NTH 12

“The guy in the corner?”

“I only noticed there was someone there after Mr. Cheon pointed at him, but, ugh… It was so gruesome that even though I hadn’t eaten anything, I almost threw up.”

Still visibly shaken by the memory, Nana grimaced and continued with difficulty.

“The guy was passed out, and around him, on the floor, there were about five or six teeth that had been forcibly pulled out and two bloody finger stubs just lying there like trash.”

“Huh.”

“Seeing that, how could I possibly refuse? I immediately caved and said I’d do whatever Mr. Cheon told me to.”

“Yeah. You didn’t have much choice.”

“Honestly, until now, I thought Mr. Cheon was some kind of demon temporarily disguised as a human, and that’s why he could recognize my face.”

Nana fell silent for a moment, fidgeting with the empty parfait cup in his hands.

“But you recognized me too, didn’t you? And you don’t seem like a demon, so now I don’t know what to think. Oh! Maybe you’re an angel? Like, sent down to fight Mr. Cheon or something!”

“…Sorry to disappoint, but definitely not.”

“Then do you believe me? Everything I’ve told you so far, do you believe it all?”

Nana looked straight into Jeha’s eyes as he asked. Meeting his earnest gaze without flinching, Jeha answered without hesitation.

“Yeah. I believe you.”

There was no trace of falsehood in his words.

For Jeha, it wasn’t Nana’s existence or the stories he told that seemed unreliable—it was the dreams Jeha had every time he met Nana that he found harder to trust.

*

That night, Jeha dreamed of a past life once again.

He couldn’t recall the exact era, but it was certainly more than a hundred years after the time he had met Soondeok and Gudoli. In the dream, Jeha was still a young, unmarried man, living a life of luxury as a nobleman from a prominent yangban family.

In that life, Jeha’s name was Kim Haegyeom.

Haegyeom was on his way to visit a renowned shoemaker to order a pair of leather shoes for himself and a pair of children’s shoes as a birthday gift for his nephew.

“Master, I could go alone. Why would you bother setting foot in such a lowly place yourself?” his loyal servant urged, trying to dissuade him.

At that time, though shoemakers were commoners, they were treated as the lowest of the low, alongside butchers, so most yangban nobles avoided even going near their neighborhoods. Shoemakers had to bow deeply even to passing commoners and were often beaten or unfairly berated for no reason. As a result, they rarely left their designated residential areas.

“It’s fine. But is this ‘Doyaji’ really that skilled at making shoes?” Haegyeom asked.

His servant replied, “Yes. They say the shoes are not only beautiful to look at but are also tailored to the wearer’s foot shape, making them very comfortable and durable. I’ve heard that all the prominent families these days commission their shoes from him.”

As they entered the shabby village, the air itself felt different. Since it was almost unheard of for a yangban dressed in silk robes and a gat hat to appear in such a place, everyone they passed was startled and hurriedly bowed low.

“Here we are,” the servant said.

The place, surrounded by a wicker fence, was so dilapidated it was almost embarrassing to call it a house. Haegyeom couldn’t fathom why the home of a supposedly skilled craftsman, sought after by many, was so wretchedly poor.

Seeing Haegyeom’s puzzled expression, the quick-witted servant whispered, “They say Doyaji squanders all his earnings on alcohol and gambling.”

A craftsman steeped in drink and gambling didn’t exactly inspire confidence, and Haegyeom furrowed his brow slightly as he stepped into the courtyard.

In the center of the courtyard was a single platform, on which a slender man sat, hammering away at something with a wooden mallet. Despite the approaching winter chill, the man was dressed in thin clothing and barefoot. His exposed hands, feet, and cheeks were red and swollen from the cold wind.

The servant called out loudly, “Hey! Is this Doyaji’s workshop?”

The man, sitting less than ten steps away, didn’t even acknowledge the servant’s words and kept hammering.

Visibly offended, the servant shouted, “You! Ignoring a guest when they’re speaking to you? How utterly rude!”

Still, the man remained focused on his work. As Haegyeom and the servant exchanged confused glances, an elderly man rushed out from behind the thatched house and bowed deeply before them.

“Oh, sir, please forgive us! This one has been deaf since birth and can’t hear a thing, so I beg your mercy.”

The man on the platform only noticed their presence when he saw the elderly man, setting down his hammer and standing to bow alongside him. Haegyeom spoke in a gentle tone.

“It’s alright. Raise your heads.”

But only the elderly man looked up. Haegyeom had foolishly given a verbal command to someone who was deaf.

The servant cleared his throat pointedly, and the elderly man nudged the younger man, gesturing for him to straighten up. Only then did the man raise his head, looking at Haegyeom with frightened eyes.

“What brings a noble gentleman to such a humble place…?” the elderly man stammered nervously.

Meanwhile, the young man rolled his large, dark eyes, staring at Haegyeom with unabashed curiosity.

The servant asked the elderly man, “Are you the one called ‘Doyaji’?”

The elderly man quickly waved his hands. “Oh, no, sir. I’m not a shoemaker, just a handyman who does odd jobs.”

“Then, what, is this guy Doyaji?” the servant asked, pointing at the young man.

The elderly man hesitated, then shook his head with a wistful expression. “No, sir. This one’s called ‘Meokmeoki’ because he’s deaf.”

“He can’t hear, fine, but can he not speak either?” Haegyeom asked, growing curious.

The elderly man nodded silently. “Yes. Since he was born unable to hear, he’s never learned to speak because he couldn’t hear others.”

“That must be frustrating. If neither of you is Doyaji, then who is?”

“Doyaji is out on an errand at the moment. Are you here to commission shoes?”

“Yes.”

“Then would it be alright if Meokmeoki here helps measure your feet?”

“Him? If he can’t hear, how can he do the job?”

“He may not hear, but he’s skilled at his work. If it’s alright with you, sir, please have a seat here. I don’t have much to offer, but I’ll fetch a bowl of cool water.”

The elderly man led Haegyeom to the wide platform in the courtyard before disappearing behind the thatched house.

At one end of the wooden platform, Meokmeoki’s tools were scattered about: scissors, a small hammer, an awl, a metal ruler, and a branding iron. All were worn and bore the marks of heavy use. It seemed he had been hammering to smooth and soften the leather’s texture.

As Haegyeom sat on the platform and removed his shoes, Meokmeoki washed his hands at the edge of the courtyard and approached with a measuring tape. Kneeling, he pointed at Haegyeom’s feet and moved his lips.

“Is he telling me to take these off too?” Haegyeom asked, gesturing to his socks and mimicking removing them.

Meokmeoki shook his head vigorously and made a kneading motion with his hands. Haegyeom touched his own feet and asked, “Like this?”

When Meokmeoki nodded, Haegyeom gently took the man’s hands and placed them on his feet, signaling permission. The servant let out a startled gasp but Haegyeom paid no mind.

Meokmeoki’s hands, which Haegyeom briefly held, were small and rough. Calluses were embedded not only on his palms but between his fingers, unmistakably the hands of a shoemaker.

With careful movements, Meokmeoki measured Haegyeom’s feet, then felt the toes and the entire foot over the socks. His expression was intensely focused.

After a moment, he looked up at Haegyeom’s face and moved his lips, as if he wanted to say something. Haegyeom and the servant were at a loss for what to do when the elderly man returned, carrying a small tray with two bowls of water.

As if on cue, Meokmeoki called the elderly man over and drew something on the ground with a stick. He stood, gestured animatedly, mimicked walking, and tapped his calf. The elderly man, watching, responded as if he could hear Meokmeoki’s voice.

“Yes, yes, is that so? Oh, I see, alright.”

“What’s he saying?” Haegyeom urged.

The elderly man glanced cautiously before speaking carefully. “Meokmeoki says your feet are a bit different from others’.”

“My feet? How so?”

“He says, perhaps because you’re tall, your feet are large, and the ball of your foot is wider than most. Also, your second toe is much longer than your big toe.”

“That’s true. To figure that out just by feeling over my socks—his hands must be very sensitive.”

“But more than that, the part of the foot that’s usually arched upward—yours is much flatter than most people’s. He says for feet like that, the sole needs to be shaped specially to be comfortable. Otherwise, even a short walk can tire your feet and cause pain in your calves.”