"과거는 미래의 그림자다"
"The past is the shadow of the future"
- Korean proverb.
The tiny village was engulfed in an all-consuming blaze. The acrid smoke obscured his eyes, and Daehyeon could only make out vague shapes. The thatched roofs burst into flames and the walls of the huts collapsed as if the devil himself had risen to the surface, devouring one soul after another. Through the wall of fire, Daehyeon saw him, a man in armor.
Cheongnyong Janggun.
Joseon knew this demon under the title General Blue Dragon, but Daehyeon felt that to him, he was a man named Lee Changgeom.
He froze amidst all this chaos as if he was watching a performance by a traveling troupe. His armor, covered in soot, glowed red gold. A blue dragon wriggled on his forearm, exposed beneath a slipped shoulder pad, a tattoo people said had special properties.
- Seohwa... Park Seohwa... - Lee Changgeom's voice sounded distorted, inhuman, like a rusty gate creaking.
Daehyeon tried to scream but couldn't - his lungs filled with choking smoke. His hand involuntarily reached for his chest, where his heart was pounding frantically, as if it were trying to jump out. Daehyeon realized that he had been clutching a fine paintbrush tightly in his fingers the whole time.
- Such a treasure... It looks so ridiculous in the hands of someone whose hanbok is tattered," he mentally chided himself.
The charred bristles of the brush crumbled, leaving black marks on Daehyeon's palm. As if mesmerized, he continued to stare at the doorway as if the world wasn't burning around him.
- I'm sorry... Seohwa... - Changgeom stepped forward, and the armor creaked with a sound like a baby crying.
Fire soared between them, robbing Daehyeon of his last chance to escape. He felt the flames melt the hem of his robes in an instant, traveling up his legs. But he couldn't look away. Daehyeon held out a soot-stained hand to the general. Lee Changgeom's hand holding the sword trembled. The weapon slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground with a thud.
- Don't go..." Daehyeon whispered, but his voice dissolved into the crackle of burning bamboo.
The flames engulfed the hut, Lee Changgeom, and finally Daehyeon himself.
Daehyeon woke up with a shriek - he'd been crying in his sleep, clutching at the sheet with both hands. His right wrist was burning - where the charred brush had burned him in his dream, now a fresh scratch was reddening.
He sat on the edge of the bed. His fingers were digging into the mattress so hard that his knuckles were white. The air was heavy - Daehyeon had forgotten to open the window again. The smells of last night's coffee, half-eaten noodles, and the sandalwood incense he'd burned the night before mingled in the room.
Daehyeon looked tiredly toward the desk. Dozens of sketches hung on the wall - men in hanboks, palaces, dragons. The faces from the unfinished portraits looked at him reproachfully, as if waiting for a response.
He ran his hand over his face, feeling the damp droplets of sweat in his palm. The scratch on his wrist ached and throbbed, and it didn't make his mood any better.
- Again... same dream, Daehyeon thought, scrutinizing the red-brown streak. - It definitely wasn't there yesterday. Or was it? My memory is failing me too soon, too soon!
On the floor, among the crumpled sheets of sketch paper and last year's lectures, was an empty can of Maeil energy drink. Daehyeon kicked it with unwarranted violence, and it rolled under the table with a thud, hitting the glass frame. The picture of his mother fell face down. He froze. On the back was written in childish handwriting, "In the thickest shadow hides the brightest of suns." Daehyeon himself had written it, her last words before the tunnel in the Joseon-era tomb collapsed.
- I'm sorry, Omma," he apologized loudly, jumping out of bed. His knee banged painfully against the corner of the desk, but the pain seemed so distant to Daehyeon, as if it weren't his pain.
He picked up the photo frame and set it on the only bookshelf, bowing respectfully to the smiling woman in the photo. Then kicked a pile of papers in an attempt to clean up, but only scattered them even more. Daehyeon opened the window - raindrops flew into the bedroom with the wind, mixed with the smell of fried squid. A car honked somewhere downstairs. The salesman's voice shouted in a high-pitched: "Hottok! Warm hottok!"
Daehyeon leaned his forehead against the cold window pane. In the window of the candy store across the street, someone had a laptop screen burning, and for a second, Daehyeon thought he saw the outline of a blue dragon in it.
Finally sitting down at his desk, Daehyeon immediately groaned definitively.
I'm sorry, Professor Lee! - he pleaded, staring at the white emptiness of the presentation file. - I swear on my grades, this time I'll make the deadline!
Daehyeon leaned back in his chair and lazily studied the creative mess on his desk. He'd been promising himself since last semester to clean up and hang up the bookshelves, but there was always something particularly important that he couldn't spare an hour to clean up. Daehyeon looked to the left corner of the desk, and between two cans of paint, there was something that didn't belong to him.
Taking Kim Mincheol's stupid merch and forgetting about it?
It wasn't at all like the things Mincheol usually tried to sell him. A small scroll tied with a worn silk ribbon. With trembling fingers, Daehyeon unfolded it.
- 'The artist becomes a prisoner of his paintings,' the inscription on the hancha read. At the bottom was a wax seal depicting two dragons, their tails woven tightly together.
Daehyeon felt uneasy. His eyes went dark for a second, and he immediately grabbed the back of his chair, panicking as he tried to regain his breathing rhythm. Cautiously he stood up and walked to the open window. The street vendor kept calling out for customers, and the street looked completely ordinary, so Daehyeon forced himself to calm down.
He slipped the scroll into his backpack, intending to show it to Professor Lee.
- Well, it's suspicious stuff if even you can't save me from being expelled," he grumbled, trying to get his head into the neck of his sweater. - Then I'll be an unemployed loser!
Because of the nightmare and morning confusion, Daehyeon had lost track of time. He was sitting in his sweater and thinking about Lee Changgeom when a sudden phone call snapped him out of his thoughts.
- Are you late again? - Kim Mincheol asked playfully on the other end of the line. - Don't forget the presentation, we'll finish it today!
It's almost eight in the morning! You're going to be a beggar, Han Daehyeon!
Goryeo University, especially the Department of Korean History, was not forgiving of tardiness, so Daehyeon quickly got dressed and rushed to the bus stop.
The campus was quiet as classes had already started. There were no students sitting on the steps, no sounds of TikTok Dance Challenge from the phone speakers, just the whisper of the wind playing with the leaves of the trees.
- The young master from the mountain of historical dramas! - Mincheol's voice sounded from somewhere behind him.
Daehyeon turned around. His friend was perched on one of the boulders of the rock garden as if on a throne. The elegant fengshui of the garden was rudely disrupted by a pink hoodie that read "I'm my own team!". The wind fluttered an equally pink mop of hair, and a star-shaped piercing glittered in his eyebrow. In Mincheol's hands, a glass of ttokpokki smelled of sesame and pepper.
- Don't the celestials need sleep? - Mincheol shamelessly stuffed his mouth, not even offering breakfast to Daehyun out of politeness. - Were you admiring your general all night again?
- Don't talk while eating or you'll choke," Daehyeon replied coldly.
How could you forget about breakfast? The whole day was a waste...
Mincheol didn't stop:
- Let me guess: he showed up in his sexy general's armor, said something like "save my soul," and you...
- Shut up," Daehyeon shoved his friend roughly under his elbow.
The ttokpokki cup almost fell to the ground, but Mincheol deftly caught it, sighing fake sighs.
- Oh, what a drama! - He put his left hand to his heart. - The young master fell in love with a ghost, and now he's trying to kill me, his best friend! Put the hashtag #ObsessedLove to the top!
The girls behind giggled, who, judging by the time, were on their way to their second class. One of them pulled out her phone and pointed the camera at Mincheol. He immediately struck a cute pose: -Hey, subscribe to @Minchul_the_Great! Support the release of "How to Survive a Ghost Crash" next month!
Daehyeoun grabbed his sleeve, dragging him faster towards the entrance of the building.
- You have no sense of boundaries at all?
- And you clearly don't know how to create content! - Mincheol tried in vain to break free. - Imagine: a handsome guy, a past life curse, forbidden love... It's a ready-made script! We'll get rich, I'll buy a villa in Jeju-do, and you'll...
- Enough, Kim Mincheol," Daehyeon stopped abruptly, and Mincheol almost crashed into him.
A bronze bell hung above the entrance to the building, its melodious ringing always calming Daehyeon down. But today it sounded so unpleasant that it made him want to go home.
Friends were indecently late for their first class and unanimously decided to stay in the foyer until the next one.
- Look," Mincheol poked his finger roughly at a poster on the wall. - "History is a mirror of the future. Maybe your general is you from the past? Or am I? But actually, I'd rather be a princess....
Daehyeon didn't listen to him. His gaze was fixed on the shadow on the wall, moving as if it were alive despite the static lighting.
- Young Master! - Mincheol tugged at his sleeve childishly. - You look like you've seen a ghost!
The shadow disappeared.
- Let's go," Daehyeon stood up abruptly from the bench and headed toward the auditorium. - Don't you dare post anything about me.
- I swear it! - Mincheol replied with a wide smile.
He had already taken several selfies in front of the poster with the hashtag #My Friend's Past Life.
Professor Lee's auditorium resembled a museum hall where every object was part of a great history. The rays of the morning sun flooded the room with light through the tall windows, highlighting the dust swirling in the air. Professor Li Sujin stood motionless at the projector like an ancient statue. Her shadow fell on an engraving from the Joseon era, and Daehyeon immediately recognized the village from his dream.
- So, if everyone is ready to begin," Professor Lee said in a muffled voice, looking at Daehyeon, who was frozen in the doorway. - Our topic today is Karma as an integral part of history.
As Daehyeon took a few hesitant steps forward, the door swung open again with a clatter. This time it was Yoon Sohwan standing in the doorway.
Only a deaf person had not heard of Yoon Sohwan - he was not only a chaebol, but also the son of the university's chief sponsor. Yoon junior regularly clashed with other students and even faculty members, but it was the Korean History Department that hated Yoon Sohwan the most. His disgusting character was in stark contrast to his pleasant appearance. Yoon Sohwan was always dressed stylishly, and even today he was clutching a folder whose gold letters matched his gold tie.
- Sorry I'm late," he said idly, not really apologizing. Sohwan's gaze slid over Daehyeon, lingering only for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make him feel out of place.
Professor Lee raised an eyebrow questioningly, adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses: - Will you join us today, Mr. Yoon?
- No," Sohwan stepped straight toward the professor, pushing Daehyeon roughly away with his shoulder. - I'm here to give you one last warning, Professor.
He unceremoniously tossed a folder onto the table, and a sheet labeled "A Study of Karmic Connections Using General Lee Changgeom as a Case Study" slipped out.
Daehyeon swallowed. He still stood still, unable to move.
- 'I've studied everything,' Sohwan said slowly and thoughtfully, not looking at the professor. - 'You are wasting the precious resources of the university on your fantasies. Stop before it's too late, Professor Li Sujin.
Yoon Sohwan turned to the audience, lingering his gaze on Daehyeon again:
- Karma? Reincarnation? Is this what you're spending my family's money on? History is facts, not fairy tales for children.
Daehyeon took a step forward and approached the insolent man. Sohwan smelled of sandalwood and vetiver-but Daehyeon thought he could even distinguish the scent of his skin now.
- Historical facts say that you are afraid to look into the mirror of the past," his voice shook violently, but he didn't give up. - What happened in the past that you are making this circus?
- Have you invented a fairy tale for me too? - Sohwan bellowed, reducing the distance between them to a completely obscene one. - His eyes, dark and cold, flashed with fiery rage. - You dishonor Goryeo University, you.....
He stopped talking abruptly. His gaze fell on a printed portrait of Lee Changgeom lying on the desk of one of the students. The general's face was an exact replica of his face - the same sharp cheekbones, the same crevice of the eyebrows. Even the scar above his eye was in the same place. Yoon Sohwan always hid his scar under a layer of foundation.
Sohwan took a step back and almost lost his balance. Immediately, he grabbed the edge of the table and squeezed it with his fingers until his knuckles turned white. Daehyeon suddenly felt out of control and reached out, trying to touch Sohwan's hand. He suddenly saw something that looked like a dream in front of him.
Lee Changgeom, wearing his armor and full ammunition, was sitting on the floor next to Han Daehyeon, who was wearing only his undergarment stained with paint. He gently ran his hand over Daehyeon's cheek, and the latter gladly returned the caress, kissing Changgeom on the back of his palm.
- 'Seohwa,' the general whispered through a smile. - 'You paint me so beautiful... Like a mountain god.
Han Daehyeon, or rather someone very much like him, replied:
- I paint you as if I love you, Changgeom.
The bell rang.
- The lecture is over," Professor Lee announced loudly. - Let's thank our experts, Professor Yoon Sohwan and Professor Han Daehyeon, for this sea of knowledge they have spilled right before our eyes.
Sohwan left the auditorium first without raising his eyes to Seohwa. Daehyeon's gaze, which had been fixed on Changgeom's hand all this time, studied the jade ring-just like the general's from the dream.