Cheoseo 1787 (7th)
The rooster strutted slowly around its domain, eyeing the flock pecking away in their enclosed corner of the courtyard. It fluffed its feathers, throwing out its chest, standing even straighter to show off its majesty, confident that it alone held sway over its kingdom. Footsteps ran up. Its pride promptly lay in ruins as the flock leaped in swift response to the shower of grain that flew through the air. Its comb bloomed redder in displeasure at the disruption. It glared at the usurper before squawking in outrage when a large downpour of grain was heaped on it. Flapping and shaking itself thoroughly to get rid of all the grain, it crowed its defiance as the boy laughed, empty bowl in his hands.
"P'adoa, you can tease that fellow on another day, come over here with the bowl," said Yunbok at the vegetable plot, a small pile of cucumbers at his feet. "Bring these in to omoni," he said as he put them into the bowl P'ado held out.
"Aboji, are we going to the market later?" the boy asked anxiously.
"Yes, after we have finished with rites here and visit your omoni, go on." Yunbok waved him away before turning back to picking the best samples from the vegetable plot. "Watch out!" he called when he saw a foot coming down on a gourd. Too late. "Aigoo, master, you're trampling rather than picking," he said to the older man who lifted his foot curiously. Pieces of squashed gourd clung limply to the sole of his jipsin as the other half dropped off.
"That's one of P'ado's endeavors, isn't it?" Suk-kwon scrapped the crushed vegetable from the sole on the ground and picked up the surviving half. "It looks as small as he is," he laughed, waving the remains of the unfortunate gourd about.
"One with better results, I must say," Yunbok, grinned, nodding towards the fence where an untidy row of small gourds hung valiantly among their larger cousins. He bent down to gather up a few, checking that they were presentable. "He's looking forward to making his offering."
"Where shall I hide the evidence of my crime?" Suk-kwon said jovially, looking about before throwing the remaining gourd in the direction of the fowls which made quick work of the unexpected morsel just as P'ado exited the kitchen. His eyes lit up when he saw Yunbok adding the small gourds to the basket of muskmelons.
"Aboji, one is missing?" he said after squatting down and doing a count of the gourds in the basket and on the fence.
"Are you sure?" Suk-kwon asked cheerfully.
"I know how many I planted, I count them everyday. One is missing, ajoshi." P'ado searched the rows of gourds carefully as the adults eyed each other. Yunbok frowned at Suk-kwon, silently mouthing words he did want to say aloud.
"Ah..erm, I'm afraid I accidentally crushed one just now, P'adoa," Suk-kwon admitted. The boy had been very dedicated to raising his litle patch of vegetables that it seemed crass to fib or spin a tale over a missing fruit.
"Where is it now?" the boy looked at the rows of vegetables.
"I gave it to the ducks." Suk-kwon wondered if the boy was going to erupt into a temper for there was a deep frown on his face.
"Then you must recompense me," Pa'do declared as Yunbok regarded him curiously. When did he learn the word?
"Aigoo!" Suk-kwan exclaimed. "What would you like?"
"A staff like aboji's," P'ado said seriously.
Suk-kwon stifled his grin and asked solemnly. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Learn to fight with it, like aboji," P'ado announced, almost adult-like as he gazed steadily back at Suk-kwon. Yunbok turned away at the sight, pretending to examine the vegetables.
"He learned the staff for defense, not to pick fights with other people," corrected Suk-kwon, deliberately making that distinction.
"I also want to learn to defend myself," the boy declared and broke his little adult stance by grabbing Suk-kwon's sleeve. "Ajoshi, I really want to learn, like aboji learned from you," he tugged pleadingly.
"All right, but you have to follow exactly what I say."
"I promise!" P'ado said with delight before he grabbed the basket of maskmelons and gourds and bore it away to the kitchen.
"Not a word of objection?" Suk-kwon asked curiously as Yunbok tested the last few watermelons of the summer. All of which felt the same to him as he tried to pick the heaviest.
"What is there to disagree with? He'll be better at it if he starts young," said Yunbok as he weigh the watermelon he had chosen. "It will occupy him when he's restless. This one's good, I think," he handed it to Suk-kwon who checked the stalk and nodded.
"Did you teach him that word 'recompense'?"
"No. I don't know where..," Yunbok paused as a thought struck him. Wasn't he talking something about that recently to Jeong-hyang?
"How can I refuse old master Han? Hyangya, be reasonable," he pulled at her sleeve entreatingly.
"You made it sound like I am a harridan. That's even worse," she huffed.
"That's not what I meant." He tried to turn her back when she looked away. "We won't be late. Aigoo, you want me to beg?"
"All right then, how will you recompense me?" She turned back to him, grinning teasingly when he frowned at her, her arms went around his neck.
A sound broke them apart. They turned to see P'ado standing wide-eyed behind them at the porch.
"I can't sleep," was all he said when he saw them looking at him.
"Well?" Suk-kwon wondered at the abashed look on Yunbok's face. What had he been up to?
"He probably overheard us one night when we were talking out by the porch." Yunbok turned back to his task, avoiding Suk-kwon's curious gaze. "We'll be late, we'd better hurry."
Working steadily up and down the rows of vegetables. With P'ado running to and fro, the best of each type of fruit and vegetables were picked and taken to the kitchen. When all was done, they shifted to the kitchen to further sort the pickings. The rice cakes and sweets were swiftly carried out to the low table set at the daecheong while more care was taken with the soups. The kitchen was a bustle of activity, with much to-ing and fro-ing. P'ado was especially pleased to see his gourds on the offering table. The spirits and ancestors would be pleased with his efforts, he was sure. Most of the food was already set out: fruits, miljeonbyeong, wine, neatly stacked yakgwa, gangjeong and tteok. His stomach rumbled at the sight but he resisted the temptation to touch. A shuffle of footsteps brought him around. Time for the ritual.
The candles were lit, cups of wine were individually dedicated, deep bows were taken before the rice bowl was uncovered. Everyone turned away to sit at the porch while the incorporeal partake of the offerings. P'ado could not resist asking questions about the staff. When would it be ready, what would it be made of, how long was it going to be. Jeong-hyang was puzzled that Suk-kwon was going to give the boy lessons in martial arts. Didn't Suk-kwon indicate the boy should be older before giving him any lessons? Why did he change his mind?
The questions could wait, she wanted to rest after cooking from since dawn. Yunbok smiled in sympathy at her as he massaged her hands, his back turned to the other two as he listened to Suk-kwon's replies. It was hard on her. Most of the household chores fell to her after Ae-young married Chang-sun a few years ago. He and Suk-kwon came to an arrangement to take turns at cleaning to alleviate her burdens. Her hands were like his; rough and chapped. How often he had wished they were able to lift their living conditions to that of Jungin. There would be servants to do the cleaning and she could take her ease. She nudged him in the side. He looked up to meet her gaze of reprove. As always, she could tell what he was thinking; harboring fancies which would not see the light of day. He smiled wryly as he grasped her hands to him.
Heart of my heart, there's nothing I can hide from you, is there?
Gentle humor glinted in her eyes as she touched his face. After a while, deeming that appropriate time had passed, they got up and went to the offering table. The bowl of soup was exchanged for sungnyung. Another intermittent of waiting before the table was moved to the kitchen where some of the wine, meat and fruit were shared out. P'ado was disappointed he could but take a little sip of the wine. There was barely anything to taste as he rolled his tongue in his mouth. The rest of the cooked food was put on a large soban and brought to the daecheong (main hall). The byeongpung (folding screens) was folded away in a corner and the candles put out. Then came the part he liked most of all; plenty of tasty food to eat and everyone having their meal together.
The cleanup after the meal went faster with additional hands to help in the kitchen. Once they were done, Yunbok had P'ado washed his face and hands and sent him out to wait at the courtyard while he helped Jeong-hyang prepare the chanhap (food basket). Suk-kwon went to the back of the house to bring down and pack the scythes. Bored, P'ado decided to see what the rooster was up to.
It eyed him suspiciously as he came up to the enclosure. Grinning, he clucked softly at it as it looked at him, unconvinced he was part of the flock. Whereupon, he squatted down, pretending to peck at the soil, wagging his arms and shuffling around. After a moment, not liking the mockery, the rooster attempted to chase away the imposter and bounced off the fence. Undeterred, it flapped its wings and made it over the fence after a couple of rushes. Quick as a flash, P'ado leaped to his feet and led the rooster on a merry chase around the courtyard, ducking past clothes hung out on the lines, books spread along the porch, flying past Jeong-hyang as she exited the kitchen with the chanhap.
"Aigoo! At it again!" Yunbok said as he slide closed the doors of the daecheong. "He never seems to tire of it."
"He never learns, does he?" observed Suk-kwon, watching the boy's nimble skips to avoid the rooster's beak and claws.
"What, P'ado?"
"That fellow of a coxcomb!"
"P'adoya," Jeong-hyang called, shaking her head at his antics but smiling at the same time.
"Right then," said Yunbok, darting forward to catch hold of the rooster as P'ado led it past him. "Back to your kingdom," he said to the squawking indignant red-faced rooster, depositing it back in the enclosure.
"I outbeat him, again!" P'ado whooped, full of boundless energy after the lively exercise, skipping up to Jeong-hyang as she beckoned.
"Come along," she said, bending down to wipe the sweat off his face as he laughed up at her, reaching to take hold of her sleeve as they set off.
They went down to the creek, crossed over and up the trail into the hills. The coolness of the day made the trek to the grave easier. Grasses and weeds had sprouted over the mound so Yunbok and Suk-kwon set to work trimming them down and effecting repairs. About and around the hill, families from the villages were also tidying up the graves their relations. Once the grave mound was tidied, offerings were set out, everyone took their bows and the customary ritual was carried out.
P'ado fingered the carved words of the tombstone. Ever since he had come to understand why he had another omoni, he had tried to bring up some visual memory of Min-soo but it was vague as it had always been. All that was left of her was the pendant she left to him, memories of songs and warmth. Where was his father, he wondered, for the umpteenth time. Min-soo could only spare whatever strength that remained to her to tell Yunbok and Jeong-hyang his intended name and bequeathed the pendant. Was he alive or dead?
Omoni, do you know where he is? Why did he leave us? Where did he go?
"P'ado."
He looked up to see Yunbok standing a little way down the trail, Suk-kwon and Jeong-hyang were moving away in the distance.
"We have to get to the baekjungjang, don't be too long."
"Yes, aboji."
Till Baengno, omoni, I'll be back then.
P'ado patted the tombstone and ran after to catch up to Yunbok. Further down, they joined groups of other people who had finished their rituals at the gravesites. They clotted into a relatively large crowd that streamed into the south-east. Most made stops at the waterfalls for a wash but the threesome and the boy continued on. Before they reached the baekjungjang, sounds of the Jungwon in full swing could be heard before the noisy and bustling market came into full view.
Music from the nongak nearly drowned out the murmuring roar from the mass of people. Those nearer the nongak danced and sang to the beat, giving rein to their desire to enjoy themselves in the pre-harvest thanksgiving after the intense farm work, rains and summer heat of the previous months. With prayers offered for a plentiful harvest, there was hope and anticipation.
They skirted the crowd, making for the market pavillion where Jeong-hyang had arranged to met up with Ae-young. Several get-togethers were also occurring here as the pavilion was often used as the banbogi between mothers and married daughters. Greetings were exchanged when they spotted Ae-young with Chang-sun, his brothers and their wives. The women hailed one another cheerfully before they left together for the swing area. Left to their own, the others made their way to watch the myriad of activities that were going on.
Ssireum (wrestling) matches among the representatives from the surrounding villages drew the most number of men. They shouted encouragements or busied themselves in placing their bets as fast as possible. On the outskirts of this stellar attraction, elderly men sat at the jumak, smoking their pipes and exchanging news and views as they watched the janggi matches and played chess all at once. An occasional a firm "Jangiya!" could be heard, followed by "Guniya!". Murmurs of advice was handed out to the younger players which was mostly taken readily in the desire to effect a victory. Those unable to get into the jumak gathered outside with their own game board of gonu drawn on the ground while most of the boys congregated with other adults to watch the performances put up by the namsadangpae. P'ado paid special attention to the acrobatics, wishing he could emulate the youngsters who performed with such ease.
At a corner outside the jumak, bets were being taken for the ongoing weaving contest among the participating villages. The result of which would only be known in Chuseok. Yunbok declined to place a bet though Suk-kwon and the Joon brothers opted to try their luck. He could not see the point of losing money on a result that could swing either way. Looking at the number of bets was no help either, it was even for both teams. Their bets placed, they made their way to the ssireum matches, leaving P'ado at the namsadangpae performance with the promise that he would not wander off elsewhere. Yunbok wondered how Jeong-hyang was doing. Given a chance, he would rather be at the swing than watched men heaved at each other.
The subject of his thoughts was enjoying herself immensely, listening to the chatter of the women as they sat near the stream, sipping boksunga-hwachae (peach punch), snacking on miljeonbyeong (wheat cripes) and tteok (rice cake) they had brought to share with one another, watching the young girls and women taking turns on the geunettwigi (swing), trying to outdo one another in the competition. Laughter and shrieks of excitement filled the air. Ae-young kept a close watch on her five year old daughter as she ran around with the other girls, with an ear open to the gossips and gripes bandied about. The women kept their complaints light as this was a day of celebration and did not even try to offer well-meaning advice to Jeong-hyang.
This pleased Ae-young. As far as she knew, her friend who she regarded more as a sister, did not seem distress that she had not borne a child. That she was content with P'ado was clear. Besides, it had already been so many years, what other remedies could they come up with? Sometimes though, she felt Jeong-hyang's forbearance with the more snide remarks from those insensitive few, admirable. But then laundry days were often when they could air their grievances and a few could not resist picking on others. She tried to be as kindly as Jeong-hyang but it could be too much some times and she would rally to her friend's defense with the others.
She perked up when the talk turned to story-telling. This was one of the benefits where Jeong-hyang's efforts in educating the girls were truly appreciated for now, the older women were able to enjoy the tales read or related to them by their daughters as they went about their chores or relaxing in the evenings. A discussion sprang up on the tale of Kuunmong. Everyone pitched in with their opinions. The hours flew by. It was late afternoon when the gathering broke up. As arranged, they met the others at the Baekjung-jang and proceeded to browse among the stalls.
It was noisy. Vendors shouted out their wares at the top of their voices in order to be heard over the murmurings of the browsing crowd. The sight of so many people was bliss to the vendors who hoped to make a good profit. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, mixed with the subdued aroma of cooked food. Jeong-hyang moved off with P'ado to check over the stalls selling miscellaneous goods while Yunbok wandered around with Suk-kwon.
They stopped at a stall selling bows and arrows. Suk-kwon perused the arrows keenly, examining each sample. Yunbok was fascinated to see a gakgung hung up behind the stall owner. Such bows were usually for military officers.
"That's a family bow," said the stall owner, noticing his gaze.
"It is impressive," Yun-bok nodded, desiring to try the bow but did not think the stall owner would be receptive to the idea. It was slightly too large for him and it was unlikely he would be able to pull it. Still, he wished there was a chance to see it in action.
"From Jindo?" Suk-kwon held out an arrow tipped with brown goose feathers and flashed a plaque at the stall owner. "I'll take these," he said, picking up a tied bundle of the same product when the stall owner nodded in affirmation and proceeded to bargain.
Yunbok felt his sleeve tugged and looked down to see P'ado grinnng up at him, pointing towards Jeong-hyang who was looking in his direction, peering through the crowd. When she saw she had his attention, she beckoned. As he made his way to her, he realized she intended to buy shoes.
"I have..," he began to say as she held out a pair of jingsin.
"Which is wearing down as we speak." She thrust out the shoes at him insistently until he took them, feeling the slick oily surface before bending to try them on. "I don't know what is it with you, you never seem to notice you are almost going about barefooted."
"I'm not blind, it's just that there isn't any need to get new ones when I can still wear the shoes," he said mildly, handing the shoes back, "these are fine. New ones for P'ado too?" He looked over the shoes on display. "Don't forget yourself while you're at it." He glanced down at her feet of which he could see nothing since they were hidden by her chima.
"I've already gotten mine." She waved a pair of brownish black jingsin with hobnails on the sole before picking up a smaller pair of shoes and bending down to P'ado. "He's growing." The boy beamed at that statement and took the shoes from her to try on. "He'll have to wear slightly bigger shoes."
"Wouldn't they just fall off, omoni?" He watched as she pressed the tip of the shoe to feel his toes.
"Certainly not so big they would fall off." She searched for another pair which was more satisfactory.
After paying for their purchase, they moved away to other stalls: woodware comprising jewellery boxes and chests, fans and ornaments, ramie and cotton, chae, mats and bamboo blinds, farming tools, ritual vessels, brasswares and so on. Yunbok's load of items grew as Jeong-hyang added a couple of chae and bamboo blinds. At such times, he felt he was merely a convenient mule for her to offload her purchases. If it went on, they would need a bigger mule. He looked around when he realized Suk-kwon was not with them. Probably busy with his own list of things to buy.
At that moment, Suk-kwon was at the peddlars' corner, perusing locks, checking out those that looked well-made. With the lock of the warehouse completely worn away by rust, there was urgent need for a replacement. Was he planning to try every single one, the lock peddlar eyed Suk-kwon, for he had been standing there for some time, fiddling and trying every lock with the keys. He hoped to make a sale so he waited patiently, calling out his wares now and then. A woman stopped to look, there was no space for her to stand nearer so she stood a little distance behind and peered at the locks. Really, would this customer just choose one and move on?
"How much for this?" Suk-kwon held out the lock he had chosen.
"Six nyang," the lock peddlar said without batting an eye.
"For this?" Suk-kwon said incredulously. "Three!"
"Really, sir, that lock is made by a skilled metalsmith whose work is endorsed. You can see the mark at the bottom. Too, I carry these all the way from Hapcheon, surely six is not too much to ask?" the peddlar infused as much plaintiveness as subtly as he could.
"Truly? " Suk-kwon pretended to be impressed as he looked down at the etched mark at the bottom of the lock. No one that he knew. "I sympathise but still, can you gaurantee this lock is as pristine as the day it was made? For all I know, it is already rusting away from your very long journey here from Hapcheon."
The woman behind hid her grin as she listened.
"I stand by the quality of my wares, sir but as a gesture of good faith, seven!" Knowing he may stand to lose, the pedlar quickly dropped the idea of evoking sympathy and headed straight into bargaining.
"Three, as a gesture of my faith in your wares." Suk-kwon said with a note of finality.
"Sir, the quality of this cooked juk is beyond compare!" came the protest.
"How is it even possible to assume just from the sound of nyang?" Cupping a hand to his ear, Suk-kwon pretended to listen hard.
"Five nyang," the peddlar said reluctantly, abandoning the idea of dickering with this glib fellow.
"Three," Suk-kwon returned.
"Five is the best I can come to." The peddlar eyed the woman who was showing signs of impatience.
"Three," Suk-kwon refused to budge. The peddlar gave up at that, afraid he would lose the potential customer behind this stubborn customer.
"Fine, three it is!" He held out his hand for the coins and dumped them into the pouch tied around his middle, not at all displeased since he still made a profit, minimal as it was.
Smiling at the success of his ploy, Suk-kwon turned to go, making sure not to knock into the woman waiting behind him. She glanced at him and stopped short, eyes widening in disbelief and turned quickly as he strode away. Surely she was mistaken, it was not him. But he did look very familiar. As she stared after him, a voice seemed to shout in her ears.
'Why is it not you?! Why her? Curses on you for your meddling!
The lock peddlar watched in bewilderment and disappointment when the woman walked away. Winding carefully through the crowd, she scrutinized that back carefully but could not decide since most people looked alike viewed from behind. It had been years since she last saw him, he was a young man then. He stopped at a few stalls, looking over the wares before moving on. She watched at a safe distance as a boy ran up to him, waving a stick of gwapyeon that threatened to fly off at the vigorous whirl it was given, pulling him over to join a young couple.
As if sensing he was being watched, he looked around. Hastily, she turned away and pretended to look at the cotton cloth at the nearby textile stall. After a moment, she looked up. They were gone. Quickly, she scrutinized the crowd for long moments. Had she lost them? There was no sign of them. Was she mistaken? She frowned. But no, there was no mistake. If only she had gone up closer to verify his identity. If she ran into him again, she would have to be more meticulous.
As the afternoon drew to a close, the ultimate winner of the ssireum match was declared amidst much cheering, the loudest from those who had bet on the victor. Excitement rose as gongs sounded and announcements shouted aloud that the juldarigi would begin soon. The ropes for the juldarigi were brought out to the large clearing a distance away from the jangsi. Loud and bawdy were the comments as the ropes were joined and opposing teams gathered at their ends of the ropes. When all was ready, the gong was struck. Shouts of encouragement rose as participants tugged on the dongjul. The leaders of the teams watched keenly, waving the flags they held to direct their group. Back and forth the ropes went as everyone pitched in to have a go at it. It was a foregone conclusion which team would be the winner but everyone wanted to ensure there was temperate struggle. Nothing should be won that easily!
Even the children had a pull at the juldarigi. P'ado could not really grasp the dongjul properly, it was too thick for him. Nevertheless, he gave it his best heave before his place was taken by another. Back and forth the teams went. Teasing insults were shouted. Dusk was falling when roars filled the air as the eastern team holding the designated "female end" slowly hauled most of the rope over the midpoint. The gong sounded, signalling the end of the contest.
Knives were brought out and lengths of the huge ropes were cut and handed to the vilage chiefs to be wound around the stones of the entrances of their villages. The rest were hacked into pieces and given out to everyone who eagerly reached out for a share. Suk-kwon brandished the pieces he received in triumph when he returned to Yunbok and Jeong-hyang. Good fortune and a good harvest was ensured! Tired but happy, the little group joined the villagers from their hamlet and made their way home. Most of the jangsi was already closed except the jumak and inns in which travellers, merchants and peddlars were having their meals and totalling up their earnings.
Torches bobbed along the trail as night fell, happy chatters filled the air as the festivities of the day was discussed. The sight of the village entrance was greeted with much enthusiasm. Their share of the rope from the juldarigi, carried by eager volunteers was wound around the sotdae, thus ensuring good fortune for the village. The task completed, the villagers dispersed as each family made for home. As they walked back to the paper mill, Suk-kwon showed the others his lock purchase, grinning all the while at the good price he had gotten for it for it was certainly well made. He expounded at length of how he went about it.
His master could be like a little boy sometimes, Yunbok felt as he listened. Part of it had to be his living by himself. For the umpteenth time, he wondered what had happened to Suk-kwon's family. The older man had been very close mouthed about it when he asked. It was a pity he would be alone in his old age. But no, they were his family now, he corrected himself, his master was not alone. At such times, he felt sad that Suk-kwon seemed to have no one. Years ago, he had thought he would be spending the rest of his life alone till he passed away but fate had been kind.
The purchases were stored once they reached home. The bamboo blinds would only be put up at the end of the month to replace the old when it was time to repaper the doors and windows. Until then, Jeong-hyang would have plenty of time to make the maeduep to decorate it. As she vanished into the kitchen to set out the evening meal, a voice called outside. On looking out, Yunbok saw it was Yoo Jung, haraboji Yoo's son and went to greet him, surprised that he was making a visit at this time. Was there something urgent that had to be done? Yoo Jung put his anxieties to rest. There was a matter he wished to discuss with Yunbok.
Would it be all right if he made a formal call on Yunbok the next day? He would come just after the noon meal. After receiving a favorable reply, Yoo Jung took his leave. Yunbok wondered what was it he wanted. It was unusual to receive such a formal request. What could it be? After checking that P'ado was with Suk-kwon at the warehouse, he went to the kitchen to give Jeong-hyang a helping hand. She usually chased him out most of the time but he thought she would not today since they got back home so late. She gave him a look that spoke volumes when he appeared but said nothing when he took up a knife to slice the cucumbers. There were only side dishes to prepare fortunately. At her soft murmured indications of what she wanted, he cut up the desired vegetables and after a brief discussion, cooked pajeon which was P'ado's favourite.
Dinner was a leisurely and quiet affair as everyone was feeling tired. Washing up took moments and the baths after, more of a sleepy routine. After making sure his face was completely dry, Yunbok finished up the second last task of the day.
"Was P'ado trying to inveigle lessons from master Suk-kwon today?" asked Jeong-hyang as Yunbok handed the hair brushes back to her as they sat in the back room.
"Not trying, his lessons would start soon." Yunbok ducked his head under her arms as she braided her hair to look into the mirror himself, tapping his upper lip. "I hate this, I want to take this off!"
"No, you can't." She pushed him away so she could check her hair. "How did he manage that?"
"Look, I'll say I have some strange illness that prevented me from growing a beard," he wheedled. "Not all men grow beards."
"We've been through this before," she sighed. It was not that she did not empathize with his irritation at the need for facial hair but his lack of it would cause some tongues to wag even more.
"A fire, I got too close to a fire, it was burnt off." He fingered the false moustache irritably. "Arrghhh!" He threw himself down on his bedding.
"You only need to bear with it for a few years before you could arrange an "accident" to get it off," she said without turning around. "It's fortunate you're so dark. That moustache does not stand out as much as it would if you were as pale as I am."
"You are not that pale, just lightly tan," he mused as he looked at her. "You looked very good, healthy and robust." Turning over, he stared at the ceiling. "Master Park accidentally crushed one of his gourds that had fallen to the ground so to compensate him, he got an agreement to begin learning the staff." He eyed her expectantly, for she would remember when P'ado heard that word.
"Com...," she turned around at that. "He got that word from me," she said uncomfortably when Yunbok nodded solemnly. "We'll have to be more careful with him around."
"Surely you are not going to sew," he protested when she closed the chawgyong and turned to the bamboo basket. He got to his knees and reached out to take her hand. "It's really late, forget it, go to bed."
"But..."
"Enough, Hyangya." He pulled her away from the basket and leaned down to blow out the oil lamp. "It's been a busy day, get some rest!"
"How busy is it when I was just sitting around half a day, listening, chatting, eating and drinking?" she remarked sardonically as she settled down in her bedding.
"All the activities are equally debilitating. Yoo Jung came to see me earlier," he added as she was about to retort to his initial statement. "He was very formal about about meeting me tomorrow."
"Was he?" She racked her mind, trying to come up with some plausible guesses. "When does he want to see you?"
"After the noon meal." He considered for a moment. "There is more to be done in the fields before harvesting. Maybe he wants me to help out with more fields?"
"By asking to see you formally? What are you, a retired minister?" A pause before they burst into laughter.
"That is a silly notion, isn't it?" he chuckled. "Maybe it has something to do with the village."
"Or something to do with someone in this family. You are the head of this household."
He sat up at that suggestion. "What could it be about?" he wondered. "It can't be P'ado."
"Perhaps it has something to do with haraboji Yoo's family."
"I hope it has nothing to do with kidnap marriage." He lay back down, hoping it was not so as he could not think of any role that would suit him.
"Unlikely, unless they need someone to go where a bigger man cannot, in which case, you will come in handy."
"Ha, I will refuse to do it. I am not the only one who is physically small in the village. Besides, there are no widowers or any widows anywhere near here."
He rubbed an itchy spot on his upper lip and fingered the moustache which he had lengthened to the beginnings of a beard, wishing he could tear it off. Although he had started the beginnings of it more than a year ago, it was not as irritable as it was at present. Most of it was due to the ends that tend to tickle on a hot day. He would have to do some trimming on the morrow.
A hand came out of the darkness to lightly tap his hand in admonishment. "Stop fiddling with it."
"Yes, yes, omma ...ow," he yelped when she pulled at the moustache. "Stop that! You'll be the death of me."
In a small room of a jumak in the deserted jangsi, a group of three, a girl, a young man and an older man sat in silence, absorbed in their individual tasks. The girl counted the pile of coins in the bojagi (a piece of cloth to wrap or cover things) before her, putting them in stacks as she murmured softly. When all the coins had been counted and stacked, she looked to the young man beside her who nodded as he finished recording in the small book he held. Taking out a number of the coin strings beside her, she passed several to the young man and they began to loop up every stack. The older man who seemed to be asleep opened his eyes and knocked out the ash in the pipe he was smoking into a small bowl. Without a word, he laid it aside and got up, pulling on a durumagi and a gat. At the door, he paused.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he said without turning his head and left the room.
"Where do you think we will be a few days from now?" said the girl, without pausing in her task.
"Who knows?" the young man said casually. It was of no concern to him. "As long as it is not up north to spend the winter," he shuddered as he recalled the time they were in Hamheung years ago. "I'd rather we spend it here in the south. Better," he nudged her gently with his shoulder, "if we go to Busan. Imagine the variety of exotic trinkets to buy! The quality of wine we can drink!"
"That's a wonderful dream, oppa," she laughed, tying up the last stack. "All of which will come as true as the cold wind blowing now."
"Where are you going?" he asked as she pushed the bundled stacks before her to him and got up.
"The sight of so much nyang is food for the eyes but not for the body!" she grinned before going out of the room.
He regarded the money ruefully, realising that his stomach was rumbling. Turning to the bandaji, he removed another bojagi, spread it out and placed two of the coin stacks on it before tying it up and depositing it into the clothes chest. The rest of the money, he dumped into a small chest to be handed out to the rest of the group on the morrow. Dusting himself off, he settled down to wait for his dinner, bringing out his pipe and tobacco pouch.
Outside, the man gazed at the sky. It was an hour into first watch. With only a tungnong hung at the porch of the tavern, the couryard was barely lit. Looking about him, he made his way to the gates and took the path leading north-west. The luminous moon threw just enough light for him to see. As he passed through the forest, the glimmer of stars shone through the canopy of the trees. Although it was chilly, he did not feel it as his pace picked up. The path eventually merged the main road heading west. He joined the few travellers and horses making their way into the town. The soldiers at the gates looked him over as he passed but did not stop him.
Once past the gates, he took his time, strolling along as he took in his surroundings. The face of every young woman he passed was sighted carefully. From their dress, most of them were maids from the wealthier households, out on errands from their mistresses. He did not think he would find what he was looking for among them but viewed each face surreptitiously to avoid rousing outrage. He paused by a shop to ask for directions and continued on, turning into another street as instructed and turned again before arriving at his destination. He stood for a moment to look at the entrance but the place looked no different from the others he had visited in his travels.
He looked at the night sky, as if making an invocation before making his way to the gates hung with a quartet of large red tungnong. As he stepped past them, he was immediately greeted by a bevy of gisaeng and a horde of questions; did he have an appointment? What kind of entertainment would he like? The scent of flowers? An accompaniment of cups? A feast of music and dance?
His eyes flicked quickly at their faces; young and younger. A pang hit him when he saw these fresh young painted faces. His gaze alighted on a gisaeng who appeared to be in her late twenties, hanging at the back, not pressing forward as her sisters were doing. Something seemed to pass between them as his eyes met hers. He nodded to her, pushing through the crowd to take her arm. Was that a slight hint of shadow behind her eyes? The smile she showed him seemed genuine but he knew better.
Would he prefer a room, the verandah or the pavilion? On hearing he wanted a room, she led him further into the gibang. As they passed various occupied rooms with open doors, his gaze alighted once more on the faces of the women he could see. Outside a room, he halted for a moment, gazing within with interest before continuing on his way. It was rare to see such a sight. It reminded him of his secondary task. Although deep in thought, he did not forget to look into every room he passed. So preoccupied was he that he nearly knocked down a gisaeng. Hastily, he put out a hand to steady her and apologised for his blunder, glancing into the room she had exited as he moved around her. Just a couple of richly dressed men listening to a couple of gisaeng. One was playing the gayageum, the other singing.
Iseul closed the doors of the room and looked after the man curiously. It was rare to hear apologies from patrons. Much less from one who nearly knocked her down and who should be angry or lascivious. Who was entertaining him? She took a step aside to look at the back of the gisaeng leading the man. It looked like Hyeja. She was in luck then, for her customer was surely a gentleman of some virtue. Smiling, she made her way to her next task.
An attentive maid rushed up just as Hyeja opened the door of a small room, bearing a soban with wine, a cup and small dishes. This was placed before the poryo as he sat down. The maid exited the room, closing the doors behind her. He closed his eyes as she poured out the wine, thinking of the faces he had seen. There was a rustle of cloth as she sat closer.
"It must be a tiring day. Please take some refreshments, sir," she said. Her brows twitched when he removed his gat and lay down on the poryo. Did he intend to start straight away?
"I'm new to this town. Tell me, are there any interesting incidents of note?" He closed his eyes, recalling the faces he saw.
"Is there any particular subject you are looking for?" She gazed at him curiously. Did he come here seeking information instead of pleasure? It wouldn't be the first time a customer asked for news rather than satisfaction of her.
"I like to keep myself apprise of current events of the places I go to." He opened his eyes to look at her.
"Warming a seat at a tavern would get you the same dish, sir. Why here?"
"You are right." He sat up, reached for the cup of wine and drank. "But I think gisaeng hear more than anyone else."
"Some of which are less suitable and less wise to air." She refilled the cup.
"I do not ask for those. Only a clearer breath than the fog I would get out there," he took a sip. "Please."
She eyed him keenly but thought over the gossips in circulation and repeated them, wondering what he was seeking in the mundane development of merchant so and so's attempt to sire an heir, the fluctuating prices of some commodities in the perpetual merchandising competition, the arrest of certain merchants found to be operating without licenses, the capture of robbers that had been plaguing the northen region of Uiryeong that infused confidence in the newly appointed magistrate, rumors of strange foreign religious practices. As she repeated what she heard, she examined him closely; a man of middle years, tall and spare, deep lines around his eyes. He had the rugged tan look of one who worked outdoors.
"Are there many gisaeng who play the gayageum here?" he asked when she finished and waited expectantly.
"Do you wish for music? We have gayegeum players." The switch in topic did not bemuse her, rather, she was expecting it.
"Anyone with exceptional skill?" He stared into the cup.
"My sisters are skilled but if you ask if any would stand aloft, then no."
"What are their names?" He set down the cup and looked at her when she did not answer. "No matter," he sighed and poured wine into his cup. "My thanks for your trouble." He handed the cup to her and laid back down on the poryo.
"Do you want dinner, sir?" she asked after taking a sip, placing the cup back on the table. "Sir?" Had he fallen asleep? What a strange man this one was, she got to her knees to see if he was sleeping and leaned over him. His sudden movement in drawing her down startled her.
"No," he muttered as she made to disrobe him. "I only wish quiet company for the night. No more than that."
A living chukpuin? Amusement lifted her lips and then died away as she lifted her head a little. Perhaps he was weary from his journey and missing his wife. Ah, he looked a little less stressed as she glanced at his face. It was strange, this, as she laid her head back on his chest. Listening to the heart of another. She wondered if she would be able to get away later for his arms weighed heavy across her back. But did it matter? This was by far the easiest and most peaceful night she ever had. What was his name? She hoped to find out in the morning as she eventually drifted away into sleep.
Korean Words
chwagyong - mirror vanity
chukpuin - bamboo wife
Baekjung-jang - special market
banbogi - halfway meetings
boksunga-hwachae - peach punch
bojagi - a piece of cloth to wrap or cover things
dongjul - side rope
geunettwigi - swing
jingsin - leather shoes
juldarigi - tug-of-war
Jungwon - thanksgiving for approaching crop harvest
maeduep - Korean decorative knots
miljeonbyeong - wheat crepes
namsadangpae - troupe pf male entertainners
poryo - pillow