Chương 46: S.04 Memory of the Clock 08(06)

Scene 12. Even aboard Gyeong-seo's car, Yeon-su's lower jaw was knocking against her upper without pause. Thrusting both hands toward the heater vents that were exhaling hot air, she rubbed at them, moving desperately to thaw her hands somehow. Watching Yeon-su's fly-like flailing, Gyeong-seo pulled a deep scowl. Gyeong-seo: Yah. I did not sleep, I cannot deal. You are distracting me. Could you sit still. Yeon-su: Aoh, what am I supposed to do about the cold. Turn it up more, the heater!

Gyeong-seo twitched her lips and yanked the heater temperature down on purpose. In an instant, a chill breeze out of season came pouring from the heater. Yeon-su: Aoh!! Seriously!! Mun Gyeong-seo!! Scene 13. Dressed in 소복(Sobok_White mourning garments), Ji-young lay sprawled on the cushioned mat, limbs thrown wide, deep in a snore. Lost in a sleep so profound she was unaware that saliva was running down her long hair, she could not rouse herself to answer when Hee-jin's voice called from outside the door.

Hee-jin's own undereyes were blackened, showing without disguise the shadows of someone who had not slept. Dressed in the white 법복(Beop-bok_Ceremonial rite garb), Hee-jin hesitated as she sent her voice through. Hee-jin: Th — The Oldest. The Oldest? The Oldest. Hee-jin's plaintive voice carried in, but Ji-young, snoring away inside, knew nothing of it. Unable to go on watching, Chae-rim lowered herself from beneath the eaves, came to stand on the veranda, and approached Hee-jin, who was stranded helpless.

Chae-rim: Um, er. Strategist. Wearing a troubled look, Hee-jin shot Chae-rim a piercing glance, pleading for help. Chae-rim: I. I have woken the Former The Oldest before, so I know — Hee-jin: I did not think sleep habits would carry down like this, too. Chae-rim: Most likely, even if you go in yourself and shake her, she will not wake. Thankfully, I know from the fact that she is snoring that she is unharmed, but even so, she would not notice if someone carried her off on their back.

Hee-jin creased her brow lightly, nodded, and carefully opened the door. Chae-rim slipped back beneath the eaves to return to her own post. Stepping inside, Hee-jin took in a Ji-young who had planted a foot on top of the low writing table in rude fashion and was sleeping in some uncanny sprawl of limbs, so spread out that one could not tell where to even begin waking her. There was no way Ji-young would sense the careful approach of Hee-jin's presence.

When Ji-young let out a thundering snore that crested to the point of seeming to choke on her own breath, Hee-jin, unwilling to miss the window, hurried to shake Ji-young's knee and sent her voice. Hee-jin: The Oldest. Ji-young: Ah, mom, keeps calling you. Get up, would you. Hee-jin: Um. Um. Kang Ji-young, The Oldest. Only then catching on that it was her own name being called, Ji-young stopped her snoring, snapped her body upright, and sat up. Ji-young: Omeh. Ah. Right, that is it. Aigoo.

The saliva that had leaked from her mouth had reached even the long strands of her hair. Realizing belatedly who she was, Ji-young hurried to rise, her gaze blank as she scanned her surroundings. Scratching fiercely at her long hair, she pulled a tissue from near the dressing table and dabbed down roughly at the saliva that had run into her hair and over her shoulder. Ji-young: I am sorry. Truly, today is on the level of my first day. Her voice was still half thick with sleep.

Voice heavy, eyes she could not quite open, Ji-young knit her face against the blinding midday light. Turning her eyes this way and that with whitened, squinted lids, finally fixing their focus, she was able to look up at Hee-jin at last. Taking in the Ceremonial rite garb that Hee-jin had put on, Ji-young fumbled and dragged her body out from under the cushioned mat.

Upon the warm lower-floor stones, unable to settle her frame, caught between sitting and lying, she picked her own Ceremonial rite garb up from beside her. Ji-young: Ah, SSi. Which goes on first. Hee-jin: Shall I have lunch brought in. It is not too late. Ji-young let out a full stretch and shook her head. Ji-young: Just tell me what goes on first. I keep forgetting even after I am told. Hee-jin: Before that, um. Your hair, there is still, um.

Ji-young, half-awake, drew out another tissue and scrubbed hard at the saliva that had stuck all the way to her shoulder. Even in the middle of that vigorous scrubbing, her eyes would still not open properly. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Ji-young: Mother was not like this, right? Without a single moment's hesitation, Hee-jin shook her head. Hee-jin: Just the same. Ji-young: Ah. Really? Is that so. So, what do I put on first? Scene 14.

Ji-young walked to the canteen and took her place in line. Over the white Ceremonial rite garb she wore a thick 한복(Hanbok_Korean traditional attire) Traditional outer coat as an overlay. Hands jammed into the pockets of the Traditional outer coat, whistling as she joined the bustling canteen for the first time, all those who had been eating their meals turned in unison to look at Ji-young's party.

As Ji-young was now, for the first time, able to eat at roughly the same hour as the rest of the staff, the Head Chef of The Kitchens—who had been tending to the staff in the canteen—came flying out. Hye-ju: The Oldest, you have come — Ji-young: What are you doing? Hye-ju: I beg your pardon?? Ji-young: Why did you come out?? Hye-ju: Because The Oldest came — Behind Ji-young, Hee-jin and I-seon had moved in to attend her. Upon those two, Ji-young levied a rueful scolding.

Ji-young: Now, you two, what do you think you are doing. At Ji-young's air, Hee-jin and I-seon, hesitant, could not settle their position and began to move forward, at which point Ji-young tugged roughly on both their sleeves. Ji-young: Who told you to cut in line?? Go to the back. The back. Hah. Really. This is the problem with the top-ranking sort. They have never had to line up. No, and besides. The Kitchens is gone now anyway, so go about your business.

Are you going to come out and greet me every time I come to eat? I might as well get indigestion in the middle of my meal. Hurry. Go on in. Hurry. At Ji-young's scolding, the Headquarters staff, having only now become certain of Ji-young's identity, greeted her and scrambled to clear themselves from the canteen. Hye-ju, too, who had come up to Ji-young, hurried back into the canteen. Raising her voice a touch for the staff who had tried to step aside when they saw her, Ji-young spoke on. Ji-young: No. Listen.

Just — eat what you were eating and get on with whatever you were doing. Did you all just see a ghost?? At Ji-young's voice, every staff member moving to vacate halted at once. Ji-young: Sitting down and being served, I will do when I feel like being lazy. Just. Do not carry on like someone out of the old books. Let us just live, would you.

And, having done sixteen years of school and five years of work life, obviously I am more at ease with the line at a company cafeteria, so quit making a fuss and just eat your meals. Right?? No, Strategist, why do you keep standing up here. Go on down there and line up with the Acting. No cutting. The voice rising loud enough to ring through the canteen carried a pouting undertone.

Even at the light scolding Ji-young drove in, no one took back the movement of stepping away, and so Ji-young raised her voice again at them all. Ji-young: Oh!! Come on!! I said just eat your meal!! With those words, the canteen transformed in an instant back to what it had been before Ji-young had entered. Ordinary chatter flowed, and without any conspicuous deference to Ji-young's presence each person carried on with their own meal. Ji-young kept glancing at the line, which was steadily getting shorter.

Tray and chopsticks in hand, she waited for the approaching serving. Setting the tray onto the counter with a practiced hand, the serving staff, looking at Ji-young's tray set there, could only trade uncertain glances, unable to settle what to do. Ji-young met the serving staff's eyes squarely. Ji-young: So, you are going to stay like that? Canteen Staff_01: Ah, um. That is. Uh. Ji-young: Do not tell me you were caught preparing a separate dish for me. Just hurry up and give me what is there. I have no time.

I am hungry. I am annoyed. Ah, quickly~! Before I just go right ahead and serve myself! Unable to handle Ji-young's petulant demand, they heaped the food onto Ji-young's tray just as it was. With a satisfied look, Ji-young carried her side dishes and rice over to a table where a group of staff were sitting. A staff member who had been chatting comfortably choked and spat out the soup she had been sipping.

She scrambled to vacate her seat and stood up, but at Ji-young's "what on earth" look, she froze in a pose caught halfway between standing and sitting. Ji-young: What department are you with? Treasury Staff 01: Tr — the Treasury Budget Execution Section, Jeong Do-yeon. Ji-young: Do-yeon. Finish your meal. Do not exclude me now. Treasury Staff 01: Yes. Yes. After a slow, stiff motion from the uncomfortable stance, the Treasury staff member sat back down.

Taking in the tray that still had a long way to go before being finished, Ji-young sat down first, at which point Hee-jin set down a bowl of meat she had loaded up high onto Ji-young's side of the table. Ji-young: Why are you putting this on my side. Hee-jin: I am on a diet. I-seon: Fat can only be shed through exercise. Ji-young: This — perhaps, are you saying that for me to hear. I-seon shook her head hard. With a vacant look, Ji-young shifted the dish she had been pushed to her side to a neutral middle ground.

Evidently not pleased with the placement, she relocated the bowl of meat—which had been set among only Hee-jin, Ji-young, and I-seon—to a position where the staff seated in the neighboring chairs could also reach it. A Treasury staff member carefully offered a question. Treasury Staff 02: Um, The Oldest. Are you all right? Ji-young: Yes? The Treasury staff member who had spoken to Ji-young first kicked the foot of the one who had asked after her welfare.

She was trying to signal not to make free with speech, but Ji-young rebuked that very restraint. Ji-young: No, come on, they may have something they want to ask, why are you signalling. At Ji-young's scolding, the one reprimanded could not make any reply, nor refute, nor admit, and fell into a fluster. Ji-young shoveled rice into her mouth and carried the conversation on. Ji-young: By the way, what did you mean by "all right"?

Treasury Staff 02: That you are eating like this — in case someone intends you harm, we cannot know. Still. Ji-young: Eh, come on. As if someone slipped poison in the rice. Hardly. It is not the old dynasty. The worst of it would be a dose of laxative. And they said only Gyeong-seo need worry over that. At Ji-young's breezy remark, the staff nodded as if recalling something. Treasury Staff 01: Then, if it would not be out of line, may I ask one thing. Ji-young: Yes.

Ji-young, who had been eating diligently with her spoon, had her mouth full of rice; she carried her reply through the food tumbling in her mouth. Ji-young: What is it? Treasury Staff 01: When. Would a new Director be chosen for us.

The documents The Oldest tidied up this morning were truly without a fault to pick, but The Oldest cannot keep reviewing them, and now, with the dues payments from the associations of shamans nationwide coming in, along with the income reports and the national taxes we have to pay, it is the season. To get the documents approved — um. Ji-young: Ah. That makes sense. I am sorry. At the soonest, this week? They should be appointed within that, I think. The end-of-year tax settlement will be busy.

The Treasury especially. For now, bring anything unclear or any urgent settlement documents directly to me. If I am within the grounds, I will approve it on the spot. As if it were no matter, she answered while chewing loudly. Unable to read Ji-young's intent, the two staff briefly lost their words and grabbed and ate the meat from the bowl Ji-young had shoved aside. Ji-young did not mind. So it went—small matters passing back and forth over the meal. There was gossip about someone, there was praise for another.

By some point, Hee-jin, having finished her meal, patted her belly and made to rise. Ji-young gave her a chiding look. Ji-young: What are you doing? Hee-jin: Yes? Ji-young: You are not about to pat your belly now and say you are full after all of that, are you? On that scant a plate? As Hee-jin left her tray and hurried to rise and escape, Ji-young, wearing an incredulous look, stretched her long arm out and snatched Hee-jin by the cuff. Ji-young: Tray. Tray.

Is the tray going to be cleared by, what, one of our ancestors?? Coming back over under watchful eyes, Hee-jin, abashed, took up her tray and, reading the space to find where the dishes were returned, left her seat. By and by, the bowl of meat and Ji-young's tray had been cleaned out. When the two staff left a short greeting and departed, Ji-young, as though in search of her next prey, glanced about. Just then, three people came into view, not long seated after receiving their trays.

Ji-young, apple and yogurt dessert in hand, set her tray down at the return counter and slipped her hand into the pocket of the modernized Traditional outer coat. As if she had spotted her prey, she made to carry her step toward those three, when, glancing at Hee-jin and I-seon standing at the doorway waiting for her, Ji-young, now with a bite of apple in her mouth, took her grumbling steps back. Ji-young: Do not just stand there like lumps waiting, go mix in and chat with someone. I will be a while.

Or go do your own business. Ji-young left her short directive and went back to chewing the apple. Watching Ji-young move to another table, turning the apple in her mouth, I-seon and Hee-jin briefly traded glances. Hee-jin moved first, heading to an open spot elsewhere, and I-seon, unwilling to simply stand waiting, turned her own steps to yet another table.