101
Several Days at Home — Silence with His Mother, the Village's Gaze
The few days spent in his hometown passed evenly.They resembled the time needed for water that had long stood still to recover its flow.
His mother did not ask.Where he had gone.What he had seen.How many people he had lost.How many he had killed, how many had been wounded.She asked none of it.
Instead of asking, she cooked every morning.She washed the rice, loosened the soybean paste, sliced the radish.Her hands moved as they always had, but the pace had slowed.There was less strength in the hand that held the knife.
Park Seong-jin noticed the change.And he spoke less.
At the table, only the sound of spoons remained.The sound of ladling soup.The sound of steam escaping.
"Eat more."
That was all that passed between them.It was neither an order nor comfort.It was a sentence offered to someone who was alive.
He nodded and quietly ate more.
In the village, there were looks of recognition and looks that turned away.Children peeked from afar and ran when their eyes met his.Old men cleared their gazes with coughs.
"They say he went to war.""They say he came back alive.""They say his brother didn't return."
Those words drifted over the low walls.
People were adjusting their distance, avoiding the gaze of someone who had crossed a battlefield.What he had fought for was being interpreted differently from each person's place.
Park Seong-jin paused while splitting firewood in the yard.He looked at the grain caught in the axe blade, steadied his breath, then brought it down again.
Thud.
The wood split.The sound cut off the surrounding murmurs for a moment.
His mother watched silently, then turned away.She knew his back had grown broader than before.She did not bother to measure how far that broadened back had traveled.
She sensed, vaguely, that many layers of time had been laid over the face of her young son.
In the evenings, villagers came one by one.Some brought liquor.Some brought greens.Some only showed their faces and left.
"You've been through a lot.""Are you all right?""So you'll be staying home now."
A kind of consolation.
Park Seong-jin bowed briefly.He had nothing to add.
The texture of those sentences could not be settled into one thing—whether they were questions, requests, or wariness.
At night, his mother lit a lamp in the middle of the room and spun thread or mended clothes.Under that light, she added no words.
She seemed to be waiting for something that would not come,doing through the night tasks that were in no great hurry.
Park Seong-jin did not speak either.
The silence between them gradually grew firm.It did not create distance.It held them both up.
On the third day, his mother suddenly asked,
"Are you going to the mountain?"
Though she had not spoken it aloud before, she had already read it.
Park Seong-jin lifted his head.The lamp flame wavered.
"Yes."
She nodded.
"When?"
"Soon."
She did not ask more.
She stopped her sewing, cut the thread, and quietly stood.From the backyard she brought a small bundle.Inside were dried greens, a packet of salt, and a small talisman wrapped in cloth.
"This is—"
"There was one of your brother's, too."
At those words, Park Seong-jin did not continue.
She placed the bundle in his hands and said,
"Just stay alive."
It was not a command, but a prayer.A belief that if one stayed alive, they could meet again, wherever they were.
Yes.As long as we are alive, we can still dream of a reunion in some distant future.
That night, Park Seong-jin took up the sword again.The village's gaze still held him,and his mother's silence was letting him go.
Between those two, he was setting the grain of his road.
The next morning,the village raised smoke as usual,roosters crowed,people went out to the fields.
Outwardly, it was an unchanged day.
Park Seong-jin knew.This was not a place to remain,but a place he had stepped on again in order to leave.
His steps were already turned toward the mountain.
Dawn Departure for Guwolsan — Farewell with His Mother
It was before the roosters cried.The sky lay submerged in deep blue darkness,and only at the far eastern edge did the breath of dawn begin to loosen faintly.
Park Seong-jin packed his things beside the horse.They were small bundles.
He had meant to keep it simple,but having returned from war, there were many things that turned out to be necessary.
Lacking something was not merely absence—it could create a situation where nothing could be done at all.
An extra set of clothes, dried food,and one old brush his brother had used.That was everything.
The yard of his home held the chill of night.Dew that had settled along the western wall glimmered quietly on the jujube branches.
The house was still.That stillness weighed more heavily than words of parting.
"I'll be back."
He spoke, but his mother did not answer at once.Standing at the doorway, she gazed out, her back to the growing light.
He knew what kind of heart she had endured with each conscription of his father and brother.
"You know now as well,"he continued carefully."That I'm a soldier, and without learning martial skill, it's hard to survive."
Perhaps she had long since understood that her son's path would lead to study.
"If a summons comes…please send word to Guwolsan.I'll continue my studies there."
She closed her eyes briefly.Then quietly nodded.
"All right."
Her voice was low and soft.Like the sound of rain falling onto soil,it seeped in before meaning.
"Even if you go, make sure you eat.Eating comes before studying."
He tried to smile.But the smile quickly spread into tears.
"Yes, Mother."
She touched his collar without a word.Her fingers holding the edge of his robe trembled faintly.
After steadying her breath, she spoke again.
"Coming back alive is a miracle.Don't waste that miracle."
Park Seong-jin mounted the horse.He sensed his sisters gripping the door handles behind the door, holding their breath.
Behind him, his mother's breathing lingered long in the dawn air.
She called out one last time.
"Seong-jin.If the road you're taking is study, then there will be light at its end."
He could not answer.
He knew he was neither a man of special talent nor one born with wisdom.He simply bowed his head deeply.
At that moment, the eastern sky began to brighten.
He urged the horse on, and it ran swiftly along the dirt road.Each time the hooves struck the ground, dew scattered in all directions.
The mountain ridges slowly flushed red,and birds woke and cried briefly.
After riding for a long while, he turned his head.
His mother was still standing at the doorway,arms wrapped around herself, not having moved a single step.
Park Seong-jin looked at her for a long time,then lowered his head again.
And he turned the horse's headtoward the southern sky,where Guwolsan(nine moon mountain) lay.