Ipdong 1781

A week later, Yunbok made his way to town with the Joon brothers. The road to Uiryeong was filled with people, animals and carts. The to-ing and fro-ing left a road cleared of snow but slippery from melted ice. Although he was certain no one would think of looking for him in such a remote area, Yunbok couldn't help but feel a little nervous as he passed the soldiers at the main gate. Too often, he had nightmares of being detained by guards in the towns he passed through. The soldiers made no move for him. He relaxed. Moving with the crowd, he made his way along the main street that wound through the market filled with numerous shops hawking a variety of wares.

Turning his head left and right, Yunbok glanced at the goods on offer but did not stop to browse as he would have. He could do that later after the paper had been delivered. Coming to the end of the market street, he stood somewhat at a lost at the intersection. It was not that often he would go into town so he had no idea where to go next. Eyeing the shopkeepers, he stepped up to an old man sorting medicinal herbs.

"Excuse me, haraboji, can you direct me to the Hansang warehouse?"

"Hansang warehouse," the old man frowned as he thought. "Ah, straight up this road, take a right and a left when you see a jumak."

Yunbok thanked the old man and nodded to the three Joon brothers carrying bales of paper behind him to follow. Progress was slow as they made their way through the press of the crowd, the snow and ice on the streets hampering them further. Eventually, they reached a jumak and turned right and left to arrive at the gates of a large warehouse. The yard was a hubbub of activities with workers shifting goods back and forth from carts and warehouse. Watching like a hawk nearby, a geogan (broker) imperiously directed the loading of a cart. Yunbok looked around, half wondering where he would find the warehouse supervisor and did not notice a hand waving to him from the crowd.

"Brother Seo!"

He turned in surprise. Out from the crowd of workers bounded Young-joon, his face beaming with welcome.

"Brother Han, I was not expecting to see you here," Yunbok bowed in greeting.

"Ah, my father's on a business trip so I'm overseeing the warehouse while he's away. I'm usually in the office," Young-joon waved vaguely behind him. "I came out for a breath of air. It can get stifling. Are you here to deliver the papers we ordered?" He looked at the three men standing behind Yunbok. His eyes widened when he recognized them. "They..," he said in disbelief.

"Yes indeed, we are delivering your order and...," Yunbok turned to look at the three brothers who looked down sheepishly at their feet. "Yes, we are old friends aren't we?"

"Ah, sir...," one of the three mumbled.

Young-joon stared at Yunbok as if he couldn't quite believe what he had done. Something clicked in him. He smiled. Of all the friends he had made, none was as intriguing, complex and magnanimous as Yunbok. Or as forgiving. More and more, he wished to get to know him better.

"Well then, let's get the formalities over with, shall we?" he gestured politely to Yunbok to enter the warehouse and showed him to the open doors of the office annexed to it.

It was crowded with men waiting to finish transactions and other business. Young-joon led them past the clerks to another room behind. There, he examined and marked off the bales of paper before handing over the payment. Looking down at Yunbok's acknowledgement and seal on the chuljapyo (receipt), he saw that it was beautifully written and neat. Truly, his friend was a learned man. Why then was he working at a paper mill? He handed a wooden chit to one of the brothers so they could offload the bales at the warehouse.

Just as Yunbok got up to leave he said, ""Brother Seo, if you have no other business for the day, how about a drink?"

"I'm afraid I would be distracting you from your duties, perhaps another time," Yunbok declined politely. He was not really interested in roaming around. Though this was an opportunity to try to resolve the issue of the painting, he still had not come up with a plan. He would have to leave it for the moment.

"No, no. Please I insist. I've been running the warehouse diligently for the past two weeks now, aboji would not mind if I take a day off. My supervisor here can take over, he is a capable man." Young-joon stood up, his mind already running over the entertainment he would like to shower Yunbok with. "Besides, it's not as if I have your company everyday. Today is indeed a rare occasion!" he added persuasively.

Yunbok hesitated. Dare he?

"Aigoo, do I have to beg?" Young-joon was surprised at his friend's reluctance.

"I... very well, if it is not too much trouble, brother Han," Yunbok gave in reluctantly. He turned to the brothers waiting behind him.

"Chang-su, please go back and tell master Suk-kwon I'll be returning late. Take this," he handed the payment for the paper, bound up in cloth, to the oldest of the three. "You know what to do with it and-," he reached into his coat and took out his money pouch, "here are twenty pun, you can buy whatever food and drinks you need for yourselves and the others before you go back."

"Yes sir, we will do as you say." Chang-su bowed respectfully to Yunbok. "Please take care sir."

The men bowed again before leaving. Young-joon felt very much out of his depth at his friend's faith with the former robbers. "You are taking a risk, brother Seo. You trust them that much?" he said, gazing after the three men as they left the office.

"Without trust and faith, the wounded man would forever hobble, never to stand in the sun again," Yunbok said soberly.

"You have the right of it, brother," Young-joon muttered as he visualised a different outcome for the Joon brothers had they not met Yunbok.

Shaking himself out of his dark mood, he went in search of his supervisor and found him outside the warehouse. After whispering some instructions, he strolled out into the snowy icy streets with Yunbok, glad that he would not be spending the rest of the day cooped up in the office. They headed north towards the eupchi, following the main road and then down south towards the marketplace. Along the way, Young-joon pointed out the compounds of the wealthier families. Most were established merchants in the region. A couple of houses belonged to retired officials. They passed the minchon (poor peasant neighbourhood) before arriving at the marketplace.

Strolling along the path, they stopped now and then to examine the wares of the shops. At the grain aemak (stall) was a foreign food of a type they had never seen before. The vendors called it corn, traded in from China and offered them samples to taste. The flavour was unusual, Young-joon commented. It was bland though sweet, he found. Yunbok thought it was rather delicious and bought a few. As they browsed, he observed that the prices of foodstuff, raw and cooked were startling higher than usual than those at the village jangsi. Especially grain. What was the reason?

"I would say the problem originated with the demand for snacks which had always been substantial," said Young-joon. "It's especially higher during the winter season," he nodded towards a crowded jumak in the distance. "With the proliferation of wealth, more people are willing and able to spend on food and drinks. Such appetite encouraged geogan and merchants to raise prices. It's a wonder that the town is not overrun with grocery stalls. Much profit could be made from running one."

"Would you say that the indebted farmers are also hampered from any attempt to increase their crop to meet the demand?" Yunbok suggested. "Land holders wouldn't want more influx to reduce their gain. If the crop should fail, prices would increase accordingly. And what about that earthquake? Already there are rumors that crop failures are certain to happen."

"Indeed," agreed Young-joon. "But competition among the merchants and taverns should keep prices from expanding too emphatically."

"There is that," said Yunbok doubtfully.

They moved on to other stalls and shops selling commodities further down. The variety amazed Yunbok as they strolled along looking at the wares; medicinal herbs, metal wares, wood wares, cloth, stationery, accessories, cosmetics and so forth. The merchandise conglomeration in Uiryeong was almost equivalent to that of Hanseong and rivalry for customers was fierce. He supposed the proximity of the port at Busan provided opportunities for a profusion of wares to be disseminated in the town.

Business was brisk at the jumak as people were eager for warm food and drinks on this cold day. In an alley, men stood at the moknojujeom (standing bar), some downing drinks at leisure, others quaffed a quick bowl before going on their way. They stopped at the sobalmakgeollijip (pub where makgeolli is serve in a bowl) for a couple of bowls of makgeolli. Yunbok was taken aback at the price and had second thoughts but Young-joon paid up without a qualm before he could say anything. Suitably refreshed, they turned into a bookstore. Recalling his conversation with the village chief, Yunbok hunted for books on agriculture and cultivation. He found a couple that were of the latest edition and picked them up.

"Why are you buying books on agriculture, brother Seo?" Young-joon asked curiously when he saw what his friend was paying for. "Are you planning to branch out into farming estates?"

"No, the village chief is keen on acquiring the latest editions books on the subject. He wants to improve the yields of the farms."

"Oh, that is most interesting." Young-joon wandered off thoughtfully and pulled the bookstore proprietor aside for a chat after a quick look around to make sure no one was near enough to hear.

His task done, Yunbok browsed through the other selections. Classics, popular fiction, poetry, almanacs, medicine, astronomy and so on. A Chinese production with illustrations caught his eye. It reminded him of his father's manuscript. He frowned. It had been so long, whatever had happened to his father's book? He had brought it away with him but where had he put it?

Young-joon returned to see his frown. "But what is wrong brother Seo?"

"Oh, it's nothing. These pictures reminded me of another book I've seen before," said Yunbok, finally recalling where he had hidden the book.

"What book is it?" Young-joon took a look. "Ahhh, machines and contraptions. The Chinese came up with many fascinating devices. Some of which are really fantastic. I have heard of someone who built a machine that is supposed to carry a person up into the sky."

"Really?" Yunbok laughed. It was hard to imagine a person flying in the sky like a bird, it was impossible. "Did it work?"

"I don't know, I never heard what happened. But look here, brother Seo." Young-joon had a mischievous look on his face as he handed Yunbok the book he was holding. "The ultimate satisfaction!"

"What is..," Yunbok stopped when he flipped it open. He flushed red. "Brother Han, this is inappropriate!"

He thrust the book back at a grinning Young-joon and stalked out of the shop, thoroughly embarrassed and annoyed. Really, what was Young-joon thinking? The existence of such a book had never crossed his mind, but then he was not as other men. Recalling the avid absorption of his former classmates with women at Dohwaseo, he shook his head. Come to think of it, his colleagues were just as bad. A universal trait that men never grew out of?

"I'm sorry." Young-joon caught up to him when he paused by a stall selling accessories and ornaments. Anxiously, he looked at Yunbok, hoping he had not offended his friend. "It was just a jest."

Yunbok only shook his head, disinclined to discuss it.

Taking the hint, Young-joon asked instead, "What are you looking for?"

It was an old habit of his that he could not seem to get rid of. Every time he passed by one of these stalls in his wanderings, he would look at the butterfly pendants and think of her. Where was she? Living a life filled with happiness, a loving husband and children, he hoped. He picked up one of the pendants. It looked somewhat similar to the one he had given her. Had she kept it? Why would she? But the lock of hair she had given him was with him still and would always be.

"Are you going to buy that for a lady love?" Young-joon was curious at the forlorn look on Yunbok's face.

"Eh? No, no, I was just looking." Yunbok returned the pendant to the display box. "It's nothing. Where shall we go to next?"

"Brother Seo, you're in luck. A travelling troupe arrived recently. I heard some of their performers can do amazing tricks. We shall fill ourselves with their entertainment and then after to my house for dinner."

Yunbok was surprised. "That is rather unusual isn't it? I never came across performing troupes in winter."

"That is true," Young-joon nodded. "This is the first time there is such a performance."

"Their earnings during the peak season must be bad," Yunbok said thoughtfully. For a troupe to be in dire straits was not a good sign. Was this the result of the earthquake?

The performance was already in full swing by the time they arrived at the town center. Pulling Young-joon over to stand on the steps of a shop so as to look over the heads of the crowd, Yunbok surveyed the surroundings. It was amazing so many people were willing to stand out in the cold. It helped that there were braziers scattered all around, probably set up by the sotdaejaengipae troupe. Many of the spectators were well dressed in fine silk coats. Strange that there were so many but perhaps they were just stopping by on their way somewhere else. Night was going to fall soon.

A strange scent wafted to his nose. He looked about curiously. An elbow nudged him in his side. He looked at Young-joon who nodded to the extremely plump man nearby. Yunbok eyed the man with interest. Pomposity evident in his posture, the plump but finely dressed man fluttered his expensive feathery fan. Yunbok's nose twitched. His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Even at that distance, the heavy perfume scent was overbearingly powerful, almost making it difficult to breathe. It must be even worse for those standing near the man for there was a small open space around him. Yunbok could have sworn there was also powder on the man's face. Young-joon was shaking, he realized, with laughter.

"Stop that," he whispered, hardly able to hold in his own giggles.

He hurriedly looked away when the man glanced in their direction. Concentrate, he thought to himself, on the troupe, concentrate. They were really good. He watched as they juggled objects that seemed impossible to throw around, twist themselves bonelessly in all sorts of postures as they performed on both the ground and top of the pole. At the end of the performances, he felt that they deserved a good donation. Apparently of the same opinion, Young-joon contributed a generous tip before leading Yunbok up north to his house.

Dusk had fallen when they arrived at the Han residence. A servant answered the call at the gates. Young-joon led Yunbok into an elegant but modest house. At the daecheong, he was not surprised to see who was waiting for them. He had been hoping she would keep to her quarters. A futile assumption. Kyoung-mi was equally taken aback when she saw Yunbok. The instructions given to her by the warehouse supervisor only told her to prepare dinner for a mutual friend he was bringing that night. Having not the slightest idea who Young-joon was referring to, she had elected to go to the daecheong when a maid announced his return instead of staying in the anbang as she usually did when there were visitors.

Young-joon did not notice anything amiss and only said gaily to Kyoung-mi. "I hope dinner is ready, cousin?"

"It is ready." She kept her eyes lowered, afraid that he would see her disquiet. "Shall I have it brought here or to your study room?"

"My study room. Brother Seo, this way."

Young-joon led the way to his study room in the men's quarters. The warmth of the room was like a balm.

"I don't suppose you smoke, brother Seo?" he indicated the smoking paraphernelia and hot brazier in the room as they settled themselves down on the cushions before a low desk with a byeongpung behind it.

"No, thank you." Yunbok declined the offer, casting a quick look around the room.

It was austere but the floor was a smooth pine-cone finished, a rich pumpkin colour and the ceiling was simple in white. Jokja hung on either of the byeongpung behind the poryo. Enclosed book cases lined the walls, a tri-level shelf in the corner and a kobi stuffed with scrolls hugged the wall next to the closed windows. The door to the bedroom was shut.

"Ahh, I am rather hungry after all the walk we did today," Young-joon laughed. "My cousin is a good cook. I'm glad she is around after mother passed away. Without a lady in the house, we men are at a lost when it comes to meals."

"You have no other siblings?"

"I'm an only son," Young-joon sighed. "As such, my father looks to me to carry on the family fortunes. Most of my relatives have since moved to other provinces, especially to towns up north so as to take better advantage of the trade routes. This house is a little empty as it is."

"I am sure you will do well in your endeavors, brother Han."

"May I come in?" came Kyoung-mi's voice outside the door.

"Please do."

The door opened. Carrying a soban between them, Kyoung-mi and her maid placed it between Yunbok and Young-joon. The brazier was carefully shifted nearer to keep everything cosy. Young-joon was pleased to see she had prepared ocheopbansang. A fine meal to set before his brother.

Withdrawing to her own room at the anbang, Kyoung-mi sat down to her own meal but her appetite had fled. Ever since the incident at the pavilion, she had been going over her own actions and words, examining her own behaviour. She had always been very scrupulous and maintained no contact with the friends Young-joon would entertain now and then. Observing their conduct and words behind doors, she found them to be boorish and self-centered. To see her cousin moving with such company had been disquieting. How then was she to explain her forward manner with this Mr Seo? Her desire to speak directly to him?

Perhaps it was because he was so vastly different from her cousin's friends? Or was it because he saved her from the robber? Or his talent for painting? Whatever it was, her cousin seemed to pale in significance beside him. Staring blankly at the dishes on the soban before her, she tried to sort it out. Having spent the past weeks trying to come up with answers, she did not think she was any closer to an explanation. There was that obvious reason that best describe her situation but she was afraid to entertain it. How long she sat there lost in thought she had no idea but she looked up when Heon-sook called at the door.

"Mistress, young master asked if you would be interested in joining him for drinks."

Kyoung-mi stared at the door in disbelief. Young-joon had invited her to join him? To sit in the presence of a stranger? Had her cousin come to regard his friend as close family? How was that right? But then, he did save their lives that night. If he hadn't, she would have lost both her honour and her life. Oh what a conundrum. Should she refuse it? And yet, she felt she could not bear to pass up the opportunity to see him again.

"Yes, I'll come."

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she got up and made her way to her cousin's room. She could hear the murmur of voices as she approached the door. Her heart quickened.

"It's a double edged sword any way you look at it. His late Majesty's reforms may have ended factional strife somewhat but it in turn accelerate social changes. Look at the number of Yangban we have today. Not even half are of the true nobility, most of them are merchants or rich peasants who bought titles," Young-joon said before draining his cup of wine.

"Does it really matter that much, brother Han?" Yunbok asked curiously as he refilled his friend's cup with the bottle of wine.

"How does it not matter? These merchants get into my hair with their flowery comportment, wafting windbags of foul self importance that positively undermine their grandiloquent intentions," Young-joon lamented, taking a sip of wine before handing his cup to Yunbok who immediately recalled the extremely plump coxcomb at the troupe performance.

"Like the feather bird we saw?" he said.

They laughed. Yunbok finished the remaining wine and refilled the cup before handing it to Young-joon who accepted Yunbok's own cup. He chuckled at the memory as he sipped the wine.

"What are you thinking of, brother Seo?" Young-joon grinned.

"Not anything complimentary," Yunbok grinned back. They chuckled, almost missing Kyoung-mi's request to enter. "It's unfortunate the earthquake did not provoke a more positive change in attitude among some of the wealthy," he added.

"Haha...ahem, come in cousin." Young-joon shook his head. "That earthquake will only inspire them to find better holdings to store their wealth!"

Kyoung-mi wondered what was the joke they were sharing as Heon-sook closed the door behind her. Her cousin seemed more relaxed and open than any other times she had seen him. She sat near Young-joon but remained quiet.

"That earthquake was frightening. I thought the ground would open beneath me or the house would collapse." Young-joon thought back to that terrifying day. "The maids were screaming so loudly I could barely hear myself speak. Some of my friends were so alarmed they swore to change their ways."

"Promises made in a moment of fear dries up readily like water in the sun," said Yunbok as Yong-joon snorted in agreement. "Despite the calamitous incident, it has brought mixed blessings."

"Of whom are you referring to?" asked Young-joon curiously.

"Shamans and fortune-tellers. Would people not seek assurance and have gut or jeom performed?" Yunbok pointed out as he recalled the rituals carried out at the village in the aftermath.

"How could any one deny the calamity?" Young-joon agreed. "Even a dokkaebi may not find a bush to hide in the face of such an event."

"Fear pervades and leaves no stones untouched. But in any case brother Han, the reforms have opened up much revenue and opportunities for the government and the masses."

Yunbok took a sip from his cup, needing some place to focus his attention for he could feel Kyoung-mi's eyes on him. It was highly unusual for anyone to invite a family member, especially a woman, when the guest was not part of the family. He wondered what Young-joon was thinking of.

"That is true. The range of commodities and foreign goods have increased. We have seen an impressive range of them earlier today. Even I am surprised despite the business this family is in. Almost everyone has a finger in some form of manufacture and merchantising," Young-joon said thoughtfully. "But still, there will some who will not reap the benefits."

"You are refering to the poorer peasants."

"What you have done for those three men has set me thinking," Young-joon leaned forward, eager to share his idea. "With what little means you have, you are willing to extend a helping hand. Why should I not do the same?"

"That is..." Was he serious, Yunbok wondered.

"It has been gnawing on my mind all this while. Even as a boy, I have this aspiration. The poor should not be discarded and forgotten, they too have a part, have the means to contribute if they are willing. I will make it possible for them to do so."

"What do you plan to do?" Yunbok could not help but smiled at Young-joon's enthusiasm.

"A school."

Startled, Yunbok looked at Kyoung-mi. Her gaze was so intense that he had to look elsewhere, feeling awkward.

"You have read my mind, cousin." Young-joon slapped the soban in agreement, rocking the cups.

"Where do you intend to set up a school, brother Han?" If Young-joon wanted to carry out his endeavour, Yunbok had a proposal to offer.

"At one of the outlying villages. There are schools in this town."

"Then, if I may. If brother Han really wishes to set up a school, the village near the paper mill is in need of assistance. The gye for the seodang the villagers have come up with can only provide limited supplies. There is still a lack of materials."

"Indeed!" Young-joon was pleased that he could start so quickly on a project he had been wanting to do. "I shall look into it. I hope my father will fully support me in this."

Yunbok was surprised. "Have you not discussed this before with your father?"

"Er... well," Young-joon looked apprehensive. "I never really talk to him about it."

Yunbok understood what he was not saying. Being an only son, he was likely to have been groomed to an exacting standard under his father. Stricture to follow a regimen that brooked no opportunity to expand beyond. In a way, it was much like how he was brought up by his foster father. Ever since he stepped into his house, he was set on the boat of his foster father's ambitions that never deviated from the path. Perhaps part of it was his own fault, he had never tried to think beyond. His seclusion was no help either. So great was his foster father's fear that his real identity would be discovered that there was no opportunity for him to foster a stray thought in any direction.

"Ultimately, it is your decision to bring it up to him," Yunbok tried to encourage his friend. "If you will forgive my saying this, 'Great souls have wills; feeble ones have only wishes.' If you never try, how do you know he will not accept? How will you find your niche, brother Han? Your place in this world?"

"You are right, brother Seo. I must indeed strive to find my place." Young-joon's eyes were alight with motivation. At this moment, a servant outside the door coughed to get his attention.

"Young master, the warehouse supervisor wishes to see you."

"Ah! Excuse me for a moment, brother Seo," Young-joon said apologetically, getting up. "I'll be back soon."

Yunbok watched him leave with misgivings while Kyoung-mi was torn between delight and apprehension for she felt more drawn to Yunbok than ever before. Especially after he was able draw out the unvoiced sentiments of her cousin and infused belief and determination in him. None of her cousin's friends had ever encouraged him in a positive direction. She was pleased he had finally come across someone who would provide some guidance. It remained to be seen if Young-joon would carry out his intentions but she heard the resolve in his voice. He would speak with his father about it and carry out his intentions. With some disappointment, she watched as Yunbok reached for his cup, seeming disinclined to talk to her.

Heon-sook looked at the both of them. It was obvious that master Seo was wary of her mistress so instead of fearing the young man would accost her mistress, she was rather afraid it would be her mistress who would do something indecorous. She had seen the look in her mistress's eyes, her desires shining so brightly she was surprised the young master was ignorant of it. Master Seo would have been aware, else why would he studiously not looked at her mistress?

His hand was as dark as his face, yet the fingers were slim and taper. Kyoung-mi wondered how they would feel against her own. She reached out for the wine bottle when he sat down the cup and leaned forward to fill it, noting with a little hurt that he withdrew his hand completely to avoid any contact. That was of course, appropriate and yet somehow, she felt that he was a little afraid of her. Why?

"Brother Seo, you need not fear a frail woman."

He made no answer to that statement. What was he supposed to say? Yes, he was afraid of her. That painting was a great danger to him in her hands, her interest in him was yet another pitfall, not so much for him as for her.

"Or are you adamantly against me for taking that painting?" she looked searchingly at him.

Yunbok fixed his eyes on the soban lest she saw his quandary. He almost certainly was not happy but he couldn't very well say so. It would be rude.

"But it is right you would think little of this woman," she continued when he remained silent. "I have committed thievery by unfair means and yet, brother Seo, I hope you would be generous to forgive a woman's weakness for desiring an item so fair and handsome."

For all her apologies, it didn't sound like she was going to return it to him. He wondered how was he going to convince her to give it up. Unless he offered something in return?

"Will you accept a replacement?" he said finally. "The painting is not as fair and handsome as you think it is. There are faults within that should remain under darkness."

Her brow furrowed. Faults in the painting? She was not sure she understood. "Brother Seo, although I am no art expert, I failed to see these faults that you refer to."

"I...," he stopped when the door opened to reveal a beaming Young-joon.

"Come, brother Seo! I have arranged a surprise for you," he beckoned. Yunbok got up reluctantly, wishing Young-joon had been delayed longer. He was certain he could persuade Kyoung-mi to a trade.

"Brother Han, you are already very generous today, surely you need not go through further troubles?"

"No trouble at all!" Young-joon nodded to Kyoung-mi. "We will be late, cousin. You need not wait. Come, brother Seo."

She could not help but be annoyed with Young-joon for interrupting her conversation with Yunbok. Having a fair idea where her cousin would be bringing his guest, that added more ill humor to her feelings as she watched them leave.

Amused by Young-joon's boisterous excitement, Yunbok followed him out to a snow covered street and down past the market place. It was as crowded as ever. The lanterns in the darkness threw beautiful warm glows on the surroundings. The air was filled with the sound of murmuring voices and aroma of food from the jumak. Presently, they came to an establishment. Richly dressed men were trooping through a pair of gates hung with large red lanterns from which music and raucous laughter could be heard. A gibang? What did Young- joon have in mind?

"Er...brother Han, I don't think I want to...," Yunbok halted in dismay. Young-joon was not one of those libertine men who caroused at abandon, was he?

"No, no, you must come. You can't miss this!"

Seeing that Yunbok was going to turn away, Young-joon hooked him by the elbow and tugged him past the gates and bowing attendants and into the main courtyard, calling aloud for someone. Idle gisaeng standing nearby simpered at customers and at them.

A gisaeng came up to them, exchanging words Yunbok could not hear with Young-joon. He fidgetted uncomfortably. The sight of the gibang brought back memories he thought he had buried forever. It was a little different from the one in Hanseong, not as huge or as noisy but still, it raised the ghosts of the past. A young gisaeng brushed past him. He winced when she directed a bold invitation at him with her eyes in passing even as she greeted a customer jovially. His toes twitched in response to his desire to get out of there. Young-joon grabbed his arm again, forestalling him and pulled him behind the gibang and past the garden, heading for a cluster of small houses tucked away in a corner.

"You cannot miss this, brother Seo. This friend of mine does not play for anyone except for a close circle of sympathetic associates. I waited for so long before I could get her to include me. Do you know that I would have waited forever? It's so fortunate she agreed to play for us tonight." Young-joon was speaking so fast that his words were garbled to Yunbok.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in bewilderment.

"The best gayageum player in this town!" Young-joon enthused.

Gayageum? Yunbok felt a wrench in his heart. He was not sure he wanted to hear this player.

"The music she plays is heavenly."

"Brother Han.." Yunbok tried to back out again but Young-joon dragged him to the small house nearest the garden, calling aloud. The door opened and a young maid held the pangchang aside for them. "No .. I think I ..," protested Yunbok, trying to dig in his heels at the tiny porch. The girl watched the tussle in astonishment.

"Don't be shy, brother Seo, come in," insisted Young-joon, clamping down on his friend's elbow, not knowing Yunbok could easily flip him aside if he wanted to.

"It's not that..."

The voices attracted the attention of the woman waiting inside. One, she could identify as young master Han. The other was probably his guest. From the sound of it, master Han's guest was not enthusiastic about the entertainment he was about to receive. That was surprising, considering the number of men who tried to be one of her few selected guests. She peered curiously through the screen stretched across the doorway of the anteroom, plucking the strings of her gayageum softly. Young-joon finally stumbled in with his reluctant guest who almost fell with a overzealous tug from him. The door was closed and the pangchang drapped once more across the entrance to prevent any draft.

"Really, brother Han, there's no need for the use of force," Yunbok protested as he righted himself.

"I'm sorry, brother Seo but you really must enjoy this music. What kind of brother am I if I can't share this with you? Sit! Sit!" Young-joon gestured to the cushions on the floor.

That voice. Her hands stilled, her heart began to hammer. It could not be. It sounded familiar and yet strangely unusual. She looked through the screen. Time seemed to freeze for her. That figure. Although Young-joon's guest was turned away from her, that figure was very familiar. Then he turned and she saw his side profile. Amazement held her for a moment before joy suffused her. Stifling the impulse to call him, she clenched her hands as she stared at him.

Painter, where have you been? How have you been? I have missed you.

She looked down, blinking away her tears as she recalled his last words to her before she departed from Hanseong. He had wanted the best for her but she had failed to fulfill his wishes. What would he say now if he knew? Quickly, she dried her tears. It would not do for master Han to see her crying. He would want to know why. She did not wish to create trouble for Yunbok.

"Her music must have bedeviled you then," Yunbok sighed, sitting down on the cushions. Perhaps it was better to humour Young-joon. He had the feeling he would be dragged back again if he try to leave.

The maid brought in a soban, jug of wine, cups and made sure the brazier was near.

"Do you not believe me? Haha, wait till you hear it, brother Seo. Then you will be as bedeviled as me! Let the music begin." Young-joon nodded to someone behind Yunbok and offered a toast.

Stifling another sigh, Yunbok picked up his cup to return the toast and froze as the strains of the gayageum reached his ears. It was Dong Chon Nion Lo, Han Jang. His hand shook. He forgot all about the toast. No, that could not be. This style of play. There was only one person who could reach into him that way. Slowly, he turned his head towards the anteroom. A streak of pain lanced through him, so acute was it that he was surprised he was not bleeding. No, it could not be. But it was. It was her. How could it be? His head snapped back. He downed the cup that threatened to spill. A ghostly vision, surely?

"Are you all right?" Young-joon was puzzled by Yunbok's shaken demeanor.

It was hard to speak, his throat felt constricted but Yunbok managed to croak, "I'm just surprised by her skill." Trying to distract himself from the turmoil roiling within, he filled Young-joon's cup.

"There, what did I say?" Young-joon was pleased and gazed adoringly towards the screen. Was that a new song she was playing?

Yunbok was torn between wanting to leave and wanting to stay. His mind was filled with questions. What was she doing here? What was she doing back at a gibang? Was she not a free woman now? He had thought she would have gone back to her family. But then, what did he know of her family? He realized there was much he did not know of her background, he had never thought to ask in those misty dreamy confusing days back at Hanseong. Absorbed with the questions whirling in his head, he was lost to his surroundings.

As she played, she wished he would turn to face her. All she could see of him was a partial profile. Even so, she was startled to see the darkness of his skin against the snow white of his coat collar. Had he been laboring in the sun? But why? His cheeks were lean, the line of his jaw sharper. His frame seemed to be slimmer too with a hint of wiry strength. How far different he looked from his old self at Hanseong. What had he been doing to himself all these years? She longed to talk to him. Her fingers moved over the strings. Song after song she played. The night grew late. Distant drums sounded. Curfew was in effect.

Ae-young wondered what was ailing young master Han's guest. After that first look at her mistress, he seemed to go off into a daze, staring at his wine cup but not drinking much. It was most unusual. Newcomers were often enthusiastic in their appreciation but not this young man. Young master Han on the other hand, was overly generous with the wine bottle this night, very much unlike his usual conduct when he came to her mistress's home. She was not surprised when he began to shout after the eighth piece of music.

"Tha...that was great!"

Yunbok looked at him, startled out of his reflections. "Brother Han, are you drunk?"

"Dru..u.u..unk? Whooooo says so?" Face flushed, eyes overbright, Young-joon hiccuped as he lifted his wine cup. Half the contents spilled over onto the floor.

"Enough, brother."

Yunbok took away the cup, then lunged across to grab Young-joon when he began to slump backwards. How was he to get Young-joon back to his house like this? He lowered his friend gently to the floor. He took off Young-joon's gat, knocked askew, straightened the pungcha and gently slapped his face.

"Brother Han, wake up."

"I'll get him some cold cloths," Jeong-hyang said behind him.

Ae-young looked with surprise at her mistress who rarely left the ante room and talked to her guests face to face. But tonight, she did so for this young man. Why? Yunbok nodded his thanks when Jeong-hyang came back with a basin, accepting the wet cloth and pressed it to his fiend's face. It only made him mumble.

She offered him a small open pot. "You might want to put this in his mouth."

He peered into it curiously. "What's that?"

"Bitter herbs, it will wake him up for a time...Painter," she said, willing him to look at her. Up close, she could see that there was a weathered look to him, as if he had been buffeted and conditioned by the winds of adversity. More then ever, she wished to know what had happened to him these four years. Clearly, his life had been difficult.

Yunbok reached into the pot silently, forced open Young-joon's mouth and dropped a pinch of the herbs onto his tongue.

"Paaughhhh!" Young-joon spluttered, almost knocking Yunbok over when he sat up suddenly. Combined with the cold wet cloth, he looked almost lucid.

"Brother Han, it's time to go home. Do you understand?" Yunbok spoke slowly and loudly, knowing drunkened men's senses were befuddled.

"Whaaa...is it?" Young-joon muttered, focusing his eyes with effort. He saw Jeong-hyang and grabbed her arm. "Ahh! Jeong-hyang, that wassss lovely...play...plaaay for meee again."

"Enough, brother. It's getting late, it's time for you to be in bed, at home. Come."

Jeong-hyang did not shake off Young-joon's hand, knowing he was too drunk to realize what he was doing. Besides, it was not as if she was alone with him. She watched in amazement when Yunbok heaved him to his feet, holding one of Young-joon's arms over his shoulder to support his weight. He moved with a lithe grace and strength she had never seen in him before. Ae-young hastily replaced the gat on Young-joon's head. At the door, Yunbok paused and looked back.

"Our apologies for the disorder," he said simply and somehow managed to get Young-joon to slip his feet into his shoes and guide him away.

She stood at the door and watched them until they could not be seen anymore. Her heart was aching from the cool indifference Yunbok exhibited. Or was it reserve? Why?

"Really, why must you drink so much?" Yunbok muttered, half wondering if he should deliver a kick to Young-joon when his friend lurched into the wall for the umpteenth time.

He was getting tired from supporting his weight. Thankfully the streets were deserted else they would be knocking into people. The night watchmen were not around at the moment but he expected to run into them soon if he failed to get Young-joon back home. Prudently, he had taken note of the landmarks when they were on the way to the gibang earlier but now, they were in the small winding roads off the main streets, he was not sure where to turn.

"Which way, Young-joon? Come on, we must be getting near," he cajoled, shaking his friend who opened blurry eyes.

"...right," Young-joon mumbled.

Yunbok sighed and took the right as indicated. He was vastly relieved to see the front gate of the Han residence. A servant opened the gate to his calls and quickly lent a hand in supporting Young-joon into the house. Despite being told not to wait for her cousin, Kyoung-mi was wide awake and hastened to the daecheong when she heard the calls.

"He's just had too much to drink," Yunbok assured her when he saw her anxiety.

"Oh."

She followed them as they half dragged her cousin to his study room and deposited him into his bedding in his bedroom. Yunbok let the servant take care of his master and stumbled out. He was dead tired.

Seeing his exhaustion and desiring to ease his weariness, Kyoung suggested, "Brother Seo, spend the night here since the gates are closed."

It sounded heavenly to him. He just want somewhere to rest his aching head. "That will be very nice," he muttered, turning to follow her to a room diagonally opposite the study room. She opened the door before hastening away. He tossed his gat into the darkness of the room, too tired to bother lighting the candle and sat down, rubbing his throbbing head, trying to sort out his thoughts.

"Brother Seo?"

He turned to see Kyoung-mi inside the door with a lighted candle. Setting down a basin of water, she offered him a towel. "I'm sorry, I called but you did not answer."

"Sorry to put you to so much trouble," he apologised.

He accepted the towel, too weary to bother with anything else. The towel was warm and a blessed balm to his cold face. He heard her moving around and looked up to see she had lit the candle in the room, hung his gat on the hook and lay out the bedding.

"Thank you." He bowed as he handed back the towel to her.

"No need, brother Seo. You have brought my cousin home safe and sound, I'm grateful," she smiled. "Have a good night."

He was weary but not so tired as to forget to lock the door behind her once she was gone. Knuckling the ache on his brow, he removed his coat and considered hanging it up but opted to drape it across the desk. It was too much bother to fumble with the hwattae. The pungcha also went onto the desk. Gratefully, he sank into the haven of the thick bedding. Groggily he blew out the candle and covered himself.

Hyangya, what are you doing here?


Korean Words

Aemak - permanent stall

Chuljapyo - receipt

Dokkaebi - supernatural being

Eupchi - offices of the local administrators

Geogan - brokers

Gut - ritual performed by shamans

Hwattae - clothes hanger

Jangsi - market held every five days

Jeom - fortune telling

Jokja - frame for artwork

Jumak - tavern

Minchon - poor peasant neighbourhood

Moknojujeom - standing bar

Ocheopbansang - meal with 5 side dishes

Pungcha - winter cap

Sobalmakgeollijip - pub where makgeolli is serve in a bowl