Chapter 3
The man who had just cracked a grim joke mimicked Onju by placing his hands on his waist and straightening his shoulders. Straightening the back he had been bending to meet Onju’s eye level, his already large frame looked even bigger and sturdier.
He slowly walked backward so Onju could take in his full figure, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his eyes.
“Look at what I’m wearing and carrying. I’m the son of a wealthy family—so rich that no one would even blink if a few of these jewels disappeared.”
What a boast.
A mocking retort rose to the tip of Onju’s tongue, but she swallowed it and simply gave him a more scornful look.
“Don’t I look like a rich kid at a glance?”
“I’ve heard that lazy wastrels waste their days wandering about under the guise of travel. Can’t say they all dress like you, but your getup’s not far off.”
“It’s kind of insulting to be lumped in with them, considering my actual status.”
Receiving Onju’s clearly disapproving gaze, the man just smiled.
“Let’s just say I can scoop up three times the value of these jewels from a well, like water. To give you the five times I promised, I’d need to work a bit harder—but it’s doable.”
“…Really?”
“I swear it’s true. So please, accept these jewels without any guilt.”
He returned to her side and packed the pile of jewels into a pouch, pressing it firmly into her small hand before she could react.
“Mm…”
Though Onju shook her head, saying this wasn’t right, she couldn’t bring herself to let go of the pouch.
While she was distracted by the jewels, the man shot a sharp, dangerous glance past her. A monkey and a dog that had been curled up behind her, fled in fear of the killing aura he emitted.
Watching the animals dash off, Onju clutched the pouch to her chest and asked, as if giving in:
“…Fine. Tell me what exactly you want me to fix.”
“It’s not a very difficult job.”
Still eyeing the fleeing animals, the man smoothly took out a long slip of paper from his robe.
“I want you to repair this.”
Onju’s round eyes grew even wider.
“That piece of paper is it? You gave me all those jewels just to fix that?”
“Don’t say ‘just’. It might be an important clue. But it got torn, and I’m very worried.”
He wagged the torn piece between his fingers. It fluttered pathetically, held by his long, elegant hand. It was roughly the size of a grown man’s palm—long and rectangular. It looked similar to a talisman but was thicker and sturdier.
“Hmm.”
After tilting her head and inspecting the paper, Onju finally spoke:
“It looks like a divination tag that mermaids use when crying and drawing lots for love fortunes.”
At the word “mermaid”, the man frowned in clear disgust.
“So even mermaids come to your repair shop for romantic counseling?”
“We fix everything here. They say the easiest way to fix a broken heart is just to listen. So I listen well.”
Onju glanced at the top and bottom of the paper: the number “十” (ten) was written at the top, and “運命” (fate) at the bottom. Her brow furrowed.
‘This paper smells faintly like fish and sea water… Something bound to it has escaped.’
The townsfolk of Dongnae, who pitied Onju being stuck in her shop, often came by and shared all kinds of gossip.
Thanks to the peculiar nature of Dongnae, where all the strange things in the world gathered, Onju had heard all sorts of bizarre stories.
‘Even with all that useless knowledge, I’ve never heard of a divination tag that traps something inside.’
She muttered seriously.
“You say you’re from a good family, so where’d you get something this shady? Doesn’t look like a rich kid’s toy.”
“Didn’t find it—I took it from someone who attacked me.”
The man answered calmly. Onju looked at him, eyes wide.
“You stole it—and tore it?”
“Strictly speaking, I didn’t tear it. I was trying to take it, and the attacker was trying to keep it. The tug-of-war ripped it.”
“….”
“Paper tends to rip when two people pull on it from both sides.”
His casual answer deepened the furrow between her brows.
Lowering himself to meet her eye level again, the man spoke.
“I want this tag restored to its flawless state. I heard the little lady of the Dongnae repair shop is a master at restoring books and paintings. Won’t you show me your skills?”
Onju didn’t deny it. As he said, she had no talent for cooking, but she had confidence in fixing things with her hands.
‘He says the shop’s fame reached even the central province… Could that be true?’
She looked at the shop door.
She had heard that even if she passed through that dimly lit entrance, she wouldn’t be able to leave Dongnae.
‘Thirteen years ago… The emperor’s guards raided Dongnae, sealed it off, and cut it off from the empire.’
That was what the mermaids had told her, full of resentment.
They said Dongnae was falsely accused of kidnapping the crown prince and was completely isolated from the continent.
Onju believed her lost memories had been sealed away at the same time.
Whenever she spiraled into dark thoughts—wondering why she remembered nothing, why she couldn’t leave the shop—blaming the emperor gave her some relief.
‘Well, it wasn’t all bad. Thanks to the isolation, real pirates and smugglers now use Dongnae’s harbor freely.’
Another tidbit from the mermaids.
‘Thanks to that, Dongnae thrived. So maybe it worked out for the best.’
She looked down at her legs.
‘I’ve never taken a step out of this shop in over ten years, but my reputation has crossed city walls to the central lands.’
She envied that rumor—wanted to ride that rumor and fly to the empire’s heart.
With longing in her eyes, she stared at the dusty door.
Frozen like a graceful statue, she soon shook her head, dismissing the thought.
‘They say Dongnae stays peaceful because I remain inside this shop. That I’m a blessing they must protect.’
With a deep breath, she pushed away the bitter thoughts and repeated her usual mantra:
‘They cherish me, they say I bring good luck. That’s enough.’
She took in the man and the torn paper again.
It was good quality paper with fine, steady brush strokes forming straight lines and floral corner designs—beautiful, yes, but that was all.
Except for the strange, lingering energy that seeped from the tear… unsettling, much like the mysterious man himself.
Still, it didn’t feel dangerous.
