Big Life

Chapter 280: Is This An Internal Strife (4)

The iron smell of blood in the air filled the forlorn surroundings. Yeob Dae-Bong huddled in the corner of the warehouse located under the tavern was gasping for air. He had one hand keeping pressure on his shoulders where blood was flooding out; it seemed like he was on the verge of blacking out from fear.

“P-pillar of Pungdo[1]?!” Yeob Dae-Bong’s eyes flipped as he dodged. “W-who are you?! How did you… The Pole of Pungdo… has completely disappeared from the face of this world with the Seo Family!”

“…They must have disappeared in this world.” The shabby young man covered in straws approached with a cold reply. His face was bloody with wounds all over, yet he was laughing with gleaming eyes.

“Y-you… you’re the one I met before at the canal fortress…!”

“Let me fill you in with what happened that day.” The young man lifted his left hand, with his palm facing the sky, and a dazzling seemingly golden light shone from it, unlike his transparent right hand.

“T-that’s…!”

“If we are to combine the two pillars that are revered by the world…” The young man gathered his hands together before his eyes. Then, an energy incomprehensible to humans exploded from him.

Yeob Dae-Bong shielded his face with both arms and tumbled backward.

“Pillar of the Dragon King Pungdo—the second hidden mystery of the Yonghwangkwon.”

“Ugh! Please… Please let me off…” Yeob Dae-Bong kneeled, grasping the situation. “Please give me a chance. I’ll make sure to hold a grand funeral and give away my entire fortune! Can you please give me the chance to save your friend’s dignity?!”

The young man crouched down before Yeob Dae-Bong.

Pulling out an old box made of silk, the young man muttered, “I got this from an old-fashioned debauchee. He said it’s for the price of perseverance.”

“Ugggh, please…!”

“The debauchee said that whenever you can’t control your anger, you would open this box and pull out a swallow, tearing it apart. Then you’d be able to recover your composure. Of course, it’s all nonsense….” The young man opened the box and threw it on the ground. Dozens of swallows poured out onto Yeob Dae-Bong’s lap.

“The anger in me didn’t disappear no matter how much I tore up. I’ve torn up over a hundred of them while on the way here, but it still didn’t go away…” Tears welled in the young man's eyes as he muttered, “I’m so, so, so angry. The foolish punk had sacrificed himself when I didn't even ask him to keep me alive, and the old-fashioned debauchee didn't tell me of his blindness, but he still accepted me as a student…!”

The young man grabbed a handful of the swallows from the ground and shook his fist in Yeob Dae-Bong’s face then growled, “Will you understand my anger if you count them?”

“Please… please forgive me this once…”

“I counted them repeatedly, but it was always endless. Then I was reminded of that old-fashioned debauchee again. He loved the unbelievable, saying that those with motives and variables that direct people according to the times are unique. He even said that trash like me also had the potential to grow as well…”

“Cough!”

The young man reached out and grabbed Yeob Dae-Bong by the neck. “I can't send you to the Dragon King of Pungdo so easily, otherwise where would that foolish punk’s dignity go?”

“K-keughhh…!” Yeob Dae-Bong’s eyes rolled back. He wanted to speak, but his voice wouldn't come out. He could feel himself standing at death's door. He should have died but couldn't. As both of their emotions intertwined, Yeob Dae-Bong flailed with all his remaining strength.

“Cut! Cut!” the director roared.

The staff and managers rushed to the scene; among them was Woo Tae-Bong as well as Park Do-Joon’s stylist.

“Great job, Park Do-Joon. You acted really well. It gave me goosebumps,” Woo Tae-Bong said as he grabbed Park Do-Joon’s shoulders from behind.

Park Do-Joon turned around, and his eyes widened. He hadn't stepped out of his character, Jin Cheon-Wi.

“D-Do-Joon, are you alright?”

“...” Park Do-Joon refused Woo Tae-Bong’s help and stood up on his own.

The actor taking the role of Yeob Dae-Bong was still lying motionless. It was hell working with Park Do-Joon day in and day out; he could even feel Park Do-Joon's murderous look on himself during their breaks.

“Aigoo, this is tiring. Regardless of how immersed you are in the character, I should have rejected firmly even if you had asked for understanding in advance…”

Park Do-Joon was so immersed in his character that the production crew and Chinese actors were all talking about it.

Even if the director had given the green light, Park Do-Joon would ask to redo the scene if he wasn't satisfied with it. Park Do-Joon didn't seem exhausted despite filming the same scene countless times.

“Mr. Do-Joon, the scene today is great. It's perfect. There's no way we can go beyond this. It's amazing.” The director turned pale immediately as soon as he spotted Park Do-Joon's approach.

It was their third time filming the current scene. Thankfully, Park Do-Joon did not ask for more and willingly took a step back.

“Thank you for the hard work.” Park Do-Joon bowed to the director and the remaining production crew, then returned to his van.

The van drove away from the filming site, heading to the hotel. Park Do-Joon then spent the entire night practicing with the script. He didn't waste a single minute ever since filming for Records of the Modern Master had started. He even found his girlfriend, Lee Chae-Rin’s, calls annoying that he refused to answer them.

“Park Do-Joon, you should at least have lunch.”

“I don’t have the appetite. You can go ahead,” Park Do-Joon replied, reading the script in the back seat. Woo Tae-Bong wanted to say something else, but he couldn’t bring himself to bring it up and signaled at the road manager instead.

Soon, the van was rolling on the road.

‘I have to go all out…!’ Park Do-Joon resolved as his focus remained fixated on the script. The pressure he had created on his own was overwhelming—to the point where he'd feel suffocated a few times every day. Whenever that happened, his best friend’s smiling face would appear in his mind.

‘I can’t disappoint him… I-I must do better… I must become Jin Cheon-Wi…!’ The moment he crumpled the script in his hand, his phone in the seat next to him rang. He wouldn’t have answered it if he hadn’t seen the name on the caller ID.

“...Hello.”

— You don’t sound good. Were you sleeping?

Ha Jae-Gun asked, sounding worried.

Park Do-Joon leaned back and let out a sigh. He had answered the phone, but he didn’t feel happy to hear Ha Jae-Gun's voice. Right now, his priority was grasping Jin Cheon-Wi’s emotions.

“I’m on the way back to the accommodation.”

— I see. How did today’s filming go? I heard from Tae-Bong hyung that you’re left with the last scene…

“Jae-Gun.”

— Yeah?

“I’m sorry, but why did you call?”

— Ah… Right. Things must be hectic for you now. I’m sorry for calling you at this time. I just suddenly thought of you…

Ha Jae-Gun quickly understood Park Do-Joon’s words and immediately apologized.

Park Do-Joon regretted it the moment he said it, but he couldn’t take them back.

— But Do-Joon, I still want to tell you this.

“What is it?”

— I'm just a writer, so I don't know what exactly an actor has to do, but I know that you have amazing acting skills. I’m not saying this just as a friend; I mean it.

“...”

— And Do-Joon doesn’t have to become Jin Cheon-Wi. It’s the other way around. I hope that’s what you’ll do.

Park Do-Joon put his phone a short distance away, secretly letting out a sigh. He felt apologetic to Ha Jae-Gun, but Ha Jae-Gun’s words only sounded like meaningless consolation to him at the moment.

A while later, Ha Jae-Gun continued with a determined tone of voice.

— I just hope that you’ll know the fact that Jin Cheon-Wi was a character born into that world thanks to you.

“I got it.”

— I’m sorry for taking too much of your time. It’s good to work hard, but take care of your health, too. See you when you’re back in Korea, then.

“Yeah, see you later.”

As soon as he hung up the phone, Park Do-Joon threw his phone aside and returned his attention back to the script. Woo Tae-Bong secretly glanced at him, inwardly commenting that Park Do-Joon was truly a tough guy, before shaking his head.

On that evening, Park Do-Joon stood in front of the full-length mirror, practicing on his own.

“Long time no see.” Park Do-Joon repeated this line over a hundred times today. Even Woo Tae-Bong heard it too many times that it had long become his lullaby, putting him to sleep.

“I came here wanting to see the larger world, and that’s why I put the owner of Donghwangru and Yonghwangkwon’s last hidden mystery aside.”

Park Do-Joon bit his lips, unable to continue with his practice further. His expression distorted, as his intonation was just okay. He suppressed the urge to smash the mirror into pieces before him and took a deep breath.

“Hmm…?”

His eyes then clapped on the calendar hanging on the wall, finally recalling that today was the death anniversary of his late brother. He had totally forgotten about it because of the movie.

“Ah, my god…!” Park Do-Joon picked up his phone. He had been keeping tabs on his late brother’s death anniversary all this while—he had never missed it no matter how busy his schedule was, but he had completely forgotten about it this year.

— Hello? Oppa?

“Chae-Rin, I had totally forgotten about it—”

Scarily enough, Chae-Rin understood what he was referring to and cut him off.

— I was wondering when you’d ask about it. I thought I’d be affecting you since you’re so busy with the movie now. I’m sorry, oppa. My schedule got delayed, and I rushed over to Byeokje as soon as I ended, but I couldn’t get to see him as I still missed the time to pay respect.

“I see…” Park Do-Joon replied with a sigh mixed in it before nodding. He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten his one and only family member. He seemed to be more on edge such that the sense of shame overwhelmed him in no time. If he hadn’t seen the calendar, he might not have recalled the date at all.

— But it’s still fortunate.

“Fortunate?”

Chae-Rin hesitated for a moment.

— Um, Jae-Gun oppa…

“What about him?”

— He said not to tell you. Actually, Jae-Gun oppa went in the morning and paid respects…

“What…?!”

Park Do-Joon jumped up reflexively. “You told him?”

— No, he thought of it first and called to ask me if it was your late brother’s death anniversary… And said he’d go in your stead…

“...!” Park Do-Joon’s jaws dropped; he was at a loss for words. He then recalled the conversation he had earlier with Ha Jae-Gun. Had Ha Jae-Gun called him after paying respects to his older brother at the charnel house? If that were the case, then Park Do-Joon had no business hanging up so coldly.

"I just hope that you’ll know the fact that Jin Cheon-Wi was a character born into that world thanks to you."

Ha Jae-Gun’s words rang once again in his ears. Park Do-Joon covered his face with one hand and then he plopped onto the sofa. He trembled as his breath grew hotter. He had to call Ha Jae-Gun, but he was too ashamed to do so.

— Oppa…? Are you…crying now?

“Shut up.”

The night fell deeper. Lee Chae-Rin patiently listened to her beloved man sniffling over the phone.

***

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Ha.”

“Don’t say that and dig in. It's not going to be that delicious anymore once it's cold.”

Ha Jae-Gun and the Assistant Secretary for the Ministry of Culture picked up their spoons and ate their ox bone soup. They were at the restaurant that Ha Jae-Gun frequented when he was still an unknown writer. He still loved visiting this restaurant that provided affordable and huge portions of food.

“Thank you for answering the phone, Mr. Ha.” The assistant secretary started cautiously. Ha Jae-Gun hadn’t been answering calls from people related to government agencies or from the political world, even though there had been countless requests for his support from the political world ever since he was awarded the Prix Goncourt. This was also why Ha Jae-Gun was put in a difficult spot. The only person’s phone call he would take was the assistant secretary's calls, whom Ha Jae-Gun believed to be on the same page as him.

“Actually… it’s been noisy because of The Breath.”

“I thought so,” Ha Jae-Gun replied after he finished chewing his food. The reason for the assistant secretary arranging this meeting was obvious.

Is The Breath ending with Part 2?

Will there be Part 3?

Could you continue writing Part 3, or 4 for the sake of the nation’s interest?

The assistant secretary was here to convey these questions from the Ministry of Culture to Ha Jae-Gun.

“Putting it simply, The Breath Part 2 is currently half completed, but we have yet to decide if we’ll have the ending in Part 3 or just end it in Part 2 altogether.”

“I see…”

“On top of that, even if I composite the story such that I can continue with Part 3, it’s not my current priority as well.”

“Priority? Are you possibly working on another novel?”

“I’m still entertaining some thoughts for the time being. I’m not yet at the stage of compositing. I can’t tell you anything more.”

After the meal, Ha Jae-Gun sent the assistant secretary off, and then he walked along the shoulder of the unpaved road with his hands in his pockets. He hadn't lied to the assistant secretary, as he was indeed cooking up another work.

Thinking back, it started the last time he saw the elderly man in a custom-made hanbok. Since then, the elderly man had been occupying Ha Jae-Gun’s mind all day.

As the days passed by, the vague burden grew slowly and became heavier.

How much time had passed since he started walking down the street? Ha Jae-Gun soon arrived at Seo Gun-Woo's grave. He greeted and squatted down, letting out a long sigh.

“Can I write about it?”

The cold spring breeze passed between Ha Jae-Gun and the grave. Ha Jae-Gun looked down at the ground and opened his bag. He pulled out a newly bundled manuscript and muttered, “The blank space that you've left behind… Can I fill it in?”

1. I needed more context to give a proper translation of this… But there wasn’t much explanation ☜