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Summary
Jisung was warned about the hill exactly seven times. Which was about five more than necessary for a legend that was probably not even real.
“Don’t go up there.”
"Nothing good comes from that place.”Jisung had nodded politely, because that’s what one did when villagers got that look in their eyes that suggested either deep-rooted superstition or a terrible story they were dying to tell.
The truth was less fantastical than the local legends. He’d never discount magic, but the stories about dragons that snatched up children tended to fall apart under scrutiny.
In all his years, he had yet to find one that held up. Exaggerations passed down through the years until not even the elders could tell you where it came from.
Far in the distance, he could see the spires of a castle. Odd. None of the villagers had mentioned that.
“Just a little further.” He adjusted his bag again and continued up the hill, ignoring the little voice inside his mind insisting he would regret this.
Or
Jisung climbs a cursed hill looking for mushrooms and accidentally gets adopted by a lonely dragon guarding a heartbroken flower. Unfortunately for him, the dragon is very pretty.