The Great Storyteller - Chapter 370

Chapter 370: An Elusive Moon (1)

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Juho tried to put himself in a rational mindset, which proved to be harder than usual. After looking up at the painting above his head, he looked back down and let out a quick sigh.

In the silent room, the young author was fighting against the sound of the rain and the thunder roaring constantly. The image of Hyun Do writing kept lingering before his eyes, and within that was the crow.

Firmly believing that there would be peace in their life without the crow, the narrator fought the bird to the death. To them, the crow was the very essence of evil in the world they lived in.

Juho had been wrestling with what to do about the crow, debating about who should win the battle. Now that he had a better idea of the direction he wanted to take, Juho typed away on the keyboard of his laptop unhesitantly. As the sentences appeared on the screen, the pent up emotions within him also flowed out through his hands, being digested.

In the end, the crow met its demise in the hands of the narrator. At that moment, the narrator asked themselves if the death of the crow was what they had really wanted all along. However, it was simply too late for self-reflection by that point.

“The dead never return.”

Not only was that the truth, but it was also the law of nature. Being just and compliant with that law were the first steps for obtaining peace. Excited, Juho started to breathe faster, and his heart thumped. Anxious to put the stories welling up within him into writing, Juho bit down on his lower lip. The sounds from the keyboard grew louder and louder and in the end, as Juho rushed to wrap up the story.

“That’s done… for now.”

Feeling satisfied, Juho leaned back on his chair. Then, upon checking the time, he rose from his seat in a hurry. It was well past lunchtime. Although it wouldn’t have been a problem if he had been at his apartment, the young author was at Hyun Do’s residence. When he rushed downstairs, he saw Hyun Do calmly drinking his tea. From the looks of it, it seemed like he had already eaten. Rubbing the back of his neck, Juho greeted Hyun Do, “Good afternoon.”

“You’re late.”

Juho chuckled awkwardly. However, with a nonchalant look on his face, Hyun Do asked, “Do you always write like that?”

‘Did he see me writing?’ Juho wondered.

“Like that as in…?”

“Out of impulse.”

Then, Juho remembered he had given into his emotions just a moment ago.

“If I had been you, I wouldn’t have lasted.”

“I doubt it.”

“That’s what it’s like to let your emotions take over. It’s impossible to control.”

“I’m not sure if that’s how I’d put it.”

“Would you bring me your manuscript?”

Then, Juho hesitated and said, “On second thought, maybe you were right, Mr. Lim.”

“No? Do you not want to?”

Clenching his lips, Juho turned around. Then, he stopped halfway up the stairs and asked, “When were you in my room?”

Instead of giving him an answer, Hyun Do lightly pat the young author on the shoulder. He had to have come up to tell Juho that lunch had been ready. Then, after going up to his room, Juho brought his laptop downstairs.

“Have some tea while I read,” Hyun Do said.

Even as he was boiling the water, Juho couldn’t help but look toward Hyun Do, who was meticulously reading every single sentence. Awestruck, Juho found himself at a loss. Despite having stayed with Hyun Do for quite some time, he simply couldn’t get used to that moment.

“Seems like you’ve forced your feelings into your words.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s overflowing.”

Juho rubbed his eyebrows. After a brief moment of silence, Hyun Do asked, “Are you the protagonist here?”

Juho couldn’t answer readily. Lowering his head slightly, he said, “I’m not exactly the violent type.”

“Then, are you the crow?”

“I’m not that grouchy either.”

Hyun Do chuckled quietly at the young author’s response. He was well aware that Juho was telling the truth.

“Seems to me like the two characters share the same root. Am I right?”

Otherwise, Juho wouldn’t have felt so exposed by Hyun Do’s question. In the end, resisting the urge to sigh, Juho admitted, “Yes, Mr. Lim.”

“We all have something that we wish weren’t true.”

Then, Hyun Do’s eyes skimmed across the sentences on the screen of Juho’s laptop. Seeing as though he was moving his hands, Hyun Do seemed to be at the end of the story.

“The dead never return.”

“Do you think the narrator was foolish?”

“I don’t think they were wise, that’s for certain.”

“But, they become the hero of the village for driving out the crow.”

“That is true,” Hyun Do replied. Then, putting the laptop aside, he added, “Though, it makes me wonder if all that pain makes it worth it.”

“But the narrator hates the crow, just like everyone else in the village,” Juho said.

Brushing his hair up, Hyun Do replied, “That’s what makes this such an interesting story, don’t you think?”

At that unexpected response, Juho found himself at a loss for words, the corner of his mouth twitching in response.

“Well done,” Hyun Do said. As he rose from the seat unhurriedly, Juho asked by reflex, “Are you gonna write, Mr. Lim?”

“Yes,” Hyun Do replied calmly. There was no longer a need to write at night. Juho followed Hyun Do to his writing space.

“Did you have something to say?” Hyun Do asked, raising his eyebrow. After a brief pause and a deep breath, the young author replied, “I’d like to read it.”

“Read what?” Hyun Do asked knowingly.

Nevertheless, the young author clarified his statement, “Your manuscript.”

“It’s not finished yet.”

“I’m aware. I still wanna read it.”

Chuckling quietly, Hyun Do said, “All right, then.”

Caught off guard by the permission, Juho asked, “Wait, really?”

“You asked.”

“It’s just that… I didn’t think you’d say yes that quickly.”

“If there’s something you wanna read, then you gotta read it. That way, I don’t have to worry about you sneaking in here.”

At that, Juho felt pricked in the heart. As Hyun Do handed the stack of paper to the young author, Juho carefully took it from his hands. Hyun Do’s handwriting was tidy and well-trimmed. Swallowing nervously, Juho started reading.

“It’s here,” Juho murmured. They were the same sentences that he had read in his past life. Although still unrefined, there was no doubt that it was the same story. The missing teacher and the wandering student who had been left behind. The same questions Juho had asked as a homeless man were still very much alive in those sentences: Why couldn’t people be born, live, or die together?

“I wanted to hear every word he had to say.”

That was the student’s monologue in the story.

“Seems like the student is listening to the teacher’s will,” Juho said.

“The student was modeled after you, so I didn’t want to be cruel,” Hyun Do replied indifferently, adding, “… but I think I can change that.”

“Why?” Juho asked.

“I found a flaw in my writing, thanks to you.”

Juho was clueless as to what he was talking about. As far as the young author could tell, there was no flaw in Hyun Do’s writing. Then, before Juho had time to say anything further, Hyun Do snatched the manuscript from the young author’s hand and drew a line across a certain scene.

‘That’s such a waste!’ Juho said to himself.

“Voilà,” Hyun Do said in a serene voice. Now, the student could no longer hear what their teacher had to say. The dead never returned, and there was no way to reunite with them.

“I shouldn’t let my emotions get the best of me,” Hyun Do said as if reminding himself. The sunlight shone on his hair, making it seem even whiter.

At which point, Juho couldn’t help but ask, “Did you hear what Mr. Kang had to say before he passed away?”

“I noticed you’ve been asking awful lot about him.”

“He’s one of the authors I look up to.”

“As with most authors,” Hyun Do replied, adding, “I did.”

At that, Juho realized who the two characters in Hyun Do’s story represented. Then, as the young author opened his mouth to speak, Hyun Do beat him to it, saying, “But, I won’t tell you.”

His eyes sank quietly as if claiming ownership of Wol Kang’s last words. At which point, the young author let up without question. At the same time, certain that he would find out eventually through Hyun Do’s future books, Juho decided to wait patiently.

“It’s cloudy out today too.”

Juho went downstairs later than usual that day. Of course, Hyun Do was already in his writing space. When Juho walked down the hallway toward the room, the door was open halfway, and Hyun Do was writing unhesitantly with his usual straight posture. As Hyun Do wrote away, Juho stared at him quietly, wondering what he would look like writing at Hyun Do’s age. It was impossible for authors to see themselves with their own eyes. Even in front of a mirror, their eyes were bound to wander off to their sentences. ‘When I’m his age, will I be that pure and passionate when I write?’ Juho wondered, hoping that he would write as if it was part of him and his everyday life. Hyun Do’s straight posture told Juho that he was completely immersed in writing, without distraction or greed, and that was the kind of author Juho wanted to be.

“Back again?” Hyun Do asked, looking toward Juho.

“Yes. May I?” Juho asked confidently. About two months had passed by the time Hyun Do finished the first draft of his story.

“So many informative books in here,” Juho said as he placed a book back into the shelf. Since Hyun Do had a wide variety of collections due to his indiscriminate taste, choosing a book from his study was quite fun. Juho looked through the well-maintained books on the shelf, imagining Hyun Do having bought them one by one over the years.

“I remember him saying that he keeps older stuff in here.”

Curious about the oldest book in Hyun Do’s collection, Juho made his way toward the inner room. Because of the sheer number of books in the study, it took the young author a while to reach the room since he kept looking through them one by one. Then, upon reaching the room, Juho opened the door. Filled with intimidating-looking books, the room felt colder than the study.

“It even smells different in here.”

Then, upon finding a certain book, Juho squatted in front of the bookshelf.

“This must be the first edition.”

Juho cautiously pulled out the book from the shelf. It was the first edition of a novel that was still in print to that day. Everything looked different from the version that he had read, from the cover to the translation, the publisher and the materials. Upon flipping the page, a slew of obsolete words came into view, which gave all the dialogues and monologues a tactful feel. It was as if watching an actor’s poor performance, which was also quite refreshing. Like the book, Seo Kwang’s translation, which had been well received by fans and critics alike, would become obsolete. Juho’s translation was probably no different. Books were inanimate objects, which meant they couldn’t change or evolve on their own.

“And they’ll keep making improvements…”

… whether that was what the author wanted or not. After scanning through the pages, Juho closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. Then, spotting a familiar name, Juho let out, “Hm?”

It was a book written by Yun Seo.

“Is this a first edition too? He has three copies.”

It was her debut title. Although it was no longer in print, it was a book that allowed her to have a successful debut. It had also brought her a first place award in a literary contest. Right off the bat, there was a comment from one of the judges of the contest, which Juho read with interest.

“The birth of a rare rookie. There is determination behind her firm sentences. Personally, I sincerely hope that she keeps it up. It’s a shame that there’s an edge to her writing, but I firmly believe that this author has a promising future ahead. Her writing shares an uncanny resemblance to a rose: covered in thorns, yet it exudes an irresistible charm.”

Knowing Yun Seo as an author who excelled at writing stories that made readers comfortable and at home, a description like that was hard to imagine. The books were organized in alphabetical order. Then, while Juho was scanning through short stories that he had never heard of, a book at the very end of the shelf caught his eyes.

“Is that a book?”

There was something about the book that didn’t seem quite right. There was no title nor the name of the author anywhere, which made it seem like it hadn’t been officially released. If anything, it seemed like more a school project. As Juho opened it, the sentences within it came into view.

“It’s a novel.”

Following the description of the protagonist in the novel, Juho tried to picture the character in his mind, which had an uncanny resemblance to another person he knew. Then, after flipping through a few more pages, Juho stopped all of a sudden as he realized how he recognized the writing style.

“Is this…”

When Juho looked up, the name ‘Wol Kang’ appeared on the shelf. Next to Yun Seo’s book was Wol’s book. At which point, Juho’s hand tensed up. He was reading Wol’s writing. Since the author had passed away at a relatively young age, his bibliography was quite short. Although Juho had thought that he had read every single book written by Wol, the mysterious book in his hand was telling him otherwise.

“I’ve never read anything like this.”