Soseo 1789
From the brightness of the light, Yunbok knew he had gotten up later than usual. Later than mid-morning perhaps. It was surprising Kyoung-mi had not come by but perhaps she was tired too. Not that it mattered one way or another to him. A servant who checked on him moments later came back with breakfast, two basins and towels. He sent him away after declining his offer to help with his grooming and locked the door. At times like this he wished Jeong-hyang was around. Another pair of hands made the task easier. He removed the manggeon (headband), untied the topknot and washed his hair before drying it with one of the cloths.
As his hair dried, he carefully removed the beard, wincing as he peeled it off and put it aside. He wished he had not let Jeong-hyang talked him into 'growing' one as he washed his face. He could have simply said he was suffering from some malady or something if anyone in the village or his colleagues asked. Besides, not every man grew a beard. Rumors and gossips about lack of facial hair mattered not to him. It was solely for her sake that he agreed to the idea. Using a mirror, he prepared the glue and put the beard back on, combed and tied up his hair again. His ablution done, he checked his beard once more before settling down for breakfast. As he ate, he calculated how much time he had left. It was doubtful he would have more than a month to work with. At best, he had another two weeks maybe less before master Danwon arrived at Busan.
Would he even be able to accomplish his task before whoever tried to kill him yesterday made another attempt? Who was it? It could not be Myung-hee. No, not when she declared "war" on him so strongly and openly yesterday. She was not the type to assassinate. It was someone else. Could it be her maid, Bong-eun? Did she suspect he was to there to ferret them out? Did she think he was getting too close to the answer? Or did she not like Myung-hee's interest in him?
Other than an impression of coldness, he hardly exchanged a single word with her except for that night when Choe attacked Myung-hee. More often than not, she was hurrying about on some tasks. If she did see him, there was always the look of disdain. Most curious. If it was really her, he would have to triple his efforts in nailing her down. How to go about it?
But wait, he was thinking about cords yesterday. What kind of cords was Myung-hee making? If they were meant to be decorations, why was there no sign of them in her room? Where had he seen that wooden stand before? It was somewhere else in Chinhae, he was sure of it. The marketplace? Frowning, he came to a decision. That should be the first place to search for an answer.
Grabbing his gat and coat, he made his way out of the mansion and down to the marketplace, scrutinising every shop closely. It was not likely to be the shops selling victuals, the cloth shop? He stood outside and looked in. No sign of any wooden stand. Neither did the ornament shop. Where else? Woodwares, brasswares. As he neared the weaponry store, he suddenly remembered. The weapon shop proprietor's wife had one like it. She could probably tell him more about it. Quickly, he made his way to the shop and was about to turn into it when he bumped into a man who came walking out at the same time.
"My apologies," the other man said curtly, ducking his head down as if in apology before continuing on his way.
Yunbok frowned and gazed at the man's retreating back. He seemed familiar somehow. Had he seen him before? No matter, it would come to him eventually. He walked into the shop and there was the proprietor's wife, braiding threads with the wooden stand. The sight of it brought a light to his eyes.
"Yes, sir, can I help you?" the proprietor asked politely as he wondered at this young man's evident delight.
"If you would indulge in my curiosity, sir," Yunbok gestured to the wooden stand. "May I know what kind of cord is she making?"
"Oh, she is making kumihimo braids. Here," the proprietor lifted a sword from the display stands and pointed to the colourful braid attached to the scabbard.
"May I have a closer look?" Yunbok nodded his thanks when the proprietor held it out. The braid was beautifully stranded with a tassel at the end. It was less than the length of his hand. There was a spongy feel to it as he felt it. He moved to the display stands and took a closer look at the braids on the other swords. Not all the braids were the same. Some were flat or round.
He pointed to the braid of the sword he was holding. "Is this hollow?"
"I would say there is space within," the proprietor nodded, wondering at this young man's curiosity, "not big enough to contain a knife but perhaps something like a special pair of silver chopsticks. Hardly anyone uses it for such a purpose however. The jangdo we have serves many purposes. Other than kumihimo, we also make other varieties of braids for the swords and customers who asked for them."
"Pardon me, I meant no offense but," Yunbok said, handing the sword back, "where was this skill learned?"
"From her mother. This used to be a foreign settlement a long time ago. Most of the foreign settlers left but some of them stayed behind," the proprietor said genially as he replaced the sword at the display stand, "and they intermarry with the locals. Like me," he grinned as he patted himself.
"I see. Do many people buy your swords?"
"You'll be surprised but I have orders that come as far as Hanseong. Of course, I don't draw as big a business as those in Busan but I still get a share. Why, I just sold a Shinshinto blade just now."
To the man he bumped into just now? Yunbok frowned for he didn't recall seeing a sword in the man's hands. He wondering if the man was connected in some way to Myung-hee.
"Is something wrong?" the proprietor asked with some concern, seeing his frown.
"No, no. I would like to buy some of those hollow kumihimo braids if you have it."
"Oh, most certainly." The proprietor turned to grab a small box from under the display stand and offered it to Yunbok. Going through the braids, Yunbok chose three. "That will be a nyang, please," he bowed when Yunbok gave him the money. "Are you sure you would not like to buy a sword?" he asked again as he put it away.
"No, you have been most kind with your time," Yunbok said politely, bowing his thanks before exiting the shop. He tucked the braids into his coat and returned to the Bae residence.
Back in his room, he upended the paper tube, dented from his impact and roll with the ground and spread out the drawings to sort them. He separated the drawings depicting Myung-hee from the others. Here she was greeting her guests. Mediating in a fight. Helping a drunken customer. Seeing off a customer during the day. And that day, entertaining those men. All her customers were dandies. All of them were, he ran his fingers over the figures. His eyes widened.
How many times had he seen her escorting her guests in the night? How many times had he seen them leaving in the mornin? Not often. He was usually too tired to stay the five watches of the night. That could explain why he missed out the clue. He tapped his fingers on the paintings. Was that it? Was it really so simple? If it really was that, it was not surprising nobody noticed it. Further investigation was needed. He gathered up all the paintings and put them back into the paper tube before making his way to master Bae's study room and was given permission to enter.
"I was just about to summon you," said the old man. "I hope yesterday's incident was not too overwhelming."
"It was a frightening experience, but I do not think it will happen again," Yunbok said with a confidence that roused the other man's interest. "My task here is almost completed, sir. I came to ask if you have any particular entertainment scenes. Gisaeng with an instrument of your choice?"
"Oh!" master Bae quelled his excitement when he heard that. "Hmmm, any musical instrument is fine with me. If you would put in three, that is best. Please continue with your good work."
"Very well, sir."
As he left the study room, he wondered if he should continue on to the gibang. There was no reason not to so he collected his stuff and made his way out of the mansion and down to the town center. The smell of fish was not so apparent, he realized, as he passed the marketplace. He must be getting used to it. As he approached the jumak next to the gibang, he noticed a head withdrawn hastily from behind one of the posts of the jumak.
Presently, loud shouting was heard. It sounded like a fight was breaking out. True enough, crockery came flying through the air. There was a wail as the tavern-keeper frantically tried to prevent the destruction of her property. Five men came tumbling into sight, scuffling with one another. Yunbok stopped. They were in the way and he had no desire to be caught in a brawl that was none of his concern. Other passers-by also veered away or halted to watch the struggle.
One of the men pushed his opponent who went tumbling before coming to a halt near Yunbok. It was then that he became aware that the 'fight' was no such thing for the man on the ground before him suddenly leaped up and went for him with a dagger. Those who were watching, gasped in shock. He dodged the thrusting stab and struck the man's forearm hard and sharply with his cane. The man dropped the dagger, gasping in agony as acute pain lanced through his fractured arm. His accomplices abandoned any attempt to carry on their 'fight' and surrounded Yunbok, armed with wooden sticks. The spectators hurriedly retreated to a safe distance. What had the young man done to attract such attention?
Yunbok was not keen to unleash the hidden sword but if he had to, he would. There was still a chance he could simply remove them without using it. Rather than wait for them to attack, he went straight for the man before him. If he took him out, that would leave an opening for him to get through and make a run for it. There was a disturbance at his back but by then he was engaged with his target. The man he went for lunged forward, intending to stab him through the chest with the dagger that suddenly appear in his hand but Yunbok dodged and struck his opponent who bent double in agony when the cane slammed into his ribs. As he turned, the other three attackers, including the man with the broken arm, were down unconscious with a stranger standing over them. His rescuer stepped to the man Yunbok attacked and twisted his arm behind him.
"Who sent you?" he asked.
"I... I don't know what you mean!" The man gasped in pain as pressure was applied.
"Make it easy on yourself. Who sent you?"
"Aarrghh! It was merchant Choe! Please, let me go!" the man begged, face whitening in anguish.
"Stay there. The constables will be along presently."
Yunbok nodded to his rescuer who gestured to him to go on. He was one of Suk-kwon's men, he was sure of it as he continued on to the gibang. The tavern-keeper was angrily sweeping up the broken crockery, berating the troublemakers under her breath. She looked up as he passed and saw that they had been subdued, whereupon she picked up her broom and ran to give them a thrashing with it. Or rather the one who was still conscious. He curled up into a ball as the broom went to work, with onlookers adding their admonishments.
The humor of it made Yunbok chuckled but he was sobered by the time he reached the gibang. Merchant Choe! It never occurred to him that the man would send thugs to beat him up. In hindsight, he should have, considering the confrontation he had with him but he was too distracted to bother with the peon. Come to think of it, he had not seen the man since the night he threw him onto the table. When was that, three days ago? Evidently, the merchant remembered everything. Pity, he was hoping the man would be too confused to recall what had happened. He stopped short when he saw who was coming down the steps.
Choe's face was suffused with red when he saw Yunbok. Unharmed. Those useless louts he hired had failed! He glared at Yunbok as they came level on the stairs. The few gisaeng about watched worriedly. Word had spread of the painter's near demise at the picnic and they were extremely anxious.
"I should haul you up before the militia for the injuries you inflicted on me!" Choe grated.
"Perhaps, sir, if you imbibed less, they would never occur at all," Yunbok said coolly, knowning it would make the other man more angry.
"Impudence! Is that how you address an elder?" Choe turned even redder.
"If respect is deserved, sir, I will not hesitate." Yunbok wondered if the man would explode, his eyes were bulging so.
"How dare you imply I'm worthy of less?!" The roar that left Choe brought forth a number of spectators. Was there going to be a fight?
"You will not be here if it is not so," Yunbok returned serenely.
Furious, Choe raised his fist and stopped. Belatedly he remembered this young fellow's martial abilities. Frustrated, he stomped off after throwing a threatening look at Yunbok. It had been a few painful days for him. Landing on that table had caused a few broken crockery to cut into him, besides the knocks and bruises he sustained. His temper did not improve much when he returned yesterday to find Myung-hee had gone off on some picnic with master Bae! And she had refused to see him just now, pleading exhaustion. His rage was so obvious that most of the servants took care to be more servile when he arrived home.
His fury was somewhat appeased to find a message waiting for him that had arrived with the latest shipment of tables. Ah! She would have to see him now, she had no excuse! Back he went, in a lighter mood. Only to have it dashed when he reached her room to see that the doors were opened and raised to the rafters. On looking in, he saw that she had a guest, none other than the young painter!
Sensing a presence, she looked up and arched an eyebrow in amusement when she saw his scowling face. Rather than make a scene, he turned and walked away. So, she had her eye on the young man, did she? There was no way he would allow that. He would take care of that young fellow, he would! Bong-eun walked past him. He grabbed her arm.
"I have been most disobliging." Myung-hee turned to look at Yunbok. "I'm afraid I have created an enemy for you."
"It's a little late," Yunbok said dryly. "The moment he made that absurd request for the painting, he's already an adversary. His temperament would not have it any other way." Why did she want to see him? "Do you have something to discuss?"
"How long before you finished your work for master Bae?" She tapped her daegeum with her fingers.
"Most likely by Daeseo. Is there a problem?" What was she planning now?
She was a little disappointed with his reply. She had been hoping for more time. "What are your plans after this?"
"I will return home with my cousin," he said. He sincerely hoped that was the case. To return Kyoung-mi rejuvenated.
"She is not the one of your heart, is she? Why are you bothering to indulge in this engagement that you do not want?" she looked at him keenly. Would he deny it?
"Madam, are we back to this again? I have no inclination to discuss it. Please excuse me if there is nothing else."
Was she not going to give up? She was ten times worst than Kyoung-mi. Yunbok got to his feet.
"Are you so willing to give up your beloved?" she said when he reached the door.
"What do you mean?" he turned back to her, puzzled.
"Do you want me to say it out loud?" How would he respond, she wondered as she studied his expression. Ah, he was tensed but at the same time, curious to know how much she knew. He was not panicky at all. An interesting reaction.
"Does it matter?" he lifted an eyebrow in amusement.
"That's a rather intriguing question, it should matter to you." Why was he so assured? There was something she was not seeing. Yet. What had she missed?
"But what does or does not warrant my concern, madam? That is not for you to say," he said lightly.
With that he turned and left. Leaving behind a sllightly vexed Myung-hee who frowned and then laughed. His unpredictability was proving to be a harder trait to handle. She had been so confident she had a hold on him. Bong-eun came in and quickly bent to whisper in her ear. What she heard made her slapped the table before her with anger. That insufferable man!
"Tell him second watch tonight," she said with asperity.
"There is also something else," Bong-eun added quietly.
"There's more?" Myung-hee said impatiently.
"It's not merchant Choe. Madam, I would remind you of the codes of conduct," Bong-eun said ominously.
At that, Myung-hee turned cold eyes on the maid. "What are you saying?" she demanded.
"I sense that you have more than the usual interest in this painter. You have been watching him ever since he appeared. Now you are making your interest apparent to all. For your sake, I must remind you what happened six years ago," a little of Bong-eun's conniption seeped into her voice.
"You think I will repeat that? You are mistaken," Myung-hee said mildly. Once, the veiled threat would have meant something to her. Now, it only served to rouse her hatred.
"I do not think I am. Surely you know both of you can never be even if you succeed in getting his attention!" Bong-eun said derisively.
"Is that all?" Myung-hee leaned in to murmur softly. "I know it was you who caused the incident yesterday. Do not," she hissed vehemently. "interfere in my weaving or you will regret it."
"I am only looking out in our interests," Bong-eun's face grew forbidding. "Our goals come first!"
"Then you are less than what I think you are. Return to your duties!" snapped Myung-hee.
Sullenly, Bong-uen got up and went out of the room. She had to go and reopen old wounds, Myung-hee thought furiously. To her, it felt like it had only happened yesterday. The agony and the lost, how did she manage to live this long? If only she had chosen differently, would she be here today? Or living happily with her lover far away from here? She fingered the daegeum on the table and brought it to her lips. A haunting tune issued from the flute.
Outside the room, Bong-eun paused for a moment as boiling outrage threatened to spill into physical desire to inflict bodily affliction with as much blood and tearing as possible. The music only increased her wrath that she nearly returned to exact her displeasure. Instead, she marched out silently to the garden, sending those gisaeng and servants who saw her to retreat or avoidance. Who had incurred the hostility? Nobody ventured to ask or desire to find out. Her eyes took in everything before her as she stopped near the main courtyard. They gleamed when they settled on a figure at the gates. A plan began to form.
The brush that danced swiftly over the paper slowed as strains of the tune caught the wielder's attention. It was nothing he had ever heard before. He looked at the other two women to see they were similarly affected. It evoked sorrows and all the heartaches of past memories. Such was the intensity of passionate skill of the performer that Yunbok put down his brush, unable to continue. It could only be Myung-hee. What was it that was weighing on her? When the tune finally died away, they remained in silent reflection for a long moment.
Yunbok sighed before picking up the brush again. He doubted if they would ever know the story behind that song. A cough at the door caught their attention. It was Suk-kwon who came to tell Iseul master Bae desired her presence that evening. It was another conference. They looked at Yunbok who nodded and cast a significant look in the direction of Myung-hee's room. He must have found something. That would mean they might be going home soon. Their mood lifted immediately.
That evening, after seeing off Suk-kwon, Iseul and Jeong-hyang, Hak-sun finished his chores and was preparing for an early night as he was not on duty when there came a loud rap on the door. Who could that be? He was surprised to see Bong-eun outside. Primed by gossips and suspicions, he was immediately on his guard. What did she want with him?
"May I come in?" she said coolly.
"Of course," he said easily. Hardly having any words to exchange with her in the time he was at the gibang, he wondered what was the urgency that impelled her to seek him out. As he closed the door behind her, he had a singular suspicion. There was only one reason she would find him. "Is there something you wanted?" he said as she stepped further in and cast an eye around the room.
"You know how to use that sword of yours?" she said abruptly, her eyes on the sword he had hung on the wall.
"Why do you want to know?" He cocked his head at her, relaxed but tensed. If she could spot the mark, she knew more than anyone else at the gibang.
"You need not play games. You are a sword for hire, are you not? That mark on the scabbard says it all," she said sanguinely, for she was sure she had made no mistake.
"Have you sought our services before?"
"Sought?" A bark of laughter. "Yes, I did indeed hire one of your friends once. He carried out the job impeccably and was well rewarded."
"What job was that?" he wanted to know. "If you have hired one of us..."
"Is there a need to attest my reliability?" She turned around to stare at him. If she was trying to intimidate, it was not going to work. The coldness of her personality slide pass. "The belated master Yoo's demise," she said finally, smiling in amusement. "You must have heard of it."
"Indeed," he said thoughtfully. So she did not do the killing herself but he was not going to rely on such assumptions. He dropped all pretenses. Whatever it was she intended, he needed to know. "What is it you want of me?"
"I know you are hired to protect master Bae's property but this task has nothing to do with her so there is no clash."
"What is the job?" He did not believe her of course. Inevitably, all things were linked in one way or another.
"You will be well paid." She untied a heavy pouch from under her chima and held it out. "Two hundred."
"Tell me," he said, accepting the pouch.
Choe was in an expensive mood as he strolled along the street, on his way to the gibang. What should he do that night? But he had already decided, had he not? He had spent the rest of the day planning out his agenda. Yes, yes, that was what he would do. Follow the agenda. Visions rolled delightfully through his head, his heartbeat picked up, sweat rolled off his forehead. He could not wait to get started so he picked up his pace. So engrossed was he with his daydreams that he did not return the greetings of the gisaeng, to their surprise.
Like the needle of a compass, his feet took him through the garden, up the stairs and to Myung-hee's room. The door was opened. She was waiting for him. The sight pleased him. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he closed the door behind him. The man was practically drooling. What was on his mind was glaring out of his feverish eyes. He sat down at the prepared soban and waited expectantly.
She held out her hand. "Where is the gift?"
"What is this? Is this the way a gibang operates?" His eyes glittered with amusement.
"Very well." She reached for the wine jug on the soban but he grabbed her arm before she could fill the cup.
"Not the wine tonight nor the daegeum, dancing or even sijo," his teeth gleamed as he smiled coaxingly. "I want something else. Which you have denied me ever since that night. I have been patient, no more."
"Is that really what you want?" His grip was too tight for her to pull away. "Then you have to let go of my arm, or do you want the soban as a companion?" She looked down at the soban between them.
"What is wood compared to flesh?" He smiled with anticipation as he released her arm.
"Truly?" she said as she got up and moved around to him, seating herself behind him. He closed his eyes as she massaged his shoulders. "Perhaps you would like a taste of this?"
"What...?"
With a sudden wrench, she locked her arm under his chin and pulled his head back against her. He froze when he felt the sharp edge of a blade against his neck. The strain on his neck was painful but he dared not move. All lustful desire drained away like rushing water from a broken cask.
"You can't do this!" he gasped with shock and terror. Was she going to kill him outright? But she could not do that! His mind gibbered wildly.
"No? Have you never ever asked yourself what happened to the one before you? Surely you must have heard about his accident?" It was tempting. How she wanted to run the blade across his neck, ear to ear. "As he was not indispensable, so are you. There is always someone else who can take your place. Did you ever realize that? Or are you too busy giving rein to your deplorable slovenly indulgences to use what little intelligence you have? I have tolerated you long enough. This is the only warning I will give you. Now, where is the gift?"
"Ehh..."
He scrabbled frantically in his coat and brought out a piece of paper. The blade was sinking in, he was sure of it. He went over backwards, his head hitting the floor when she removed the blade to take the paper and let go of him. Fearfully, he felt his neck and looked at his hand. There was no blood.
"How can you do this to me?! I have been so devoted to you these two years!" he spat, ignoring his gat dangling to one side off his head as he sat up.
"You call it devotion?" She did not look at him as she moved away, being more interested in the message. "Harassing and hounding for my attention almost every day is not devotion. It's obsession."
"Call it what you want, I have been faithful!" He went red when she laughed.
"I wish you turn it on your own wife instead. I want none of it," she said dismissively.
"You want none of mine but you want it from that young fellow, don't you?" he spat angrily. "That painter!"
"What are you talking about now?" she said in a bored voice, holding the paper to the candle and watching it disintegrate into ashes.
"You know what I am talking about!" He was nearly frothing at the mouth in his fury. "Do you think I am blind? I've seen the way you look at him. Are you hoping he would whisper your name? While he..."
"Be silent!" she snapped, wishing she had drawn the blade across his throat earlier. "You are a lout, base born and ill news all round."
"Call me names but that doesn't change anything," he sneered before leaning forward to make sure she marked what he said. "But he rejected you, didn't he? It usually doesn't take long for any man to be charmed into spending the night with you but I know he has not so he must have refused. How that must have galled you!" he laughed disdainfully.
She revised her estimation of his wit. "Your intelligence is as little and worst than the two frogs in the folk tales. They could not see anything even if they stood on top of a mountain. Do you think of nothing else?" she mocked.
"You think you are clever." He stood up and walked to the door. "We shall see." On that ominous note, he left.
The painter would have to be warned. She sighed. Choe was easy to read as a bull in rage. He would sharpen his horns and charge at his target in his madness. Nothing would satisfy him until his victim lay bloody and beaten. She had seen it too often. However, this time, there was deranged frenzy in his eyes. Whatever he was going to do, it would be rash and brutal. Best she did it tonight, any delay could be costly.
The letter was written quickly. Walking out to the verandah, she called one of the servants to her and sent him on his way. One thing she was certain of, the painter could take care of himself. The way he had thrown Choe that afternoon spoke of his mastery in martial skills. But even then, one could not stand against many. She hoped he would be able to vanquish his foes for they still had unfinished business and her time was running out. Soon, soon, she muttered to herself as she gazed at the night sky.
Yunbok was sorting out the paintings when a servant called outside his room. There was a letter for him. Who would be sending him letters at this time? His eyebrows shot up as he read it.
"The bull has girded itself. Rage shall ever drive him till the ground is red. - Myung-hee"
Ahh, she was giving him a warning about Choe. Something must have happened and the merchant was out to get him in earnest. As if he did not have enough troubles already, he snorted. He doubted the next encounter the merchant arranged would be as amiable as the one at the jumak. There was no help for it, he would have to be extra vigilant. He glanced out of the window, another few hours to third watch. Blowing out the candle, he lay down in his bedding but he was unable to sleep. If he succeeded in his task, what would happen to Myung-hee? Silly, he chided himself. She would be arrested of course. Hauled to Hanseong perhaps and put on trial. Death awaited her. A pang hit him. Did it have to happen that way? Why, why did she do what she did? Was it really all because of her dead lover?
The knock on the door was imperceptible and became louder when there was no response. He jerked awake as a series of rapid taps sounded. Sleep had overcome him after all. He got up and was about to open the door when he hesitated. Was it friend or foe? Retreating a few steps, he called out softly. "Who's that?"
"What do you mean, who's that, rascal? Do you know what time it is?!" came Suk-kwon's annoyed voice. "Everyone's waiting for you."
"Oh. Just a moment." Feeling a little silly over his fears, Yunbok hastily gathered up the paper tube and opened the door. "Sorry."
"Come on. Better grab hold of my jacket, you might stumble." Suk-kwon had not lighted a candle for fear of attracting attention to the clandestine meeting.
"What, the blind leading the blind?" Yunbok chortled softly but grabbed hold of the back of Suk-kwon's jeogori nevertheless.
The darkness was so encompassing that it was amazing the older man could see where he was going. Presently, they arrived at master Bae's study room. A single candle was lit, casting everyone's faces into ghostly visages as they huddled closely, leaving an empty space in the center.
"What have you found?" asked Suk-kwon.
"Take a look at these two drawings." Tapping out the prepared drawings from the paper tube, Yunbok put them in the center space. "What do you see?"
"Hmm." Suk-kwon glanced at the two. Both of them were of Myung-hee and her guests. He turned the drawings this way and that before shaking his head. He passed them to master Bae who frowned so hard that Yunbok had to hide a smile at the deep furrow that creased the old man's forehead. It looked as if he was about to split his face into two. But he could not figure it out either and handed the drawings to Jeong-hyang and Iseul who examined it minutely as the two men.
One was of Myung-hee welcoming her guests, a cynical expression on her face as she looked at one of the men. Iseul peered closer. Was it cynical or mocking? All of them were wealthy men. It was hardly a surprise. The second drawing was of her seeing off a guest in the morning. The same man she was looking at in the first drawing who still seemed to be very much inebriated for his face was flushed. There was something, she frowned.
"See anything?" Yunbok asked, seeing her frown.
"I'm not sure what it is," she muttered. "But it's there." She exchanged paintings with Jeong-hyang who mirrored her observation.
"It's not surprising really. What you're looking for is the difference between the two. You only need to focus on the man, nothing else." Yunbok pointed out before turning to the other two. "The men she spends the night with are all dandies. No soldiers, no fishermen. There's a reason for that. You have sent people to spy on their every move and they did nothing out of the ordinary. That is because they are ordinary. They are not her accomplices. Merely her tools."
"Wait, are you saying it's this ornament on his coat?" Jeong-hyang said suddenly as she huddled over the painting with Iseul.
"Ah!" Yunbok smiled. "That's what I surmise."
"What ornament?" Suk-kwon almost snatched the drawings out of Jeong-hyang's hands. Master Bae peered eagerly from the side, his beard quivering with excitement. Where was it?
"She used our vanity against us." Yunbok shook his head at the simplicity of it. "Only rich men can afford to dress themselves up. From pouches to tassels to beads to maedeup, jwilbuchae, jangdo. What's one more pretty bauble on the coat? No one would know."
"This is no ornament, is it?" The object was so tiny that Suk-kwon had to squint. "Why did you draw it so small?!" he complained, struggling to make out what it was.
"Really, master, it's ridiculous for me to draw anything less than true view. Besides I have no reason to focus on that."
"What is it really?" master Bae took away the drawing from Suk-kwon and put it very close to his face.
"It's not a maedeup because maedeups are flat and open. It's a Kumihimo braid." Yunbok gently tried to pull the paper away from the old man, afraid he would go cross-eye from the strain but old master Bae stubbornly held on to it, wishing to see for himself the item in question.
"How do you know that?" Jeong-hyang asked curiously.
"I remembered seeing something like that at the marketplace and went to take a look. That type of braid is evident on a few foreign swords on display." From his sleeve, Yunbok drew out a Kumihimo braid. "I asked the proprietor who identified it for me. His wife is a foreign descendent who was taught the skill. I saw her braiding the cords."
"Wait, how do you hide a message in that?" Master Bae put down the paintings to pick up the braid from Yunbok's hand. It was spongy in his hand.
"It's hollow. I believe you can insert a thin piece of paper into the braid after interlacing the strands."
"I can't believe we missed this." Suk-kwon slapped his face. It sounded improbable to him but he had no reason to doubt Yunbok's hypothesis as yet.
"It's hidden in plain sight with the tassels as you can see. Anyone would think it's just part of the waist cord," Yunbok pointed to the waist cord of the man in the drawing.
"Alright, who would retrieve it from these men?" Suk-kwon thumped his thighs with determination. Now all that remained was to prove that the braid was indeed the method of interchanges.
"You said they did nothing but go home and rest. What about somebody sneaking in to steal it?" Master Bae put down the painting he had put before his eyes again, blinking rapidly for he had strained them.
"That's possible though there were no reported no break-ins," Suk-kwon thought it highly unlikely. It was just too much trouble just to steal such a small item. It had to be something simpler.
"Can it be a servant?" Jeong-hyang suggested.
"There're too many possibilities," Suk-kwon sighed.
"To pay any of the men's servants to do it would leave too many similar imprints on different people," Iseul commented. "They have to keep it simple and in plain sight, like the braid."
"Perhaps it's removed before the men reached home?" Jeong-hyang suggested. "They tend to be drunk, aren't they?"
"That's true," nodded master Bae. "A drunken man would not notice anything untoward."
"When will Choe next send on a message?" Yunbok rolled up the two drawings before slotting them back into the paper tube.
"He visited her three times today," reminded Suk-kwon meaningfully.
"That must be it. She did not dismiss him on the third visit because he has to hand her the message. You would have to send a few more men this time to keep track of the man she next entertained." A thought struck Yunbok as he turned over Jeong-hyang's suggestion. "Were there no significant incidents before?"
"I would have mentioned it," Suk-kwon shook his head. "No, the fact that my men made no such report meant they saw nothing untoward with drunken men who weaved and knocked into people. It is what everyone expects."
"Someone will have to alert the thief. I wonder who?" master Bae fiddled with the braid, pulling it this way and that.
"Bong-eun?" Jeng-hyang suggested. "She can go where she likes without rousing suspicion."
"She's an even worst target to track since she runs so many errands," Suk-kwon bemoaned. "She has every excuse to visit every single merchant, every peddler and whoever else in this town!" That was an exaggeration of course but everyone perceived his meaning.
"We should concentrate on the next customer and watch him closely," master Bae said, having succeeded in running his small finger into the braid. He pulled it again, trying to see if he could made an opening big enough to insert an object.
"Once the braid is spotted and confirmed, someone will be close by to keep an eye on it," affirmed Suk-kwon. Now that they knew what to look for, it should go off smoothly. "What?" he said as he noticed Yunbok's worried look.
"I have a problem." Taking out Myung-hee's letter, he handed it to Suk-kwon who gave a low snort after reading it. The letter made its way to Jeong-hyang's hands.
"Merchant Choe?" she asked, anxiety clouding her face.
"Who else?"
Iseul did not think it was a good sign. "She sent a warning to you, it can only mean one thing."
"I know. I'll keep my distance from him," said Yunbok.
"We can't remove Choe yet. That will alert the other side." Irritation and worry was evident in Suk-kwon's voice. "You will just have to be extra vigilant. I suggest you stopped visiting the gibang at night. Go during the day. Oh wait, why not just stopped visiting altogether now that you have accomplished the mission?"
Much as Yunbok would like to do what Suk-kwon suggested, it was not feasible. "I can't do that until you confirm my findings."
"All right, two of my men will take turns to back you up," Suk-kwon sighed, wishing he could hustle Yunbok off to a safe place. "Just don't go wandering off into small alleys, keep to the main streets."
"We are done?" Master Bae looked at all of them who nodded in agreement. "Then everyone, your next meeting is with your beddings."
Quiet chuckles met this announcement but the other four took the hint and left. Jeong-hyang gave Yunbok a hug when they stopped outside his room. "Promise me you will grow a third eye behind your head," she said.
"Oh my, what will that turn me into?" he laughed, patting her back reassuringly. "I will be careful. You've better go."
"Hold my jacket," Suk-kwon whispered before leading Jeong-hyang and Iseul away.
Although the night was warm, Yunbok chose to close the windows completely. After making sure the door was locked, did he go to bed. By the time he got up the next morning, Jeong-hyang had already left with Iseul, much to his disappointment. He unsheathed the hosindo changpogeom to check its condition. Satisfied the blade was oiled and keen, he snicked it back into the sheath. Time to get going.
There was no incident at the tavern when he passed it that morning. Choe would not be so foolish as to arrange an attack from there again, Yunbok was sure of it. But where? The day passed uneventfully for he spent it in Iseul's room once more. With them, he temporarily pushed away his problems and relaxed, enjoying the music of the gayageum and the breeze that swept through the windows and doors. He did not see Myung-hee at all by the time he left but he stopped to have a word with Hak-sun to thank him for the risk he took to try to calm the horse down.
"It is what I should do, sir." Hak-sun wished he could tell Yunbok about Bong-eun's visit. "I'm glad nothing happened."
Yunbok handed over a package of seafood delicacies he had picked up during his trip to the marketplace for his noon meal. "A token of my thanks."
"Sir," Hak-sun added after bowing his thanks and Yunbok turned to leave. "Take care of yourself."
"I will," Yunbok assured him, not surprised by the emphasis on the last statement.
As he made his way to the gates, he ran into the person he would like to meet less. If looks could kill, he would have been bleeding from a dozen wounds from the hatred stabbing out from Choe's eyes as they passed each other at the gates. He fancied he heard the man's teeth grinding. Would he snap like a dog?
Choe wanted to pummel Yunbok. The temptation was so strong he was shaking. The sight of the painter was like an irritating splinter he could not get rid of no matter how he scratched, bit or poked. If he had the fellow under his hands, how he would make him suffer first before he unmade him. His fury rose higher and higher that not a gisaeng was willing to entertain him, such was his thunderous countenance. Instead of making a fuss as they expected, he turned about and marched out through the gates.
The next day was uneventful as well. However, Yunbok had the feeling someone was following him. Was it Suk-kwon's man or somebody else? He did not try to spot whoever it was and continued to the gibang. Myung-hee seemed to be missing but from the others, he learned that she had taken newly arrived gisaeng to the hojang. It seemed his theory would not be proven anytime soon. Time was running out. He quelled his anxiety. How many days before master Danwon arrive? He counted mentally as he sat at the pavilion beside the lotus pond of the gibang, painting a young gisaeng who pouted with disappointment when he did not seem to hear her comments. About six days left if master Danwon arrived on schedule.
Strong was his wish to remove this threat to his old master before he left for his mission. Would it be possible? Once more he tried to fathom Myung-hee's reasons to work for a foreign power. Was she brainwashed into doing it? How and by what method could a person as intelligent as Myung-hee be convinced to betray her own country? Was the heart as weak as that? Was that what passion could do to a person? So lost in his cogitation was he that he did not realize it was dusk.
When he did, he hurriedly left the gibang, feeling Suk-kwon's disapproving eyes behind him. Night had fallen but nothing happened, much to his relief when he reached the Bae residence. As he approached the house, he was surprised to see someone in the garden. It was Kyoung-mi with her maid holding a lantern, walking leisurely rounds. The sight of her brought forth the realisation that he had not seen her since the day of picnic, not even when he returned to the Bae residence in the evenings. What had she been doing? Keen to know her state of mind, he approached them.
Kyoung-mi looked up at the sound of footsteps and smiled when she saw him. "Cousin."
"I haven't seen you these few days. How are you doing?" he asked solicitously.
"I am doing well, cousin."
She knew what he was asking really. She had been thinking over the words spoken to her by different people since that day. From her uncle, her cousin Young-joon, from him, his wife and finally the gisaeng. All with the same theme. Release, live, start anew. The words from the gisaeng struck the truest barb of all. Already she had begun to feel anger and frustration with him. Anger which she feared would turn to hatred eventually. If she continued this way, then she would have lost herself. As the gisaeng had warned. She would have to let go but it was difficult. Easy to say, difficult to do.
"I'm glad to hear that," he hesitated. "It's six days to Daeseo."
"I know, cousin." Six days before they returned to Uiryeong was the unspoken statement. That was the projected schedule. "My health is better, I think.," she took a deep breath. She would have to take the plunge to tell him of her new resolve before her weakness took over. He had stopped listening to her however as he stood looking over her shoulder. "I want ..."
"Get back to the house!" he interrupted urgently. "Now!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. "Get your mistress back to the house and alert the master!" he shouted to Jae-hwa who stared at him in confusion before she turned to see what had alarmed him. Horror filled her.
"What...?" Bewildered, Kyoung-mi turned to look as Jae-hwa tugged urgently at her.
Masked men were dropping off the walls and running towards Yunbok. Retreating was not an option, it would just draw these men to the house where too many people would get hurt. A flash of steel as the first man reached Yunbok who had drawn his sword the moment he saw the silver flashes in the moonlight. The blades rang sharply as they met.
"Go! Go!" Kyoung-mi shouted to Jae-hwa who dropped the lantern and ran for the house, screaming shrilly. The screams roused the entire household and servants began to rush up.
How many were there? Four? Five? Yunbok did not bother to count, using the scabbard in his left hand to counter and block his opponent before landing a cut across his sword arm. That man screamed and retreated quickly, clutching his spurting wound but five more stepped up. Choe! It must be him, he was sure of it. He had sent the assassins to finish him off. Someone came running in from the wall, roaring a battle cry. It was Suk-kwon's man, the one he met at the tavern. He rushed one of the five nearest to him as he ran up.
Taking advantage of their distraction at that shout, he swiped his scabbard towards the nearest assassin. It was blocked but Yunbok got under the the man's guard to inflict a deep cut on the sword arm. Slow, they were slow. These men were not really professionals, he realized as the man fell wailing to the ground. Thugs? The smell of blood was making him a little sick but he pressed on, hoping to disable rather than kill. Out of the corner of his eye, his companion had similarly disabled two more men. The man in front of him was the only one left and he was aware of it. He retreated. Yunbok was not inclined to follow. Suk-kwon's man had other ideas though, he advanced and attacked. A flurry of strokes and the last man fell to the ground, fatally stabbed. Did he have to kill him?
Sickened, he looked away. The attackers lay where they were, afraid to move. Relief surged through him at having survived this second encounter. More glaring was the thought that Choe would have to be removed as soon as possible. A return to Uiryeong was out of the question with an adversary at his back. He started to turn away to the house when shouts rang out.
"Watch out!
"Get down!"
Then a shriek. "No!"
He spun around when something heavy hit him from behind and knocked him to the ground. It happened so fast that he could not stop his forward fall. The extra weight made it a painful landing. His sword and scabbard flew out of his hands.
"Get that archer!" Someone ran past as he lay there stunned. What had just happened?
"What ...?" he twisted around and was horrified to find it was Kyoung-mi lying on him. The arrow sticking out from her right shoulder was a shock. It was then he realised she had shielded him from an archer, possibly from the top of the wall. "Kyoung-mi!" He heaved her up, careful of the arrow. "Say something!" He looked up as help finally arrived from the house.
"I'm all right," she said, wishing to soothe away the anxiety and horror away from his eyes as he looked back down at her.
"You're all right?" he echoed inanely. "How can you be all right with an arrow in you?" She had to live, surely she would live, he thought, stamping down on his panic.
"Here, let us see to her," master Bae said as he hurried up, distressed to see what had happened. "You, get a physician and a woman healer. You, get her into the house and alert the mistress and the maids!" he rapped out rapidly to the servants who rushed off immediately. "The rest of you, checked those men. If any are alive, tie them up and then see to their wounds. Bring the dead to the main courtyard."
A servant rushed up amidst the chaos, waving a letter. "Mr Ahn! There's a letter for you!"
"I'll read it later!" Yunbok snapped angrily, emotions running high.
"But sir, the messenger says it's urgent!" the servant insisted, aware of edgy tempers.
"Of all the..." Yunbok handed Kyoung-mi over to the servants before he stood up to snatch away the letter to read it. He turned pale at the contents.
'If you value her life, come to the east hill overlooking the port. Follow the eastern trail. Now.'
There was no signature.
"Wait," Kyoung-mi said weakly as a servant heaved her onto his back and stood up. "Cousin, what is it?"
"It's nothing. Get her into the house." Controlling his voice with great effort, Yunbok said quietly but glared at the servant to do as he said. The man obeyed quickly with Jae-hwa following behind.
"What does the letter say?" Master Bae pulled Yunbok aside. He read the letter Yun-bok thrust at him. "Who is this she ..," he began before his eyes widened. "Not..."
"I don't know." Agitation and panic was riling Yunbok up. "I have to go. May I borrow a horse?"
"Go, but arm yourself," master Bae said and stopped Yunbok as he headed for the sword and scabbard on the ground. "Wait, check at the gibang first. She could be safe and sound there and this is just a trap to lure you. The writer did not mention who is this person he's holding. I'll get two of my servants to follow you."
"You are right, sir. I'll do that."
Yunbok grabbed the sword and scabbard on the ground before running to the stables. Two servants ran after, kindled torches and followed him out. Let her be there, he prayed, as he rode for the gibang. The gisaeng were surprised to see him arriving on a horse, splattered with dirt and blood at such an hour. Mindful that he could jeopardize his task, he told them he had an urgent message for Iseul from master Bae, waving away their worried enquiries over the blood. His anxiety deepened when they told him she was not around, neither was Sun-yun or the two servants. Where did they go? The gisaeng had no idea but Myung-hee had spoken to Iseul before they left. With great effort, he thanked them politely and walked to his horse when he would rather run. Where were they?
He took a moment to consider. Was it a bluff? Perhaps he could wait until he found Jeong-hyang and the rest. Would that be a mistake? Coming to a decision, he sent the two servants to search, overriding their protests. One to the hojang, another to the markets in town. Perhaps Jeong-hyang and the rest decided to buy something from the market in town. He headed to the east hill alone. Suk-kwon would be furious if he knew.
All the worst things that could happen came to mind. It was all he could do not to run his horse too fast over the dark terrain. In his preoccupation, he almost missed the trail that cut away from the main road. He was forced to slow down when the trail became rougher. Eventually the trail wound up the hill. A flat clearing came into sight. There was only one person waiting. A woman. He glanced about warily, other than her and a torch planted on the ground, there seemed to be no other. Perhaps she had men further down out of sight?
Dismounting, he led the horse to a tree and tied the reins to the trunk. The cloaked woman did not turn. Surely she heard the horse? Warily, he peered searchingly at the trees as he went nearer. All was quiet. The sea glistened under the light of the moon. The torch flickered in the wind. Tiny lights from the town gleamed like stars in the darkness.
"You came as I thought you would," the woman said as he approached. It was Myung-hee.
"I have no time for games. Why did you call me here?" he grated.
"You are upset, I don't blame you." She turned around. Her eyes widened as she took in the dirt and blood on his coat. "But what has happened? There's blood on you."
"Your bull came calling. My cousin took an arrow meant for me." He wished she would just state what was it she wanted. Where was Jeong-hyang?
"Is she dead?" she asked with mild curiosity.
"No, tell me why you send that letter." His eyes flicked to the sea, ignoring her smile.
"Still so careful," she shook her head. "Did you think I would not notice? The answer is there for all to see."
"Enough, either state your purpose or I can leave you to spend your words with the air around here," he reined in his impatience. Was she going to keep beating about the bush?
"Very well, since you want it plain and simple. No more gaming with words shall we?" Myung-hee looked out to the sea. "An ultimatum. I give you two days to consider it."
"What is it?" He could guess it actually. The moment she lined it out as a final proposal.
"A choice. Sun-yun's life. Do you want her alive or dead?"
Ah, but she already knew which way he would jump but there was really no entertainment if she did not give him the illusion of free will. The last and final answer lay with him. Would he fall?
Did she really have Jeong-hyang, Iseul and the rest at her mercy? He was positive she was running a bluff but with lives at stake, he could not take the risk of calling it.
"If I want her alive, what do I do?" he said slowly, weighing his options.
"You already know the answer." She regarded his profile with amusement and regret. How remarkable she would find another so comparable to what she had lost. What a finale to her journey.
"Then we are done for this night." He turned to go.
"Don't disappoint me," she said, halting him. "I have such high hopes for you." She moved closer as he turned to look at her, anger blazing at her. "Achieve the potential I see in you," she smiled when he frowned, trying to decipher her meaning. He stiffened in shock when she gripped his face in her hands.
"What are you..," he began to say as he started to pull away.
Shock held him frozen when he felt her lips on his. It was so utterly foreign he couldn't think for a moment. He grabbed her arms and tried to pull them away but she was surprisingly strong. He tried to retreat but a hand gripped the back of his head. He stumbled, his gat fell off when he lost his balance and fell. The next thing he knew, he was staring up at her, her weight on him and the cold ground under his back.
"Nothing to say?" she arched an eyebrow at him.
He stared at her wide eyed. "What...what was that?!"
"Something that I learned, somewhere. Foreign," she smiled, trailing a finger down his neck. "It has been so long. You don't know what it is, do you?" she laughed. "But then, no one else do," she whispered as she leaned in.
He reeled at the unexpected assailment. He wasn't prepared for the feelings she was lighting up in him. Everything seemed to go confusingly mad, fused into a kaleidoscope of scent, taste, a rush of heat and frantic beating of heart. There was nowhere he could retreat to. He tried to shove her off and failed. When she released him a moment later as she saw fit, he could only glare at her impotently.
"That was uncalled for!" he rasped furiously and pushed her away, rolling to his feet. He shook his head to get rid of the brief dizziness, snatched up the sword he had dropped and his gat from the ground and stomped away. He wanted to pound someone to the ground.
"Aren't you going to ask her whereabouts?" she called.
"I have two days, don't I?" he said without turning around. "If she is dead, you can meet my blade then. Of that I can assure you." He mounted the horse and rode away.
A faint smile played around her lips as she watched him ride away. Her dead lover was not as sagacious as this young fellow but then, she suspected the trials this painter had faced were more arduous. That she had upset his equilibrium for taking that liberty with him, that was certain. It was enjoyable, to throw him into turmoil. She never had this much fun before. She laughed. Her game, her rules. The final pieces would be in place soon.