because of his inherent dokkaebi recovery abilities despite becoming human, Eun-hwi was remarkably healthy—so much that the attending physician was astonished.
“Drink some water too when you’re eating kimbap, or you’ll choke.”
“Mmm. Okay, Moon-beom.”
He handed over a bottle of water before departing. Eun-hwi chewed with his small cheeks puffed up round like a squirrel, looking so adorable that Moon-beom wanted to take him straight home and devour him from head to toe.
He poked Eun-hwi’s plump cheek with his finger. Eun-hwi, tilting his head to take a bite from the side of the kimbap, rolled his eyes toward Moon-beom to meet his gaze.
“Whaaat?”
“You’re just eating so deliciously.”
“If you wanted some, you should have said so. Here, aah—”
As Eun-hwi smiled brightly and extended the triangle kimbap, Moon-beom swallowed the rice grains and mayonnaise on Eun-hwi’s lips instead of the tuna kimbap. Eun-hwi’s amber-brown eyes widened in surprise.
“I wanted this more than that.”
He stuck out his tongue to taste what remained of Eun-hwi on his upper lip. The soft, yielding texture was distinctly felt.
“…You’re also obsessed with sex.”
Eun-hwi’s cheeks turned slightly red at the sudden contact, and he muttered as if to himself. He seemed to feel it was unfair that he was always the only one being teased.
“Didn’t you know? I’m the guy whose brain is pickled in sex, getting turned on just by looking at my husband’s face.”
“Brain pickled…?”
Eun-hwi tilted his head, not understanding the meaning. Moon-beom let out a sly laugh and added an explanation.
“People naturally flock together—birds of a feather, like husband, like wife. If my husband gets hard at every opportunity, I, as his wife, should do the same. Don’t you think?”
“Hmm… Is that so?”
“Yes. That’s how it is.”
Laughing out loud again, he stroked Eun-hwi’s head where the horn had disappeared. It felt strange to him too that there was nothing to catch on his palm, but it was something he would get used to over time, so he wanted to enjoy this current emptiness.
“Let’s go now. He must be waiting.”
“Yes!”
He stepped on the accelerator with pleasure. The black sedan glided along the road. The sky, which had been overcast all day, cleared up without a single cloud, turning completely blue.
* * *
The mountain where they had their final bet with the Jangseung dokkaebi was not far from Seoul.
The steep mountain, marked with private property signs and restricted entry fences installed in various places, had a quite different atmosphere from Wolhwa Mountain with its rugged and sharp features.
Despite not having proper hiking equipment due to their haste, Eun-hwi climbed the mountain with light steps. Each footprint on the ground was filled with anticipation.
“Hey, Moon-beom.”
“What is it, Eun-hwi?”
“My mother asked me to tell you she’s grateful.”
“Your mother?”
There was no reason for her to specifically thank him—if anything, she might curse him for devouring her precious son. Moreover, as Moon-beom recalled, Eun-hwi’s human mother had passed away right after he was born, which raised questions.
Had he dreamed while unconscious?
As Moon-beom looked at him with curious eyes, unexpected words came from Eun-hwi’s mouth.
“Yes. I met her at the banks of Samdocheon. She seemed to know that I became human thanks to you.”
It appeared that the grim reaper he had seen that day had indeed tried to take Eun-hwi to the afterlife.
As Moon-beom was inwardly vowing to beat that grim reaper to a pulp if he ever met him after his own death, Eun-hwi grabbed his arm and said:
“Your mother was next to my mother? She waved goodbye to me.”
“…My mother?”
“Yes. You once told me they would be together in heaven. It was true!”
‘My mother also went to heaven. She was an exceptional singer but couldn’t sing enough while alive. She must be singing enthusiastically in heaven, making up for what she missed, and your mother must be dancing joyfully beside her.’
He had never believed in heaven, only in the existence of ghosts (gui), having lived in a reality worse than hell.
To think that a story he had considered mere sweet talk to comfort someone had actually come true there.
His heart swelled. His throat tightened, making it difficult to swallow. Yeo Moon-beom gently clutched his chest and exhaled.
“…It feels like a thorn has been removed from my heart.”
There hadn’t been a moment when he wasn’t plagued by guilt. It had always been painful to think of his mother, fearing she might resent him for doing nothing while paralyzed with fear.
He stood still, looking up at the sky where his mother might be. Eun-hwi, with a rather mature expression, stroked Moon-beom’s back and quietly spoke.
“My mother said she would definitely come back, even if it takes time. If we wait, your mother will return to your side too. So let’s live long, long lives until then.”
For that day when they would meet again.
Long, long lives.
Where the thorn had been removed, affection took root. Moon-beom embraced Eun-hwi tightly, gaining unparalleled comfort and peace.
“Back then, when I had nothing, I never knew. That I would meet you.”
That I would fall completely in love with you, captivated by those yellow eyes that glow like they hold the moon.
“If it weren’t for you, I would still be wandering in darkness.”
Because he was no longer alone. Because he had someone precious by his side, he could move forward with hope.
Though it’s said no one knows what the future holds, Moon-beom never doubted they would meet again.
That’s what fate was—spreading like gentle ripples and approaching silently one day.
The two, anticipating another meeting, continued climbing the mountain and headed toward the forest where the Jangseung dokkaebi would be, passing a huge rocky hill.
The pine forest surrounded by layered rocks like a folding screen resembled Eun-hwi’s secret place where they had watched fireflies.
“This should be it…”
There was no sign of the Jangseung dokkaebi transformed into a human, nor even the jangseung standing tall in the middle of the forest. Just as they were bewildered by this unexpected situation, the clear sound of birdsong reached their ears.
“Child.”
“…Mountain God?”
Eun-hwi looked around at the crystal-clear voice that resonated in his chest. But the goddess was nowhere to be seen.
“This pine forest has strong yang energy, so I brought your father to Wolhwa Island. It’s still too early for him to take human form, so come when the full moon rises, when the power of the gui strengthens.”
“Full moon… the night when the full moon rises?”
It seemed that Gabi was recovering his body, which had returned to its original form, by absorbing the moon’s essence in the Mountain God’s domain. Disappointment at not being able to see his father immediately mixed with relief that he was safe.
“Instead, I’ll give you this.”
The Mountain God spoke in a loving voice, as if fully understanding his feelings. Soon, a phoenix-like bird with a long tail flew in and placed a scroll it had been carrying in its beak into Eun-hwi’s palm.
“What’s this?”
He immediately untied the scroll and spread it from left to right. The letter, written in a concise yet powerful hand, was left by the Jangseung dokkaebi for Eun-hwi.
To my little dokkaebi, Eun-hwi.
By the time you receive this letter, you will have become human. How does it feel to be a master of daylight, freed from the darkness of night?
I’m sorry for leaving your side without any warning. The justification that it was the only way to save you still pains my heart for making you lonely.
I have the ability to divine the fortunes and misfortunes of humans. However, I couldn’t read even your future—you who were sent out into the world against heaven’s laws.
Before your birth, I committed the sin of capturing the soul of Muryeon, who died, and guiding you to this world. I, who strictly governed all dokkaebis on the Korean peninsula, broke the rules.
Paternal love is truly a fearsome thing. The reason I had to leave Baekdu Mountain was not because of your shortcomings but because of this unworthy father, so I hope you won’t blame yourself.
There are consequences for those who commit sins. But being born is never a sin. Such a law doesn’t exist even in the deepest hell. Therefore, Yeomra spared your life and gave you a chance—until you came of age.
So I set out to find a human who could change your fate and erase your name from the book of the dead. A human who, like a jangseung firmly planted in the ground protecting the entire village, would change not only your destiny but also their own with strong determination and will.
Eun-hwi.
You are the living proof and fruit of Muryeon’s and my love.
You are not a child born in place of your mother. You have the souls of two people within you. So I hope you will live a long, healthy life, if only for Muryeon’s sake.
The human world is different from the world of gui—it’s complex and chaotic. It’s teeming with those who cannot discern right from wrong and those who don’t follow proper laws.
But all ups and downs occur within human affairs. Since even the most difficult situations are created by people, continue to trust those around you and yourself, just as you have done until now.
Eun-hwi, my blessing and reason for living.
I’m sorry and truly grateful that you grew up to be so righteous and kind despite having such an unworthy father.
Having just returned after atoning for my past sins, I lack strength and must substitute this letter instead. Please understand.
Let’s meet again soon.
I love you.
“Father… *sob*”
Unable to control the tears pouring down, Eun-hwi sobbed in Moon-beom’s embrace. His father’s love, much broader and deeper than he had vaguely imagined, made his heart ache.
Moon-beom, whose eyes had also reddened, gently patted Eun-hwi’s shoulder. The familiar scent and warmth of his embrace brought stability to Eun-hwi’s rapidly beating heart.
“Moon-beom… Moon-beom won the bet and saved my father. Thank you. For changing my fate. For letting me meet my father again. *sob*…”
“No, I’m the one who should be thankful. This is a result we created together.”
Yeo Moon-beom kissed Eun-hwi’s tear-soaked cheek and said:
“Let’s go back. To our home.”
The mysterious moon island.
Wolhwa Island.
To that place of all beginnings.
The half-dokkaebi—no, the now-human Eun-hwi—took the hand of his lifelong companion, waiting for the day when the full moon would rise.
Because they were together, because there was someone to support him, waiting was no longer lonely.
May this overwhelming happiness last forever.
He prayed earnestly while gazing at the sun they would watch rise together countless times in the future. The brilliant light shining down enveloped the two in warmth.
— The End of “The Dokkaebi Waiting for the Moon”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
