MOSC 24

It took longer than expected, but eventually the dining table was served.

In the meantime, On had to share an unwanted session of lovemaking with Wigyeom one more time.

‘I give up now.’

In the end, On completely surrendered the sovereignty of her body to Sim Wigyeom.

She could not live otherwise.

On glared at the man who was rubbing his sweat-soaked temple against her own cheeks, then, exhausted, let her body go limp and felt his body temperature against hers.

‘Is this person really eating me instead of three meals a day….’

Come to think of it, she realized she had never seen the man in front of her eat a meal.

…And On’s guess was correct.

Half-human, half-yokai basically did not need food. To them, human food was something they ate merely for camouflage. However, they too were capable of consuming the vital energy that manifested from human souls.

To be precise, they could only continue to live by taking in the energy that manifested from human emotions.

This was another special condition, separate from the ‘punishment of reincarnation’ he possessed, which allowed him to escape the pain of extreme lust only by satisfying On.

Of course, taking this energy did not mean that On’s life force was being drained. If that were the case, Wigyeom would have already practiced abstinence, even if it meant cutting off his own member with a fodder chopper.

Wigyeom could maintain his yokai form simply by evoking any kind of emotion from On. Moreover, On was not the only one from whom Wigyeom could receive energy. Any human would do.

Joy, sadness, desire, hope, horror, fear, any emotion a human felt was converted into energy that sustained Wigyeom’s yokai form.

…And the emotion Wigyeom most preferred was On’s pleasure.

In other words, Wigyeom was feasting on On every day, three meals a day, with a full stomach and a warm back.

There was a reason why Wigyeom’s complexion was growing shinier and shinier while On was drying up.

‘If we do it one more time, I might really die from sexual overexertion.’

On thought, held in Wigyeom’s arms.

She seemed to recall a time, back in her days as a young palace maid, when she had needed human warmth, like a child seeking its mother’s embrace.

She seemed to recall a time when she thought she could sell her soul if only someone would hold her lonely self tight.

But On looked at the man who clung to her stickily and thought.

‘I take that thought back.’

Too much of anything was poison.

On seriously regretted her lonely past.

The maid who brought the dining table was an old woman called Kkeutbun’s mother.

The maid spat out.

“Eat.”

On remembered the old maid who had let her into the humble, three-room thatched house of the Sim family at the very beginning.

‘She does not seem to recognize me. It is a good thing I was covering my face then.’

On felt a sense of relief.

But the ordeal did not end there.

On looked down at the dining table set before her.

‘Wh-What is this….’

The meal was so magnificent that her eyes widened.

On the round wooden table, brass bowls with a subtle sheen were neatly arranged.

In the center was a bowl of sticky, glossy white rice, and to its right, a bowl of rich, savory soup was steaming warmly. The braised lotus root glistened with a honey-colored sheen, and the seasoned eggplant gave off a faint aroma of perilla oil.

But the highlight of the meal, above all, was the beef, carefully grilled on a rack. The meat sparkled with a soy sauce marinade, and the raw vegetables seasoned with red pepper paste were more than enough to whet one’s appetite.

And for dessert, there were even sweet persimmons, thinly sliced red persimmons marinated in honey. Her mouth watered at the sight of the special delicacy, which looked like it would melt in her mouth.

She had never received such a meal, even while living in the palace.

However, On was not happy at all.

It was because of the reaction of Kkeutbun’s mother, who had brought this meal.

“Uh, um… Is it really true that the master ordered a 12-dish meal?”

For some reason, Kkeutbun’s mother’s face was restless, as if she had seen a ghost in broad daylight.

“Y-Young master, are you not feeling well? Why did you order so many side dishes? Did money suddenly fall from the sky?”

As if the sun had risen in the west, Kkeutbun’s mother, despite having prepared the 12-dish meal with her own hands, kept looking at Wigyeom as if she could not believe it.

As if to ask if he was sick somewhere.

“W-Why have you become so generous? Is there not a ghost attached to your body, master?”

Finally, she worried that a ghost might be attached to Wigyeom’s body.

Then, Kkeutbun’s mother’s resentful gaze briefly turned to On.

“Hmph. If you have royal blood mixed in, can you not just eat plain rice? I suppose someone who was in the palace would not care about the financial situation of a poor family like ours.”

Her tone implied that this situation had occurred because of On.

On flinched, feeling guilty even though it was not her fault.

Of course, the specter who had caused this situation, Wigyeom, put an end to Kkeutbun’s mother’s doubts with a single sharp remark.

“…Ahem. Why are you suddenly acting like this when we have always eaten this way.”

At those words, Kkeutbun’s mother’s jaw dropped.

‘Gaettong, that gentleman, what on earth is he talking about?’

‘…I do not know either. If I knew, I would be at a shaman’s ritual, not here. And I have changed my name to Gyesaeng. Please call me by that name.’

Thus began the exchange of glances between the confidants.

‘Goodness, Gaettong. Is that not the man who always said that even a drop of soy sauce on his rice was a feast?’

‘…That is correct. The very same gentleman who used to live for three days on a single strip of salted, dried radish.’

‘The gentleman who used to say that half a piece of kimchi with a spoonful of rice was enough for him is having a feast of side dishes today, why has such a thing happened?’

‘I am telling you, if I knew that, I would have already bought a tile-roofed house by telling people’s fortunes. And it is Gyesaeng, not Gaettong. How many times do I have to say it.’

Thus, the two servants of the Sim family concluded that this whole mess was because of the young mistress.

‘It is a show.’

‘It is a bluff.’

‘He wants to look good for Her Highness the Princess.’

‘He is completely bewitched by that princess.’

That the young master of the Sim family was so completely bewitched by Her Highness the Princess that he was on the verge of grinding up not just his liver and gallbladder, but also his bones and flesh, to offer to her.

A rumor that was not entirely wrong(?) was scheduled to spread throughout the town in less than an instant.

Meanwhile, On was having a hard time of her own.

The feast was a feast she had never received before, but the man in front of her was a sight to behold.

“Now, ah. Say ah.”

Wigyeom was urging On on, holding a spoon right in front of her eyes.

Telling her to open her mouth.

On did not need a 12-dish meal. She would be grateful if he would just leave so she could eat alone.

But Wigyeom was making a fuss about feeding her, as if On were a quadriplegic with no hands or feet.

“Wife, hurry. Ahh.”

If it had been the usual On, she would have closed her eyes and eaten it.

A handsome man and a feast.

There was no reason for On to refuse the two things she was weakest to in the world.

However, the gazes of the two confidants toward them were too intense.

As soon as On turned her head, Gyesaeng and Kkeutbun’s mother were looking at them, their jaws on the verge of dropping as if they had a malocclusion.

Especially Kkeutbun’s mother’s expression was full of disbelief and dissatisfaction.

On felt like a hole was going to be bored into her face by that glare.

‘He is possessed by a ghost. And a very strong one at that.’

‘Did I not tell you? I am currently searching for a famous shaman all over the country.’

‘You are going through a lot.’

At this point, there was something seriously wrong with Wigyeom’s usual behavior.

On glanced at Wigyeom, who was placing a piece of glossy, grilled beef on her spoon.

The man, whose eyes met hers, smiled sweetly.

At that moment, On, without realizing it, forgot that she was being watched by the servants and thought blankly.

That he was handsome even in that situation.

‘There is no such thing as a talent that pierces the heavens or a divinely inspired art….’

That very appearance was the talent, the art.

Of course, she had to quickly bring her wandering mind back.

This was not the time to be having such thoughts.

She once again chanted a prayer.

‘Sariputra, form is not different from emptiness, emptiness is not different from form, form is emptiness, emptiness is form….’

It was a moment when the power of Buddhism was needed more than ever.

On, who had barely regained her senses thanks to the grace of the Bodhisattva, asked Wigyeom.

“Um…. Why are you only…. Not eating?”

At that, the man chuckled and replied.

“I am fine. I have already eaten my fill for three days and nights.”

I have overeaten.

At Wigyeom’s jest, On’s face turned not just red, but hot.

This gentleman was saying anything in front of the servants.

On, glancing around, still said a word.

“Still, it is too much to eat alone….”

“What are you worried about? Just pick and eat what you like, and leave the rest. I will take care of it then.”

Then, before On could be surprised, a choking cough was heard from behind.

The young master said it was okay to leave food…!

Gyesaeng was patting the back of Kkeutbun’s mother, who had choked.

‘You must have been very surprised. I was too.’

‘Hurry and call a shaman. That is no ordinary ghost.’

‘I am searching for one.’

‘You are having a hard time.’

Thus, today too, Wigyeom’s specter was threatened with exorcism.

Kkeutbun’s mother’s reaction was only natural.

Wigyeom was a unique tyrant who continued the long line of misers in the Sim family, one who would be sad to be second in the lineage.

The track record he had shown the family so far was spectacular.

“Ahem. To throw away this cold rice, you could just add water and eat it. The main beam of the house will collapse because of you.”

“Kkeutbun’s mother. Where did the leftover anchovy heads in the kitchen go? If you boil them again, it will be a rich broth.”

“Who spilled this salt on the soy sauce crock platform? This cannot be left as it is. If you scrape it all up and use it again, there will be no problem for next year’s kimchi-making.”

“Many a little makes a mickle. A hundred drops of candle wax will make one candle. Scrape it all up.”

…This was the kind of gentleman he had been.