Daeseol 1781
Through most of the next day, Yunbok continued to sleep. It was in the late afternoon that he was able to sit up by himself. When queried, he admitted that his head still ached and his forearm felt sore. Uncoiling the bandage, Suk-kwon checked the wound. To his relief, the swelling had all but disappeared, leaving behind a pale red blotch with faint indentations of the bite marks. There was no sign of infection. Whether the fast therapeutic effect was due to the honey, he had no idea. He prepared another fresh dressing and bound up the wound. Next he held up his hand before Yunbok.
"How many fingers?" he asked, watching Yunbok's eyes.
Yunbok frowned, staring at the hand before his face. His eyes itched but he desisted from rubbing. "Two."
"Turn your head slowly to the right and left. How does your neck feel?"
"A little stiff." Yunbok felt his nape with relief for it was not as uncomfortable as it was last night.
"Still?" Suk-kwon gently pressed Yunbok's neck. "Hmm, the rigidity has gone but there might be small traces lingering. Take a deep breath."
"Ow." Yunbok winced as his sore left ribs protested as he tried to comply.
"As long as you're breathing normally sitting up like this, there should be no complications. You just need to take the medicine for another two days. If you have other discomforts or pain anywhere, let me know immediately."
Yunbok sighed, rubbing his itching eyes as Jeong-hyang came in with a basin and towel. The silence was broken by the sound of horses and voices outside. Getting up, Suk-kwon went out to investigate.
"Here, wipe your face."
Jeong-hyang handed the towel she had wrung dry to Yunbok. He sighed, half wondering what had happened after he had lost consciousness but apparently, she had chosen to stay around for a while. Or was it permanently? A little leap of happiness at that thought followed by dilemma.
"I supposed Young-joon went home?"
He fingered the towel as he wondered how his friend was. If blame was to be apportioned, he was equally responsible. She took the towel away from him, wrung it out again and proceeded to wipe his neck and hands.
"Hey!" He stared at her, taken aback by her liberty and then wished he hadn't spoken so loudly, it just strengthened the ache in his head.
"Am I so horrid that you can't bear to look at me?"
"Not now, please," he grimaced, deep furrows on his brow. He was about to lay down in his bedding when she moved behind him. The next thing he knew, his head was pillowed in her lap and her fingers along his aching temple. "What are you..," he began.
"Quiet," she scolded softly.
He would have gotten up but it seemed too much effort. Gently, she began to massage his brow. So soothing was it that the ache seemed to lessen. His eyes closed.
"Painter, why are you so certain our fates will never reconciled? Not because of what you are?" she said when he remained silent. "Your last wish is etched in my heart. I would have fulfilled it in the last four years if I could."
"Why not? It cannot be a lack of admirers."
"There is no lack in numbers. There is lack in vision." Her fingers drifted over his face. "How can I choose when their ears are deaf, their tongues are muted, their eyes blind? How can I choose when I unceasingly look for that elusive light in them?"
He caught hold of one of her hands as it slide over his cheek and sat up, ignoring the throb in his head and the flash of pain in his ribs.
"Hyangya." He looked at her hand, the skin so soft and delicate. A contrast against his own rough and tan skin. The sight of it pained him. "I can't."
"Painter, you can't mean that." She shook her head, struggling not to cry.
Turning his head so he wouldn't see her hurt, he said softly, "You are asking the impossible."
"No, you can't mean that.."
The pain in her voice reached into him. He wished there was another way of persuading her to turn away from her course. Perhaps the truth?
"There is a hovering darkness lurking along the fringes. It has many hands that could stretch forth at any time. I will not have you in their path."
The unexpected admission took her by surprise. Her hurt abated slightly. He was only denying her out of concern, not because he no longer feel anything for her. In that moment, she realised the enormity of the ordeal he would face for the rest of his life. Her heart ached.
"I will not have you face them alone.."
His eyes snapped to hers, flashing in anger. "No."
"Painter, even if you denied me, still my choice is made and it will never change. Never, not even in death. Don't you understand?" she said earnestly. "There is no other for me. There never will be. All I want is to share everything with you. Please."
"Do you really know what you're asking?" He reached out to gripe her shoulders. "Do you?" he demanded, searching for the truth in her eyes.
"I am nothing but ashes if you turn away now," she said, baring her feelings unflinchingly.
Joy, fear and grief filled him. He wanted to cry but an inner part of him felt frozen and no tears fell. Words that he wanted to say were choked in his throat and he couldn't voice them. Torn between conflicting desires, he could only capitulate to the plea in her eyes and drew her into an embrace, feeling her silent tears of relief at his acquiesce pooling on his shoulder.
Hyangya, do you know what you have done? You're making it so much harder.
A girl called at the door. Before either of them could respond, it opened. Ae-young walked in with the gayageum. Her eyes widened and she flushed, realising too late she should have waited instead of rushing in. Disentangling herself, Jeong-hyang beckoned to her before she could run out again, indicating she should set down the musical instrument near to her.
"Where did you put our belongings?" she said after seeing there were no other bundles behind Ae-young.
"Ah..master Park put them at...his..," Ae-young directed a significant look in Yunbok's direction,"er...master Seo's house."
Were they to stay with the young man? Did that mean that her mistress and he or rather master Seo, had come to an understanding?
Jeong-hyang glanced at Yunbok but he was hunched over, hands to his temples. His headache must have worsen.
"Then make sure they're stored properly and asked master Park about dinner preparations."
"Yes, mistress." Grabbing the basin and towel on the floor, Ae-young went to the kitchen, sneaking a look at Yunbok as she passed by.
At Jeong-hyang's urging, Yunbok lay himself down in his bedding, feeling as if his head would split. The emotional stress of the previous hour was coming down on him like a boulder. He wished someone would just knock him out again so he wouldn't feel so horrible. As in answer to his prayers, gentle hands began to soothe the tension away and slowly he relaxed. Without realising it, he fell asleep. The next thing he knew, there was the soft plucking tones of the gayageum filling the silence of the room like the flow of crystal clear water.
Turning his head, he drank in the vision of a cherished dream. It didn't seem quite real that she was really there but then, her eyes lifted to meet his and it was as if time had fallen away. Once more they were in that magical world that was theirs alone. How he missed the music, this silent communion that lifted the binding around his heart, filling the void within with dreams he had not dared to hold. His spirit soared. He yearned to paint the songs of her heart. When the music died away, someone sat down next to him.
"Here." Suk-kwon held out a bowl to him.
The smell of the medicine reached Yunbok, rudely dispelling the dream cloud around him. "Ugh. Can't you put in something to make it taste nicer?"
"Sit up, sit up," Suk-kwon ordered, ignoring his complaint.
Smiling at the sour expression on Yunbok's face as he grumpily sat up, Jeong-hyang made her way to the kitchen.
"Now, empty this," Suk-kwon said sternly as he handed the bowl over.
Heaving a sigh, Yunbok took a deep breath, winced at the ache in his ribs and tried to finish off the medicine at one go. He didn't quite make it and had to breathe through his mouth before draining the last quarter. When he lowered the bowl, it was to find a cup of tea thrust under his nose. What a relief to wash away the dreadful taste in his mouth.
"What have you decided?" Suk-kwon asked quietly when he had finished the tea. "Is she to remain?" The conflicted look on his apprentice's face was no surprise to him. "This is between the two of you and need no outside interference but if you want my opinion, this is the one and only chance you will have. Yunbokya," he reached to grip Yunbok's shoulder, "life is a difficult journey to walk alone and yours is strewn with more peril than..."
"That is why I cannot ask her to walk it with me," Yunbok injected.
"You may know her far longer than I do but even I can see that her devotion is like the roots of the pine tree. For four years she has weathered the cold, unyielding in her dedication but even the strongest can be brought down by careless words."
Yunbok swallowed nervously, not certain what Suk-kwon was trying to tell him. "Master, I .."
"Would you rather suffer regrets all your life or face the peril with the one who will always be there with you, for you." When Yunbok didn't answer, Suk-kwon was tempted to knock some sense into him but said instead, "Do not demean her courage with cowardice, that is not you."
Of all the things he thought Suk-kwon to say, the unexpected remark cut Yunbok to the quick. How was it cowardice to not want to place a loved one in danger?
"Why did you let her go four years ago?"
Startled at the question, Yunbok frowned. "I had lied, cheated her of a legitimate prospect because of my own selfish desires. She is the vision of what I wanted to be. I wanted to keep her. I realised I had hurt her, what I did was terribly wrong..."
"You told me your parents were murdered when you were eight years old and your foster father found you, adopted you. For the next ten years, you couldn't remember your own name, where you came from."
"It was all hazy and confusing."
"Then when you confessed the truth to her, that was after you recalled everything, wasn't it?"
"Yes..I.."
"What you did, can not be placed entirely at your feet. Your foster father must bear most of the blame for clouding your mind, twisting your natural self into a form you could not recognise. It sat ill with you, that was why subconsciously, you pursued her. The vision you felt was the real you. You tried to repair the damage but do you know, the wound from the first cut will always remain." Yunbok winced. "But wounds heal. It has been four years. She hasn't forgotten you nor does she hate you. It is time to forge a new road, isn't it?"
Heaving a deep sigh when Yunbok still retained that stubborn look, Suk-kwon said, "Tell me, who are you?"
Brows beetling, Yunbok said slowly, "I am..." He stopped. Who was he? Daughter of Seo Jing, Seo Yun. But he couldn't say it.
Suk-kwon shook his head at his dilemma. "I'd suggest you take some time to think about it and don't be too quick in banishing her." He slapped Yunbok on the shoulder and said in a louder voice, "Now, I want to hear the story of how you met her."
The change in subject didn't suit Yunbok at all but he didn't think Suk-kwon would bother to explain further on that last question. "We met at a cloth shop," he said shortly.
"Aigoo, I think I can get better yarn from the storytellers. Were you buying cloth at the shop?" Suk-kwon prodded.
"I was being chased. I ran into the shop to hide."
"Chased? I can see you attract trouble as moths are to the light, you rascal," Suk-kwon chuckled.
"It's not as if I wanted to," Yunbok muttered, thinking over how a simple painting had lead to so much controversies and deaths. Simple to him perhaps because then, his head was filled with nothing except the desire to draw. What an absolute tyro he was.
"Then what? How did you continue to meet her? I don't think you have the money to patronize the gibang do you?"
"I didn't. She was hired to provide some entertainment at a classmate's birthday party..." A party he was not invited to but he just barged in anyway.
"Well, go on. What then?"
Yunbok shrugged. "I left early but waited for her to leave and managed to persuade her to play her gayageum for me."
"And how much did you pay her?"
"Five nyang."
"Five nyang?" Suk-kwon was incredulous. "Aigoo, how did you charm her into playing for you with just five nyang?"
"I didn't do anything," Yunbok said defensively.
"Really?" Suk-kwon said in disbelief. "I supposed after this, you continued to see her?"
"I...guess so," Yunbok muttered, unwilling to reveal further the events that led him to meet Jeong-hyang three more times when she was still a gisaeng. Once was an unconscious search for help when he deliberately fractured his hand, another when he successfully graduated from Dohwaseo. The last was when he learned she had been sold.
"You guess so?" Suk-kwon eyed him minutely, wondering what was his apprentice hiding. "From what she told me last night, she was sold to a merchant who apparently had a blood feud with you."
"He was responsible for my parents' murder. I discovered who he was after I recovered my memories."
"And you took revenge on him. What happened to him?"
"He was killed off by his partners." What a satisfying outcome it was. A black heart deserved no less.
"Hmm. Why did you leave your previous master or did he tell you to go?"
"I left because he has greater tasks to attend to than to be chained to a troublesome person like me."
"For once, you are right. You are indeed troublesome," Suk-kwon pronounced with a straight face. He broke into laughter at Yunbok's offended glare. "And to keep you out of further trouble, you are staying here...until you have made up your mind."
"What?" Yunbok said in puzzlement.
"Jeong-hyang and her maid are staying at your house. You, have to stay here unless you want to invite even more gossip."
"Oh." The thought of where Jeong-hyang and the maid would be staying had not crossed Yunbok's mind. He was definitely too befuddled to think straight. Another thought struck him. "What are they saying in the village?"
"Nothing good about master Han. There is much curiosity about the lady who came to see you. So much that a group came up, while you were sleeping, to ask about her. I told them she's your betrothed."
"What?!" Yunbok stared at Suk-kwon in horror. "Master, how can you say that!" he spluttered, shocked that the older man made such an arbitrary announcement.
"It did kill off the flock." Seeing Yunbok's incomprehension, Suk-kwon leaned in. "The flock of pigeons that was constantly pestering you or have you forgotten about them? You did tell them you are betrothed to someone."
"But ..how can you..," Yunbok wondered how was he to explain it to Jeong-hyang if any of the villagers questioned her.
"She fully supported the story." The dumbfounded expression on Yunbok's face was priceless. Suk-kwon laughed heartily.
"You..," began Yunbok in outrage but he closed his mouth when Jeong-hyang and Ae-young brought in the dinner they had prepared. Ill at ease in such an unexpected situation, he could only follow Suk-kwon's lead. Dinner was a silent affair, though the older man had no trouble conversing with the women, complimenting on the food. Near the end of the meal, he suddenly realised he had forgotten someone.
"What happened to Young-joon?"
"He went home that night."
"I see."
If Young-joon had gone home, then he was all right. Was his friend still angry with him? Was that why he didn't stay around? How was he to heal the breach, Yunbok wondered.
Guessing what he was thinking, Suk-kwon added, "I sent him away although he wanted to stay. He'll just get in the way."
Discerning his master's major concern, Yunbok couldn't find any fault in his decision. Still, he would have to speak to Young-joon. If only to apologise for unintentionally giving him such heartache. Feeling in need of air, he got to his feet and went out to the porch. The air was biting and chilling. He had forgotten to put on his coat but he didn't feel like going back in so he sat down at the far end of the porch. Staring up at the night sky, he wondered how was he to resolve the conundrum. Should he just accept Jeong-hyang's offer? Or should he refuse it? Either options presented a web of problems he wasn't sure he could deal with. Something soft and warm was flung on him. He looked up, startled.
"Do you want to fall sick?" scolded Jeong-hyang as she pulled his coat around him before sitting down beside him as he mumbled his thanks. "I see master Suk-kwon has told you how he dealt with your ...future prospects."
"Future prospects?" he chuckled thinly. "I don't understand them really."
"Don't you? What woman wouldn't want the qualities you have shown in your thoughtful unsparing generosity? What woman wouldn't want the promise of a thoughtful lover?"
"Ugh." He rubbed his brow wearily and heaved a sigh. "I can't help what they think. My only concern is with the needy."
"What were you going to do if they persisted?"
"With most of them already affianced, it's unlikely they can do anything. But I would leave if they try too hard."
Silence fell between them. Tempted though Jeng-hyang was to seek his opinion on Suk-kwon's solution, she was wary of pressing him too soon for his acceptance of her presence was tenuous. Until he stated his stance where she was concerned, she would just have to wait and see. As she saw it, there was no urgency in the matter. As long as he didn't push her away, she was content to bide her time.
"What happened after you left Hanseong?" he said suddenly.
Pleased that he was curious, she said, "When you told me to get ready to leave, such was the urgency that I hadn't spent much thought on where I could go. On the boat, I tried to think of a place. But it was difficult. My father was the leader of a travelling troupe but we lost touch after I was sold. Anyone I knew before were mostly from the troupe and those at the village where we lived but it was so long ago. I could barely remember the place. If there were other relatives, I knew them not for aboji never mentioned any. Even if I knew of any of them, I doubt they would readily accept me. I was at a lost."
Ahh, to be wrenched away at a young age. It was a story akin to his own. Involuntarily, he reached to take her hand in empathy.
"Staying indefinitely at lodgings of jumak was too dangerous, settling anywhere else, alone," Jeong-hyang shook her head. "People would question. If I had friends in other villages or towns, I would have asked for aid but any friends I have are gisaeng so I wrote to Iseul. We grew up together at the training institution. We maintained contact even after we left for our respective gibang. She offered lodgings so I came here. I took up needlework to earn some income and teach young girls who were recruited. Then one day, a customer of Iseul heard me playing the gayageum and asked if I could not play some tunes for him. As I am no longer a gisaeng, I declined. But he persisted and asked if I could just treat him as a friend, not a customer. All he wanted was music to soothe his cares away. Seeing he was sincere, I agreed but told him I could not accept payment as that would mean I was contravening the law. So he said I could accept gifts from a friend and always brought with him what he called tokens of appreciation."
"What did he bring you?" Yunbok asked curiously.
"It varies. Food, cloth, a piece of jewellery. Through him, I gradually acquired a few others. I had to be careful not to overstep the bounds and had to be stringent. He is a good and kind man. It was unfortunate something went wrong for his business and he decided to retire to his old hometown. Before he left, he handed Ae-young to my care. She was very young then. He asked me to look after her as he did not wish her to seek employment elsewhere."
"I see. I didn't know there are such rules."
"Gisaeng are divided into two categories. Those who have no notable skills are often relegated to providing the only entertainment they are capable of."
"Oh...I see," he said, understanding what she meant at once. "What is the second group you were in?"
"Haengsu gisaeng. Those who are trained in the arts. Dancing, poetry, musical instruments. Haengsu gisaeng have certain freedom in choosing their clients if they were popular but should madam decide she should entertain someone, she has to comply unless she has a reasonable excuse." She absently traced the scar on his hand. "That evil man had done me a good turn by purchasing me. With his death, I'm a free woman. Thus I have more discretion in the calibre of the guests I accept than the haengsu gisaeng who may have almost the same freedom but is bound to the gibang she is sold to. She cannot ever leave the district unless there is official approval."
"Heh, fancy him doing a good deed. Good riddance," he snorted.
"Painter," she hesitated. Should she bring it up? What if it caused him more unhappiness? But she really desired to know more about his background just as he wished to know hers.
"What is it?"
"You never really told me how was it you ended up with the established identity of a man," she said softly. "That night, you only said you had to assume the guise because you had to enter Dohwaseo, to be a royal painter. But that is not the entire story, is it? The way you conducted yourself then, it's too credible to be improvised."
"For that, I have my foster father to thank. After my parents were killed by an assassin sent by Kim Jo-nyeon, he came searching for me because there was no report of a dead child. He had conjectured, rightly, that I had survived. I was able to because omoni hid me under the stove and told me to make no noise, no matter what I hear. Not only did I hear, but I saw them killed before my very eyes."
"Painter," she was horrified, understanding at once the trauma he had gone through.
"I was eight years old then," he continued, keeping his voice low. "The shock was too great, I forgot who I was. Shin Han-pyeong, who was to become my foster father used to visit us occasionally. He knew I have artistic talents. I was found dazed and wandering in the courtyard. I do not know if that was his initial plan and not out of concern for a lost child but I think that was what he planned. When he brought me to his home, he introduced me to his household as a boy. For the next ten years, I was brought up as a boy."
Ten years. As a boy, he was not as limited in freedom as he would be if he were brought up as a girl. Days of thrills and adventures with Young-bok whenever they were free to do as they liked. And then had come the time when everything didn't seem to make sense. When he was summoned by his foster mother.
"It was so complex and confusing," he shook his head as he thought of what his foster mother had told him. "I knew what I am and yet it never occurred to me to question, to say no or..," he paused as he sought to explain it. "Perhaps it was because I could not recall my past. I was happy to do what I was told. Being treated and raised as a boy was perhaps a better reality I could accept. And painting was all I wanted to do. In a way, I suppose ... painting was another means of escape for me. Subconsciously, perhaps, I did not want to remember. My foster father, was of course, pleased I was devoted to art. He would constantly drum into me that I was to bring honour and prestige to the family, to the ancestors by improving my drawing, by becoming a royal painter. My foster brother, Young-bok, was like a bodyguard. Often he was reminded to look after me, to watch out for me when we entered Dohwaseo. It was not until master Danwon was tasked to investigate my parents' murders that I recalled who I was."
She was aghast at the callousness of Yunbok's foster father. "How could anyone twist and make use of a child to fulfill his own ambitions?"
"What's done is done." Yunbok sighed. "I have no regrets that fate had played out the way it had. If I were to succeed at Dohwaseo, if I were to fulfill my foster father's ambitious plan, what do you think would be the consequences if I were found out much later?" Her sharp in-drawn breath was all the answer he needed. He nodded. "I would not be alive today. The shame would cast my foster father's name to the depths."
"You are right," she conceded. "It is better this way."
How strange and enlivening it was, to speak with no fear to someone who understand him completely. It was so unusual Yunbok didn't know what to make of it.
Puzzled by his searching gaze, Jeong-hyang said, "What is it?"
"Nothing. You have not taken your dinner, have you?"
"You came out here without your coat..," she began.
"It's very remiss of me," he got up. "Come, let's go back in."
He pulled her to her feet. She couldn't help but smiled when he hurried her to the door. Perhaps there was hope after all.