The Kind Sister Who Spreads Good Rumors

Mrs. Kim Soon-ok’s Saju was fundamentally kind and benevolent.

She probably treats her own children a bit harshly, but to her acquaintances, she is likely seen as a friend who is fun, generous, and talented—though lacking in “sense.”

If she could just fix that lack of sense, she’d probably be able to amass a decent amount of wealth…

But if I were to speak too bluntly, even if the words were true, anyone would get a bit sulky. Even if the advice is right, people don’t act on it if it comes from someone who made them feel bad.

‘You’re a writer. Think. How can I tell her her style is tacky without hurting her feelings?’

My tactic of pausing to build tension was working, but I had nothing to say.

Suddenly, I recalled the location of the “Pretty Hair Salon” she mentioned. Next to City Hall.

I remembered the press releases I’d seen on the City Hall website while looking for public service part-time jobs. And I combined that with her lack of “Education Luck” and “Mother Luck.”

From these fragments, I drew a single, uncertain conclusion.

“By any chance… do you go around doing volunteer hair-cutting for the elderly?”

Mrs. Kim Soon-ok was so shocked her skin practically crawled.

“Pardon? How… how on earth did you know that?”

I was even more surprised than she was.

Holy crap, I guessed right.

If she had said no, I was going to pivot and say, “Your Saju shows a benevolent destiny that should do volunteer work,” or “Why don’t you try volunteering?”

“This Saju has a high probability of losing a mother early. The Mother Luck is frail and deficient.”

“My mother… passed away when I was a child.”

“I… I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping I’d be wrong.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“May I continue?”

“Yes, please, tell me more quickly! How did you know? I’ve seen many fortunetellers, but not one of them ever said that to me. This is the first time I’ve heard it. You are truly gifted.”

I just took a shot in the dark, ma’am.

“You spend a lot of time doing good deeds for others that don’t bring in any money.”

That was the only thing I could truly read from her Saju.

“Doing volunteer work” specifically is hard to deduce from her chart. Usually, frequent volunteering is linked to Religious Luck, which Soon-ok lacks.

However, her salon is near City Hall in an undeveloped area with a high elderly population, and City Hall had been recruiting volunteer hairdressers for press release photos. Since her shop is right there, I figured a civil servant customer might have suggested it to her. She’s the type of person who wouldn’t say no to such a good deed.

“Do I have to keep living like this? My kids are going to college, my husband is retiring, and money is tight in so many places…”

Kim Soon-ok’s voice became desperate.

Now was the time. The moment for bluntness.

As a fortuneteller, advice and directness are only effective once you’ve built up significant trust. And there is nothing more effective for building trust than correctly guessing the life of a complete stranger.

“How about trying to give the grandmothers a younger style? Just like the styles you give the customers who are the age of your daughters.”

No matter how dated her own style was, surely she wouldn’t do that to the younger customers who occasionally stopped by.

“What? Oh, the ‘moms’ hate that, though.”

The way she called complete strangers “moms” allowed me to indirectly feel her deficiency. People always give hints in their speech.

“Would they really hate it? And Mrs. Soon-ok, you have the ability to make those grandmothers smile.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your Saju is specialized in making friends and those weaker than you feel happy, entertained, and comfortable. Honestly, if you’d had ‘Education Luck,’ you would have been great as a counselor or a teacher.”

“Everyone always says that to me.”

“You can play that role perfectly in a hair salon too. Just try styling those ‘moms’ like younger people. I can’t say you’ll have a destiny to earn massive wealth, but…”

In other words, she had only received validation from the elderly ladies.

Because she received that validation, she was happy and kept doing their hair that way. In reality, the grandmothers didn’t complain because she cut their hair for free. Because it was “grandma hair,” the middle-aged women hated it. They liked her as a person, so they went there to hang out, but they avoided getting their hair done.

The only thing I could do for a person with this Saju was to offer a different kind of validation. To tell her what she is good at.

“If you live kindly, blessings will come, even if they are a bit late. It seems you’ll be working even as you get older. If you work past your 60th birthday, you’ll actually handle some decent money. Enough to buy your son a house when he gets married.”

If she changed her style now, she’d earn a few more bucks today.

If she persisted, she’d likely end up with a salon popular among the elderly as she aged alongside them. To put it bluntly, I was telling her she’d be standing and working even in old age, but she truly did have luck in her later years.

I ended it there without being too direct, leaving the choice to Mrs. Soon-ok herself.

*************************

“You really are good. Wow, I thought Saju was only for people in hanboks or very old grandfathers.”

“You flatter me.”

“Soon-ok ‘Unni’ was praising you until her mouth went dry. That Unni loves going to shamans, but she said she’s never seen someone as gifted as you.”

Well, I wonder if it’s just because charging 30,000 won for a lifetime reading, or 50,000 won including spouse and children, is just really cheap.

I don’t catch the basis of a Saju interpretation entirely from Myeongli science; I mix in general humanities, trivia I picked up while writing novels, and real-life case studies.

Adding statistics to my appraisal, I don’t yet have the skill to boast of being a master. Though, I must admit, reading the Saju Fortification Record has opened my eyes a bit more.

‘Is it because they’re middle-aged ladies? Maybe they just enjoyed a young guy humoring them and calling them “flowers.”’

I received 11 customers from Mrs. Soon-ok’s hair salon.

They all left chatting about how accurate and “gifted” I was. If it were just one or two, I wouldn’t be sure, but since they all said it, I couldn’t tell if they were just playing along or if I was actually right. Since no one refused to pay the fee, I assumed I was doing okay, but it was still fascinating.

“I’m going to become a middle-aged woman specialist at this rate.”

I don’t have a large sample size for middle-aged women. They are a group that is typically hard to encounter.

I just observed how my mom, aunts, and her friends lived. And since I have no set schedule as a writer, I watched morning dramas and KBS1 programs aimed at housewives. Their worries are similar, and their solutions are similar.

“Well, that’s why they hang out with Mrs. Soon-ok.”

My mental energy is spent after reading for these ladies.

Like Mrs. Soon-ok, I have a desire for money but find it hard to show it, so I got haggled into oblivion by their sharp tongues.

‘Now I see why Mrs. Soon-ok can’t make any money.’

The third customer wanted a discount after getting readings for her whole family of four. I was going to charge 120,000 won—then “special discount” 100,000!—but ended up doing it for 80,000 won.

And for the 11th lady, I read for her and all her children; I got 60,000 won for three people. One for 30k, two for 50k, three for 60k… that was the pattern.

This is my first time doing real business, so I don’t know if this sales strategy is right. Since only people introduced by Mrs. Soon-ok have come so far, it’s impossible to charge some people less and others more.

“My goal is collecting Saju points, not the money anyway. Though, having money is obviously better.”

I hadn’t ignored the idea of a “high-volume, low-margin” strategy, but if you quote a fee too low, people doubt your credibility more easily. Even with the introduction from Mrs. Soon-ok, quite a few people were skeptical until I correctly guessed what kind of life they were leading.

Ah, there was a market where people flocked for free readings or a single bowl of ramen. The military.

[Collected the Saju of 2,520 people.]

[Since you have acquired wealth by listening to and solving the troubles of women, you can now strengthen Jaeseong Luck dwelling in Fire and Fire-related fortunes.]

Having reached 2,520 people through the Saju of the ladies, their children, and their husbands, I could now invest in Jaeseong Luck.

It literally means wealth and money-luck, but it also covers Father Luck and Woman Luck. If a father lives well, one inherits a silver spoon; and since the divorce rate for men earning over 10 million won a month converges to 0%, they are linked.

My Wealth Luck level is low.

It’s not non-existent or negative, but it’s not high either. It’s like a candle on a rowboat in the middle of the ocean; if a storm hits, it’s in peril. Consequently, my level is on the lower side.

I took a look at the fortunes under Jaeseong Luck.

“Regular and Floating Wealth Luck are both Level 1… there really isn’t much.”

Both wealth lucks were at Level 1, and activating Level 2 would open these fortunes:

[<Regular Wealth Luck / Earned Income LV2>]

[You buy the items you want at a low price. Or, you can haggle for a lower price. However, whether the haggling works depends on the other person’s wealth luck.]

[<Floating Wealth Luck / Windfall LV2>]

[You reap a small profit from moderate investment gambling. Because your “vessel” isn’t large, you cannot make big bets in the first place, and your luck isn’t very large to begin with.]

I didn’t like either of them.

The levels were so low that I couldn’t feel the performance. Wasn’t “buying items you want at a low price” something possible normally? Have I been getting scammed and paying full price for everything my whole life?

Level 1 Regular Wealth Luck was: “You have the knack for avoiding overcharging and peak seasons.” That’s a luck I already have.

“It probably means ‘I don’t have the assets to afford overcharging and peak season prices.’”

I looked at other fortunes. In Jaeseong Luck, there is Father Luck.

[<Father Luck LV1> 321/400 (Fortification Possible)]

[Dad doesn’t hide his pocket money.]

What on earth is this?

Currently, Father Luck is Level 1. It says my dad doesn’t hide his pocket money. If there’s no luck at all, or if the level drops below 0… I guess Dad hides his money. Then again, I don’t usually ask, but if I said, “Give me some money, Pops,” he’d usually pull out a few bucks.

[<Father Luck LV2>]

[Your father does not fall seriously ill, or has insurance, reducing the reason for the child to be burdened by medical bills. While the father’s illness is determined by his own fortune, at the very least, the probability of onset is appropriately reduced.]

“Hmm, this seems good. A life where parents are sick is a headache.”

Among the customers from Mrs. Soon-ok’s word-of-mouth was a daughter taking care of a mother with dementia; her question, “When will my mom die?” really made my heart sink. That customer actually envied Mrs. Soon-ok for being motherless.

I could raise Wealth Luck or Woman Luck, and there was a small income. In a situation where I was strapped for cash, even that small income wasn’t something to ignore.

I was thinking of buying a new laptop. One where the B, J, and D keys worked properly.

And for Wealth Luck, I need at least Level 6 in both Floating and Regular Wealth Luck to hit Level 11 in Residential Luck. That’s the tech tree. Level 1 won’t cut it.

Realistically, for a castle, land, or tower to appear—unless you literally go to war—you need wealth to exchange and maintain them.

So, without a second thought, I was about to click Wealth Luck, but then I thought of the gloomy voice of the lady asking, “When will my mom die?” I couldn’t ignore Father Luck.

“Fine. Dad needs to live a long, healthy life. I can click for money later. Let’s raise Father Luck.”

[Father Luck has reached Level 2.]

There’s nothing I can immediately confirm with Father Luck. He’s supposed to get a national health checkup soon; it would be nice if they said he didn’t need to take his medicine anymore.

“Done. Stay healthy. Well, they say if you max out Father Luck, your dad hands you a country. It’ll be fun to keep raising it.”

If you max out Father Luck, your dad hands you a country. I bet that’s a luck only someone like the third generation of the Kim family in the North is born with.

Suddenly, a message was heard.

[Among all the fortunes in the Jaeseong Luck tab, you chose your father’s health first, over money and women. You possess a filial piety that moves the Heavens.]

I was flabbergasted by this additional message. I’m a son who doesn’t do what his father tells him and just sits around writing stories, so I never thought of myself as a filial son. Feeling embarrassed, I asked back.

“Pardon? I mean, uh, Emperor Fuxi? Jesus? Buddha? Master Myeong-seung? Do I have some kind of special achievement?”

I asked into the air, and it answered my question perfectly.

[Since you have acquired the Holy Virtue of Heaven, you can now strengthen Cheon-eul Gwi-in (Heavenly Noble). Please press the Sin-sal tab to strengthen it.]

“Ah, it was Cheon-eul Gwi-in?”

Cheon-eul Gwi-in is a mysterious effect in Saju.

Those who have a strong one are followed by heavenly luck. A very powerful “back” (connection) appears in human society to watch their rear, and a benefactor always appears in times of crisis—a benefactor who helps actively without expecting anything in return.

So… to exaggerate a bit…

It’s like being Sailor Moon and having Tuxedo Mask appear in a crisis. Or having a series of “coincidences” that don’t feel like destiny, like a “passing scholar” constantly helping you. In a novel, it would be escaping a crisis despite a lack of probability; having absolutely nothing but becoming friends with a powerful person who then watches your back.