The Golden Comb

In a small village nestled between gentle hills and a clear flowing stream, lived a young woman named Seo-yun. Unlike many tales that begin with extraordinary beauty or remarkable gifts, Seo-yun was considered quite ordinary in appearance. Her hair was neither particularly long nor lustrous, her features neither strikingly beautiful nor memorably plain. She was simply Seo-yun, the daughter of the village herbalist, who had learned her mother’s craft of healing and helped tend to the villagers’ ailments.

What set Seo-yun apart was not her appearance but her heart. She treated everyone with the same gentle kindness—from the village elder to the dirtiest child playing in the streets. She listened patiently to the elderly as they told the same stories again and again, brought soothing teas to new mothers struggling with sleepless nights, and always had a kind word for those feeling downhearted.

In the same village lived a merchant’s daughter named Hye-jin, whose beauty was as remarkable as her vanity. Her hair fell in a glossy black curtain to her waist, her skin was pale and unblemished, and her features delicate and perfect. Hye-jin spent hours each day tending to her appearance, using rare oils and expensive cosmetics her father brought back from his travels. She owned a collection of ornate combs, mirrors, and hair ornaments that was the envy of every young woman in the region.

Hye-jin was well aware of her beauty and used it to her advantage. She expected special treatment from everyone and surrounded herself with admirers who praised her constantly. She rarely spoke to those she considered beneath her, which included most of the village.

One day, an old peddler woman came to the village, carrying a large pack on her bent back. Despite the warm weather, she was wrapped in layers of faded clothing, and a deep hood shadowed her face. She set up her wares in the village square—an assortment of small items that seemed unremarkable at first glance.

Villagers gathered around curiously, but most walked away without purchasing anything. The old woman didn’t call out or try to entice customers as most peddlers did. She simply waited, her gnarled hands folded patiently on her lap.

Seo-yun, who had been gathering herbs by the stream, returned to the village and noticed the old woman sitting alone. Concerned that she looked tired and thirsty, Seo-yun approached with a cup of cool water from the well.

“Please, grandmother, you must be weary from your travels,” she said, offering the water. “Would you like to rest in the shade of our courtyard? I can bring you something to eat as well.”

The old woman looked up, her face still hidden in shadow. “You are kind, child,” she said, her voice surprisingly melodious for one so aged. “But I must sell my wares before I can rest. Perhaps you would like to see what I have to offer?”

Out of politeness more than interest, Seo-yun knelt beside the peddler’s blanket and examined the items—simple wooden combs, small mirrors, clay beads, and other modest trinkets. Among them, partially hidden beneath a scrap of cloth, she noticed something gleaming. Without thinking, she reached toward it.

“Ah,” said the old woman, “you have a good eye.” She pulled back the cloth to reveal a comb unlike any Seo-yun had ever seen. It appeared to be made of pure gold, intricately carved with patterns of flowing water and blossoming flowers. Despite its obvious value, it was designed simply, with none of the ostentatious ornamentation that wealthy women favored.

“It’s beautiful,” Seo-yun said, then quickly added, “but I could never afford such a thing.”

The old woman tilted her head. “Perhaps not with coins, but there are other ways to pay.” Before Seo-yun could ask what she meant, the peddler continued, “This comb has a story. It is said to reveal a person’s true nature. When used by someone with a beautiful heart, it brings that inner beauty to the surface for all to see. But when used by someone filled with ugliness inside, well…” She shrugged. “The comb simply shows what is already there.”

“That sounds like village superstition,” Seo-yun said with a gentle smile, not wishing to offend.

“Perhaps,” the old woman agreed. “But would you like to try it? The price is only a bowl of rice and whatever herbs you think might ease an old woman’s aching joints.”

Thinking it would at least provide the peddler with a meal and some relief from her pains, Seo-yun agreed. She brought food and a small pouch of herbs, carefully explaining how to prepare them. In exchange, the old woman pressed the golden comb into her hands.

“Use it tonight as you prepare for sleep,” she instructed. “Three times through your hair, no more, no less. And remember—beauty is not always what we think it is.”

By the time Seo-yun had finished explaining about the herbs, a crowd had gathered again in the square, with Hye-jin at its center. The merchant’s daughter had heard about the peddler and had come to see if there might be any exotic treasures worth adding to her collection.

When Hye-jin saw the golden comb in Seo-yun’s hands, her eyes narrowed. “What is that you have there?” she demanded.

Before Seo-yun could answer, the old peddler spoke. “A simple comb, young mistress. Nothing that would interest someone of your refined taste.”

“Let me see it,” Hye-jin insisted, holding out her hand expectantly.

Reluctantly, Seo-yun handed over the comb. Hye-jin examined it with an expert eye, noting the purity of the gold and the exquisite craftsmanship. “How much?” she asked the peddler.

“It is already sold,” the old woman replied, nodding toward Seo-yun.

Hye-jin laughed incredulously. “To her? What could she possibly have offered you that would equal the value of this comb? I’ll give you ten times whatever she paid.”

“Some things cannot be purchased with money,” the old woman said firmly. “The comb belongs to Seo-yun now.”

Furious, Hye-jin thrust the comb back at Seo-yun. “Keep your trinket then. It’s probably just gilded brass anyway.” She stormed off, followed by her usual entourage of admirers.

That evening, as Seo-yun prepared for bed, she remembered the peddler’s instructions. Feeling slightly foolish, she took the golden comb and drew it through her hair three times. The teeth of the comb seemed to warm slightly in her hand, but otherwise, nothing remarkable happened. Somewhat disappointed but not surprised, she placed the comb beside her sleeping mat and soon drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Hye-jin could not stop thinking about the golden comb. The more she dwelled on it, the more convinced she became that she must have it. Late that night, when the village was quiet and dark, she crept to Seo-yun’s humble home. Finding the herbalist’s daughter in deep sleep, she carefully searched until she located the comb. Replacing it with one of her own ordinary combs, she slipped away, triumphant with her prize.

Back in her own room, surrounded by luxury, Hye-jin admired her stolen treasure. “If this comb truly reveals beauty,” she whispered to herself, “imagine how radiant I will appear!” Without knowing the proper instructions, she ran the comb through her long, beautiful hair again and again, imagining how she would outshine everyone the next day.

Morning came, and Seo-yun awoke to a strange sensation. Her body felt somehow lighter, her movements more graceful. When she went to wash her face in a basin of water, she gasped at her reflection. Her ordinary features had transformed. Her eyes sparkled like stars, her skin glowed with health, and her smile seemed to radiate warmth. Yet strangely, when she looked more closely, her features hadn’t actually changed at all—they were still her own familiar ones. Somehow, though, they now came together in a way that created a quiet, luminous beauty.

Confused, she noticed an unfamiliar comb beside her sleeping mat—an ornate silver one that certainly wasn’t hers. Suddenly understanding what had happened, she sighed but decided to go about her day as usual. She would return Hye-jin’s comb when she saw her.

As Seo-yun walked through the village that morning, people stopped and stared. Many didn’t recognize her at first, then did a double-take.

“Seo-yun? Is that you?” asked the baker’s wife. “There’s something different about you today. Are you feeling well?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Seo-yun replied with a smile.

Throughout the day, villagers commented on how beautiful she looked. Some even said they had never properly noticed her before. What puzzled Seo-yun was that no one could pinpoint exactly what had changed. It was as if they were seeing her truly for the first time.

Meanwhile, a very different scene was unfolding at the merchant’s house. Hye-jin had woken to screams from her maid. When she rushed to her mirror, she shrieked in horror. Her beautiful features had twisted into a grotesque mask that reflected all the spite, jealousy, and cruelty she harbored within. Her skin appeared blotchy and sallow, her expression permanently fixed in a disdainful sneer.

“What has happened to me?” she wailed, clutching the golden comb that lay beside her. Understanding dawned with terrible clarity. “The comb! The old woman said it reveals true nature!”

In a panic, Hye-jin wrapped herself in veils and hurried to find Seo-yun, keeping her face hidden. When she located her, she thrust the golden comb at her.

“Take it back!” she cried. “This cursed thing has ruined me!”

Seo-yun looked at her with compassion rather than triumph. “The peddler told me the comb reveals what is already there,” she said gently. “Perhaps what you see in the mirror is not a curse, but an opportunity to change what is inside.”

“How?” Hye-jin sobbed. “How can I undo this?”

“I don’t know if you can undo it immediately,” Seo-yun admitted. “But perhaps if you begin to change your heart, your appearance will follow.”

Desperate, Hye-jin begged, “Help me. Please.”

And so began Hye-jin’s transformation—not of her face, but of her soul. Under Seo-yun’s guidance, she began to perform acts of kindness in the village. At first, she did so grudgingly and only because she wanted her beauty back. She helped the elderly, played with children, and assisted Seo-yun in preparing medicines.

Gradually, something unexpected happened. Hye-jin began to find satisfaction in these acts of kindness. She discovered the pleasure of making others smile, the warmth of genuine gratitude, and the peace that comes from thinking of others before oneself.

As the seasons changed, so did Hye-jin—both inside and out. The grotesque features that had so horrified her slowly softened. Though she never regained the cold, perfect beauty she had once possessed, something more valuable took its place. Her face became animated with genuine emotion, her smile warm and real, her eyes bright with empathy rather than calculation.

The golden comb, meanwhile, vanished as mysteriously as it had appeared. One morning, both young women discovered that it had been replaced with ordinary wooden combs. The old peddler was never seen in the village again, though some claimed to have encountered a similar figure in distant towns, always with a golden comb among her wares, always seeking those who needed its particular magic.

Years later, when travelers passed through the village, they often remarked on the unusual number of beautiful women living there. Not beautiful in the conventional sense that would turn heads in the royal court, but beautiful in a way that made people feel warm, welcome, and valued. Leading these women were Seo-yun and Hye-jin, now inseparable friends who had created a community where inner beauty was cultivated as carefully as the healing herbs in their garden.

And if anyone asked about their secret, they would simply smile and say, “True beauty is not what you see in a mirror, but what you feel in your heart and show through your actions. That is the only magic anyone needs.”