The Human Talisman

Leaving the car behind in the rural village two hours and thirty minutes from Seoul, Saewha followed the winding mountain path for another thirty minutes until they reached the hermitage where NaJu Bosal’s spiritual daughter resided.

“Ahigo, Bosal-nim!”

When Yeokhyeon finally met the spiritual daughter of NaJu Bosal—the woman whose prophecy had foretold her husband’s death—her face lit up with the desperate joy of a lost blood relative. Tears streamed down her cheeks without pause.

“The fate of my late husband is truly unbearable. When I heard the words of caution from our shamaness mother, I should have taken action then… but I didn’t.”

“Living as if our home has no walls, day after day… If only I could have lived another ten years, my Seonwu would have matured and everything would have been ready for him to take over. Uuugh…”

“What a wretched soul I am…”

Yonghwa Shaman pulled Yeokhyeon into an embrace and wept bitterly, his voice thick with grief.

“I have searched for you, Yonghwa Bosal, for more than ten years. When the samjae disaster loomed over my Seonwu, I believed we had to find the spiritual daughter of NaJu Bosal before that time. How my heart burned…”

“Since the gods arranged it, we have met again,” Yeokhyeon whispered, her voice barely audible.

After the storm of tears passed and she regained her composure, Yeokhyeon gently pushed Seonwoo forward toward the shaman.

“Bosal-nim, this year my only son Seonwoo is said to fall into the samjae. Please, I beg you, protect our Seonwoo and keep him safe.”

She trusted Yonghwa Shaman completely upon learning she was the spiritual daughter of NaJu Bosal—no questions asked.

Until that moment, Seonwoo had simply assumed his mother had made an appointment with a shaman to perform the samjae protection rite, as she always did.

“We will offer the rite so that no evil influences enter the Jeong clan,” the shaman promised.

“Thank you, thank you, Bosal-nim.”

Seonwoo listened with half an ear while wandering through the interior of the hermitage.

The exterior of the hermitage looked as if it might collapse at any moment, yet inside the shrine it was far more opulent than anything he had ever seen.

A golden statue sheathed in gold leaf stood tall, and the altar offerings—piled so high they reached fifty centimeters—looked more like decorations than genuine ritual items.

The door of the shrine suddenly slid open, revealing a woman in the same plain robes as Yonghwa Shaman.

“Mother. It is Saewha. I have brought the chrysanthemum tea.”

Inside the shrine, Saewha’s face was pale and visibly ill.

“Yes, bring it here.”

The woman approached the shrine carrying a tray with the teacup when another voice called from outside.

“Mom, let me carry it. I’ll do it.”

A young woman in faded light-blue jeans and a worn burgundy sweater stepped in and took the tray. She looked no older than her late teens, though she had the porcelain skin of Seoul’s elite. Her hair was pulled back tightly into a single ponytail with no trace of styling.

She knelt before the three of them and placed the chrysanthemum-decorated teapot on the floor.

Yonghwa Shaman continued speaking as if unaware of the newcomer’s arrival.

“Looking at Seonwoo’s birth chart, this samjae will be difficult to overcome.”

Yeokhyeon sighed softly. She had heard the same warning from other shamans she had visited before coming here.

“People with strong auras attract even stronger disasters. The stronger the aura, the fiercer the disaster that follows.”

“In cases where the chart is unfavorable, one should place the birth-chart tokens in the coffin, perform the funeral rites to deceive the spirits, and then create a new chart under a new name. That is the proper method.”

Meanwhile, the young woman poured hot tea into the empty cups.

Although the cool mountain air carried a faint, sharp scent, no one touched the cups.

“If it is for our Seonwoo, Bosal-nim, the more offerings the better.”

“The problem is that Seonwoo’s aura is so strong that even ghosts would not be fooled.”

“Then is there no way?”

“There is a way.”

The young woman rose with the tray and left the room. While Yeokhyeon and the shaman spoke, Seonwoo lifted the teacup to his lips.

“I should have written a samjae protection talisman.”

“As the spiritual daughter of NaJu Bosal, I believe in her divine power, but the samjae protection talismans have already been used elsewhere.”

“That is why I came all this way to find you.”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Then we should use a more effective talisman—something like a human talisman.”

The moment the words “human talisman” left his mouth, Seonwoo nearly choked on his tea.

“In the past there were people who drank the water used to burn talismans and absorbed their power. But nothing is as certain as writing a strong talisman and taking it into your body yourself.”

To become a talisman for a person and absorb their power. Simply hearing the idea sent chills down Seonwoo’s spine.

Seonwoo set the cup down with a sharp clatter.

“Mother, we should leave.”

“Seonwoo.”

But Yeokhyeon ignored him. She reached out and yanked his arm, forcing him to sit beside her again.

“Stay still. Listen to what Bosal-nim has to say.”

The men of the Jeong clan had short lifespans. Not only had her father-in-law died young, but all of Seonwoo’s uncles had passed away before their time.

It was only because Jeong Geunchul had lived a few years longer than his brothers that he could become chairman of Samjeong Group.

All of them had died before their children grew up, which allowed Geunchul to swallow the entire conglomerate whole. Yet even he had died of a brain hemorrhage on his sixtieth birthday.

Before his sudden death, Yeokhyeon had been utterly bewildered. She had feared that her son might share the same fate as the men of the Jeong clan.

Before her husband died, NaJu Bosal had prophesied his death. She had tried to prepare a countermeasure, but because he refused to believe in shamanic faith, she had been helpless.

Now ten years after his death, her son was falling into the samjae. And it was a particularly harsh one—middle-age samjae—falling between the ages of twenty-six and fifty-five.

Desperate, Yeokhyeon had searched for the greatest shaman across the country until she heard the news that the spiritual daughter of NaJu Bosal lived in this remote hermitage.

She had come grasping at straws.

“I have heard the saying ‘three heads, one body, three enemies.’”

“Yes. Other Bosal-nims have also given us the three-head-one-body samjae protection talisman.”

Seonwoo had already used several talismans before the samjae arrived—some stuck to the wall, others sewn into the lining of his suit jacket.

“I see. A three-head-one-body talisman splits the incoming disaster into three separate heads and destroys each one. That is why they are called samjae protection and samjae destruction talismans.”

“Yes, Bosal-nim.”

“In the past, burning the samjae destruction talisman and drinking the water was considered effective because it trapped the talisman’s power inside the body. But through my shamaness mother and the shamaness mother of my shamaness mother, I have inherited a secret technique passed down for generations.”

“A secret technique?”

“You draw a talisman for a person and turn them into a guardian talisman placed beside you.”

Seonwoo frowned deeply. In this modern era, hearing such archaic nonsense made him dizzy.

Yeokhyeon, however, lit up with hope as she looked at Yonghwa Shaman. She had come seeking a more certain method than the similar samjae destruction rites others offered. The “human talisman” she had never heard of felt like salvation.

“It wouldn’t be difficult to find someone to become a talisman,” she said.

Surprisingly, Yonghwa Shaman gave a dismissive wave toward the door.

“Did you see that young woman who left with the tray?”

“Ah! The one wearing the burgundy sweater?”

“Yes. She is my shamaness’s daughter. She grew up in the mountains, so her aura is pure and clean. She has the perfect body to become a talisman.”

Seonwoo could no longer restrain himself. He stood up abruptly.

“This is outrageous.”

Yonghwa Shaman was pure evil.

“So you mean you want me to turn this teenage girl into a human talisman and keep her by my side?”

The woman Seonwoo had seen leaving with the tray looked no older than twenty, even if she appeared a few years older than that.

“Her youthful face is because she has not yet been sullied by the world. She is twenty-one this year.”

Seonwoo cursed under his breath, a word he rarely used.

“Back when you were twenty-one you were an adult. Today twenty-one-year-olds are still children who know nothing. You want to drag this innocent girl into the middle of samjae nonsense?”

Seonwoo was already moving toward the door when Yeokhyeon rushed forward and grabbed his arm.

“Seonwoo!”

“Mother, please calm down now.”

“Seonwoo, breathe. Breathe and leave.”

In the end, Yeokhyeon shoved him outside the shrine with a firm push.

“I’ll talk to Bosal-nim for a moment. You go outside and cool off.”

Outside, Seonwoo looked up at the sky through the dense forest. Although it was still morning and the sun had not yet reached its zenith, the area around the hermitage was as dark as dawn. Snow that had never melted remained piled in the crevices.

Seonwoo walked along the trail circling the hermitage, letting his mind calm.

Unlike Seoul, the only sounds here were the rustle of leaves in the wind and the occasional bird calls.

‘A human talisman…’

Even after thinking it over, the idea remained absurd.

He had heard that Yonghwa Shaman had lived in seclusion in this hermitage for a long time. That explained the slightly deranged aura she carried.

As he walked the forest path, Seonwoo lifted his head at the sound of running water. Not far ahead lay a small valley where clear water flowed between rocks that had not melted.

He headed toward the only place where sunlight reached when a rustling sound came from behind.

“!”

The young woman from the shrine was following him toward the valley.

“Excuse me…”