"Hey, Dosa, does Hyunjin have any clothes left?"

  In our village, 'Dosa' wasn't just a title for some mountain hermit. It was what everyone called Grandpa an acknowledgement of him as a 'Master' or 'Expert' of his craft. To his clients, he was the highly respected 'Dosa-nim,' but to Grandma, he was just 'Dosa' the man who lived in her house and occasionally needed a good scolding.

  "Should be some in his bag. They said they sent a package from Seoul, but I guess it hasn't arrived yet."

  It seemed my clothes from Seoul were still in transit. Grandma sighed.

  "When is it coming? He’s got nothing to change into. What are we supposed to do?"

  Despite her worry, Grandpa ignored her and casually lit his long bamboo pipe. Naturally, this set Grandma off.

  "Dosa! Are you listening to me? I asked when my grandson's clothes are coming!"

  "I told you, I don't know," Grandpa muttered. "Jung-joo said he sent them for sure."

  Jung-joo was my dad's name. Grandpa took a long drag from his pipe, looking indifferent, which made Grandma scoff in disbelief.

  "Call Jung-joo right now. Ask him when the kid's clothes will get here."

  As Grandma pressed him harder, Grandpa looked slightly flustered. When he didn't respond, she prodded him again.

  "Well? Why aren't you calling?"

  "He went to Japan. I haven't gotten his new number yet."

  Suddenly [SLAP!!!]

  Grandma’s ham-sized palm slammed into Grandpa’s back.

  "YEOW! Hot hot hot hot!"

  Grandpa jumped up and started rolling around the wooden porch, unable to reach the spot where he’d been struck. Grandma didn’t even spare him a glance.

  "Go to the temple. Now. Go see your friend. Hurry!"

  Grandpa snapped back, clearly annoyed by the sudden demand. "Why?"

  Grandpa hated leaving the house. He especially loathed running errands. At first, I thought he was just being lazy.

  "Can't you see?" Grandma snapped. "The little one has nothing left to wear. Even if I wash these now, they won't be dry by tomorrow."

  I had brought a few outfits from Seoul, thinking a week’s worth would be enough until Dad’s package arrived. Apparently, mail moved a lot slower in the countryside.

  "What's the big deal? The boy’s father said he sent them. They'll be here if we just wait a bit longer," Grandpa grumbled.

  Grandma stared at him, her eyes bulging with a terrifying intensity. She looked like a fierce guardian general.

  "He has nothing for tomorrow. Stop talking and just go."

  Grandpa continued to resist. "So what? He's just a kid! Strip him naked when he sleeps, and let him wear something a bit dirty or damp when he plays. It won't kill him!"

  Grandma was beyond speechless. She glared at him. "What day is it tomorrow?"

  "I don't know. Why does that matter?"

  "It’s Saturday. We’ll have a lot of visitors. Are you going to let your grandson look like a beggar in front of everyone?"

  That caught him off guard. Seizing the opening, Grandma unleashed a barrage of nagging.

  "Fine! Great job, Mr. Dosa. Must be nice having a beggar for a grandson. I’m so jealous."

  "Nothing to be jealous of. He's your beggar grandson, too."

  Grandpa refused to back down. He put the pipe back in his mouth, took a deep breath, and as his eyes met Grandma's, he exhaled a massive cloud of white smoke right into her face.

  [Pffuuuuuuuuuuu~~~]

  Smoke hitting her face was the final straw.

  "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!"

  Grandma let out a roar toward the yard. It was so loud and powerful it felt like the 'Lion's Roar' from a martial arts movie.

  "LISTEN UP, EVERYONE! This boy isn't the Dosa’s grandson. he’s a little beggar! Look at this poor boy being turned into a beggar by that useless Dosa!!"

  She shouted so loudly I had to cover my ears. Grandpa finally snapped.

  "Alright, alright! Shut it! I’m going! I’m going right now!"

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  In the end, Grandpa trekked up to the mountain temple. He returned clutching a set of grey robes.

  "Here, clothes. There was a kid up there about his size, so I stripped him."

  "What are you talking about?" Grandma asked.

  "It’s just a way of speaking. Just let it go."

  That was the first time I ever wore the robes of a child monk. It felt incredibly awkward. I even felt a bit sorrowful.

  'Jesus... do I have to wear temple clothes now?'

  Seeing me look so uneasy, Grandpa softened.

  "You look truly beautiful. How do you look exactly like your mother when she was little?"

  Suddenly, my eyes welled up. I missed my mom, and I missed my siblings.

  [SLAP!!!]

  Grandma struck Grandpa’s back again, this time with the speed of a world champion boxer. She shouted.

  "Why do you have to make my Hyunjin cry when he was doing just fine? What a twisted hobby you have!"

  In that moment, my survival instinct whispered to me

  'Stick with Grandma, not Grandpa.'

  Grandpa spent most of his time loafing around. He was such a slacker Dosa that he rarely even looked at his books. He’d just sit on the porch staring blankly at the sky or take me to the village market when Grandma had errands. That was his entire weekday routine.

  Then one day, Dad called.

  "Hello?"

  "Oh, Hyunjin? Is that you?"

  "Dad?!!"

  Dad asked how I was doing and then gave me some advice or rather, a lecture.

  "Don't just play all day. Try to learn at least a few Chinese characters from your grandfather. Your great uncle is a master of classical literature. Learning the Thousand Character Classic will help you for the rest of your life."

  After the call, I ran straight to Grandpa.

  "Grandpa, please teach me some Chinese characters."

  Usually, adults love it when kids ask to study. They praise you and try to teach you even more than you asked for. But Grandpa was different.

  "Hey! A kid should be out playing! Why do you want to learn that stuff? As long as you can read Korean, you're fine. You won't have any trouble making a living."

  He sounded annoyed. Feeling slighted, I pushed back.

  "Dad said it would make studying easier later on. Please teach me, Grandpa."

  Grandpa suddenly barked at me.

  "Easier? You think that's what studying is? Being top of your class, top of the country... none of that matters. It’s all an illusion. A mirage."

  He went back to what he was doing which, of course, was staring at the sky.

  "How do you know? Have you ever even been top of your class?"

  Grandpa looked at me like I was talking nonsense. "What kind of rubbish is that? Just go out and play."

  Then he added, "A kid's job isn't studying it's playing. Other kids cry and scream when they're forced to study, but this little brat is whining to be taught. How exhausting."

  At first, he wouldn't even let me look at a single character.

  A while later, perhaps out of boredom, Grandpa decided to read my Saju (a traditional method of analyzing one’s fate based on the date and time of birth).

  "What kind of Saju is this?"

  "Why? Is something bad going to happen next year?"

  "This is ridiculous. Even if he's only half related to me, how can a boy with our family blood be destined to spend his whole life chasing women, never getting married, and ending up a restless bachelor spirit?"

  I was speechless. I mean, I’m only seven. And until recently, I had been a regular churchgoer. The pastors always told us not to look at or believe in such superstitions. It wasn't even like I asked for this—he just forced the reading on me.

  "I'm not bragging," Grandpa said, though he sounded like he was, "but I've been married twice."

  Checking to make sure Grandma wasn't around, he whispered, "And I'll probably go one more time."

  Then, something terrifying happened. I was sure Grandma wasn't there, but suddenly, she was standing there, glaring at us. Her aura was sharp enough to drop a bird mid-flight. But Grandpa, oblivious to the danger, continued whispering.

  "And keep this to yourself, but your dad is going to get married again, too. That’s why I was against the marriage in the first place. He’s destined to have two wives."

  As he spoke, I saw a dark, ghost-like smoke rising from behind Grandma.

  "And there will be even more women chasing after him a whole truckload of them!"

  Hearing that, I started to sob. Grandpa finally realized his mistake. He beckoned me over.

  "Stop that! You're a boy you want your manhood to fall off from crying? Come here."

  He sat me on his lap.

  "I won't teach you characters, but I'll teach you how to read palms. You shouldn't be learning Chinese characters at your age."

  "Why not?" I asked.

  "You have Gwimun-gwansal in your Saju (a traditional method of analyzing one’s fate based on the date and time of birth) along with Hwagye-sal. Simply put, you're the type who's likely to end up a shaman or doing what I do."

  "What are those? Gwimun? Hwagye?"

  "Gwimun-gwansal means you have a sharp focus and pay attention to the tiniest details... basically, a very sensitive personality. You notice everything, so you might even see things you shouldn't. Not that I’d know—I don't have that."

  That sounded like me. I wondered what Grandpa actually paid attention to.

  "And... Hwagye-sal will hide your talents. Since the world won't recognize your abilities, it'll be hard to succeed. You’ll likely end up wandering, lost in art or religion."

  Everything he said was a mix of good and bad.

  "In the end, you'll either be a penniless artist... or a monk, a pastor, or some kind of cult leader."

  To be honest, I didn't understand a word of it. He was just listing difficult terms. Seeing my confusion, Grandpa laughed.

  "Well, of course you don't get it. That's normal. It just means people born on your day and time are very likely to fall into my line of work or religion. A pastor, a monk, or a Dosa like me."

  Actually, I thought the pastor part was quite likely. I had taught myself to read early and was the best at reciting Bible verses at church. The elders there always said they wanted to make me a minister.

  "If you want to avoid this life, don't learn those Chinese characters. They'll just become the tools that lead you down that path."

  Grandpa looked at the sky again. I sat there in silence, taking it all in.

  "But Grandpa, what about the exams at school? In Korea, we have to take tests on Chinese characters. Should I just not study for them?"

  Grandpa looked like he’d been poked in a sore spot. He quickly replied.

  "Do just enough to pass the exams. Don't go getting excited and studying for fun."

  For the first time in my life, I felt a spark of curiosity toward Saju. And I became quite interested in palmistry, the thing that might help me find a wife."

  I really wanted to have a family of my own as soon as possible.