Korean Superstitions: Red Ink, Fan Death, and the Missing 4th Floor

Korean superstitions (미신, mi-sin) are easy to spot once you know them: no names written in red ink, no 4th floor button in the elevator, no 미역국 (seaweed soup) on exam day. Here is what each belief means and the Korean phrases people say around them.

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Written by Alvin Lim Certified Korean Language Teacher (Level 2)

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Every country keeps a set of small rules that nobody can fully explain, and Korea is no exception.

Don’t write a name in red. Don’t give shoes as a gift.

Don’t eat seaweed soup the morning of a big exam. These beliefs are called 미신 (superstition), and even people who laugh at them tend to follow them anyway — which means the vocabulary around them comes up in ordinary conversation far more often than you would expect.

Red ink and the names of the dead

The most famous rule is also the easiest to break by accident: red ink is reserved for the names of the dead, so writing a living person’s name in red reads as a small curse. Sign a birthday card in red and someone will absolutely say something.

미신
mi-sin
superstition
그건 그냥 미신이에요 — that's just a superstition
빨간 펜
ppal-gan pen
red pen
빨간 펜으로 이름을 쓰지 마세요 — please don't write a name with a red pen
재수
jae-su
luck (often used in the negative)
아침부터 재수가 없어요 — I've had bad luck since this morning

재수 없다 literally means to have no luck, but in casual speech it swings much harder — closer to calling something or someone unpleasant. That double life is typical of superstition vocabulary in Korean: half of it has drifted into everyday slang.

The floor that is not there

Step into an older elevator and you may find F where 4 should be.

The Sino-Korean number four, 사, is a homophone of the character for death, so buildings quietly avoid it.

Hospitals and older apartment blocks are the most likely places to see it.

사층
sa-cheung
fourth floor
이 건물은 사층이 없어요 — this building doesn't have a fourth floor

The same logic reaches beyond elevators. Phone numbers and license plates heavy with fours are less popular, and some hospitals renumber wards to avoid the digit entirely.

Nobody treats it as a serious danger — it is closer to the way a Western hotel quietly labels a floor 12A.

If you want to get comfortable with the underlying counting system that makes the pun work, the Korean numbers guide walks through the Sino-Korean set where 사 lives.

Exam-day rules: soup, sticky snacks, and slipping

Korean exam superstitions are built almost entirely on wordplay. 미역국 is slippery, and the verb for slipping is also the verb for failing a test — so the soup is out on exam morning.

Sticky snacks, meanwhile, are in, because the verb for sticking is the verb for passing.

미역국
mi-yeok-guk
seaweed soup
시험 날에는 미역국을 안 먹어요 — people don't eat seaweed soup on exam day
미끄러지다
mi-kkeu-reo-ji-da
to slip; to fail an exam
시험에서 미끄러졌어요 — I slipped up on the exam (I failed)
붙다
but-da
to stick; to pass an exam
시험에 꼭 붙으세요 — I hope you pass the exam
엿
yeot
sticky taffy (a good-luck gift)
친구한테 엿을 선물했어요 — I gave my friend some taffy as a gift
합격
hap-gyeok
passing, acceptance
합격을 축하해요 — congratulations on passing

The polite thing to say to someone before a test is 시험 잘 보세요 (do well on your exam) — never anything involving slipping. Food words like these turn up constantly in daily conversation too, and the Korean food vocabulary list covers the wider set.

Fans, whistles, and gifts you should not give

Two more classics round out the list. The first is the country’s most exported piece of folklore: the idea that sleeping in a closed room with an electric fan running can be dangerous. It is a myth with no medical basis, and these days most people bring it up as a joke rather than a warning.

선풍기
seon-pung-gi
electric fan
더워서 선풍기를 켰어요 — it was hot, so I turned on the fan
휘파람
hwi-pa-ram
whistling
밤에 휘파람을 불면 안 된대요 — they say you shouldn't whistle at night
신발
sin-bal
shoes
연인에게 신발을 선물하지 않아요 — people don't give shoes as a gift to a partner

Whistling at night was said to call snakes or ghosts, and shoes make a bad gift for a romantic partner because the receiver might walk away in them.

Notice the ending in 안 된대요 — the -대요 form reports what other people say, which is exactly how superstitions get passed along in Korean.

You will hear it framed that way almost every time: not “this is true,” but “they say.”

Folklore vocabulary also overlaps heavily with Korea’s summer ghost-story tradition, and Korean summer horror words picks up where this list leaves off. None of these beliefs are things you have to adopt, but knowing them explains a surprising number of small moments — the pen someone swaps out, the elevator button that is missing, the breakfast a friend refuses on the morning of a test.

Frequently asked questions

Why is writing a Korean person's name in red ink considered bad?

Red ink is traditionally used for the names of the dead, so writing a living person's name in red feels like wishing something bad on them. The word for superstition is 미신 (mi-sin).

In practice, if you hand someone a card signed in red, expect a joking 왜 빨간색으로 썼어요? (wae ppal-gan-sae-geu-ro sseo-sseo-yo?

, 'why did you write it in red? ').

Is fan death real, and do Koreans still believe it?

No. 선풍기 (seon-pung-gi, 'electric fan') death is folklore, not a medical fact, and there is no evidence that sleeping with a fan on is dangerous.

It remains one of the most famous Korean superstitions abroad, and many people in Korea today treat it as a joke or as something older relatives used to say.

Why do Korean buildings often skip the 4th floor?

The number four (사, sa) sounds the same as the Sino-Korean word for death, so some buildings label that floor F instead of 4, and some skip it in the numbering. It is the same kind of avoidance as the missing 13th floor in parts of the West, and it shows up mostly in older apartment buildings, hospitals, and hotels.