DRP 12

chapter 12

The family had now decided that no one outside could know I was a Haetae.

Then, who counted as “outside people”?

According to them, anyone from my cousins onward would be considered outsiders.

Too strict, you say? I didn’t make the rules. The grandmothers had whispered over tea and decided it this way.

In practice, everyone who knew my secret—aside from the shaman, Aunt Hye-seo—was within three degrees of kin.

First degree: Mom and Dad.
Second degree: Grandmother, maternal grandmother, and maternal grandfather.
Third degree: Uncle Baek, Aunt Baek, Aunt, and Uncle.

That was it.

To increase that circle, either the aunts and uncles would have to marry and bring in spouses, or Mom and Dad would have to have another child.

Noticing this, Grandmother spoke:

“If you get married, I will impose a restriction on your spouse.”

“I’ll live as a single.”

“Then let’s see about that.”

Even with the aunt’s serious declaration, Grandmother’s reaction was indifferent—as if saying, Go ahead, try it.

Her cold gaze shifted to my uncle.

“And you?”

“If Dohyang gets married, I’ll find a match too.”

“You sure know how to beat around the bush, don’t you?”

“At least I’m not insisting on being single. If Dohyang goes, I’ll go too. Really.”

On my uncle’s face was the unshakable belief that my aunt would never actually marry. The look seemed to say: Who would even want her?

But my aunt felt the same.

“Even if I go, you can’t go.”

“How could I not go if you’re going?”

“What if I bring a spouse who’s handsome, young, and perfect like Father?”

“Bring them first. Then we’ll talk.”

“….”

A strong mix of disgust and stubborn laughter passed between them.

The atmosphere was tense, but according to my memories from my previous life, this was just a typical conversation between family registry “mates.”

The restriction would last three years.

Apparently, the law allowed a maximum of three years to prevent abuse by the state. Aunt Hye-seo said that even if they wanted to extend it, they couldn’t.

The reason? They didn’t have enough of my hair, which was essential for the spell.

If they had tried to extend it, I would have ended up a hairless, naked little pup.

Later, I learned why my maternal grandfather had lain down while imposing the restriction.

Normally, a restriction is easier to enforce if some part of the subject’s body is sacrificed. My grandfather didn’t want even a single strand of his granddaughter’s hair harmed, so he bore the cost himself and fell ill.

Hearing this, Mom pressed her hand to her forehead.

Once she had finished her duties, Aunt Hye-seo prepared to leave immediately.

“Leaving at this late hour?”

“If I delay any longer, I might not make it back home.”

“Couldn’t you stay at the foot of the mountain and come up in spring?”

Uncle Baek suggested she stay longer, but Aunt Hye-seo shook her head.

“If I do that, the government will know somehow and ask me to do this and that.”

Such was the life of a highly skilled government-recognized shaman.

Carrying the lunch Mom had prepared, Aunt Hye-seo left in a hurry, leaving a promise to renew the restriction after three years.

For reference, my aunt and uncle said they would return immediately too.

“You can stay longer if you want.”

“If we do that, we’ll… die…”

Once again, Uncle Baek tried to dissuade them, but my aunt and uncle’s expressions turned dark.

“Big brother. We will definitely, absolutely, leave early tomorrow.”

“Exactly. Big brother. If you want to save us, don’t stop us, okay? I beg you.”

I found out the reason for their panic the next day.

It was Chuseok, the grand holiday.

At the family gathering, relatives swarmed to mark their presence.

“Dohyang, are you seeing anyone?”

“We have no prejudice. I hope it’s not that you’re hiding someone because they’re a Myo tribe member?”

“Marriage is a serious matter in life…”

“What about Dohwan? Does he have someone?”

The older relatives were circling, chanting “marriage, marriage, marriage!” around my aunt and uncle.

I, clinging tightly to Dad’s clothes, was horrified. What is this?!

Dad chuckled lightly.

“I know that pain all too well.”

Here, people married relatively early.

Perhaps that’s why, from the age of eighteen, they were constantly asked when they would marry. Dad himself was so pressured before marriage that he used work trips as an excuse not to go home.

Dad sighed, saying that Snow Mountain had risen, and by fate, he met Mom there.

“They won’t make it till evening—they’ll run away.”

Dad’s prediction came true: by noon, my aunt and uncle had dashed out of the house. They were so desperate that they even transformed into dogs and ran like the wind.

Apparently, no matter the world, being scolded by relatives during holidays is universal.

I clicked my tongue in exasperation.

After the crowded Chuseok passed, November came. Winter quietly approached the now quiet Hyun household.

“Come here.”

“Woof.”

As the weather grew colder, Mom and Dad’s fur became thick and scattered everywhere.

The shedding season had officially arrived.

Mom and Dad had to clean three times a day and brush their fur constantly.

“Seems like it’s worse than last year…”

“Woof!”

Mom and Dad, ever cooperative, brushed each other’s fur. But it took forever—their true forms were so big that grooming was a lengthy task.

Compared to them, I was just a handful, so it was easy.

Fluff. A few strands flew as I shook myself on the floor. Not bad, I thought.

After the grooming battle, Mom, Dad, and I retreated to a warm room, partly due to the cold but mostly for studying.

The writing here was in Chinese characters.

Having learned them in my previous life, they weren’t unfamiliar.

At first, I aimed to get through the easy parts and focus on the harder characters…

“Shall we try this book, little one?”

“Woong.”

I could memorize it quickly.

Within a week, I could read thin books alone.

Not just because I was young, but because my brain was exceptional. So Haetae really was smart.

I vaguely remembered the times in school when I used to tear my hair out in the study room. Strange how that memory stuck while my face, name, or family didn’t.

“Phew.”

I sighed, and Mom and Dad looked at me. I shook my head, signaling nothing was wrong, and returned to the book.

Reading was fun.

It was especially useful for learning basic knowledge of this world.

Being a non-verbal baby until now had been frustrating, and all that pent-up curiosity now had an outlet—I bounced in excitement.

“Ha ha, our little one, happy?”

“Woong!”

Of course.

After finishing a thin book, I giggled. This book was enjoyable too. A simple children’s story, but with clear morals—good versus evil. I liked that.

Humming, I reached for the next book.

I was now 11 months old. Pulling a thin book off the shelf was easy.

Unlike my previous life, these books were stored flat, so I could easily pull out books from the bottom shelf—where Mom and Dad piled most thin books.

Shall I read one more?

I hummed as I pulled. But, wait—the thickest one at the bottom came out in my hands.

A thick book like a textbook existed here too.

The cover was expensive-looking leather, reinforced to prevent damage.

I placed it upright. Let’s see… title: Baekgwa Sajun?

“Encyclopedia!”

I lifted the encyclopedia and cheered.

I had found the perfect book for my thirst for knowledge!

I shook it excitedly—but Mom and Dad looked horrified.

“Hye, Hyeon-ah.”

“Hands! Hands!”

Mom stammered, and Dad took the encyclopedia from me.