The Ghost of Sowol Inn
Mr. Han shrieked and stumbled backward.
A pair of chopsticks was floating in midair.
Trembling like a leaf, he squeezed his eyes shut.
I must be seeing things.
He hadn't fully woken up yet. Since when could chopsticks float in midair, of all things? Soothing himself, Mr. Han slowly lifted his fluttering eyelids.
The chopsticks were still floating in midair.
No — now they were bobbing up and down, almost as if to tease him.
The color drained from his face.
"A g-g-ghost…… It's a ghost!"
He bolted out of the inn as fast as his legs could carry him.
Sowol scratched his cheek as he surveyed the empty main hall.
"Why aren't any customers coming?"
By this hour he would normally have sold at least six or seven bowls of somyeon, yet not a single customer had appeared. Not one. At this rate, he'd be dumping the whole pot of noodle broth again tonight.
Business had never been this dead — and that without a single flurry of snow to blame. It had been three days already since customer traffic to the inn had cut off completely. Even Sowol, who kept telling himself they'll come tomorrow, surely they'll come tomorrow, was starting to feel a sense of crisis.
It felt exactly like when he'd first opened the inn over a decade ago, back when the villagers were so frightened of his appearance that they wouldn't come anywhere near the place.
"Something's off here……"
What really gnawed at him was the merchant who had come running out in the middle of the night a few days back. In the end, Sowol rose from his seat. He'd decided to venture into the village today.
Just then, a familiar face pushed open the inn's door.
"Brother Yeon, you in?"
It was Jang Wi from next door.
"Jang Wi, welcome. Come on in."
Sowol greeted him warmly. Having anyone at all show up put his mind at ease.
"Have you eaten? Shall I whip up a bowl of somyeon for you?"
"Ah, I ate a while ago. I'm fine, truly."
"Then let me pour you some tea, at least. Have a seat there."
Jang Wi nodded and settled at a table. He quietly watched Sowol bring the tea out, then kept opening his mouth as if to speak and closing it again, glancing at Sowol's face all the while. Uncharacteristically, he seemed to be hemming and hawing.
"Brother. Do you happen to know about the rumor going around the village?"
"A rumor? What rumor?"
At Sowol's answer, Jang Wi scratched the back of his head.
"……Aigoo, so you don't know a thing."
"What is it? Did something happen?"
"Word's spread far and wide that a ghost is haunting your inn, Brother Yeon."
"What kind of nonsense is that—ahem. You're saying it's utter rubbish?"
"A merchant stayed the night here a few days back, didn't he?"
"He did. Said his throat was dry, and while I'd stepped away to fetch some leaf tea, he came sprinting out screaming."
"That's the man."
"Hmm?"
"He's been telling everyone at the market that he saw a ghost in your inn. Says the chopsticks came flying through the air."
Sowol snorted.
"Hah? Chopsticks flying through the air? The man must be qi-deficient."
"Right? That's what I thought too."
Jang Wi let out a hearty laugh. Sowol laughed along with him, though his expression was anything but bright.
A cold bead of sweat slid down Sowol's back.
Who could have guessed the baby would learn to levitate chopsticks in the short while his back was turned?
"Do all the villagers actually believe it?"
"Folks who know you figure Mr. Han just saw wrong. But the market folk all seem convinced."
"……Oh dear."
As Sowol swallowed a bitter laugh, Jang Wi offered a word of comfort.
"Rumors like that die out quick enough. I only came to let you know, seeing as you seemed unaware."
"I appreciate it."
"What are neighbors for?"
Waving his hands in dismissal, Jang Wi stole a glance toward the cradle and launched into a rambling stretch of talk — how was the little one doing, was she sleeping well at night, wouldn't it be wise to stoke the brazier a bit more in this cold. Then, seemingly out of things to say, he rose to his feet.
"Anyway, don't let it trouble you too much. I'll be heading back, Brother."
"Take care out there."
"Still, I can't just let this sit. I'll have a word with the village elder."
"No need to go to such trouble. Leave it be."
"Don't worry. I won't say anything that puts you in a bad light."
With that, Jang Wi stepped out of the inn.
Hardly had he finished seeing Jang Wi off with a smile when the door swung shut, and Sowol leaned against it, pressing a hand to his forehead.
……How on earth do I clean this up?
No ready solution came to mind.
He could dismiss it as groundless gossip. All he had to do was insist the merchant had still been half-asleep and seen things.
Except the problem was that the little bundle in that cradle really had levitated the chopsticks.
If he kept receiving guests without some countermeasure, next time it might not be chopsticks flying through the air, but the ladle.
Or who was to say a customer's rice bowl wouldn't float right off the table, whole?
Sowol shot the cradle a sidelong glance and grumbled.
"You little rascal. What do you expect me to do?"
The baby, oblivious to his woes, beamed up at him.
"Oh, that's funny, is it? Just stay put and behave."
Tossing a remark at the baby as it wiggled its fingers, he pulled on his outer robe. Sitting there brooding wasn't going to bring the customers back. Sweeping the yard seemed a better use of the time.
Just as Sowol readied himself to go out, Baekya, who had been upstairs, poked his face over the stair rail.
"Big Brother, going out?"
"Going to sweep in front of the gate. Watch the baby for me."
"Okay."
Baekya answered obediently and went to sit beside the cradle. Satisfied, Sowol turned away.
The moment he opened the door, the biting winter wind raked across his cheeks. He pulled his collar tight and picked up the broom he kept stowed in the corner.
Dust and stray twigs, blown in overnight by the wind, lay scattered sparsely across the yard. Sweeping lightly as he went, Sowol made his way toward the front gate — and the instant he opened it, a barrage of stares rained down on him.
A cluster of children huddled in front of the old zelkova tree, peering at the inn.
"What are you all doing there?"
"KYAAAH! It's the ghost!"
"It's Ghost Mister! Run!"
The children scattered in all directions, shrieking.
"……"
Sowol clicked his tongue, looking utterly deflated.
Mangryang, monster, and now ghost — as if the titles weren't enough already.
But what mattered right now wasn't whether people called Sowol a ghost or not.
It was that the rice jar was showing its bottom.
Sowol spread open his account book.
Clack, clack.
The sound of abacus beads clicked through the quiet interior of the inn. After glaring at the abacus for a long while, Sowol finally pressed his brow tight.
No need to crunch any more numbers. This month was in the red again.
And there was no need to deliberate over the cause, either. Sowol slowly turned his head.
His eyes landed on the little bundle squirming inside the cradle.
"Something barely the size of a fist, and yet it quietly burns through money."
Letting out a sigh, Sowol drew the gold ingot from the depths of the chest where he'd kept it carefully tucked away.
It was true that he'd rather not touch the money Beopgong had left behind. But with a baby to feed, he had no intention of clinging to pointless pride.
The trouble was, there was nowhere in this rural backwater that could accept a gold ingot. The merchants of Goam Village were in no position to take a whole gold piece in change. The nearest money changer was in the prefectural city — a good fifty li from here.
"He could've brought silver ingots or copper coins instead. Only thinks to carry the most inconveniently large thing."
Grumbling, Sowol tucked the gold ingot back into the chest and stroked his chin in thought.
How do I cover this deficit?
I could raid a mountain stronghold, like old times—
He shook his head almost immediately. Back in the day, wiping out a single stronghold would have taken him less than half a day. But now he'd have to borrow Baekya's hands to do it.
"……I can't make the kid do anything I'd be ashamed of."
Sowol clicked his tongue. He racked his brain for another way, but nothing promising came. The only option was to sell even one more bowl of somyeon.
The problem was……
Word's spread far and wide that a ghost is haunting your inn, Brother Yeon.
There were no customers left to buy his noodles.
"Hoo……"
Letting out a long breath, Sowol closed the account book. Then he walked over to the cradle and locked eyes with the baby.
"Little one. Listen to Uncle very carefully. From now on, you must never, ever lift anything. Not a single thing."
"……"
"You're the reason this ridiculous rumor's going around. Keep this up and Uncle's going to starve to death. Just stay quiet and behave. Do you understand?"
The baby answered with a bright, beaming smile instead of words.
And at the same moment, its eyes gleamed gold —
Swish.
The abacus on the table rose into the air.
"Aagh, I told you not to!"
The moment Sowol snatched the abacus out of the air in agony and set it atop the chest, a familiar voice came from outside the door.
"Brother Yeon! Are you asleep?"
It was Jang Wi. But there was more than one set of footsteps. A dignified cough followed close behind.
"Master Yeon, may we come in for a moment?"
The village elder's voice.
Sowol looked reflexively at the cradle. Two beady little eyes were fixed squarely on the door.
"One moment, please!"
He cried out urgently and snatched the cradle up in his arms. But the two men did not wait for him.
Creeeak.
"……Brother Yeon, what are you doing?"
Jang Wi blinked as he opened the door.
Sowol, feigning perfect composure, rocked the cradle from side to side.
"Getting the baby to sleep."
"Ah……. Right."
Behind them came the village elder, bundled in a thick padded coat, wearing an unusually grave expression. Sowol set the cradle down as if nothing had happened.
"What brings you both here?"
"Brother Yeon. We've been thinking of a way to clear up this misunderstanding."
"What way?"
The elder spoke with solemn gravity.
"Tonight, the two of us will lodge here at your inn."
"……Tonight, you say?"
"If we spend a night here and see nothing at all, wouldn't that be proof there's no ghost?"
Sowol calmly weighed his words of refusal. But refusing would be as good as confessing he had something to hide. His mind raced.
He'd bring out a late-night snack, and while the two men were eating it, he'd carry the cradle upstairs and keep the baby well away from them. That should work.
"……Very well, then."
"Glad you came around!"
Just as the elder stroked his beard in satisfaction, a babble burst from the cradle.
"Aaa-oooh……"
And in its wake—
Clack.
An abacus bead on the chest went off all by itself.
"……Didn't you just hear something?"
The elder's head swiveled this way and that.
Sowol's face went pale.