Come Back

The destination sent via messenger by the production staff was located about two and a half hours by car from Seoul, in a remote valley between Bangtae Mountain and Gogae Mountain in the Taebaek Mountain Range.

It was far from any famous tourist areas or ski resort towns, and within a 10 km radius, there were no houses. After leaving the Yangyang Expressway, the road twisted and turned for a long time, eventually leading to a rough, narrow unpaved road.

Understanding’s SUV stopped in a parking lot that felt more like an abandoned open space, not large enough to be called a parking area.

The rain, which had started to fall in a few drops when they crossed the border between Seoul and Gangwon Province, had turned into a drizzle. The surroundings were so quiet that even the faint sound of the rain hitting the car window was clearly audible.

“Vice President, you’ll need to walk from here to the main hall above,” the assistant said.

“Okay, thank you for your hard work,” Understanding replied.

Even after arriving, he didn’t plan to get out immediately. He stared out the car window, lost in thought. The assistant quickly got out, grabbed an umbrella from the trunk, and waited by the back seat.

Understanding put on a thin early-winter coat he had left on the passenger seat and got out of the car. The deep mountain air in November was filled with moisture and cold. As he exhaled deeply, his breath misted in the thin raindrops.

He reached out his hand to ask for the umbrella.

“I’ll carry it for you,” the assistant offered.

“No need. You rest,” Understanding replied, walking past the other cars that had arrived before them. He began walking up the mountain path. The slightly muddy dirt road slowed his pace, but there was no rush. There was still about 20 minutes before the ceremony would start.

With the decline of shamanic practices, fewer shamans owned their own temples these days. Most shamans rented a temple in the mountains, where they could conduct their rituals without worrying about being reported. It was rare for anyone to go this far into the mountains, as constructing a building here would require a significant investment.

However, the shaman who would oversee the ritual today had a personal temple, separate from his temple in Seoul. This was a rare occurrence, indicating his great influence.

As the path grew more enveloped by the dense forest, the temple slowly came into view. It felt as though all the birds and beasts of the mountain were bowing down in submission to the temple, and the lush plants surrounding it seemed to watch over the mortals who passed through, guarding the sacred space.

The strange, otherworldly energy was unlike any typical ominous feeling. Understanding felt a chill run down his spine and the fine hairs on his face stood up. Even someone like him, who had never relied on shamanism or any other religion, couldn’t deny the clear presence of this energy.

It felt as if another set of laws and powers governed this place, an overwhelming and primal force that demanded submission.

Understanding raised the umbrella and slowly surveyed the temple and its surroundings. With his other hand, he rubbed his tingling cheek and neck. It was rare to feel such a chill simply from being deep in the mountains.

As his gaze fell downward, he saw a group of people gathered in front of the temple.

Among the people standing under the eaves, it wasn’t hard to spot Yoon Hyean.

Following the production team’s request for him to dress neatly, Yoon Hyean wore a white shirt and black suit. The suit appeared to be off the rack, and it didn’t fit well on his slender frame. His shirt collar was loose as he had not worn a tie.

He was talking to actor Kim Ijeong, who stood beside him. Occasionally, Yoon Hyean rubbed his hands together as if he were cold, bringing them to his mouth to warm them.

Understanding frowned at the sight.

Kim Ijeong, standing next to him, wore a black suit with a long black padded coat. It made Understanding wonder what kind of company Yoon Hyean’s was, as they hadn’t even provided something as simple as a winter coat.

As he got closer and their eyes met, Yoon Hyean recognized him and nodded first. Understanding gave a slight nod in return.

“Vice President, you’ve arrived? Please come this way. Everyone is greeting the shaman,” the general producer guided him.

Following the guide, Understanding entered the temple.

Inside, a grand ritual table had been set up. Various fruits, grains, cookies, and rice cakes were laid out beautifully, with a well-cooked pig’s head placed at the center, though it was clear that this wasn’t the typical ritual where money would be placed in the pig’s nostrils.

There were musicians and drummers preparing to perform during the ritual. On one wall, the shaman’s elaborate ceremonial attire was neatly hung, with about six sets in total. It seemed that the ritual would involve six stages today, which was fewer than the usual twelve, but still much more elaborate than an ordinary ceremony.

What caught everyone’s attention most were the candles on the altar. There were at least a hundred long candles flickering, swaying precariously every time the wind blew through the open front door.

The actors and production staff, who had yet to greet the “Shaman,” were busy curiously glancing around the inside of the temple and at the “Shaman.”

It was indeed a scene that would be quite the spectacle for most people.

“Director, the Vice President has arrived,” the general producer said.

Director Kang Woo-hyun, who had been talking to the shaman while shaking hands, turned around.

“Oh, Vice President. Come this way and greet us. This is the great shaman who has worked hard for our film today.”

“Great shaman? She’s still a novice,” the woman in a white hanbok, resembling a burial robe, greeted Understanding before changing into her ceremonial attire.

“Thank you. I’m Lee Hae-sung,” Understanding said, shaking her hand in return.

“If the shaman isn’t great, then who is? These days, even novices who’ve only been at it for five years call themselves shamans,” Director Kang interjected, praising her. She only smiled kindly.

The few shamans Understanding had encountered up to this point were mostly extravagant, with strong personalities and a penchant for flashy jewelry. Even those who had connections with the elite or were known for their power in shamanism fit this image.

However, the shaman introduced by Director Kang was the opposite.

With no rings on her fingers, her hands were clean and her hair neatly done, her appearance and demeanor were simple and modest, lacking any flash. But her gaze carried a certain strength—unyielding and far from ordinary.

She was likely in her sixties, short and slender, yet her calm movements and voice had a charisma that made those around her feel reverent.

She was undoubtedly one of the most intriguing shamans Understanding had met.

“Director Kang, before we begin the ceremony, I’d like to greet everyone and arrange the space. Would that be alright?” the shaman asked.

Director Kang folded his hands and bowed repeatedly in agreement.

“Of course, you may do as you please,” he said.

The general producer gathered everyone’s attention and rearranged the group so that the shaman could see everyone’s faces. Most of the people who had been outside gathered inside the temple, with younger actors like Yoon Hyean and Kim Ijeong peeking out from the back of the hall.

Understanding, standing next to Director Kang and the production company’s representative on the lower level of the temple, noticed Yoon Hyean’s pale face among the crowd.

“Everyone, I thank you for making the long journey here. I am Lee Jong-ik, the shaman who will be conducting the ceremony today,” the shaman introduced herself as she stepped forward.

“Lee Jong-ik? Aren’t shamans usually called names like ‘General Jangdu’ or ‘Bead Boy’? What kind of shaman introduces themselves by their real name?” one of the actors whispered to a colleague beside them. It was actor Seo Jun-young, playing a doctor suffering from pet loss syndrome.

When the shaman’s gaze turned toward Seo Jun-young, his colleague nudged him in the ribs.

“We’ve gathered here today to pray for the smooth progress of our film. This isn’t a large-scale ritual, but a ritual is not about size. It’s not just about setting up the offerings and having the shaman perform dances and beats. It’s about the sincerity of the person praying, and the sincerity of this novice, to move the spirits,” the shaman spoke, her voice cutting through the air, as though commanding the entire mountain, even though she did not raise her voice.

But then, a brief laugh broke the solemn atmosphere. It was Seo Jun-young.

The shaman’s eyes locked onto him once again. This time, she continued speaking while fixing her gaze on him.

“Those who treat this sacred ceremony as a mere spectacle, or those who mock the spirits with impure hearts, I’m sorry to say, will need to leave the mountain before the ritual begins. Only with a pure body and mind, devoted to the heavens, ancestors, and spirits, will the ritual have any effect. Please, quietly leave if you lack this sincerity,” she said.

After finishing, the shaman clasped her hands and bowed respectfully. As she turned to leave, Seo Jun-young began complaining to the general producer.

“PD, if this was going to happen, you should have informed us earlier. We’ve invited people all the way here and now we’re being told to leave. This isn’t dog training. If I’d known I’d have to listen to such nonsense, I wouldn’t have come to this superstitious ceremony in the first place.”

The shaman, who was about to ascend the platform to conduct the ritual, stopped and turned back toward Seo Jun-young.

“Over there, believer,” she called.

The room, previously buzzing with murmurs, froze in an instant. Even the few people who had been thinking about leaving now held their breath and focused entirely on her, including Seo Jun-young.