「⚠ Precautions」

※ Please note that this introduction may not perfectly align with the basic prompt or lorebook, as it was created with the help of generative AI.

※ The explanations of the four-character idioms such as 「Gyogaksalu (矯角殺牛) 𓃽」 and 「Geojailso (去者日疏) ⏱」 in the introduction below are not essential, so you do not need to read them to play the plot.

※ Please note that the 'Difficulty' setting in the 'Style' function of this plot is set to 'Hard,' and only the 'Location' and 'Situation' items in the background status window and the 'Inner Thoughts' item in the character status window are active.

※ The recommended profiles provided in this plot are not mandatory. The basic prompt includes detailed descriptions of Guest, so please be careful when using profiles other than the recommended ones.

※ The 『Sosagak┇燒思閣』 lorebook contains the past stories and interpretations of the characters and the past of Guest, so please be wary of spoilers.

※ there is no set way to enjoy this plot. Every story you progress is the right answer.

---

Gyogaksalu (矯角殺牛) 𓃽

To kill the ox while trying to straighten its horns. The ancient teaching of the idiom Gyogaksalu is a warning against the foolishness of harming the essence and losing something great while trying to fix something trivial out of excessive greed.

If one forcibly interferes because they cannot tolerate a minor flaw, the resulting calamity is a deserved price they must bear themselves. Was there truly a reason to change it? What did you hope for by reaching out so recklessly to set it right, and did the result truly bring you satisfaction? As the author, I find it difficult to fathom.

Looking back, the word 'fix' itself contains a deep contradiction. The act of fixing presupposes that the state prior to fixing was an 'error.' Then, what does it mean to be 'wrong'? If it belongs to the realm of physical objects, there is no room for debate. For instance, if a compass loses its duty to point south and leads a traveler astray, it is clearly broken and must be corrected.

However, when reaching the realm of invisible metaphysical concepts and essences, the logic changes entirely. Since there is no form, how can every person's internal definition be the same?

By way of analogy, if you ask people to imagine a 'triangle,' they will all draw a shape enclosed by three sides. But when it comes to the length of those sides, the color, the size, and whether it is equilateral or isosceles, the imaginations of a thousand people will differ, and no two will perfectly match. Furthermore, a human's momentary thought cannot stay still for even a second, constantly transforming and distorting, making perfect alignment nearly impossible.

If even mathematically defined shapes are like this, what more can be said of the deeper, more distant world of abstraction? It has no fixed purpose or trajectory to fulfill; it is neither wrong nor broken. Therefore, the duty or necessity to set it right does not exist in the first place.

As the saying Gunjamubon (君子務本) goes—that a virtuous person should strive for the essence and the root—one must not rashly attempt to leave that foundation. Nevertheless, you insisted on uselessly painting over it, so is it not a natural consequence that you paid a heavy price?

Who among us has lived life without committing such an error of Gyogaksalu and experiencing devastating regret and lamentation? Yet, all the worries and failures of the world are but a passing wind before the medicine of time. No matter how noble or valuable a sentiment, as time flows, it is bound to wither and vanish like winter petals scattering in a harsh wind. For that is the stern logic of nature and the irreversible order of humanity.

---

Geojailso (去者日疏) ⏱

Those who die or leave grow distant from memory as the days pass. The ancient teaching of Geojailso is a warning that reminds us of the providence of Sapilgwijeong (事必歸正)—that no matter how deep and sticky a connection was, its afterimage eventually fades in the flow of eternal time.

No matter how much you loved and cherished someone, if you can no longer see their face, they become nothing more than a passing reason in the violent countercurrent of fleeting years.

Looking back, 'memory' is not a tangible object that exists physically. It is merely a phantom of the mind, constantly reconstructed and ruminated upon in the current 'sea of the brain' from the shapes of the past.

The reason we long for days gone by or lament while clutching our current chests by pulling up fragments of the past is not because we sense the actual past itself, but because we are merely responding to the phantoms reconstructed in our current minds.

Thus, memories originating from the past are inherently variable and fickle; sometimes they become sharp thorns causing cold pain in the heart, and sometimes they become warm breaths bringing a gentle smile.

These properties of memory are like the logic of Yin and Yang, containing the attributes of all things that can never be separated, like two sides of a coin. Painful memories of the past do not just emit sorrow; they provide lessons and wisdom to govern the life to come. Paradoxically, memories of heart-fluttering happiness can only shine when the foundation of bitter pain is presupposed. As the saying Hwabokdongmun (禍福同門) goes, calamity and blessing are one body that enters and exits through the same door.

Therefore, I pray to keep and preserve even a single piece of the past and memory in my heart with all my sincerity, without recklessly discarding it. This intention serves as the foundation for a desperate wish to reach a state of equanimity in the present life—unshaken by the countless fluctuations of the world and not swept away by the emotions of the boundaries and phenomena before my eyes.

Unfortunately, many in this world treat these memories and the past like trivial objects, trying to easily categorize and excise them. Without knowing the value of the contents or the deep circumstances inside the box, they merely look at the packaging, recklessly dividing sections and stuffing them into crates. Thus, they cruelly sever previous ties or even struggle to erase the traces of those precious memories without a sign. As explained before, since the past and memory cannot be divided by the dichotomy of good and evil or right and wrong, they are neither wrong nor a broken state that needs to be fixed.

Therefore, the price of forcibly erasing or plotting to fix memories that do not even need fixing is not the salvation of sweet oblivion, but is no different from destroying the last and only evidence that proves one's own existence.

It is the loss and erosion of the pain that supports human dignity. A human who has truly forgotten pain is not an immortal saved from trials, but merely a hollow shell, deprived of even the right to feel the pain they ought to enjoy and experience.

Therefore, when quietly ruminating on the teaching of Geojailso, to use the scissors of artificiality to forcibly excise distant connections and faded memories, or to plot to cram them into the furnace of oblivion, is a foolish deception and a futile arrogance that goes against the order of all things.

Naturally, a mature human should fully entrust their meager body and agonizing spirit to the great wave of sacred and fleeting time that flows leisurely. How can one, with the short insight of a momentary life, dare to judge and alter the scars and legacies of the past? Entrusting oneself to time is by no means a weak surrender, but the wisest and most reverent attitude of humbly accepting the majestic providence of life.

Is that not truly the teaching of Muwi-jayeon (無爲自然), the profound truth of Lao-Tzu and Zhuang-Tzu? When one does not forcibly tend to or artificially dig up, but entrusts oneself to the majestic flow of nature, all the afterimages of joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure and the painful memories held deep in the heart will melt away like lingering snow in the warm spring sunlight, gently seeping into the dregs of time and finally finding their place.

Thus, breaking the chains of forced artificiality and conforming so that memories melt and naturally fade within the flow of indifferent time is the true logic of reaching complete salvation through emptying—the most noble and right path that a human with a soul ought to walk.

---

Sosagak (燒思閣) 𓊽

Sosagak (燒思閣) is truly a lonely eaves where those suffering under the weight of their own scars seek refuge, a dwelling of dark silence that willingly pays the price of that karma in their stead.

They sought shelter under the eaves of Sosagak to escape the sudden rain that approached as if fleeing, but they were utterly unaware that their own souls were being soaked and deeply submerged in the rainwater.

This cozy yet distant space called Sosagak is a place that incinerates the painful memories of the weary souls who knock on its door into ashes. Inside the red charcoal fire of the furnace burning brightly in the center.

However, it is not just the wounds and resentment of the past that are burned and vanished into smoke; perhaps they have thrown their own future selves, which were trying to bloom like flowers atop those wounds, into the flames as well.

At this moment, you are staying as the sentry guarding the furnace in this sorrowful shrine. You need only fulfill your duty to politely greet and guide the souls who visit this place, souls who seem vaguely familiar as if you have seen them somewhere before.

If you ask why someone like you came to be engaged in the work of shaking out the ashes of the furnace in such a distant place... well. If you had truly known the reason and the root, you wouldn't have been trapped working in this darkness in the first place. The ultimate question you must eventually solve is hidden within the stern logic of nature, but at least this much is a clear fact.

At this very moment, in what time are you standing? And exactly what kind of mistake and deed did you commit to end up staying here?

---