RMTR 02

Chapter 2

“You…!”

Yu’s composed face twisted in anger.

“Enough, Yu. I know you followed our eldest brother well, but you are over there, and I am here.”

The height difference between Yu’s gaze as he knelt on the dirt floor and the man in the dragon robe standing on the wooden floorboards seemed to speak volumes about their situation.

“No matter what you say, the situation won’t change.”

Yu bit his lip hard.

He had tried to drive out his young nephew and seize the throne from his brother, but he had been caught beforehand.

Before he could even properly carry out his plan, his brother was now using the most absurd justification to banish him from Hanyang.

‘Is he sparing my life out of familial love, or is it just an unavoidable choice because he hasn’t been on the throne long?’

Either way, it worked out well for Yu. As long as he was alive, there was hope.

‘There are those who share my cause. I hope at least they can remain in the capital.’

The man in the dragon robe met his younger brother’s unyielding gaze and spoke heavily.

“The king now… is me.”

Having said this, the man gestured, and Yu was immediately dragged away. He set off on the road to exile.

His destination was Saknyeong.

‘My brother would have wanted to send me farther away.’

Saknyeong was close enough to return to Hanyang quickly. If he had his way, he surely would have exiled Yu to Samsu or Gap Mountain, from where return was nearly impossible.

‘How did it come to this?’

Yu closed his eyes inside the cart. His second brother, who was quite a bit older than him, had been busy carrying out their late father’s orders, so Yu hadn’t seen him often, but he had thought he was a remarkable man.

He remembered that his eldest and second brothers had gotten along quite well.

‘He was skilled in both letters and martial arts, and he didn’t bow to injustice. Yet now he threatens his own nephew.’

His handsome face, haggard from the past few days of hardship, stared blankly into the void.

— Deong gideok kung deoreoreoreo kung gideok kung deoreoreoreo —

Less than a day after departing for Saknyeong, the sound of a janggu (hourglass-shaped drum) came from somewhere.

“Hm?”

Yu looked around hurriedly, but all he saw were thick trees.

Thinking he might have misheard, he relaxed and leaned his back against the bars of the cart.

— Deong gideok kung deoreoreoreo kung gideok kung deoreoreoreo —

“I say, don’t you hear a janggu rhythm somewhere?”

“What do you mean, sir?”

The military officer accompanying him as both guard and escort stared at Yu with a look of concern.

“Listen carefully. The rhythm is so clear, how can you not hear it?”

Yu sat up straighter, and a frown creased the officer’s brow. The road they were on led through a quiet mountain with no houses in sight.

— Teotdaegam Bokdaegam Sangsandaegam Geumseongdaegam, attend to the ritual! —
Namteoju Namdaegam-yo, Yeoteoju Yeodaegam-yo, vine-dae-gam, forest-dae-gam…

“Can’t you hear the singing as well? And just now, they called out to me as ‘Geumseongdaegam’! You truly don’t hear this—”

“—Your Highness the Grand Prince!”

Following the officer’s gaze, which tried to calm his flustered words, Yu’s pupils dilated. The perfectly normal mountain was collapsing before his eyes.

“A landslide! Get out of the way!”

The startled horses and soldiers fled their posts. Yu, left alone, stared blankly at the mound of earth rushing toward him.

‘Ah, Your Majesty.’

The last thing he remembered was the pale face of his young nephew. Then he lost consciousness.

At that same time, approximately 570 years later, in Seoul.

“Where should I go to see the Geumseongdangje?”

“You need to go around the back.”

Yoo Eun smiled and pointed the way with her hand.

“Choose an auspicious day and hour, honor the celestial spirits, greet the ten thousand ancestors and the spring, honor the great officials as well, and please accept this devotion!”

As if hurried by the sound of drums, flutes, and singing coming from somewhere, the visitor quickly thanked Yoo Eun and moved on. The small space was crowded with people.

Today was one of only two days a year when Geumseongdang was packed with visitors—the day of the spring Geumseongdangje ritual.

Geumseongdang, which had nearly disappeared due to regional development, was designated a National Folk Cultural Property and thus preserved. It now operates as a museum.

The Geumseongdangje was a ceremony to honor and hold a gut (shamanic ritual) for Grand Prince Geumseong.

“Yoo Eun, please make sure the visitors lack nothing. I’ll be over there, having a word with the people from the Cultural Heritage Administration.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like this is my first time this year.”

Yoo Eun grinned at the museum director, who had just finished the ancestral rites and was still wearing hanbok. The director nodded and headed toward the group from the Cultural Heritage Administration and the district office.

In the center of the L-shaped building, the event was in full swing.

The sound of drums and flutes could be heard even over the tile roofs. Cheered by the lively voices, Yoo Eun called out energetically.

“Brochures are right here!”

Someone tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

“Hello, I’m Kang Su-jin, cultural broadcaster for KBD. Are you the curator of Geumseongdang?”

“Yes, hello.”

So the broadcaster had sent someone as well.

“Could I possibly request an interview? I’m curious about Geumseongdang and the Geumseongdangje.”

“Of course.”

Yoo Eun gladly accepted. She was nervous about an interview, but if it meant this small, humble place could get even a little more attention, it was well worth it.

“First, could you explain what Geumseongdang is?”

“The deity enshrined at Geumseongdang is Grand Prince Geumseong, the sixth son of King Sejong the Great. As his title ‘Grand Prince’ suggests, he was born to Queen Soheon.”

“Oh, a son of King Sejong, yet an unfamiliar name. I consider myself knowledgeable about history as a cultural broadcaster, so I’m a bit embarrassed.”

“Not at all. Even I didn’t know his name before I started working here.”

The broadcaster and Yoo Eun laughed together.

“I’ve also heard the paintings inside the building are quite valuable.”

“Yes. The hanging paintings are called musindo (shamanic deity paintings), and they were recognized as cultural properties a few years ago. Some of them are at the National Museum of Korea.”

Yoo Eun’s dark eyes sparkled as she explained.

“The gut is currently in progress, so it’s hard to get close, but the figure in the very center is Grand Prince Geumseong.”

“Ah, I saw him briefly earlier. He looked like a benevolent grandfather.”

As if she had been expecting this topic, Yoo Eun inwardly cheered and put on a deliberately solemn expression.

“Actually, Grand Prince Geumseong died young, at the age of thirty-two.”

“Oh my, really?”

Seeing the surprised broadcaster, Yoo Eun composed herself.

“Yes. He is the only one among King Sejong’s sons who attempted to restore King Danjong to the throne. He was discovered plotting treason in his place of exile and met his end.”

“What a tragic figure.”

“Indeed.”

The interview proceeded engagingly and soon ended with the broadcaster’s thanks.

“Phew, this is harder than working all day.”

Nervousness had made her sweat; Yoo Eun fanned herself with her hand.

“Maybe I should go see how it’s going.”

The gut performed by renowned intangible cultural properties holders was a spectacle in itself.

“There are even more people now.”

Geumseongdang itself wasn’t very large. The prepared chairs were already full, and spectators stood densely packed in the back.

Glancing briefly toward the director, Yoo Eun slipped through the crowd.

“Come on, pick one.”

As luck would have it, they were at the stage of drawing a flag fortune. The shaman in front of Yoo Eun rolled up five colored flags and held out the handle ends.

“This one.”

Her small hand chose one without hesitation. The shaman skillfully unfurled the large flags, and the crowd cheered.

“It’s red! Lucky you!”

“Good things will happen soon.”

The mansin (shaman) smiled, gathered the flags, and spoke to the next person. Yoo Eun stepped aside and watched the ritual ground.

‘More people than last year, and a broadcast interview. And I drew a good flag fortune, too.’

Among the five colors—blue, white, yellow, light green, and red—red was the most auspicious.

“Hey, Yoo Eun. I got yellow.”

Another curator, Ha-gyeong, approached and greeted her.

“Oh, senior.”

Ha-gyeong was Yoo Eun’s senior from university and had been working at the Geumseongdang Museum for quite a long time.

“Yellow is a good color too. Maybe the ancestors are helping you out.”

“Haha, actually, my wife is pregnant.”

Amid the cheerful sound of instruments, this重磅 news made Yoo Eun’s eyes widen uncontrollably. Ha-gyeong, as if embarrassed, fiddled with his glasses.

“How can you say something so huge so casually?”

“Well, no need to say it with so much gravity.”

Seeing her good-natured senior shrug, Yoo Eun made a deflating sound.

“I couldn’t mention it earlier because we heard there was a risk of miscarriage. Only a few days ago did we hear she’s in the stable phase. And today, since the ancestors are helping, I thought I’d say something.”

“Sigh… You surprised me. Congratulations, senior.”

“Thanks. Come visit my wife later.”

Another cheer erupted as someone else drew an auspicious color. Soon, the shaman approached the lavishly set table. She began to chant a muga (shamanic song) in time with the rhythm.

“Teotdaegam, Bokdaegam, Sangsandaegam, Geumseongdaegam, attend to the ritual!”

Occasionally, villagers joined in, and the atmosphere grew even more lively.

“Hey, eolssa! Yat-ho!”

“Well done!”

“I’ll go take a quick look around.”

Yoo Eun said she would check for any problems. Ha-gyeong nodded, fiddling with his glasses.

“I’ll keep an eye on this side. Besides, those people have performed in gut before.”

He said calmly, looking at the shaman and musicians performing.

The event was past its midpoint. Yoo Eun slowly left the central yard and headed toward the exhibition hall.

“That area over there is for food. The director is still talking.”

The museum director, also a prominent scholar in academia, was popular and surrounded by people.

If she caught his eye, she’d have to awkwardly greet the guests, so Yoo Eun slipped past like any other visitor to the Geumseongdangje.

She turned the corner and passed by the exhibition hall displaying artifacts the director had painstakingly collected, when—

Crash! Bang!

Startled by the loud noise, Yoo Eun stepped back.

‘I can’t let this ruin the day!’

Sensing that something was in the exhibition hall, she hurried inside. Fortunately, the hall was in the quietest part of the museum, and there was no one around.

The exhibition hall was divided into three sections. Yoo Eun looked through each one and then stepped briskly over the threshold of the last, raised section.

“Was it a cat this time? Kitty, where are you?”

Worried that whatever had made the noise might panic and run wild, Yoo Eun used the gentlest voice she could muster.

“If it’s not a cat, is it a dog? Woof woof!”

“Ugh…”

She quickly turned her head at the sound of a groan and hastily covered her mouth.

A dust-covered garment hem had entered her field of vision