Chapter 47: A Pact of Serenity

As I turned my back, Wishstone settled familiarly onto a barstool.

“You came right away,” I said.

“Well, I practically dumped my dimension’s problem on you, so I was worried…” he replied.

“Problem? I gained more than I gave.”

“You’re very considerate. I’m also curious about your thoughts on visiting my dimension. But where’s that one?”

The whir of the blender grinding ice filled the café.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that over the noise.”

“That one. The one who went with you…”

“Oh, the white snake.”

Glancing at the door, I met the snake’s eyes—its sleek, white head peeking in, staring longingly.

It was obeying my rule to stay outside, but its pitiful gaze made me look away.

“It’s doing fine. It’s in the garden now.”

“I thought it’d be inside with you,” Wishstone said.

I flinched, guilt pricking me.

“Well… there’s a kid who’s scared of it, so I had no choice.”

The pig-bird was skittish. Feeding it each morning required ensuring the snake was nowhere near.

It got along with the cats, so was it the lack of fur?

“I see. Kids come first. It’ll understand,” Wishstone said.

That “understanding” snake was pacing by the door, sending me pleading looks.

“Here’s your jewel berry smoothie. You asked about my visit?” I said, redirecting the conversation.

I couldn’t let Wishstone’s kindness sway me into softening toward the snake.

“Yes, was it a pleasant trip?”

“Absolutely delightful. Your dimension brims with vitality, and the residents are all virtuous. What amazed me most was that they’re all artisans! Honestly, if I hadn’t found Frostbloom, I’d have aimed for their pottery. Their wares were that impressive.”

“The offerings they craft are remarkable, filled with devotion. I always want to repay them.”

When Wishstone visits, I stand with my back to the bar—rude to other guests, but necessary for him, as he can’t move if I look.

Clink. The sound of glass on stone rang out.

“You must be tired from the trip. Did you rest enough?” he asked.

“Yes, I rested well.”

“I thought you’d keep the café closed longer. You worked non-stop in my dimension.”

“That’s nothing. Closing the café too long hurts in many ways, so I keep moving.”

Wishstone paused before responding.

“Hmm… Let me ask this: what did you do when you returned?”

I didn’t know why he asked, but I answered dutifully.

“I expanded the garden for Frostbloom, tended crops, cleaned the café…”

I had a strong hunch no guests would come, so I closed early but didn’t sleep. I prepared for the next day.

“And today?”

“I planted Frostbloom’s seedling, built a greenhouse, fed the pig-bird, walked it, did laundry, cleaned… Just a normal start.”

Clink. Glass hit stone again.

“When do you rest? You’re always busy,” Wishstone said.

“I don’t need a whole day to rest. My work isn’t that taxing.”

“I sense urgency in you. I think you keep yourself relentlessly busy. I hoped you’d find leisure in my dimension.”

“Really?”

Was it a difference in perspective?

In Korea, this workload was normal. Compared to before, life here felt like a vacation.

Before coming here, I juggled two part-time jobs on weekdays, three on weekends. It was the only way to save money.

I didn’t go to college, but I wanted my sister to attend a good one. Mother’s hospital bills, lingering loans…

“I have a goal I must achieve, so I can’t afford to dawdle.”

Rest is poison. Once you rest, you’ll crave more.

“I understand. You want to return to your dimension…” Wishstone set his glass down with a clunk, his voice heavy with concern. “But you’ll burn out. A sick heart sickens the body.”

“I believe hard work brings rewards. If it speeds my return home…”

“Finding your dimension’s god is a long-term journey. You feel like glass about to shatter.”

Emotion surged, but I suppressed it. I couldn’t show feelings to a guest.

Wishstone’s concern felt excessive.

I wasn’t struggling. This was my norm—always busy, even before coming here.

Why should I be worried for doing what I’ve always done?

“Yun-ah, why not rest a bit?”

A friend’s voice flashed through my mind.

My hands tingled, and I hurriedly dismantled the blender, starting the dishes.

Work was the best way to banish stray thoughts.

“New environments, uncertain futures, unfamiliar situations—they exhaust you. Only you can protect your inner self,” Wishstone said.

“I’m used to this. You’re worrying over nothing. I’m fine.”

When did I start living so busily?

Our father died in an accident early, so Mother raised my sister and me alone.

She was often away working, so from kindergarten, I practically raised my sister. Seeing her sleep exhausted after work, I gave up on college.

After high school, I took any job to support the family. As the healthy one, I felt I had to be the provider.

If I’m able, I must strive.

I tried every kind of job. Those experiences helped me run this café, however imperfectly.

Some suggested stable jobs, but with my high school diploma, good positions were out of reach. My sister needed care, so part-time jobs I could fit around home visits were my only option.

My body adapted to a 12-to-6 rhythm because of this.

Was it hard? My body was tired, but my mind was blank—too busy for pointless thoughts.

That was better. Earning money was more efficient than self-pity.

If a day had 48 hours, I could’ve earned more.

Work left no time for friends, except one from elementary school. Our similar family struggles bonded us.

After graduation, we’d occasionally meet late, sharing a beer and stories. Looking back, I cherished those moments.

I had no father; he had no mother after a divorce.

His father turned violent post-divorce, tormenting him through school. Even as an adult, he confided in me over beers.

“Yun-ah, I need advice.”

“What’s up? Your dad again?”

That day, a week before his obituary text, he’d wanted to talk.

I assumed it was about his father, as usual.

If it was so bad, he could’ve left as an adult. But he stayed, fearing his father would be alone.

I found that frustrating. His father relied on his earnings, living recklessly with gambling debts.

Like me, he skipped college to work, living even busier than I did.

Normally, I’d listen to his repetitive worries. It was easy.

But that day, I was too tired, and his complaints felt burdensome. He never took my advice anyway.

“I’m busy too. Yijin wants to attend a cram school.”

I brushed him off, thinking we’d meet again, share beers, and repeat the cycle.

But I got his obituary text instead.

“Yun-ah, I need advice.”

It might’ve been a cry for help.

I was the only one who could’ve saved him, but I failed my only friend.

He was kind and fun, making most of my happy memories. I haven’t fully accepted his death. I was thrown here before I could grieve.

The sudden shift disoriented me, but running the café let me forget.

As Wishstone said, new environments, uncertain futures, and strange situations block negative thoughts.

“Maybe I’m not entirely okay. But this is how I live. Hard work drowns out bad thoughts.”

“I understand. Still, enjoying the present with some leisure is good. How about a favor? I’ll offer something helpful.”

“A favor?” I turned, then quickly faced away.

“It’s fine. My glass is empty,” Wishstone said, smiling gently, hands clasped like in prayer.

“You liked my residents’ pottery, right?”

“Yes, food in beautiful dishes tastes better.”

“I’d give you all of them, but moving too many items across dimensions disrupts causality, causing issues. You’ve taken single items before, so gods could handle the imbalance.”

Why bring up the pottery then?

“But equal exchange is fine. If you give something equivalent to my dimension, it’s balanced. I’ll help with the trade.”

I thought choosing Frostbloom meant giving up the pottery. A chance to get those exquisite dishes?

“First, you must do my favor.”

“Anything possible, I’ll do!”

What could he want?

“It’s simple. Start cultivating your mind. I was a mere stone, but prayers made me a god. Prayer has incredible power. I hope you find peace through self-directed prayer.”

“Mind cultivation?”

“Yes, take time daily to calm your mind without work. Enjoy a hobby, or just sit still. Silence offers more than you think.”

“That’s easy… Is that really the favor?”

It sounded like a call to relax.

“Yes. But during this, don’t worry about the future. Promise to keep that. When you’re ready, I’ll discuss the trade.”

“I’ll try.”

A peculiar request indeed.