I heard a truly bizarre rumor today.

  The word on the street was that I was my grandfather’s secret son. It was so absurd that I went straight to him and brought it up.

  "There's a strange rumor going around."

  "What? That you’re my son?"

  Grandfather already knew.

  "Yes. It doesn't make any sense."

  "Why doesn't it make sense? I’m not even fifty yet, and you’re only seven. The math works out fine."

  "Is that really enough reason for people to be suspicious?"

  "Think about it from their perspective. Your grandma and I were living here all by ourselves, and then suddenly, a seven year old squirt appears out of nowhere, following me around and calling me 'Grandpa' all day. Of course they’re going to talk."

  "But is it really that suspicious?"

  "Your grandma’s belly never got big, but suddenly a kid who looks just like me is running around this place. If I were them, I’d think the same thing."

  "You would?"

  "They probably think, ‘That damn Dosa made a kid somewhere on the outside and brought him home.’"

  "What?!! No way!"

  "Well, you take after your mother’s side of the family, and that means you and I actually look quite alike. Honestly, if some girl I knew showed up at the door holding your hand and said you were my son, I’d probably believe her myself."

  Instead of getting angry at the gossip, Grandfather actually defended the villagers and his regular clients. Seeing me so frustrated, he added a few more words.

  "Leave it be. No matter how hard you try to change it, you can’t. People only see what they want to see, and they only believe what they want to believe."

  "But it’s so frustrating and unfair! Shouldn't we tell them it's not true?"

  "Why? What’s so wrong with being my son? Why is that 'unfair'?"

  "Because it’s not a fact! And being your son... it just feels wrong!"

  Grandfather listened to my complaints for a long time before speaking again.

  "You’ll understand when you grow up. Every time something like this happens, try your best to wipe your eyes and look at the true essence of things. But even then, it won't be easy."

  "Then do I have to live my whole life being treated unfairly?"

  "The truth always reveals itself as time passes. The only problem is how long it takes."

  I found his answer incredibly stifling. Seeing the look on my face, he said one last thing.

  "Most humans spend their lives thinking lies are the truth and the truth is a lie. By the time they realize what’s real, so much time has passed that it’s hard to turn things back."

  "I won't live like that."

  Grandfather laughed at my bold declaration.

  "Go ahead and try. But life doesn't always go according to your plans."

  Of course, the rumor vanished in just three months.

  My father, who had been in Japan, stopped by the Saju Philosophy Studio to see me. When the villagers saw the two of us walking around the town together, the misunderstanding cleared up instantly.

  For those few months, no matter how much I cried or denied it, people wouldn't believe me.

  It was time for me to head out and play with my friends. I had to pass the waiting room where the clients were.

  The air was so pleasant that the doors had been left wide open. As I passed by the waiting room, I locked eyes with Grandfather.

  "Where are you off to?"

  "To play with my friends. We're meeting by the telephone pole at the crossroads."

  After I answered, Grandfather let out a long, heavy sigh.

  "Before you go, bring me a bowl of cool water. Your grandpa feels a bit suffocated."

  Whenever Grandfather asked for cool water, there was always a reason. It was a habit he had when a Saju reading wasn't going well, likely because he wasn't the type to just read off what was visible on the surface.

  ‘He should just say it as he sees it. Then he wouldn't be so frustrated.’

  Saju readings are generally similar if the birth data, including the year, month, day, and hour, is the same.

  The study of Myeongli is based on classics like Jeokcheon-su, Gungtong Bogam, and Japyeong Jinjeon, interpreting destiny through the logic of Yin-Yang and the Five Elements. Therefore, any master who has studied beyond a certain level will reach a similar conclusion.

  However, the difference in a master's skill shows in the direction of their interpretation and the quality of their advice. In fact, there were frequent occasions when a destiny was so bleak that no matter how hard you tried to find a positive angle, there simply was no answer.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  People who aren't frustrated don't come to an Saju Philosophy Studio. So, it’s safe to say that most people who climb up here are carrying stifling destinies. But even among them, there were some that were truly hopeless. When Grandfather encountered such a fate, he became genuinely distressed.

  I was certain he had just met one of those rare, ill-fated destinies.

  I placed a bowl of cool water on a tray and entered the consultation room. This time, unlike my usual errands, I intended to steal a look at the guest's face. I was intensely curious about the features of someone whose destiny could make my grandfather feel so suffocated.

  As I handed him the water, I snuck a look at the woman.

  ‘Wow. Can a face really be this blessless? This is a classic Gohan-ji-sang (孤寒之相).’

  Go (孤) for lonely, and Han (寒) for cold. It is described in the Eight Laws of Physiognomy as a face that is literally "cold and lonely."

  The woman had a striking appearance. Her skull was wide at the sides with a jutting lower jaw, and her eyebrows were faint, short, and drooping. Her hairline was messy with stray hairs, her eyes were small, and she had a slightly upturned nose with small lips. Even her voice had a grating, irritated tone that was unpleasant to hear.

  I turned to my grandfather and asked.

  "Grandfather. This lady is a textbook Gohan-ji-sang, right?"

  Grandfather looked startled and couldn't say a word. The woman turned to me.

  "What does that mean, little Dosa?"

  Since she asked me so politely, I felt I had to answer.

  "Gohan-ji-sang means a face that is destined for loneliness."

  I felt her gaze tremble violently. I felt a pang of guilt, so I added an excuse of sorts.

  "I don't really know what the word means yet, but people say it means being 'blessless.' I don't really understand 'blessless' either. I'm still young, you see."

  The moment I said that, a deathly silence fell over both the consultation room and the waiting area. Then, it happened.

  "Sob... hic... u-waaaaaah..."

  Suddenly, the woman who had questioned me burst into a pitiful wail. Grandfather stared at her blankly, looking troubled, and I realized I’d made a mistake. I bolted from the room.

  ‘What the... she started crying just because I said one thing. That lady is scary.’

  Thinking this, I sat on the wooden porch and started putting on my shoes. Seeing me, Grandmother asked.

  "Where are you rushing off to? Eat some fruit before you go."

  She tried to catch me, but I replied with a look of slight panic.

  "My friends are waiting for me outside! I’ll be back!"

  In those days, the telephone pole at the neighborhood crossroads was the gathering spot for children, even without an appointment. When I reached the pole, the kids were already playing Jachigi, a traditional game played with sticks. They had been an odd number, so the teams weren't even, but with my arrival, the numbers were balanced.

  Because of me, the Yin and Yang were in harmony. And a game played in harmony is incredibly fun. I played with all my heart, completely forgetting that I had just deeply wounded the woman who had come as a guest.

  In the middle of our intense game of Jachigi, a friend said to me.

  "Hey, isn't that your grandpa running this way? His hair is flying like a goblin's!"

  It was true.

  Looking in the direction he pointed, I saw my grandfather. It seemed he had rushed out to find me the second he finished with that woman. He looked a little—no, very—angry. Gasping for breath from the sprint, he spoke.

  "Never... never blurt out words like that again. It’s not that I didn't say it because I didn't know."

  Then, he raised his voice even louder.

  “This work isn't about killing people to make money. It’s about saving those who are ready to die and helping them survive their most difficult times.”

  He spoke so sternly that all the other children bowed their heads and listened.

  "It is Hwal-in-sul (The Art of Saving Lives)! It is absolutely not Sa-in-sul (The Art of Killing)!"

  I interrupted him nonchalantly.

  I knew very well that I had made a mistake. But I hated being scolded like this in front of my neighborhood friends. No matter how wrong I was, I felt Grandfather was in the wrong for this.

  "Yes, I was wrong, Grandfather. But you see..."

  I started with 'But' to cut off his nagging. However, I couldn't think of what to say next. Actually, I had felt sorry for the woman earlier, and I never imagined she would cry like that. I was irritated too. Due to these complicated feelings, I blurted out words I didn't truly mean.

  "I was in the middle of playing with my friends. If you're going to scold me, can't you do it later?"

  After saying that, I ignored Grandfather and continued the game. My friends looked even more shocked by my reaction.

  "Hyunjin’s got real guts," one of them whispered.

  Grandfather exploded at my response. He let out a roar.

  "Aaaaaaaaah! Who does this brat take after to be so rude?!"

  Seemingly unable to contain his frustration, Grandfather kicked a white, spent briquette that had been discarded in the alley. The briquette soared a great distance. Then, just as he had arrived, he vanished like the wind back toward the Saju Philosophy Studio. I figured he was probably heading back to see the next guest.

  Seeing that, a friend said.

  "Your grandpa is strong! He must be really, really pissed."

  "Yeah. You should've just apologized. What are you gonna do now?"

  Another friend chimed in.

  "Since he only ever looks at books, I thought he was just a weak scholar. But if you got hit by that kick, you'd be dead in one shot."

  Until my friends said those things, I hadn't thought the situation was that serious. Hearing their words, I started to feel a bit scared. So, I went home a little late that day, afraid of the massive scolding that would surely be waiting for me.

  But surprisingly, when I finally entered the house, Grandfather didn't say a word. It was a relief.

  It was after that day. Every guest who came to the Saju Philosophy Studio. began calling me 'The Little Dosa.' And Grandfather stopped teaching me about physiognomy while we watched television at night.

  I told myself I liked it better. I liked not having to hear him say things like "This person will end up like this" or "That person will turn out like that" whenever we watched TV. Honestly, the TV was more fun than Grandfather’s stories.

  But in truth... I felt a little left out.

  The night of the day I deeply wounded the guest, I fell asleep next to Grandmother. I was sleeping soundly, but I was jolted awake by Grandfather’s gravelly voice. I had no choice but to continue pretending to sleep because the two of them were talking about me.

  Grandpa let out a long sigh. “A child... this wasn't for a kid to be learning.”

  Hearing that, Grandmother spoke in a low voice. She sounded a bit angry.

  "Do you really need to experience it to know? You’re so slow, Dosa. You’d know if you thought about it for even a second. You’re not a Dosa, are you? You’re an idiot."

  Grandmother was the only person who spoke so bluntly to Grandfather. And even after hearing those words, Grandfather didn't argue back at all. It seemed Grandmother’s words were the ultimate truth. The words of the strong are the truth.

  After listening to their conversation that night, I made a firm resolution that if I ever saw that 'blessless' woman again, I would definitely apologize.

  ‘But how exactly should I apologize? "I’m sorry for letting you know you were born blessless"?’

  I couldn't think of a proper way.

  After going through this, I think I understood a little better why Grandfather always struggled in front of those who brought him destinies that were so suffocatingly hopeless.