# Chapter 7: The Tiger’s Tail and the Storm at the Door
Hello everyone, it’s me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you through Chapter 7 of *Honey in The Wound free digital audiobook*. This is one of those chapters that tightens its grip slowly, then leaves you holding your breath at the edge of the page. So settle in, because the mountain home of Geum-Jin and Jung-Soon is about to become far less safe than it once seemed.
The chapter opens in Cheongju under the shadow of occupation. The Japanese raids have turned ordinary life into a cruel lottery. Homes are damaged, valuables disappear, and people vanish without explanation. Families are left with nothing but rumors: prison camps in the north, forced labor in factories, shallow graves in the mountains. The local jail has long been full of accused dissidents, so grieving mothers and fathers who dare to ask questions are pushed away from police stations under threats of disappearing themselves.
The market itself has become a place of mourning. Sobs and whispers are its music. People drag their feet, lamenting losses, speculating about the fate of loved ones. In the middle of all this, Jung-Soon works with the women of Cheongju, quietly resisting in the ways available to them. Geum-Jin, meanwhile, tends the garden and cares for the children. He does not love the danger his wife walks toward, but he admires her dedication to her people. So he helps where he can: carrying messages to neighboring towns, guiding political refugees through the mountain forest, doing everything possible to reduce the risk to Jung-Soon and ease her burden. He whispers reassurance to her, trying to smooth the worry from her face. After losing happiness once before, he is determined to protect what he has now.
Geum-Jin’s greatest joy is his children. Young-Sook has her mother’s voice and poise. Young-Ho has her determination. And in Young-Ja, Geum-Jin sees something of himself: the compulsion to give everything to the people she loves. It is both a blessing and a curse. He notices it in the way she pours herself into food, into every dish, into every act of care. He knows that one day the family will taste her sorrow or her anger, too. All he can do is prepare to weather those moments beside her.
He also wonders how obvious his own childhood truths must have been to his parents, and feels a pang knowing they will never see his beautiful babies. To keep the memory of his mother and father alive, he teaches his children the mountain world. When he shows them how to identify a plant, he remembers his mother doing the same for him and his sister. When he weaves rope or whittles, he passes down his father’s careful techniques. At night, he tells the old stories: the wily kumihō, the nine-tailed fox who becomes a woman to trap foolish men; the grateful magpies who save a scholar from a giant snake; the farmers who outwit an impish dokkaebi and win rare treasures. He turns his parents into the heroes of those tales, weaving their traits into every narration. Sometimes he works Geum-Ja into the stories as well, hoping his sister found a happiness in the wild equal to the one he found in his family.
Young-Ho and Young-Ja usually choose the evening’s story, while generous Young-Sook yields to her siblings. Some nights they demand favorites. Other nights they want something new. But always they ask for a long story, hoping to delay sleep. Geum-Jin teases them with a girl who had loooong hair and a loooong skirt, and a boy with a loooong nose, until Young-Ho giggles and Young-Ja protests. Then he tells the serious tale of the tiger who tries to trick a brother and sister so he can eat them. The children are too clever for him and escape into the woods. The tiger chases them until they flee into the sky and become the moon and sun.
By the end, Young-Sook and Young-Ho are asleep. Young-Ja remains awake, staring up at her father’s crooked nose. She whispers that she does not want to sleep. What if a tiger comes for her in the night and she cannot see him? Geum-Jin holds her to his chest and tells her there are no tigers coming. Most left Joseon a long time ago. When she asks why they went away, unease bubbles in him as he remembers his twin’s parting words. He suspects tigers have been hunted to extinction, but he does not say that. Instead, he tells her brave fathers scared them away, and that he will always protect her from danger. Young-Ja lays her head on his shoulder, her breath settling into a steady beat.
Then the chapter shifts into a scene of tender domesticity that twists into dread. Young-Ja accidentally cuts her finger while slicing onions. The acid stings the wound, and she cries out. Young-Sook comes gliding into the kitchen with the water gourd, just as their grandmother once taught them. She tells Young-Ja to hold her finger tight, pours water over the cut, and then has her blow on it. Young-Sook gathers honey and cloth, applying a thin layer of honey just as their father taught her, and he learned from his mother. She wraps the finger, kisses it gently, and hums. She then asks Young-Ja to go to the market with Uhmuhni instead of her, because Young-Ho has lost his bowl and is having another tantrum. Young-Ja agrees, though she secretly loves being tended to by her older sister.
Jung-Soon and Young-Ja leave once Young-Ho has calmed. To distract Young-Ho from his lost bowl, Geum-Jin suggests a walk around the woods to forage for the season’s edible plants. Young-Ho perks up and runs to dress himself. But when Geum-Jin slides open the door to step outside, two police officers in black are waiting in the yard. He pushes his children behind him and nods a silent greeting. They do not return the courtesy. They ask if he has seen any young men in the woods, claiming some students burgled a landowner’s home. Geum-Jin musters his stilted Japanese and says no, that people do not come to the mountain often, it is too high. The men sneer at his awkward speech and call him a liar. Cold sweat dots his neck.
Young-Ho tugs at his father’s pants, wondering why they are not leaving. Before Geum-Jin can stop him, the boy peeks out from behind the door and stares at the police. Young-Sook runs to pull him back, revealing herself as well. The police demand everyone step out where they can be seen. One officer eyes Young-Ho with special curiosity. Geum-Jin holds his arm out in front of Young-Sook, but she grabs her brother’s hand and steps out onto the walkway anyway. The officer points his baton at Young-Ho and asks what is wrong with his face. Geum-Jin stiffens and asks them to leave if they have no more business. The police smirk at his imperfect Japanese and say they do have business.
They push Geum-Jin aside and barge into the house, tracking mud onto the clean floors. Young-Ho falls back and starts to bawl as the men rummage through their belongings, wrenching drawers out of chests and toppling vases. The police yell at Geum-Jin to shut up his brat. Geum-Jin places himself between the police and his children and gestures at Young-Sook to take her brother outside. He turns to the men, trying to steer their attention away from the destruction. He offers them anything, just asks what they are looking for. They ignore him and continue their rampage.
When they reach a stack of Jung-Soon’s books, they pause to flip through them, hoping to find reason to arrest the Chōsenjin and his dirty little children. But most are Japanese-language books on commerce and agriculture, nothing incendiary. They slam the books down and move to the large wardrobe. They fling open the doors and pull out clothes, blankets, and other items. Among the discarded things are Geum-Ja’s tiger tail and the soldier’s pistol Geum-Jin had wrapped in cloth and hidden long ago. Worried the police might inspect the bundle and discover the contraband, Geum-Jin kicks it under a pile of clothes. He then picks up the tiger tail and offers it to the intruders. He tells them there is no money here, only this. He thrusts the tail at the men, saying take it, please, no other money.
The police stop ransacking to inspect the tail. One says it is not a bad find, since tigers have not been seen around there in a while. His companion says it would fetch a decent price at the market, and no one has to know they got it on the job. They look at each other as if confirming they will find nothing else interesting. They take the tail and step outside, leaving a shaken Geum-Jin with a final word: he is lucky they are not in the mood to listen to crying brats today.
Once the police disappear into the mountain forest, Geum-Jin runs to embrace his son and daughter. Young-Ho wails into his left side while Young-Sook holds on to his right in silence. He does not release them until they let go first, suggesting they restore order to the home before their mother returns. They finish tidying up by the time Jung-Soon comes back from the market with Young-Ja. Young-Ho runs outside and buries his face in his mother’s stomach as soon as he hears her approach. Jung-Soon and Geum-Jin exchange looks as a trembling Young-Sook recounts what the police did. Geum-Jin brews root tea to calm the family while Jung-Soon comforts the children with the sweetest reassurances her voice can muster.
Once the children are asleep, Jung-Soon and Geum-Jin step into the dark outside to deliberate. He shows her the old pistol he saved and says he is going to start carrying it. He also thinks they should leave the house for a while, maybe the police will lose interest if they cannot find them. Unwelcome visitors boded ill. It was unlikely their home had been found by chance. They live high enough in the mountain that outsiders would not know the location unless told, and no one would make the taxing ascent without reason. Their home was designed to be reached by intent only. Their only visitors were Jung-Soon’s teatime guests. Political resistance benefited from the invisibility of poor, older women, and the Cheongju police seemed too arrogant and lazy to stalk old women into the mountain.
Jung-Soon does not want to think outright betrayal is possible, but she concedes that under the right pressures, a desperate mother might be coerced into the unthinkable. Her mind races through all the women she has hosted over the years. Each had been courageous enough to risk everything, but no one was without vulnerabilities. Every person had attachments and families that could be used against her. Still, pointing fingers would do little good now. Whatever the cause, Jung-Soon cannot afford to dwell on it. She needs to act swiftly to protect her family’s peace. And so she resolves to visit her father for the first time in over a decade.
Jung-Soon has not called on her family since the day she left to wed Geum-Jin. Once she tasted a life free of their disdain and unsavory wealth, she no longer wished to be associated with them or their close dealings with the Japanese. Nothing had tempted her to knock on the door of the Song manor since her departure, and the lack of regard was reciprocated. But this direct threat to her children makes it impossible to ignore the possibility that her father could wield his influence to stave off the raids. She plans to visit Song-sajang.
But she does not get to visit him as planned. For six armed Japanese men appear at their door the next morning.
Cheongju, Chōsen, Empire of Japan, 1931. Morning sunlight pools in the yard. Its glow reflects off boots stomping in the dirt, rifles rattling in tense hands. No clouds cast shadows on the chickens scattering or the children running to hide behind their father in the garden. The light sheds its warmth on all standing beneath it. The two policemen from the day before have returned, joined by four armed soldiers in tan uniforms. This parade seems excessive. Geum-Jin wonders why such a show of force is warranted for an unassuming family in the woods. Tyranny thrives on spectacle, but there is no neighborhood audience in the mountain for whom to perform. No one else to spook into obedience lest they be the next target.
Sweat drips down Geum-Jin’s temple, collecting at the bottom of his chin. He stands in front of his children with his arms stretched out, trying to occupy as much space as possible to shield his babies. One of the police shouts at everyone to line up and receive their visitors. Young-Sook and Young-Ja each clasp one of their brother’s hands behind their father. Jung-Soon emerges from the house, stray hairs loose around her face from a rushed bun she had been pinning in preparation for town. Ice slides down her spine at the strange Japanese voice. Despite the fear spreading in her chest, she does not allow it to enter her voice when she demands to know why the men have come.
A stocky, mustachioed soldier smirks. He says he had heard rumors of a rebel leader in the mountains, but all he sees are an ugly dog and her feral little runts. He points his bayonet at Jung-Soon and tells her to stand by the others while they search the house. She glides out slowly so as not to betray her panic and stands with Geum-Jin to flank her children. Two soldiers keep guns pointed at them.
And that is where Chapter 7 leaves us: with the family lined up in the sunlight, armed men at their door, a hidden pistol somewhere under a pile of clothes, a missing tiger tail paid as a bribe, and Jung-Soon’s desperate plan to seek her father’s help now hanging by a thread. The chapter closes not with a resolution, but with a door kicked open and a threat aimed straight at the heart of the family.
## Reader’s Impressions & Star Rating
What struck me most in this chapter is how beautifully it balances tenderness and terror. The storytelling scenes with the children, the honey on Young-Ja’s cut, the old folktales, the memory of Geum-Jin’s parents—all of it makes the home feel warm and real. That warmth makes the police raid feel so much more violating. You can feel the mud on the floor, hear the vases shatter, and see Geum-Jin trying to stand between his children and men who see them as less than human. The chapter also deepens Jung-Soon’s quiet strength and the moral weight of resistance. Her decision to return to her father after more than a decade is a powerful turn, and the cliffhanger with six armed men is perfectly timed. This is a chapter that hurts in the best way and makes you desperate to know what happens next.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.8 / 5 Stars
## Next Chapter Prediction
The next chapter will likely begin exactly where this one ends: with the six armed men searching the house and the family trapped outside at gunpoint. I suspect the hidden pistol will become a terrifying focal point. If the soldiers find it, Geum-Jin could be arrested, tortured, or killed. If they do not, the family may still be forced to flee the mountain home. Jung-Soon’s planned visit to Song-sajang may be interrupted or transformed into a dangerous negotiation. Her father may refuse her, demand something unbearable in return, or reveal that he already knows more about the raids than he should. I also think the theme of betrayal will return, and someone from Jung-Soon’s network may be exposed as the one who led the police to the house. Most of all, I expect Geum-Jin to make a desperate, protective choice—one that could separate the family or force them into hiding in the mountain forest. The tiger may be gone from Joseon, but the real predators are standing in the yard.
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