Disclaimer: The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of Sungkyunkwan Scandal.

Author's Note: Thank you very much to R Unworldly for the review!

Chapter Two

While Yong-ha made his way to the bookseller's, Iseul, her grandmother, and their servant were walking towards their home in the artisans' section of the city. Their neighborhood was not rich, but it was respectable, quiet, and safe. The residents were generally too devoted to their work to meddle in each others' business, and had few valuables other than the tools of their respective trades, which were of little interest to thieves and other criminal elements.

Madam Park smiled as she walked down the street on her granddaughter's arm, confident that even though she couldn't see where she was going, Iseul wouldn't let her fall. "It smells like autumn is coming," she remarked, taking a deep breath. The usual miasma of city living didn't hang as heavily in the air these days; the winter winds sweeping down from the north were beginning to fight back.

"It is getting colder," Iseul confirmed, and chuckled. "Perhaps you should become a perfumer instead, Halmeonim. Even though you can't see, your sense of smell is remarkable."

Her grandmother laughed. "I'll think about that if I ever have to start working again," she replied, "but fortunately, it doesn't look like I do, thanks to your father's change of heart.

"I actually wrote to him when I started going blind," she confided. "I asked him to provide even just a small amount for you, reminding him that you were his daughter and he was responsible for you. When he died without saying or doing anything, I thought he had forgotten, but now I see he heeded my request after all. I'm so glad." Madam Park smiled and patted Iseul's hand. "Soon, you'll be able to stop working, and marry and have a family of your own."

Iseul gave the aged hand a gentle squeeze. "Yes, Halmeonim," she agreed, even as she exchanged glances with Chin-hae, who was walking behind them.

Only they knew that Iseul's father, Ma Hong-do, had replied to the request with a strongly worded denial, and had agreed to let Madam Park go on thinking that he had simply neglected to answer the letter. At the time, she was still reeling from the loss of Iseul's grandfather, and they feared that another upset would kill her.

The truth, therefore, was that Iseul did not have an inheritance. She had simply just figured out a way to earn some more money.

After leaving Madam Park at home and in the care of Chin-hae's wife, who was also the Kims' cook-housekeeper, and Kyeo-ul, the family dog, Iseul and Chin-hae then set off for the Bang residence. The Bangs, a chungin family of modest wealth and importance, lived in a slightly more affluent part of town. The daughter of the house was one of Iseul's students.

Chin-hae waited with Iseul at the gate until a maid came to accompany her inside. The manservant bowed as he took his leave. "Have a good lesson, agasshi."

"Thank you, Chin-hae," she replied. "Please come back for me in two hours, after you have finished your errands."

"I will."

After pausing to make sure her clothes were free of dog hair, Iseul stepped through the gate and followed the maid—a different one from last time, but they were all young and silent—into the house. The Bangs' home wasn't particularly opulent and she was generally treated with stiff formality even by the servants, but Iseul loved coming there to give painting lessons.

The first reason was because her student, Bang Jung-hwa, was a sweet young girl, and one of the few in residence who treated Iseul like a friend. "Seonsaengnim!" she chirped happily when Iseul was escorted to the room where their lessons were conducted. Instead of paper, brushes and paints, a dish of sliced pears sat on the low table in front of her. "Come, let's eat!"

"You go ahead," she demurred, glancing sideways at the maid still hovering in the doorway. "I'll get our things ready while you have your snack."

"But, seonsaengnim," her student replied with a little pout, "I can't eat all of this by myself. You must help me or else it will go to waste."

Iseul smiled self-consciously. "Well, if you insist." Even though she could now accept the offer without losing face, she still felt uneasy accepting the treats that Jung-hwa pressed on her, especially in front of the servants. She couldn't afford to have the people in this house, of all places, thinking that she was shirking her duties, and frittering away the Bangs' time and money.

The girl dismissed the maid with an order to bring them drinks, and the painting lesson started off the way it always did, with a snack and Jung-hwa chattering about her day. As with the refreshments, the conversation made Iseul uncomfortable, but she nevertheless let the girl talk all she wanted because she had an ulterior motive for doing so—she was hoping to catch tidbits of gossip about the rest of the family, and one family member in particular.

The object of her ulterior motive (and the other main reason why she enjoyed coming to the Bang residence) made his appearance as teacher and student worked their way through their tea and fruit. Just as she had earlier, Jung-hwa beamed at the sight of the new arrival. "Orabeoni! I thought you were supposed to come back tomorrow!"

Bang Jung-soo, a good-looking, affable young man about Iseul's age, smiled at his sister. "My business trip ended early," he replied. "There was no reason to stay, and every reason to come back." He bowed politely to his sister's teacher. "Hello, Teacher Kim."

She returned the courtesy, hoping that she didn't look as flustered as she felt. "Hello, Master Bang." At least her voice didn't sound shaky or breathless.

"Have you eaten?" Jung-hwa asked him. "You must join us and have some fruit and tea."

Her brother answered that he would he happy to, and sat down between them at the table. "How are my sister's lessons coming along?" he asked Iseul in a conversational tone.

"Very well, sir," she answered diplomatically. To be honest, it always took a certain degree of effort to get Jung-hwa to concentrate on her lessons, but the girl was also good-hearted and eager to make friends that it was difficult to say anything bad about her. "The young lady is a most enthusiastic student."

Jung-hwa ducked her head modestly. "My paintings still aren't very good," she confessed.

"They will improve," Iseul assured her. "You must work hard at your craft, that's all."

"Listen to your teacher, Jung-hwa," Jung-soo advised. "She knows what she is talking about."

As he spoke, he glanced at Iseul and gave her a comradely smile. She smiled back, feeling her cheeks grow warm but willing herself to remain calm and poised. It appeared that after weeks of trying to subtly place herself in Bang Jung-soo's sights, she had finally made an impression on him, and a favorable one at that. She wasn't going to destroy that by acting like a giddy young miss; especially not now, when she had the wherewithal to go forward in her plan to win his heart.

Master Hwang had just closed up for the day when he heard a rapping noise near the back of the shop. "Right on time, as always," he murmured. It was a shame that Hwa-jae was so prompt when collecting payments. Holding a money bag heavy with coins was a simple joy that the bookseller did not experience often enough.

The money always changed hands at the bookshop's rear door, which faced a deserted building that had once been a basket weaver's shop. Even though it was very dim in the narrow alley between the two structures, the people who took turns coming for the payments—sometimes it was a large man, other times a young woman or an ahjumma—always took care to keep their faces in shadow. Hwang thought this entire business of concealing identities was a little overwrought, but supposed artists were allowed their little eccentricities.

Hwang found the man standing at the door. (Once, the bookseller had made the mistake of trying to sneak a peek at his face, and got his ears boxed for his troubles. Hwang's head still rang whenever he thought about it.)

"Good evening, sir," he greeted the new arrival. "I have your payment right here."

He held out the money bag to his visitor, who took it with a grunt of thanks. All of Hwa-jae's agents tended to say very little, speaking only when it was important.

"All three paintings were picked up today," Hwang went on over the quiet clink of coins being counted. "The buyers were well pleased and indicated they might order more."

"Indicated," the other man repeated.

"Yes. I shall let you know when they actually place their orders."

He grunted again, then put the money away with a curt nod of satisfaction.

It was a sign that the man was preparing to take his leave. "It was a pleasure, as always, to do business with you," Master Hwang said by way of farewell.

The other man nodded again. "Good night."

The bookseller watched his mysterious visitor vanish into the growing darkness. The women he disregarded, but he used to wonder whether the man who came to collect the payments was Hwa-jae himself. After the time he got his ears boxed, Hwang concluded that the man was too ham-handed to be responsible for such delicate works of art.

"Did you have a good lesson, agasshi?"

Iseul smiled at Chin-hae as she approached the gate to the Bang estate, where he waited in order to escort her home. "Yes, thank you," she replied. "It went very well."

She bade farewell to the servant who had accompanied her from the house and waited until she and Chin-hae had proceeded some distance before speaking again. "Did you get my 'inheritance' from Master Hwang?" she asked him, her voice low so that it wouldn't carry in the still night air.

They had been doing business with the bookseller for years now, ever since Iseul had hit on the idea of drawing illustrations for erotic texts, but Chin-hae was still uneasy about discussing their dealings with him. The servant cleared his throat before mumbling, "Yes, agasshi. Two hundred and ten yang for three paintings, just as you agreed. I counted it to make sure."

Iseul couldn't hold back the small noise of satisfaction as he dropped the purse into her hands. She hadn't been sure if anyone would be interested in commissioning artwork, but Chin-hae told her that many people loved Hwa-jae's illustrations, so she had gone ahead and indicated (through the reluctant manservant, of course) to a few booksellers that original artwork could be available for a price. It was flattering to know that her work, no matter how distasteful it may be to some, was held in such high esteem by others that they were willing to pay dearly for it.

"Master Hwang says that the buyer might want to order more," he went on.

"Oh," she answered, "I hope so."