Translator: MarcTempest
Editor: AgRoseCrystal
Chapter 582 Part 1
The darkened theater.
On the screen, where the light came in, there were mountains that felt cold even though it was not snowing yet. As the scenery was slowly shown, a narration flowed from the speaker.
[I will never forget.]
It was Min-hanâs voice.
His calm voice stuck in the ears of the audience.
[The things that happened in those few months.]
The screen showed empty fields and a road between them.
An old car that looked like it belonged to a very long time ago was approaching on a slightly bumpy road.
A man, Min-han, who was looking at the fields where all the crops had been harvested because of winter, sniffed his nose and looked at the car.
A carriage that moved without a word.
He had seen it a few times and was not surprised, but it was still a curious device.
He turned his head following the car, and it seemed like he saw a pale face through the car window. Before he could tell how old he was, the car zoomed past him. Min-han blinked his eyes and looked at it, then moved his feet.
Min-han entered a straw-thatched house.
âIt looks like thereâs another guest at the mansion.â
ââ¦Really?â
An old man who was sitting on the floor nodded his head slowly at Min-hanâs words.
âI heard they were coming⦠It seems like they came today.â
âWhere did the guest come from?â
Min-han said as he chopped firewood. Winter was coming soon. He had to prepare firewood diligently.
âThey said they came from Hanyang.â
âWow! Hanyang! They came from far away. What do they do?â
âThey are a painter, but they hurt their hand and came to recuperate.â
Ah.
That was unfortunate.
âI hope they get better soon.â
ââ¦I think so too.â
The old man looked far away, beyond the mountains.
The screen turned black and then brightened.
âMin-han.â
âYes?â
âAre you not going to work at the mansion this winter?â
Min-han, who was working at the old manâs house today, blinked his eyes.
ââ¦The mansion? You mean, the Western-style mansion?â
âYes. They said they needed help. They will pay a lot of money tooâ¦â
The old man quietly told him, but the only words that entered Min-hanâs ears were mansion and money.
âOf course I have to go!â
He nodded his head repeatedly at the words that he could earn money in the winter when there was no work, and that he could enter the Western-style mansion that was almost forbidden. ð«Ð°ðòáÐÈ¿
***
At the corner of the road leading to the mansion, a middle-aged man with short hair was standing. It was Mr. Lee.
âHello. Sir.â
âHey. Are you feeling okay?â
âIâm fine, except for my health, Iâm a corpse.â
Mr. Lee smiled faintly at Min-hanâs bright smile.
âI heard a new guest came a while ago⦠They said they were a painter. They hurt their hand.â
âAhâ¦â
Mr. Leeâs expression clouded. Min-han could tell from his face that the painterâs condition was not very good.
Most of the people who came to this mansion were friends of the merchant who owned it, and they came to recuperate because they were sick.
Sometimes, when their condition improved, they would come to the village where Min-han lived for a drink, but there were scary people and nice people. They did not care about gender or age, and they were so diverse that Min-han thought the Western merchantâs network was amazing.
âYeah. He was a young but famous painter in Hanyang. But he got into a car accident in Hanyang and got seriously injured. He said he even got treated by a Western doctor⦠But it seems like he has a hard time with his daily life.â
Min-han and Mr. Lee entered the mansion gate while talking.
âIs this your first time entering the mansion?â
âYes. You always stopped me from entering, sir.â
As if he was distracted, Min-han looked around the mansion and said, and Mr. Lee chuckled.
âIâve been here for a long time, but Iâve never seen anyone who tried to make a hole in the wall like a dog. Never seen it.â
âHahaha. But you came running right away, sir.â
Min-han laughed shamelessly behind Mr. Lee, who was the manager of the mansion and was moving around to close the wide-open gate.
Thud, thud.
Min-han turned around at the sound.
ââ¦What are you doing now?â
âIâm closing the gate. What else?â
Mr. Lee closed the big gate and was closing another smaller gate. And he even put up supports on the double-closed door so that the wooden door would not fall.
ââ¦Thatâs too much for closing the gateâ¦â
âIsnât it too thorough?â
Min-han and the audience tilted their heads with the same thought.
Mr. Lee nodded his head vigorously at Min-hanâs puzzled look and drove a support between the wooden gaps.
âDo you know how many expensive things are in here? If you take off those glass windows, you can live for months. Oh, Iâm not talking about the village people. The world is dangerous, and sometimes thieves come.â
âAhâ¦â
Min-han nodded his head.
This was a countryside where almost no outsiders came unless they were guests of the mansion, but sometimes strangers appeared. He had heard the village people talking about them, saying they were living in hiding in the nearby mountains, and he had seen them too.
He did not like those outsiders, but he did not know what they would do, so he kept a distance from them.
Min-han turned his head again and looked at the shining Western-style mansion.
âI guess it makes sense that they would come to steal from a place like this.â
âSometimes there are fools who act like runaway calves and try to get in.â
âHahaha.â
Min-han, who had been a runaway calf himself, laughed shamelessly again.
âThat was the most fun thing in this boring village.â
âI know that.â
Mr. Lee smiled softly, remembering the children who ran away laughing.
Thud!
He propped up the last support and closed the gate firmly. Mr. Lee stood next to Min-han and looked at the mansion.
âHelp me with the yard cleaning later. Oh, do you see that? The place on the second floor where the curtains are drawn. Thatâs the young masterâs room.â
Min-han looked up at Mr. Leeâs words.
âIt has the best view. You might say what kind of view there is in this villageâ¦â
ââ¦Sir.â
âUh?â
Min-han called him and Mr. Lee, who was heading to the entrance of the mansion, turned around. Min-hanâs eyes, which were looking up at the second floor, seemed to have lost their focus.
ââ¦What is a curtain?â
The audience let out a small laugh at Min-hanâs awkward pronunciation. They also laughed again when Min-han was surprised by the cuckoo clock.
Min-han and Mr. Lee greeted Madam Go and went up to the second floor. There was a faint sound of something hitting. Mr. Lee, who looked pale, ran and shouted. He looked anxious.
âClose the door when you come in!â
Moviegoer and the audience, who thought it was a healing story about Min-han, who was ignorant of the Western culture, and the painter who came to recuperate at the Western-style mansion, blinked their eyes at the sudden change of atmosphere.
A room stained with darkness.
Thud! Thud!
There was a rough breathing sound along with the sound. And there was a moving shadow.
They felt the intense atmosphere even from the other side of the darkness, and they wondered what was going on, what the movie would be about from now on, and each of them had their own guesses.
A perfect immersion that made them just watch.
The reason that was faintly left in the minds of the moviegoers who were forced to fall into that immersion said. They did not know who that actor was, but he would be a great actor in the future.
Mr. Lee rushed to the shadow, and Min-han also grabbed the shadow from the front.
â¦Thud.
That dull sound was not the sound of a hammer or something hitting the table.
It was only the soft skin and muscles that were mercilessly slammed into the table without any protection. And it was not by someone else, but by the owner of that body.
He wondered if he was not in pain, but the two arms and hands he was holding were trembling with pain. He also felt a rough breathing that sounded painful, tired, or⦠angry.
At that moment.
Min-han and the young masterâs eyes met.
The audience and the young masterâs eyes also met.
�??
The movement of Moviegoer and the audience stopped. They forgot to breathe, and looked at the screen like a stone. Their mouths and eyes slowly opened.
The young masterâs eyes sparkled in the dark. It was a painful look that Min-han had never seen before. And it seemed like there was a fierce emotion that Min-han could not understand.
â¦!!
A silent scream from the audience seat reached the VIP seat. Of course, the VIP seat also showed the same reaction, except for the people who knew in advance.
The four actors of the Lee Seo-jun troupe smiled softly, not taking their eyes off the screen.
Of course, Seo-junâs acting made him look like a completely different person, but it was hard not to recognize him in a scene where he showed his face so openly. Especially since he hardly wore any makeup.
?!?!?
In the midst of such confusion, the movie continued. And the two selves of the audience began to fight.
The self who calmly analyzed the situation said.
That actor is Lee Seo-jun, right? Itâs Lee Seo-jun! Why is Lee Seo-jun here!? Heâs crazy! I have to scream and tell the outside! Aaah!
The self who was immersed in the movie said.
Shut up and watch the movie. Are you not going to watch such a great acting?!
The young masterâs eyes died.
The intense look and expression that he had just before felt like a dream, as the young masterâs appearance now had no life at all. He just looked like he was about to die, or like he was sinking into a deep swamp.
The self who was immersed in the movie said.
â¦Letâs watch the movie first.
***
A few days passed.
Thump.
Min-han, who was lying on his bed in his room, opened his eyes with a start at the faint sound.
Thump. Thump.
He got up quietly from his bed and went out of his room as the sound came again.
The place with bigger windows and curtains than the other rooms.
Under the moonlight that came in through the curtains, a man in Western clothes was standing. He was standing very still.
From Min-hanâs perspective, the audience could see that he was straining his neck so hard that the veins were visible, but his arms were still trembling. They realized why the young master couldnât paint anymore. Pity filled the auditorium.
ââ¦Huuâ¦â
Min-han lifted his head with a jolt. And he stared blankly.
The young master was crying.
He held his trembling hands very carefully and preciously, and pressed them against his forehead as if praying, sobbing without making a proper sound.
His face was distorted and tears fell, drop by drop.
Each drop of tears seemed to be full of regret for the paintings he couldnât let go of, he didnât want to lose.
In the midst of such a heartbreaking sorrow, his hands and arms were still shaking uncontrollably. The young master finally collapsed with his hands clasped. And he curled up his body and cried quietly, sadly, but silently.
Looking at the back of the young master, who curled up his body as if protecting his hands, Min-han felt as if he had seen something he shouldnât have seen.
[Now I think I was lucky to see that.]
The scene changed, and three people who were making kimchi appeared. They were chatting and Min-han asked.
âBy the way, how did the young master get into a carriage accident?â
At Min-hanâs question, Mr. Lee and Madam Go, who were cutting radishes, stopped their hands and looked at each other. Mr. Lee opened his mouth with a grunt at Madam Goâs gaze.
âWell⦠he got into an accident while trying to save someone.â
âAhâ¦â
ââ¦Heâs a great person. Heâs so youngâ¦â
ââ¦Will his arm always be like that?â
ââ¦Yes. They say he can reduce the tremors with rehabilitation, but⦠itâs hard to do delicate work like painting.â
[I didnât know why my heart sank at Mr. Leeâs words.]
Min-han quietly looked up at the second floor, where the curtains were closed.
The young master right now.
Did he regret saving that person back then?
[The young master.]
[He might have regretted it.]
***
ââ¦The!..The cheapest one!â
The audience, who were moved by Min-hanâs request for painting tools to the peddler, laughed faintly at his shout.
A little later.
The peddler arrived.
Knock.
Min-han knocked on the door of the third room on the right and carefully entered, closing the door tightly so that no light would enter.
The bright outside and the dark inside.
He vividly remembered the young masterâs figure, who was hitting his arms. Then, he also recalled the scene of him crying silently in the middle of the night. His hand holding the cloth felt heavy. He wasnât sure if this was a good idea.
ââ¦I brought you lunch. Andâ¦â
Min-han placed the cloth next to the tray.
âI donât know much about painting⦠I looked around the room and there was nothing⦠No, Mr. Lee said you liked painting.â
There was no answer.
Min-han, who was babbling, scratched his neck a little awkwardly.
âI prepared some brushes and materialsâ¦â
Somehow.
It seemed like the young masterâs body flinched in the darkness.
âThatâs⦠I feel good just looking at coins. Even if I donât spend them. So I thought you might feel good if you saw thisâ¦â
As if that flinch was an illusion, the young master was silent. Min-han licked his lips and finished his words with a bitter smile.
âThen Iâll go out.â
Click.
The door closed.
The camera focused on the young master lying on the bed.
Brushes, materials.
Those words slowly awakened the consciousness of the unknown painter who was sinking into the darkness.
He faintly agreed with the manâs words that followed.
Yes. The unknown painter felt the same way.
He felt good just looking at the white paper and the brushes.
The excitement of thinking about how to fill this blank paper, what meaning to put in the empty spaces. The thrill of holding the brush and coloring the white paper, capturing exactly what he imagined. The satisfaction of looking at the finished painting.
The unknown painter missed all of that.
Even until now, when he couldnât paint anymore.
That feeling showed on the face of the unknown painter who closed his eyes.
Slowly, longing and sadness began to bloom on the face that was dying without any warmth. The faint emotion gradually grew stronger.
And finally, his expression blurred as if he was about to shed tears.
The unknown painter couldnât bear the longing that came like a wave.
Ignoring his trembling hands, he got up and walked slowly toward the table.
Next to the familiar tray, there was a wooden box he had never seen before.
His heart pounded.
He felt a little thirsty and also a little dizzy. His staggering steps seemed to get faster without him knowing.
He felt like he had stopped breathing.
He grabbed the lid of the wooden box with his trembling hand. And he opened it more carefully than ever.
ââ¦Ha ha!â
He saw the paper, brushes, ink and inkstone neatly arranged in the box, and the unknown painter laughed without realizing it.
The audience was puzzled by his laughter, but only for a moment.
âI, I paint Western paintings.â
âOops.â
âSo I donât use inkstone and ink.â
He heard a small laugh.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
âThe paper and brushes are different, too.â
Min-han unwittingly opened his mouth wide. His face turned red.
âBut stillâ¦â
Somehow.
It seemed like the young master was smiling.