Unable to Show a Greed for Money

The first customer I welcomed into the philosophy hall was a middle-aged woman.

She looked to be in her mid-50s—a bit younger than my own mother.

And at that moment, I heard the sound again.

[<2,484th Customer. Appraise this customer’s Saju, listen to her troubles, and receive a consultation fee. Solving her problems will grant more points.>]

“Is something wrong?”

I was still getting used to the messages ringing in my ears, so my startled reaction prompted the customer to ask.

“Oh, no. Please, have a seat.”

Reading this customer’s Saju had become a quest.

I was surprised, but I pretended I wasn’t to avoid looking like a crazy person. To earn both Saju fortification points and money, I decided to take this reading seriously.

First, I gave her a quick scan.

It wasn’t that I lacked Saju knowledge, but I prefer to start by narrowing down the probabilities with a keen eye. Back in the military, officers and seniors would make me read the Saju of every woman in their lives—girlfriends, exes, flings 1 and 2, potential candidates 1, 2, and 3, female acquaintances, friends 1 through 5, and so on.

‘Hey? You think that’s right? Read it properly! I heard Sergeant Lee Choong-won was spot on!’

If I was wrong, they’d nag me.

Whether it was seniors or juniors, they were all so suspicious that I developed a sharp eye for detail just to survive.

This first customer was born in the 60s, and I noticed a makeup style similar to what my mom used to wear when she was in her 30s.

“You’re doing readings? Is the Master not here?”

“I am his disciple.”

“A disciple? Do you know how to read them?”

The woman’s eyes were full of doubt.

I felt like this one sentence would be enough to clear her suspicion and get her to sit down.

“I have mastered the secret methods my teacher passed down. In exchange, I charge less than he does. Please, sit.”

I looked at the price list for this hall. It was 50,000 won per person.

I quickly grabbed a marker and changed the ‘5’ to a ‘3’ on the A4 price list taped to the desk. I believed the Master’s secret record was worth more than that, but since my skills weren’t quite there yet, the price had to be reasonable.

Next, her handbag.

The color was flashy, but it was synthetic leather—not even a clumsy knock-off luxury brand. It was evidence that she didn’t spend money easily.

For a woman in her 50s sensitive to saving, “cheap” was the best hook. This was a lesson I learned after telling my mom—who was going to a shaman for a reading—that I’d do it for half the price.

The woman didn’t leave; she sat in the customer chair.

“You’re very young. How old are you?”

I looked even younger thanks to the skin fortification. It was better than any anti-aging treatment. I had thought it was a waste of points earlier, but now I felt a bit of pride in having raised it.

“It’s a secret. I doubt there’s a generation gap between us, though.”

“Oh, are you older than I thought?”

“No, it’s just that your skin is so good I could almost call you ‘Noona.’ You look like someone in her early 40s who takes great care of herself, so you definitely don’t look like a mother to me.”

For the record, I’m a person who calls forest fire monitors older than my father “Hyung-nim.”

Through reading Saju and dealing with people, I’ve realized that flattery rarely backfires. Moreover, if someone comes for a reading, you have to treat them like royalty.

“Hohoho! My, this young man has a way with words.”

“I’ll take your Saju now. Please tell me your birth date and the time you were born.”

I receive the Saju to interpret it, but I narrow down the answers beforehand with my observations.

First, I look at their appearance.

The fact that they came to a fortuneteller? The probability of them currently leading a wildly successful life is very low. Even just living a successful life is rare to begin with.

Consistent with that thought, her Saju showed that while she didn’t lack wealth luck, it was on the meager side.

‘Her job… let’s see.’

Since she was in her 50s and fewer women in that demographic work, I assumed she was a housewife. Mothers who were “highly educated” are rare. You can capture that in a Saju reading, and it shows in their behavior.

I analyzed the Saju under the assumption she was a housewife.

Husband luck is strong and powerful? A housewife who is fine just doing chores. Main concern: the children’s future.

Husband luck is weak? A housewife working part-time or at an odd job. Main concern: children’s future + her own health.

Self luck and activity luck are strong? A housewife who works at something. Main concern: money and job changes.

Then, I looked at her appearance again.

‘Her makeup is unusual, and her Saju shows a path in manual skills and small metal tools. But she lacks formal education…’

Saying someone lacks education sounds like an insult, but for older generations, it’s a button that triggers a sentimental response, so I bring it up occasionally. I left out the bit about the “unusual makeup.”

“Your Saju shows a path in manual skills and small metal tools. However, your luck in education is a bit weak.”

“Yes, that’s right. I didn’t get to learn much.”

A slightly bitter expression crossed her face. As expected, you have to lead with the bad news.

“You are a woman born as a plant in the spring. However, you weren’t born in a wide field or a forest, but in a small flowerbed. Furthermore, the owner doesn’t really pull the weeds for you, and even when you try to spread your roots, a concrete road stands in front of you.”

Being a writer creates a synergy when reading Saju. It’s the novelistic structure of the interpretation. By using imagery and metaphors, I create a safety net so that even if I’m wrong, I won’t get grabbed by the collar.

“They did say I was born as Wood.”

“That is why you resent the other grasses growing in that narrow plot of land. You wish they would just get out of the way. If they died, they would become fertilizer, but since you were born after the vernal equinox, the sun is high in the sky. Photosynthesis works well, so everyone grows together. They steal your soil’s strength and your sunlight.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Therefore, this woman rejoices in the hoe and the hand-shovel that would dig up the other vegetation, while also longing for the sunlight that allows at least for photosynthesis. You are like a single sunflower.”

“A flower?”

“Yes, a flower. When you are born as Wood with Yin energy, you are a flowering tree. Your destiny is truly like a single flower amidst the weeds.”

“Hohohoho. That’s nice to hear.”

I just made up the flower bit.

If a woman is born as Eul-mok in her Saju, you just call her a flower, period. You were born as a flower too, Sergeant Park. If I said that, it’d be funny.

“In short, you do work that mixes artistic sense with skill. You seem like someone who does hair or tailoring. Oh.”

“Oh my, you’re saying the exact same thing.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I’ve had my Saju read elsewhere too. Does it really show that?”

The roots of Saju are the same, after all. Everyone looks at and learns from similar books.

However, since those books are ancient texts, many things don’t translate to modern solutions, leading to various theories. But since there are no particularly authoritative scholars, nothing is standardized. An “authoritative scholar” would just be treated as the ‘Boss of Superstition Followers.’

Therefore, the only thing to trust is clinical experience.

The one who has seen the most, knows the most. Or, you learn the secret methods as an apprentice under someone who has seen that many.

“Looking at how much attention you paid to your hair, hm. You must run a hair salon.”

“Yes, that’s right!”

I knew she was a hairdresser.

With younger women today, the range of occupations has widened, making it a headache to guess, but it’s not like that for the 60s generation. If there are manual skills, small metal tools, and a lack of education, it’s usually: A woman who is a good cook, a hairdresser, or a tailor.

As inferred from her makeup, she cares about her appearance. Especially her hair—it had a lot of “strength” put into it. There was a chance she was just a wealthy lady who visits the salon often, but nine out of ten people on the street are just commoners with little money. There was no room to see her as a wealthy “Samo-nim.”

If you narrow it down to a 90% probability and then categorize by Saju, you’ll hit the mark. If her clothes were more emphasized, I would have guessed a tailor, but since they weren’t, she’s a hairdresser.

“Do you know ‘Pretty Hair Salon’ around here? I’m running that. You’re young, but you’re skilled!”

The hairdresser lady got excited and started telling me everything—where her shop was, and so on.

Whew.

Once a fortuneteller hits the mark on a stranger’s personal details, half the battle is won. It looked like I wouldn’t have to return her fee with an apology.

“Well, I’ll continue.”

“Yes, yes. What kind of Saju is it?”

Her self luck and supporter luck seemed to be at a similar level to mine. Supporters gather because they admire the talent and friendliness, but they don’t want to pay any sponsorship money.

When a hairdresser has this kind of Saju, there are usually two common cases.

“How should I put this… hm. It’s a very crowded hair salon. I think a lot of middle-aged women come by.”

“Yes, yes.”

“This is because you, Kim Soon-ok—yes, Soon-ok—basically listen to the other mothers well and respond to them well. You make them feel comfortable. That’s why your salon is so popular.”

“Ohoho, isn’t it?”

“But…”

“Yes, yes, but? What is it?”

I paused slightly. It’s a skill to increase tension. Even in a Saju reading, you need a “cliffhanger” technique.

We’ll be back in 60 seconds. It’s very effective. I should be using this in my novels, yet here I am using it for this.

“It seems there are almost no customers for expensive hair, perms, or magic straighteners. In other words, many neighborhood friends flock there like it’s a community meeting hall, and the salon is full of laughter and conversation, but there are no actual ladies getting their hair done.”

“Oh, well… that’s true.”

“Precisely. Those ladies send their sons who can just get a buzz cut, or they come out after exercising with their husbands to get a cut, and then they sit in front of you badmouthing people while drinking coffee and chatting before they leave.”

Kim Soon-ok’s expression turned serious.

“Wait, does that actually show up in the Saju?”

It doesn’t.

If there were an ancient Saju text describing the scenery of a hair salon, that would be truly miraculous. It’s just that a life where people want the free service but don’t want to buy the paid service… looks like that when applied to a hair salon.

“I let them be because mix coffee and paper cups don’t cost much, but then they ask if there’s no Americano. When you do the math, the cost of the coffee consumed by those women who don’t even get a haircut means you have to take a few more cut customers just to break even.”

“Oh my, oh my, oh my!”

It was similar to my mother’s friend’s Saju. The one whose place I went to for haircuts when I was a kid. I thought all neighborhood salons were like that.

But they aren’t. Apparently, there are ladies who are good talkers and skilled enough that they even bought buildings.

“It’s usually like that for neighborhood salons. But in your case, it’s severe. Because it’s a Saju where you can’t earn money compared to your effort.”

It was full of “same-s*x colleagues” who didn’t bring in money. But the reality is that most commoners don’t have much money to begin with. In this case…

Honestly, I could tell just by looking at her hair and makeup, not her Saju.

“In my opinion, Mrs. Kim Soon-ok, it seems the customers who come to you don’t actually like the styling you provide. It’s obvious they’ve had their hair done elsewhere, but you don’t say anything, do you? You hide your disappointment and talk playfully to keep them comfortable.”

“Yes… yes.”

I didn’t say it out loud, but looking at Kim Soon-ok’s hair, I just got a feeling.

It wasn’t even a style for a woman in her 50s. Perhaps because the neighborhood in this provincial city was aging, the style was stuck in the permed look of grandmothers in their 70s or 80s.

In a word, it looked dated. She put a lot of effort into it, but it looked like “dated style with a lot of effort.”

“You probably pretend to be sulky and shout, ‘Don’t come if you aren’t going to get a perm or dye here!’ You mean it, but you express it well. The other ladies listening just think it’s cute and laugh it off, and while you’re genuinely sulky, you just let it go because they brought you something to eat.”

“Oh, that’s right! No, really, how did you know?”

I was just reciting a story I witnessed while looking at a women’s magazine while waiting for a haircut at another salon. I guess she had a similar episode? When you look at it, people’s lives aren’t that different.

“Ah, is that so?”

“It’s all happened. What should I do?”

What should you do?

Soon-ok probably suspected this deep down herself. She only became suddenly serious because a third-party fortuneteller said it. But it’s not a grave matter, is it?

It’s just a guess based on Saju, but she didn’t seem to have a life-or-death story where her shop was about to be seized or her family was going bankrupt. She just wasn’t making much money.

But gaining a group of people who sympathize with you or your talent isn’t an easy feat in life either. That itself is a Level 5 achievement.

“Well, it’s not that it’s bad.”

“It’s not bad?”

“If it’s strengthened, you’ll earn some money too. With a temporary fortification, if there’s an occasion to receive wedding or funeral gifts, you might get a large sum.”

“It just doesn’t bring in much money right now.”

“Isn’t that the problem?”

“You’re right. Not making money is a problem.”

“Then what way is there to earn money? Master?”

“Hmm…”

“Honestly, everything you said is correct. Those women come and laugh and chatter, bringing food saying they thought of me, and they have a good time. Instead, they make me wash their hair and sweep up hair for them, but they don’t get their own hair done!”

“They ask you to just fix their bangs a bit?”

“Yes, yes! Without paying!”

“But isn’t it because you were the first to say, ‘Hey, it’s fine. No need for money,’ and spoiled them…?”

“That’s true too. Sigh.”

She was a classic person who couldn’t show her greed for money in order to maintain a good social image.

“In truth, given your personality, you can’t kick them out. You can’t be cold-hearted.”

“Exactly! And yet, when they come back with their hair done somewhere else, honestly, I get so furious.”

“Very well. Allow me a moment to calculate the Gae-un method—a strategy of how you should act to receive more wealth.”

I passed it off calmly, but I needed a moment to think.

Calculations, my foot. It’s not that there’s no math in Saju, but I didn’t need calculations. The answer was right there.

‘It’s a grandmother’s perm you’d wear to go to the town center… the problem starts from the fact that you feel you’ve dressed up.’

I couldn’t bring myself to say that out loud. As someone selling a service—talking about flowers and everything—I had built up a good rapport; if I said it looked dated at the last second, I’d be lucky not to get cursed at.