May the Congressman Bless Us - Chapter 19

A shabby building had a sign reading Sisters’ Silbi precariously hanging above it.

It was one of the few pubs in Saneum Township that served proper side dishes with drinks.

Cha Jaerim turned to Goo Young-jin and asked, “How do you know this place?”

[How could I not? It’s my regular spot. Even after becoming a congressman, I made sure to stop by here for a drink whenever I visited my constituency.]

“Ah, I see.”

[The place was run by two sisters, but the younger one passed away the year the Olympics were held. Now the older sister runs it alone.]

“You must have known the owner well, then.”

[She’s ten years older than me. A few months before I passed away, she did too, and I attended her funeral. I suppose she’s still alive now.]

Goo Young-jin chuckled at the irony of his own words.

“You went to the owner’s funeral?”

[What’s so strange about that? I’m a person too, aren’t I?]

“I don’t know… You just strike me as someone who’d weigh the political benefits even for a condolence visit.”

Goo Young-jin paused, then laughed awkwardly.

[Now that I think about it, aside from her, I did calculate benefits before attending other funerals.]

“The owner must’ve been quite special to you, then.”

[She was, at least to me. But I doubt she ever realized that. The current her wouldn’t dream that the dead Goo Young-jin has hitched himself to you just to come here.]

The bar was quiet.

Farmers who had indulged in daytime drinking were just about to wrap up and head home before sundown.

Goo Young-jin glanced at them, recognizing their faces.

[Those are the village chief’s childhood friends.]

“Do you know the faces of everyone here?” Cha Jaerim asked in a low voice, audible only to Goo Young-jin.

[Not everyone in this area, but those guys always hang out with the village chief, so I know their faces.]

Cha Jaerim smirked slightly at Goo Young-jin before stepping inside.

“Hello.”

At his greeting, the Sisters’ Silbi owner looked up at him.

“What’s a young man like you doing here alone?”

“Is coming alone not allowed?”

Cha Jaerim asked in a friendly tone, making her chuckle.

“As long as you pay, I don’t care if you come alone or with someone else. Sit wherever you like.”

Goo Young-jin tugged lightly at Cha Jaerim’s sleeve.

[Sit in that corner room over there.]

“Is it alright if I sit there?”

Cha Jaerim pointed to a small, barely visible corner room.

“Well, aren’t your eyes sharp? That’s a spot for someone important. How’d you know?”

“Haha, it just caught my eye.”

Cha Jaerim brushed it off with a vague response.

The small room with its sliding door was practically Goo Young-jin’s private space.

Whenever he wanted to drink alone, undisturbed, he’d always choose that spot.

Given that the restaurant rarely had a full house, the room was almost never used for customers except when Goo Young-jin visited.

The owner found the situation amusing and readily gave her permission with a laugh.

“Alright, sit there. So, are you here for drinks or a meal?”

“I’ll have a drink with some side dishes.”

The owner grinned at Cha Jaerim’s answer.

Goo Young-jin folded his arms, looking around the room with a distant expression.

[Ah, it’s been a while. A long while. Just before I died, I started reminiscing, and this place’s pollack stew came to mind. If I’d had a bowl of rice with that stew before dying, I might not have become a vengeful ghost.]

Usually quick with a sarcastic remark, Cha Jaerim stayed silent. Goo Young-jin’s face was heavy with nostalgia.

Respecting the moment, Cha Jaerim refrained from interrupting.

After a short wait, the owner, who was nearly seventy by 1998 standards, came in with a precariously balanced tray, her back slightly hunched.

Cha Jaerim quickly stood to take the tray from her.

It was heavy even for a young man like him.

“What drink will you have? Soju?”

“Yes, please bring me soju.”

“I’ll bring the first bottle…”

“I’ll help myself after that.”

The owner chuckled at how smoothly Cha Jaerim understood her.

She handed him the soju casually, and Cha Jaerim took it with a smile.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

“So, where are you from? Never seen you around. Outsiders hardly come here.”

“Haha, I think you’ll be seeing me more often.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? I just asked where you’re from.”

The owner pouted slightly before closing the door with a click.

The small, enclosed space was soon filled with the rich aroma of the dishes on the tray.

Goo Young-jin sniffed the air vigorously, but when no scent reached his senses, he let out an exasperated sigh.

[Damn it! My sight and hearing are fine, so why the hell aren’t my sense of smell or taste working?]

“Good question.”

[Shouldn’t ghosts at least be able to smell and taste if they’re going to enjoy the offerings left for them?]

“That does sound fair.”

[Stop acting like this doesn’t concern you!]

“It doesn’t, though?”

[The most important quality for a politician is understanding and empathy. Got it? Even though you’re not a ghost, you should understand and empathize with a ghost’s plight if you want to be a great politician.]

“Would you say you were a great politician, then?”

[…]

When Goo Young-jin didn’t respond, Cha Jaerim smiled faintly.

“Like Master like Disciple. How can I hope to be a great politician when I learned everything from you?”

[Just eat your damn food.]

“Yes, sir.”

Cha Jaerim glanced at the food and couldn’t help but swallow.

The owner of Sisters’ Silbi had an unmatched knack for cooking.

Even during Goo Young-jin’s lifetime, he would sometimes stop by here for a meal, even without an appointment, just to satiate his lack of appetite.

The side dishes were simple.

A few kinds of seasoned vegetables.

Boiled squid.

Two pieces of pollack, with roe, simmered into a stew.

And a bowl of rice piled high.

That was it.

Goo Young-jin, who had prided himself on being a connoisseur, had tasted all kinds of fine cuisine—Western, Chinese, and Japanese delicacies. Yet none of them could compare to this humble meal.

Cha Jaerim savored the food, feeling a rare sense of contentment.

For him, a proper homemade meal like this was a luxury he hadn’t enjoyed in years.

Living alone in a rooftop studio, he usually made do with instant noodles, a few slices of bread, or a boiled egg if he was lucky.

A full meal like this? It had probably been five or six years.

He polished off the rice in no time and was nibbling on the boiled squid, sipping soju in between bites, when the previously quiet room burst into a commotion.

The only sound before had been the faint murmur of the soap opera the owner was watching, but now the air was filled with loud voices.

Among them, Cha Jaerim recognized one.

“Alright, folks, loosen your belts! Let’s eat like kings tonight!”

It was Chief Eom’s voice.

Goo Young-jin snickered.

[Said he was heading home, but looks like he came here for a team dinner without you.]

Cha Jaerim downed his drink with a wry smile.

Chief Eom’s voice grew louder, brimming with bravado.

“Auntie! Serve us something so good we’ll die happy!”

“You always talk about eating and dying, but you never die and just keep crawling back here!”

“I’m trying to make sure you earn lots of money by buying more food!”

“You rascal. You always take more rice and side dishes than you pay for. There’s nothing left after you’re gone!”

“That’s the charm of country life, isn’t it? The spirit of rural hospitality!”

“Hospitality, my foot! You’re not even from around here, so don’t lecture me about rural life.”

“If I live in the countryside, I’m a rural person. Is that a title or something?”

Through the thin paper doors, Goo Young-jin glared at Chief Eom’s large silhouette.

[That punk’s acting like he owns the place. Back when I was alive, even I wouldn’t dare mess with this owner.]

Goo Young-jin was fuming.

As a living legend, Goo Young-jin had respected the Sisters’ Silbi owner as an untouchable force.

But now, this nobody was strutting around like it was his personal domain.

And his antics didn’t stop there.

The next target of his bravado was none other than Cha Jaerim.

“We’re in a state of emergency, people! You all know that, right?”

A sharp voice chimed in agreement. It belonged to one of Cha Jaerim’s senior colleagues from the civil affairs, five years his senior.

“What do we do about this? It’s always the Seoul guys messing up and dumping their problems on the provinces.”

“What’s done is done. We need to unite and come up with a strategy. Got it?”

“What’s your suggestion, Chief?”

Chief Eom was the most senior member of the Saneum Township Office after the township head and deputy head.

Clearly, he fancied himself the boss of the local civil servants.

“With guys like that, if you let them gain confidence, it’s over for you.”

“So we should crush their confidence?”

“But don’t push too hard, or they might go hang themselves again.”

Cha Jaerim’s brow furrowed.

‘Hang themselves again? …Is he talking about me?’

And he was right.

“Then what should we do, Chief?”

“That’s where the art of subtlety comes in, kid. Have you heard this saying?”

“What saying?”

“Tokugawa Ieyasu of Japan once said, ‘Peasants should neither live nor die.'”

“What does that even mean?”

Chief Eom responded in a pompous tone.

“It means we need to keep Cha Jaerim in exactly that state. If we outright crush him, he’ll throw a tantrum and cause a big fuss. But if we let him thrive, he’ll act like the world belongs to him. Neither extreme is good.”

“I think I understand what you mean. So what’s the specific plan?”

“Pretend to treat him well on the surface, so it doesn’t show. But make sure to subtly give him a hard time.”

“Subtly?”

Chief Eom nodded.

“Quietly overload him with work. Block access to important information. Don’t smoke with him. Let him get properly chewed out by the locals.”

“Until when?”

“Until he realizes his situation and crawls back on his own.”

“Will it be safe by then?”

“Once he’s completely worn out, it’ll be safe. Until then, everyone needs to stick together and stay firm. Got it?”

The other employees silently nodded in agreement.

They likely weren’t thrilled about it, but refusing would mean clashing with Chief Eom.

Between siding against Cha Jaerim or against Chief Eom, betraying the powerless Jaerim was the obvious choice.

Cha Jaerim wasn’t particularly upset with the silent accomplices, but he couldn’t forgive Chief Eom.

Jaerim quietly sipped his drink and whispered to Gu Youngjin.

“Should I just burst out and yell at them?”

[What would that change?]

“At least they’d realize I’m not someone to be messed with.”

[Sure, that fat Eom would be startled at first. Getting caught scheming like that is embarrassing. If he has even a shred of decency, he might feel some shame. Plus, you’d make it clear you’re not an easy target.]

“No need for such a long explanation. I get your point. The satisfaction would only last a moment.”

[Exactly. That fat Eom’s strategy is to make you an unofficial outcast. But if you storm out now, you’ll become an official one.]

“I know, I know. I’m just frustrated.”

If Chief Eom had only been talking to a handful of his close associates, Jaerim might’ve stormed out.

But the entire staff, except Jaerim, was present. Their silent agreement made them all complicit.

Walking out in such a setting would be nothing short of suicidal.

For now, Jaerim could only quell his bitterness with a bitter drink.

Then.

“Chief, don’t you think you’re being too much?”

A clear and firm voice silenced the faint murmurs of agreement.

The voice was articulate and confident, belonging to a young woman.

Jaerim’s ears perked up.

Goo Youngjin chuckled, amused.

[Oh-ho, is this the Joan of Arc of Saneum?]