Jiyon wouldn’t remember everything, but she would at least know that she’d had some kind of special dream.
It wouldn’t be a vivid memory—just a lingering feeling…….
Even Iri felt a twinge of regret that someone with a white mouse soul lacked spiritual sight. She could’ve made an excellent employee.
But what could be done?
His brief connection with Jiyon had ended, and Jiyon would move forward toward a special path that only she could walk.
And Iri had his own work to do. Even today, there were countless matters at the rental shop waiting for an Immortal’s touch. That was the path laid out for him.
***
2) Dojin’s Branch
“What do you mean, canceled? No—how can you cancel now? You were freaking out saying it was urgent, so I went all the way to Jeju Island myself and busted my ass cutting it, and now you’re saying this bullshit? That’s some real dog-shit nonsense. No cancellations. You can’t cancel. Get your ass to the rental shop right—”
“Dojin.”
Hearing the phone call, Iri set down the curio he’d been working on and quickly approached, holding out his hand. Snorting like an enraged bull, Dojin thrust the receiver at him.
Iri calmly took over the call.
“Mm. …I see. Right. If you don’t need it anymore, that’s a good thing.… It’s fine. Yes.”
After hanging up, Iri looked at Dojin. At the silent reproach, Dojin snapped.
“No, I’m right, aren’t I? Some asshole named Yeotjari or whatever—name sounds like taffy shit too—says they’re busy as hell, swear up and down they absolutely need it. So I go all the way to Jeju Island myself to harvest Haegwangcho, and now they no-show? That makes sense to you? We asked them to give us some time, but they lost their damn minds saying it had to be today, so I went, and now they cancel? You should get mad too, Master!”
“They needed it because they were sick, and now they’re better. That’s a good thing.”
“Then they should’ve called earlier! They don’t show up even after the appointment time passes, so I call to ask where they are, and then they cancel? That’s normal? People would tear them apart online for that. Our rental shop should ban no-show guests from coming back! Or at least ban rentals for a year! Or make them pay virtue upfront as a deposit!”
“They recovered right before dying, so they probably didn’t have the presence of mind to contact us. And they’re not a ‘guest’—they’re a customer.”
“Whatever! I’m saying you should scold customers like this. You always take the customer’s side and never mine.”
The reason Iri insisted on correcting ‘guest’ to ‘customer’ wasn’t out of respect—it was because there were Wia literally called ‘Gaksi Guest,’ ‘Hoban Guest,’ and so on. Since those ‘guests’ were classified as malevolent beings, Iri had taught Dojin from a young age not to misuse the word.
Feeling slighted, Dojin stuck his lip out several inches and plopped down into a chair. In front of him sat the Haegwangcho extract he’d painstakingly brewed to give to Yeotjari.
Yeotjari was a Yokai with a humanoid form that usually wandered around split into six pieces. When its left arm fell ill and began rotting away, it had asked Iri for help.
For treatment, it needed Haegwangcho, an herb that only appeared at certain times underwater near Jeju Island. Iri had been too busy to go, so Dojin had gone alone late at night. He’d brewed the medicine from dawn, carefully preparing the extract—only for the appointment time to pass without them showing up. Worried, he’d called, only to be told they were fully healed and didn’t need it anymore.
Even someone less hot-tempered than Dojin would’ve been furious, but Iri remained unbothered.
“Master, your emotional range is way too narrow.”
Iri was always like a still lake. The only time the surface ever rippled was when he felt troubled by Dojin’s reckless antics.
That calm attitude only made Dojin angrier.
“They know you never get mad, so they act even more out of line! When I think about how much you’ve struggled on your own all this time, I seriously—”
“I haven’t struggled that much.”
“Just wait. When I become King, I’m making a rule: no-show customers are banned from renting for a year. The Wia world is due for some changes.”
Dojin clenched his fist.
“I’ll lock up every last one of those asshole no-show freaks in the Podo Office.”
“You can make whatever rules you want, but maybe you should avoid such violent language if you’re aiming to become King.”
“What violent language did I use?”
“You said ‘assholes.’”
“I don’t care. I’ll curse once and build virtue three times over. Fuck.”
“…….”
“Then I’ll build it six times!”
Grabbing the Haegwangcho vial, Dojin stood up and headed for the display shelf. Thud, thud, thud, thud—listening to the footsteps that made no effort to hide Dojin’s mood, Iri slowly shook his head.
It wasn’t because he didn’t understand.
It was because he felt sorry for him.
Dojin being hot-tempered and short-fused was only natural.
He possessed monstrous strength and had to learn how to control it before he even learned how to walk. From the moment he was born, he’d broken the bones of everyone, from nurses to his own parents. Toys shattered the moment he touched them—he couldn’t even hold them and shake them around.
He’d spent his entire life restraining himself, enduring everything, so of course anger piled up inside him.
And on top of that, he worked at a rental shop full of problem customers like this…….
When anger builds up too much, it turns into something called hwabyeong.
Once hwabyeong sets in, it’s difficult to cure.
Iri realized it was about time to release some of Dojin’s pent-up anger and stress.
Thinking about how to do that, he absentmindedly scanned his memo pad.
① Hexagonal Tree – Regeneration of a branch that won’t sprout
Required – ‘Feather Flute’
② Pseudo-Ants – Spring hibernation provisions
Required – ‘Grass Seasoning’
③ Mountain Realm Account (Consultation)
④ Bokgi (Abdominal Hunger) – Spring hibernation provisions
Required – ‘Grass Seasoning’
.
.
.
Looking over the list, there were two cases that required ‘Grass Seasoning’. Iri had a good idea. He pulled out his phone—just as Dojin came stomping back with heavy footsteps.
“Dojin. The house is going to collapse.”
“It’s not collapsing. Why are you calling someone again? Are you scolding Yeotjari?”
“No…. I’m trying to contact Yori-iki. But now that I think about it, Yori-iki doesn’t have a phone.”
“Should we use the ‘Distant Butterfly’?”
“We should.”
Dojin, who had just returned, went back into the room again and came out holding something. It was a transparent case containing about half a stack of square, multicolored paper, each side about 15 centimeters long.
Dojin took out a sheet and handed it to Iri. This multicolored paper was the curio known as the ‘Distant Butterfly’, used to contact Wia who still didn’t have phones in this era.
[We need bamboo bird eggs—should we go today or tomorrow?]
Without even a greeting, Iri wrote only the matter at hand, folded the blank paper, and handed it back to Dojin.
“Huh? You want me to fold it?”
“Yeah. Try folding it nicely.”
“Leave it to me.”
Dojin carefully folded the paper. In the end, a perfectly crafted butterfly emerged. After a lifetime of controlling his strength, he’d become adept even at such delicate work.
“You fold better than I do. Good job.”
“I’m good at anything that uses my hands. No—anything that uses my body. You can leave it to me anytime.”
“All right. Then will you send it off?”
“Yes, sir.”
After being praised Dojin’s mood immediately improved. Grinning broadly, he went out into the yard and released the butterfly. It fluttered its wings and disappeared far into the sky. That, too, was a difficult Taoist technique, and he’d executed it flawlessly. Clearly pleased with himself, Dojin hurried back and sat beside Iri with a look that practically begged for praise.
“Dojin, you’re good at sending it off too. Build a bit more virtue, and you’ll become an Immortal in no time.”
“Will you give me a kiss for once? It’s been a while.”
“…Let’s keep working. We’ve got a mountain of things to do.”
“You used to give me so many kisses when I was little. Are my cheeks not soft anymore?”
“What time is it now. Ah, 11 o’clock. We should prepare the ‘Feather Flute’ first…….”
“You can dodge me all you want now. Once I become King, I’ll make a rule—twelve kisses a day—wait. What time did you say it was?”
“Just past 11.”
Dojin’s gaze snapped to the schedule.
11:00 a.m.) Hexagonal Tree – ‘Feather Flute’
Aaaagh! Hot-tempered Dojin instantly flew into a rage again.
“Isn’t this Hexagonal Tree bastard no-showing too? We went all the way to Gyeryongsan and back—if they no-show, I swear I won’t let it slide! Don’t stop me!”
“I won’t. Because that won’t happen.”
“They’re not here yet!”
“They are.”
“Huh?”
Just as Dojin scowled deeply and asked, ding-dong—the chime rang. Of those who rang the bell at Iri’s Curio Rental Shop, 99.999% were customers. Fortunately, it seemed the Hexagonal Tree had arrived on time. Dojin’s blazing temper barely settled.
When he heard the name “Hexagonal Tree”, Dojin had imagined a massive tree as large as the oak in the garden. With such an angular, rigid name, he’d expected a big, solid, tree-shaped Wia.
Instead, the Wia before him was a tiny tree only 20 centimeters tall, with a single branch and exactly three leaves. Smaller even than the succulents grown at home, the Hexagonal Tree extended its roots, held a teacup, and sipped with a slurp.
“I’ve heard so many people praising the rental shop’s tea, and wow—it’s nicely lukewarm and pleasantly bitter. It’s really niceee.”
Even its way of speaking was cute. Dojin felt confident he wouldn’t lose his temper with a Wia like this.
Iri smiled faintly at the rare peaceful atmosphere.
“Dojin brewed it. You’ve already exchanged greetings, right?”
“We diddd. Kim Dojin the human answered the phone earlier, rememberrr. His tone was super rough, so I was scareddd—but in person, he looks even scarierrr. But the tea’s gooddd. Guess I had the wrong impressionnn.”
“I’m not a bad person. Please spread the word among the local Wia. Tell them I don’t look as bad as my reputation. And that I make good tea.”
“Okaaay. That’s easyyy.”
“Thank you. Would you like a snack? I have some jujube fruit.”
“……!”
The Hexagonal Tree began trembling violently, then flung the teacup aside.
