Chapter 2…
Yeonsu draped herself in a long, flowing hanbok over her clothes to look the part of a shaman apprentice, then sat awkwardly in the seat reserved for the child oracle.
No matter how hard she tried to act natural, she couldn’t stop the nervous tension rising inside her.
The VVIP guest who entered appeared to be a man in his early thirties.
His sharp eyes beneath thick eyebrows carried a certain severity.
The sharp bridge of his nose and defined jawline gave him an even stronger aura.
Standing nearly 190 centimeters tall, when he straightened up, his head almost grazed the low ceiling.
“Please, sit.”
Yeonsu repeated the words she’d heard Suryeon say before, carefully picking what to say next.
That was when she noticed the corner of the man’s mouth curl upward.
He definitely thought something was suspicious.
If this man was really the VVIP customer Suryeon had mentioned, then he was practically a goldmine.
She couldn’t afford to deal with him carelessly.
Having watched Suryeon work a few times, Yeonsu steeled her heart.
Since things had already come this far, she decided she would perfectly play the role of the child oracle. When the man finally sat down, she imitated Suryeon’s tone.
“Now, speak.”
Raising her chin as sternly as she could, she tossed out the words in a blunt, commanding manner—the way the child oracle usually did.
But the man’s brow immediately furrowed.
Just a moment ago she had politely asked him to sit, and now she had suddenly changed her demeanor—of course he’d be taken aback.
“And why should I? You’re the all-knowing one—shouldn’t you be the one to speak?”
His reply mixed informal and polite speech in an odd way.
There was a mocking undertone that made Yeonsu’s confidence shrink.
When Suryeon, the real oracle, threw around blunt words, customers only bowed their heads in awe. But this man was completely different.
‘Oh, whatever.’
With a desperate, resigned heart, Yeonsu blurted out the line Suryeon had taught her.
“You have marriage luck right now. Grab hold of it.”
The man let out a short, derisive laugh.
“And if I don’t?”
He had dropped all pretense of respect and was speaking entirely casually now.
“Then death will come to your family.”
Even at her frightening prophecy, the man remained calm.
“And who’s supposed to die?”
At his counter-question, sweat trickled down Yeonsu’s back.
She couldn’t recall Suryeon ever mentioning who exactly would die.
But she couldn’t admit that to a client, especially one who was a financial lifeline.
“Who else? The eldest in the family, of course.”
Improvising on the spot, she tossed out the line.
The man only sighed through his teeth in a half-laugh.
His reaction made Yeonsu clamp her mouth shut in embarrassment.
As she darted her eyes around to gauge the situation, the man suddenly stopped smirking and asked again.
“Then, can you see who the spouse is?”
An intrigued expression appeared on his face.
That was at least better than the constant sneers.
Her shrunken confidence began to swell again.
Just as she’d seen Suryeon do, Yeonsu grabbed a handful of rice grains and scattered them over the small table.
“The partner is a woman born in December, with strong water energy.”
Then, as though a reading had been revealed, she declared boldly:
“If you marry someone else, your whole family will be struck by death.”
Fully immersed in her role, Yeonsu continued scattering the rice with gusto.
“And this woman—how old is she supposed to be?”
Suddenly, Yeonsu’s mouth froze shut.
That was far too specific a question to make something up for.
“Not prepared enough to answer that much, are you?”
The man clicked his tongue and shook his head openly.
Of course. As if you were ever really gifted.
Even though he hadn’t said it, Yeonsu could almost hear his thoughts.
She couldn’t let herself be dismissed as a fraud.
“Ahem! Your devotion is lacking, lacking!”
“So, what—you can’t tell me the age unless I pay more? Fine, I’ll double it.”
The man offered without hesitation.
“It’s not about money! It’s about prayer and sincerity!”
Yeonsu shook her head vehemently, raising her voice.
“I’ll make the prayers and when it’s ready, I’ll give you word. Then you can return.”
Her plan was simple: once Suryeon was discharged from the hospital, she’d direct the man to her.
The real, truly gifted child oracle would be able to reveal the age, maybe even the face.
And when he came back, he’d bring even more money.
That way, it would benefit both Suryeon and the man.
“And how exactly do you plan to contact me?”
Instead of backing down, the man let out an open scoff.
“Hey now, the spirits themselves will guide me to you. Don’t hold irreverent thoughts.”
Yeonsu raised her voice, scolding him.
The man, who had been retorting to everything, fell silent and stared fixedly at her.
His dark gaze bore into her—or rather, into the mask she wore.
Yeonsu’s heart dropped.
Had he realized she wasn’t the real oracle?
Her lips, which had been spouting bold words just moments before, now trembled shut.
Silence settled heavily over the cramped shrine.
Finally, the man broke it, his voice cutting through.
“I’ll give you ten million won more—just write down that prophecy for me. Oh, and include your sacred signature, mighty oracle.”
Yeonsu froze at the absurd request.
This had never happened before…
What exactly was she supposed to write?
The man pulled a page from his planner, tore it out, and slid it across the table. Tapping it with a long finger, he gestured for her to write.
‘He’s offering ten million more…’
Her hesitation was short-lived.
Yeonsu grabbed a pen lying on the table and scribbled down what she had just said.
[If you do not marry a December-born woman with strong water energy, death will befall your family.]
Her handwriting was round and neat.
Unlike when spoken aloud, seeing it written down made it look less like a mystical prophecy and more like a child’s prank.
Still, thinking it was finally over, Yeonsu happily handed the paper to him.
“Don’t forget to sign it.”
But instead of taking the paper, the man gave her the command.
Yeonsu froze again.
These days, even with card payments, you rarely signed for small amounts—of course she’d never seen Suryeon’s signature.
But what was a signature compared to ten million won?
She scrawled “Child Oracle” at the bottom in a dramatic flourish.
The man picked up the paper and stood.
“Wait, hold on. The money—”
He cast her a brief glance, then turned away.
“Jeon, let’s go.”
He called to the aide waiting outside and placed his hand on the sliding door to leave.
Panicked, Yeonsu scrambled up after him.
But in her hurry, her body didn’t obey.
Her foot caught in the long hem of the oversized hanbok, and she tripped forward.
A small cry escaped her lips.
The man instinctively turned back just as Yeonsu stumbled, clutching his shoulder and burying her face into his chest.
Thump, thump—
Through the thin shirt, the sound of his heartbeat thudded in her ear.
The mixed scent of faint sweat and woody cologne clung to her nose.
Yeonsu’s heart began pounding wildly of its own accord.
“What are you doing?”
The man looked down at her, his face filled with disbelief.
Even his voice was cold and sharp.
At that moment, Yeonsu wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and hide for days.
Still, she forced herself to lift her head from his chest to get the last word out.
“You can’t just leave without paying.”
Their eyes met.
The man’s expression was…odd.
“The money will be deposited into the account as promised.”
The aide, Jeon, finally slid the door open and answered from outside, having overheard the commotion.
Luckily, Yeonsu was small and the man was tall and broad, so Jeon hadn’t seen what had just happened.
Flustered, Yeonsu quickly straightened herself.
She coughed awkwardly and turned away.
The man brushed off the spot on his suit jacket where she had touched and then strode out.
Only then did Yeonsu let out a sigh of relief.
‘That was close…’
At least she had secured the money, which meant she had fulfilled Suryeon’s request.
Yeonsu slapped her own cheeks with both hands to release the tension.
She was about to smile in triumph when her face suddenly stiffened.
The mask—the baby mask she’d been wearing—was gone.
Panicking, she glanced around and spotted it lying near the doorway.
It must have slipped off during that clumsy stumble.
“I’m doomed. Totally doomed.”
She muttered in defeat.
