Chapter 4

Chapter 4
## Chapter 4: Returning Home (1)

The afternoon sun beat down with a relentless intensity, as if intent on baking the very soil into brick.

Across the open fields, two travelers approached a towering zelkova tree that dominated the landscape with its ancient, regal presence. Its central trunk possessed such a massive girth that it would take a small group of adults joining hands to fully span its circumference, and its branches reached upward for at least ten zhang.

“The Guardian Spirit.”

Sima Geon looked upon the great tree, his expression softened by deep-seated memories.

In this region, the locals revered the tree at the village perimeter by that title, conducting sacred rites beneath its boughs every year and treating it as a holy site. To the neighborhood youngsters, however, the Guardian Spirit was the ultimate sanctuary for games. He recalled countless days spent dragging his younger siblings to this spot, losing themselves in play under the vast canopy.

“Good grief! Look at the size of that thing—it’s monstrous!”

Cheol Woo gaped at the sky-piercing timber, unable to contain his astonishment. While zelkova trees were a common sight in rural villages, he had never encountered a specimen of such staggering proportions.

“That is exactly why it is revered as the Guardian Spirit.”

“Ah, so this is it? The one you mentioned during our travels, Captain?”

Cheol Woo circled the base with newfound appreciation, seeking confirmation.

“The very one.”

A genuine smile broke across Sima Geon’s face as he walked toward a group of children gathered in the shade. Seeing the two strangers approach, the children froze, their eyes darting with suspicion.

“Peace, little ones. We mean you no harm.”

Sima Geon spoke with a gentle cadence, but the tension didn’t fade. The problem lay with Cheol Woo, who followed close behind; with his rugged frame and stern features, he looked every bit the hardened outlaw.

Noticing the children retreating, Sima Geon let out a small chuckle.

“He looks like a brigand, I know, but he’s harmless. Just a bit of a clumsy bear when he’s grumpy.”

The mention of a “bear” made the children’s eyes go wide as they reassessed Cheol Woo—only for them to look twice as terrified as before.

Realizing his attempt at humor had backfired, Sima Geon lowered his voice to its most soothing pitch.

“You all live in Peach Blossom Village, don’t you?”

“How do you know our home?”

The eldest boy among them stepped forward, still keeping a cautious distance.

“I know it well. This tree is the pride of Peach Blossom Village. I spent my own childhood running around these parts.”

“Oh!”

The children’s fear began to thaw slightly. The fact that this man knew their village name and recognized the sacred status of the tree earned him a shred of credibility. Sensing the opening, Sima Geon pressed for information.

“Tell me, is there still a small pond located to the north of the houses?”

“There is.”

“And just to the left of that water, is there a small hut with a thatched roof? It might be a bit worn down by now.”

“That’s right, it’s there.”

The boy nodded quickly, his curiosity piqued.

“That is my family home.”

“Truly?”

One of the younger boys gasped, his eyes rounding in shock.

“Truly.”

However, a young girl who had been hiding behind the leader’s sleeve spoke up, her voice sharp and accusing.

“He’s a storyteller. He’s lying.”

“Lying? What makes you say that, little one?”

“That house belongs to Grandma Ado. And Grandma Ado doesn’t have a father or a big brother living there.”

“Maybe he’s an uncle,” the older boy whispered, nudging her. But she shook her head stubbornly.

“I’ve never heard of any uncle. He’s a fake. Let’s get out of here.”

She shot Sima Geon a final, piercing look of distrust before yanking on the boy’s arm. Spooked by her certainty, the entire group of children turned on their heels and bolted toward the village.

Sima Geon didn’t try to call them back. Instead, a heavy, cold feeling settled in his chest. If his childhood home was now known as “Grandma Ado’s house,” it suggested his own kin might no longer reside within its walls.

A moment later, he began walking toward the village, following the path the children had taken.

“Man! This is incredible. So sweet… I finally understand the name Peach Blossom Village, Captain.”

Cheol Woo spat a pit into the dirt and immediately reached for another piece of fruit. The village was true to its namesake; rows of peach trees lined the outskirts, their branches sagging under the weight of sun-ripened fruit.

Cheol Woo polished a fresh peach against his tunic and offered it.

“Have one, Captain. It’s perfect.”

“I have no appetite.”

“Ah, right. My apologies.”

Noticing the grim set of Sima Geon’s jaw, Cheol Woo pulled his hand back sheepishly. However, the temptation was too great; he waited a moment before taking another quiet, succulent bite.

“Mmm…”

As Cheol Woo enjoyed the juice, Sima Geon’s pace turned into a near-run.

When he finally reached the edge of the pond, Sima Geon stopped to catch his breath. He slowly turned his gaze toward the familiar site.

There it stood: a weathered, humble thatched hut.

The very structure that had haunted his dreams for over a decade.

*It hasn’t changed at all.*

A bittersweet smile touched his mouth. Seeing the physical reality of his home, exactly as he remembered it, brought a brief flash of relief.

“Is this the spot?”

Cheol Woo asked, wiping peach juice from his chin.

“This is it.”

Sima Geon didn’t hesitate. He began walking toward the front gate, but before he could reach it, a gruff, commanding voice echoed from behind him.

“Hold it right there! Who are you?”

Sima Geon stopped and turned around.

A man of middle age stood there, his eyes narrowed with hostility. Behind him, a crowd of villagers was rapidly forming, their numbers growing past a dozen in seconds. Sima Geon spotted the little girl from earlier clutching the man’s clothing; she had clearly rallied the adults with tales of suspicious men.

“This is the residence of Grandma Ado. State your business.”

The man’s tone was sharp. The only reason he hadn’t attacked yet was likely Cheol Woo’s intimidating physical presence and the fact that the big man was currently preoccupied with a peach.

“Please, there’s a misunderstanding. I’m here because…”

Sima Geon stopped mid-sentence, squinting as he studied the man’s features.

“Uncle… Jang?”

The man, Jang Lok, blinked, his aggressive stance faltering at the familiar address.

“You’re from the headman’s house, aren’t you? Uncle Jang?”

“I… I am. But how do you know me…?”

As Jang Lok responded with uncertainty, Sima Geon stepped forward and took the man’s hands in his own.

“Uncle, it’s me! It’s Sima Geon. I grew up right here.”

Jang Lok tried to pull back, looking uncomfortable and confused.

“Sima… Geon? I don’t—”

Suddenly, a memory seemed to click into place. His eyes widened until they were nearly the size of tea saucers.

“Sima Geon? The little boy from years ago?”

“Yes! It’s really me, Uncle.”

“This can’t be!”

Sima Geon reached up and brushed the hair away from his temple, exposing it to Jang Lok’s stunned face.

“Good heavens!”

Jang Lok let out a sharp breath, his hand flying to his mouth as he looked at the lightning-shaped scar etched into the man’s skin.

“Do you believe me now?”

Sima Geon’s voice trembled with emotion.

“That mark… from when young Uk hit you with that stone…”

“That’s the one. The little brat couldn’t beat me in a fair fight, so he threw a rock when I wasn’t looking.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened! So you truly are the boy who joined the escort caravan twelve years ago and never returned?”

Jang Lok’s voice was a frantic mix of shock and pure joy.

“I was working for the Eunseong Escort Agency. You tried to stop me from going, telling me it was a dangerous life for a boy.”

Jang Lok let out a cry and pulled Sima Geon into a bone-crushing embrace.

“You little devil! Where on earth have you been? What happened to you all these years?”

Sima Geon found he couldn’t speak. He simply held onto the older man, leaning into the familiar scent of his home.

The sudden shift in the scene left everyone else stunned. Jang Lok’s daughter, Jang Min—who had been prepared to drive the “intruder” away—stood frozen, while the rest of the villagers looked on in utter bewilderment.

“Is that really Geon?”

Another man, roughly the same age as Jang Lok, stepped forward with a shaking voice.

Sima Geon released Jang Lok and looked at the newcomer, nodding emphatically.

“It is. You’ve grown some grey hair, Uncle.”

“You actually remember me?”

Wang Gae asked, his eyes beginning to shimmer with tears.

“I could never forget any of you. I’ve carried the memory of every stone and every blade of grass in this village with me everywhere.”

Sima Geon’s own eyes were wet as he looked at the faces of his neighbors and then back at the small house.

“And Little Hyeong?” Sima Geon asked, his voice tightening.

“Ah, him. Four or five years back, I think.”

Jang Lok looked thoughtful, but Wang Gae corrected him immediately.

“Four or five? No, it’s been exactly six years this season.”

“Is that so? Goodness, the years are slipping by.”

Jang Lok gave a sad, hollow chuckle.

“When you disappeared, your family nearly lost their minds with grief. It was agonizing to witness. But they never stopped believing you’d walk through that gate again.”

“If they were waiting for me, why did they go to the capital?”

Sima Geon’s heart raced with a growing sense of dread. For a family so rooted in their home to leave, the catalyst must have been dire.

“The youngest child became terribly ill.”

“The youngest… are you talking about Jin-ah?”

The image flashed in his mind: his baby sister, the girl with the bouncing braids who followed him like a shadow when she was only four years old.

“Yes. She was the picture of health, but after she turned eight, a sickness took hold. She just started fading away, losing her strength day by day. Your mother and the rest of us tried everything, but no one could name the shadow over her. We took her to every healer in the province, but they all just shook their heads.”

“So they went to the capital in search of a cure.”

“That was the plan. They hoped the famous physicians in the city would know what to do. But those city doctors and their medicines cost a fortune. The debt started piling up instantly. Your mother sold the family ox, then eventually the house itself. They sold every scrap of value they owned, but even that wasn’t enough. Here in the country, farming only fills the belly—it doesn’t fill a coin purse.”

As Wang Gae spoke, Sima Geon felt a physical ache in his chest, imagining the years of suffering his family had endured in his absence.

Seeing the agony on his face, the villagers looked at him with profound sympathy.

After a long moment, Sima Geon wiped his eyes and offered a shaky but determined smile.

“It’s alright. I’m back now, and I’ll make things right. Don’t worry about us. I will save Jin-ah, no matter the cost. If it takes ten thousand pieces of gold, I’ll find them and I’ll find a cure. And I will spend the rest of my life making up for the years I was gone. My mother… she raised us alone through so much pain. I’ll ensure her remaining years are filled with more comfort than anyone else in the world.”

He spoke the words like a sacred vow, more to himself than to the crowd.

“Geon-ah.”

Jang Lok’s voice was low, heavy with a weight that stopped Sima Geon’s breath.

The young man’s heart plummeted. The look on Jang Lok’s face was no longer one of pity—it was one of deep, solemn grief.

“What is it? Is there more I haven’t heard?”

Sima Geon tried to keep his voice light, desperately trying to fend off the looming darkness.

“……”

Jang Lok stared at the ground, his lips trembling. Sima Geon stepped forward and gripped the man’s arm.

“Uncle, talk to me! You’re terrifying me.”

“The thing is…”

“Tell me! What happened?”

Sima Geon’s face was a mask of desperation.

“Your mother…”

As those two words hung in the air, the strength left Sima Geon’s body. His hand slipped from Jang Lok’s arm, falling uselessly to his side.

That night, in the small room Jang Lok had prepared for him, Sima Geon collapsed. He wept until his voice failed, eventually vomiting blood onto the floor as his world shattered.