Ipchun (eul) 1795
"Keep close, don't wander off," Young-joon said over his shoulder to P'ado as they wound their way through the crowd, looking over the shops as they passed them.
A few shops were closed but most were opened. Silks, fish, hats, paper, cosmetics, was there no painting shop? P'ado looked at the people curiously, half expecting some difference between them and those at Uiryeong. The only dissimilarity he could find was that they did not look as famished and exuded an air of affluence. The absence of drought in the province with proximity to the capital and Hangang ensured a flourishing populace and trade. There was something a little odd in the air however. It was some time before he realised that the dialect was slightly different from those in Uiryeong. It was similar to Yunbok's accent.
A tap on his shoulder drew his attention away from a pair of richly dressed gisaeng, all colours and fluttery to his eyes. The knowing grin on Young-joon's face brought a flush to his face that died away when the older man gestured to the shop next to the one they were standing in front of. The smell of ink, glue and paper hit them when they strolled in. Brushes, meok, pilga and other painting paraphernalia were arrayed near the entrance. Rolls of paintings were stacked on shelves while several were hung prominently on display. The plump proprietor who was hidden behind the back shelves hurried forward when Young-joon called, bowing effusively when he inidcated that he would like to peruse whatever paintings there were available.
"Ahh, yes yes, paintings we have, sir," the proprietor waved around his shop. "Calligraphies, landscapes, chaekgeori, many genre. I hope there is something for you here! However," he hesitated, eyeing Young-joon carefully and tentativey aired his next statement. "Most of them are replicas. I'm afraid the only ones that are genuine comes from unknown artists."
"It is all right," Young-joon said soothingly, taking to the proprietor immediately for his honesty. "I may find something that I like. My nephew here," he waved to P'ado who bowed in greeting, "knows nothing of paintings. I brought him here in the hopes he will learn from an authority in the art."
"It is an honour, sir, I will try my best to help." The proprietor beamed, pleased that his sincerity was received with accord. He turned to the nearest painting. "This is Cheongpunggye, painted by Jeong Seon. As you can see, Mount Inwang forms the backdrop. The grandeur of the cliffs is accentuated by the ink and the brush ..."
As he expounded on the painting, Young-joon beckoned to P'ado to come nearer so he could see better. The painting was like nothing P'ado usually saw in Yunbok's daily work. It depicted people and the surroundings from an unusual perspective. Ordinary and yet not so. Fascinated, he peered at the painting, trying to discern if the painter had hidden something within. Pleased that his customers were attentive, the proprietor's tongue loosen as he enlarged further on his favourite subject. It was the reason why he opened a painting shop in the first place. They went from painting to painting, eventually they ended up sitting at a table near the back, sharing cups of sujeonggwa as the proprietor cheerfully brought down the rolled up paintings from the shelves.
Now and then, someone would wander in to buy something. The proprietor would attend to the customer, leaving them to peruse at will. There were so many. Paintings of literary gatherings, festivities, ceremonies, of the seasons, bold and graceful calligraphy. P'ado gave up trying to remember everything the proprietor said. There was too much to take in.
"Ahhh ... now here, here is something to behold," the proprietor unrolled the next lot of paintings he took from a upper shelf. "These are all replicas of course but they are very close to the originals, I dare say. I try to attend whenever auctions are open though they are very rare now."
"Who is the painter?" P'ado looked down at a scene of peasants kneeling before an official and his retinue. Young-joon's eyebrows shot up.
"These are replicas of Danwon Kim Hong-do's paintings," said the proprietor. "His paintings contained so many interesting details! There, there, do you see that flush on the magistrate's face? It's plain that he is drunk! How can he make proper judgment upon the poor peasants?"
Three heads bent over the paintings, examining them minutely for they captured nuances of ordinary people and events. Black, grey or filled with colours, there was never an end to the debates on the intent of the painter. None noticed the morning had sped away in their engrossment. Little exclaimations and arguments broke out as one or the other spotted something of note about the people in the paintings. Not all were genre paintings. Danwon was skilled in every type of painting and there were many to pore over. When the last replica was rolled up, the three rubbed their eyes and aching backs.
"I'm so sorry," apologised Young-joon when he realised it was afternoon. "I have taken up so much of your time."
"No, no, it is all right with me," the proprietor said genially, waving away the apology. "Most customers I have usually walk in, spend a little time talking about the paintings, buy what they want and walk out. I suppose they do not wish to waste their time as all the sought after paintings are replicas. It is rare to find people who are willing to stay longer and examine a favourite subject of mine."
"I will be pleased to apprise further samples with you but first, may I treat you to lunch?" Young-joon invited, aware of rumblings in his stomach.
"A rare customer indeed!" laughed the proprietor. "We need not go to the jumak, they will be crowded. I usually send someone to get my meals."
"Then let's send him to get three. I must confess I am hungry," Young-joon said ruefully. He followed the chuckling proprietor to the entrance and waited as he called to a young fellow from the next shop. After giving their orders, they returned to the table to find P'ado carefully putting away the paintings they had looked over.
"I've been remiss. I'm master Han of Hansang," Young-joon introduced himself as they tidied up the shelves.
"Ah, I am Go," the proprietor beamed as he cleaned the table. "Are you here on business?"
"A cousin of mine has been mustered for the royal procession so we came along to see the parade."
"Ahhh, the royal procession. That will take place soon! People are excited over it. It will be a grand spectacle." Go sat down with a sigh. "There is talk of dressing up among my neighbours. Dress up! As if the King will look upon everyone and compliment them for their trouble," he shook his head. "My wife wants the best hairpin and norigae there are available. Foolishness!"
"Won't everyone be bowing down when the King passes? What is there for him to see?" P'ado asked curiously.
"The backs of their silly heads!" Go remarked with amusement. "Only when the King passes do we keep our heads down, otherwise we are free to look but not wander about," he paused when someone called outside the shop. "Ah, lunch!"
"Let me get it," Young-joon said, quickly going to the entrance before the older man could heave himself up. He paid the young man, adding an additional coin for his trouble and returned with the chanhap of food. Go offered more sujeonggwa and the lunch of pa-ganghoe (green onion bundles with meat) was consumed in hungry silence.
"There." There was satisfaction in Go's voice as he sat back, replete.
"How long have you been running the shop?" Young-joon asked, desiring to know more about this congenial fellow.
"For the past twenty years or so. I used to stay in Hanseong. My father also ran a art gallery but I was forced to move not long after his passing." Go took a sip of sujeonggwa. "Competition is fierce. There are unscrupulous takeovers of smaller shops by gongin who have an eye to controlling the merchandise conglomerate. Such going ons! I took one look and decided I would rather move elsewhere than wait to be gobbled up. Or worst, to lose my life. Hence, I came here, opened this shop and keep my head down," he lowered his voice in an exaggerated manner.
"You are able to get by on this shop?" Young-joon said with astonishment. It did not seem possible that such a small shop would be able to rake in enough income to pay for rental, taxes and so forth.
"Ah, master Han, an astute point!" Go laughed heartily and got up to move to the shelves to remove a large long box. "It will not have been possible, not possible if not for a very fortunate occurrence." He sat down and placed the box before them. "It is true what you said, this shop raises but a meagre profit. In the long run against the others, it is difficult to sustain but luck was with me," he leaned towards Young-joon. "Do you remember the great painting competition held in Hanseong, master against apprentice, eighteen years ago? Ah! I see you do. Many people placed their stakes on the outcome. Would the master or the apprentice win? As a dealer in paintings, I have an advantage over the others. I have seen the works of both men. I would have placed my stake on the master. After much consideration, I chose neither one."
"Why?" P'ado was not sure he understood. Since he was so confident, placing a bet on Hong-do was the obvious choice.
"Ahh .. for many reasons, young man. Foremost of which is, I know the person who organised the competition. A blackguard of the lowest form. Oh he put on such a facade and airs, prided himself for his business acrumen, his expertise in paintings but everyone knows of his avaricious appetite for power and wealth. His heartless pursuit to consume those weaker than him to expand his own monopoly. Who had not tasted his cruelty, who had not suffered his manipulation? For a student to compete against his master, this act stank to the heavens of blackmail. I was certain this person had a hand in it. After much thought, I decided to stake on a result no one thought would happen. I was very sure neither man would try to attain a victory over the other. I took a risk! I put all my money into the bet!"
Go slapped the table which shook from the force given to it. "And it paid off! What's more, at the end of the competition, that man lost everything! Everything!" he repeated joyfully, much to the amusement of the other two. "He thought he was clever but he ended up paying twice as much to everyone who had made a bet. Ill fortune continued to dog him for he was arrested when his crimes came to light. He was killed when he tried to escape much later. Ahhh, I rejoiced for days!"
Go clapped his hands like a child. Which he did look like at that moment. P'ado repressed his giggles while Young-joon looked away.
Young-joon coughed. "Ah hem, so you amassed a fortune from this event? I presumed you invested it?"
"Indeed. I'm in partnership with other shop owners here. I bought a couple of lands in Wonju which gave me more than adequate returns," Go nodded.
"The paintings in this box ..? " P'ado looked at it, desiring to open it for he had noted the older man handling it with as much regard as Hong-do's paintings.
"Ah, now what's within are all replicas but they are the best I've ever seen. There is nothing to be compared to or as prized as the originals but these come very close. I also stored everything Hyewon had ever done." Go took out the stack of paintings. "This is Danwon's work for the competition. He drew a ssireum match. His apprentice, Hyewon Shin Yunbok drew gisaeng performing the geommu." He spread out the two paintings.
P'ado fought to control his reaction as he looked at the second painting while Young-joon examined it carefully.
"It's too bad I never did get a chance to listen to them expound on the paintings during the questioning by the critiques. I heard each man's explanations were exceptional." Go unrolled the other small stack of paintings. "Here are replicas of Hyewon's works."
"Did you have a chance to meet them?" asked Young-joon, hiding his tension as he waited while P'ado tried hard not to show his profound interest as he scrutinised the paintings.
"I went to the competition. I had to pay for that too," Go said contemptuously, "to get in. I saw them when they each went off to paint. Both of them looked so solemn! Not very happy, I must say, at having to do such a thing."
"What did .. did Hyewon look like?" P'ado glanced at Young-joon, wondering if Go would recognise Yunbok if he ever saw him.
"Oh, he was very young, very young. Why, I would say about your age." Go nodded to P'ado. "Not very tall, a slight pale looking fellow. Looked as if a wind would blow him away. Nobody knows where he went to after the competition. He just disappeared! Which is a mystery. I supposed he was upset at being made used of and did not want such a thing to happen again. Which is a pity because he has such talent. It is not surprising demand for his paintings soared there after. I have never seen such fervent pursue for just a single piece of his work. The auction gatherings were more like... ssireum matches, such aggression has never been more displayed."
They went through the paintings slowly, a mixture of old and recent productions. Some of which Young-joon recognised as those that had been deliberately released in other provinces. The painting of the roosters reminded him of the incident in which a faction agent in Uiryeong was removed before he could carry out the plan to replace the magistrate. Another of a fishing boat sailing by an outcrop of rocks on the sea was probably from Yunbok's visit to Chinhae. The half hidden bottom painting of a trio of bathing women caught his eye. He reached for it at the same time as P'ado.
"Ah ha, I see one of his controversial pieces has taken your attention," Go laughed when he saw their interest in the painting of Dano. "The initial replica was done secretly. What a commotion there was on the day it appeared! Let me ask you, how do you think he managed to paint such a scenery?"
"What do you mean?" Young-joon demurred uncomfortably even as his eyes were glued to the painting.
"It was painted as he had seen it with his very own eyes, don't you think?" Go smiled slyly at him.
"Er, I er .." Young-joon flushed a little as he imagined his friend sneaking around to the forbidden area on Dano day. It did not seem like Yunbok but he was very young then, was he not? Young men tend to do the silliest or the most stupidly dangerous act when the whim caught hold of them.
"What about you, young man?" Go grinned when P'ado simply turned red as he tried to imagine his foster father looking upon a bevy of bathing women, watching them at play and so forth. "There were many speculations and rumors other than the one of his sneaking in and painting this scene. I tell you it's not possible for him to do so. Look at the women; they are at ease, enjoying themselves, unaware there's a man about. Yes, yes, never mind those two trespassers peeping in the painting, that's not important. Not when they only served to remind us of the impositions of men," he dismissed P'ado's tentative attempt to find the answer and leaned forward.
"Some people suggested he paid women to pose for him. Others think that he disguised himself as a woman to enter the forbidden territory on Dano day. There are those who said he's a philanderer and simply drew the women he had affairs with. Many people are inclined towards the last because look, look." Go spread out the paintings. "Although like his master, his paintings reflect the lives of people, there are so many women! Women," he tapped at one to emphasize his point. "There are also many rumors, when he surfaced now and then over the years, of his patronizing the gibang of whichever town he turned up. They only support allegations of his philogyny."
"Ah, so what is your own opinion?" Young-joon said, after exchanging a glance with an annoyed P'ado who had to stop himself from leaping to Yunbok's defense. He struggled not to laugh uproariously. His friend, a philanderer?
"Me." Go pursed his lips and picked up the Dano painting. "He definitely has a fascination for women but his view of them is different from other men. He need not have drawn this but he did. So what is he trying to say?" He put down the painting and looked at the both of them who frowned thoughtfully. "He picked this particular day. Dano, the day when women of all classes could enjoy themselves without any burdens, without restraints. What do you think he showed us?"
"He .. wants to show us women as they are, who and what they are," P'ado smiled, "on the day when their freedom and happiness are unbound with no cares."
"Truly, young man," nodded Go approvingly. "I do not put much credence to the rumors. More often than not, people spend too much time amplifying rumors to their own predilection. Many are those who have crooked thoughts when they viewed his paintings and even less respect for his work when they can have such an opinion of his person!"
"Perhaps it is because of such rumors he chooses to wander," murmured Young-joon before he glanced out of the shop. "I'm afraid we cannot tarry any longer, it is already mid afternoon," he observed with dismay. "P'adoa, which paintings do you like?"
"I..," P'ado hesitated, fingers lingering on the Dano replica, not certain Go would agree to sell it even though it was a copy.
"You like this one? I'll sell it to you gladly since you understand the heart of the painter. Otherwise, I will not do so," Go said cheerfully, rolling up the painting.
"I'll take a few more." Young-joon felt he should buy several, at least to repay for taking up so much of Go's time though he felt the man did not mind at all. He picked a few more paintings of Danwon's and Hyewon's and paid for them. "Come, P'adoa."
"Any time you come to Siheung, please do drop by," Go exhorted, beaming cheerfully as Young-joon promised he would do so before leaving.
Since they had spent longer than he intended at the painting shop, Young-joon did not linger at the other shops, stopping once by the marketplace to buy some food before making his way to the gates. Once they had shown the identity tablets they were issued when they arrived, they followed a path through the fields to the villages south of Siheung. A few men were out in the fields they passed by, examining the ground.
"I have no idea aboji is so talented," P'ado said after looking around to be sure there was no one nearby, his fingers clutching the rolled up paintings. "I mean I do but he has never drawn such pictures at home."
"You know the reason why he hid his talent. Therefore you must be extremely careful. I know I'm repeating myself," Young-joon said apologetically. "But since so many people went to the event, there may be some who might recognise him even after eighteen years."
"I'll be on my guard," P'ado said firmly though his thoughts were still occupied with the painting. "Ajoshi, how do you suppose aboji managed to paint the scene?"
"Still thinking about it?" laughed Young-joon. "The proprietor has a point; the women were utterly relaxed. That meant they did not know he was with them. So how did he do it?"
"Well, he couldn't have paid women or having affairs," P'ado said in a rush. "So..," he found he could not utter what Yunbok must have done. His face and ears turned red.
"Outlandish as it is, he dressed himself up!" chortled Young-joon, tickled by the thought. Once they got back to Uiryeong, he would have something to tease Yunbok with. "He can get away with it. He's not very tall. Youths tend to look like young girls at that age." He stopped to look at P'ado, "You should ask him when you get home."
"That will be difficult," said P'ado with embarrassment, hardly able to imagine Yunbok in women's clothes. He did not think he himself would be able to do any such thing. "It's hard to conceive he would have the audacity to don women's clothes and walked into the restricted area."
"Ahh, you never know what escapades men did when they were young," mused Young-joon reminiscently. "I suppose nothing can stand in a painter's way when inspiration strikes."
"What absurd mischief did you get into, ajoshi?" P'ado asked for he could easily imagine Young-joon getting into scrapes.
"Not very much, not very much," Young-joon said airily, not inclined to discuss the troubles he got into. "I think this is the village," he said as they came by a slab of rock that looked like a bird.
They went past the jangseung and sotdae to enter the village proper. There was no one to be seen along the paths, not even a child. However, heads were spotted over the walls of every home. Everyone, it seemed, was sitting in their respective courtyard. Why were they not in the fields? Spring was the time to prepare the soil for farming. The unusual inactivity cast a strange pall of stillness, at odds with the bustle associated with villages.
Should they leave? P'ado tugged at Yong-joon's sleeve, exchanging puzzled and worried glances with the older man. Young-joon felt they should continue since they had arrived. Where should he start? Looking over the wall of the first house, he spied a man with his back to him, cleaning farming tools while a woman and girl sat with an elderly couple at the porch. None of whom had noticed his presence. They seemed preoccupied, an air of depression about them. What had brought on the malaise? Turning his head, he could see the occupants of other houses with similar mien.
Something was ailing this village. Did it have anything to do with the incident along the road outside Siheung? Whatever it was, they would not find out standing about. Recalling Yunbok's words of caution, Young-joon determined he should first look for this family friend of Hak-sun's. Gesturing to P'ado to follow, he walked to the gate of the first house, calling aloud. The reaction was startling. The man cleaning the farming tools stood up with the hoe in his hands while the woman hastily grabbed hold of the girl beside her. The elderly couple on the porch shrank back in fear.
"What do you want?" the man said coldly. There was a shuffle of running feet. Young-joon turned his head to see people gathering behind him. While a few had inscrutable expressions, most of the men were visibly hostile. P'ado backed up against Young-joon, eyes wide, uncertain at what was going on.
"I am looking for Mun Ui-sik," said Young-joon carefully. Such was the tension that hovered over the crowd behind him that if violence broke out, he was very much afraid neither of them would live. "This young man with me is looking for him because his father left instructions to look for his friend." A soft murmur rolled over the crowd but there was a palpable slackening of antagonism.
"I will bring you to him, follow me." The man put down the hoe as the woman visibly slumped with relief.
Without betraying their relief, Young-joon and P'ado followed the man out to the main path as the crowd parted and dispersed to their own homes. Tempted though he was to question their guide, Young-joon held his tongue. It would be better to query this Mun Ui-sik who might be more amiable to his questions. As they walked to the end of the path, he took in the overall hovel aspect of the houses they passed. A uniform layer of barely perceptable grit also covered the villagers. Why did they look so haggard?
Their guide led them all the way to the end of the village, to a small house right at the edge of the fields. A man was sitting at the porch, mending farming tools. He looked up as their guide hailed him. There was a soft discussion as Young-joon waited with P'ado who cast an eye at the vegetable plot where several straggly sprouts drooped. The man got up.
"You are looking for me? Who are you?" he said, approaching them with suspicion. Young-joon nudged P'ado, indicating he should answer.
"My father, Eun Hak-sun left instructions that I am to look for you." P'ado rummaged in his pack and brought out the letter Hak-sun had left Ui-sik. "He said this will verify my identity."
"Hak-sun!" The smile that lit up Ui-sik's sombre lean face as he took the proffered letter disappeared as fast as it came. "Since you are here, he is dead, isn't he?" He read the letter and sighed. "I was hoping.. but never mind. Please forgive my discourtesy, you are?" He turned to Young-joon who responded with relief at this first sign of cordiality.
"I'm master Han of Hansang," he said.
"Come in," Ui-sik invited, nodding to their guide who left after assured that all was well. "I'm afraid I have little in way of refreshments," he continued apologetically as he opened the door of the house.
"No, no, it is all right. Please accept this." Young-joon handed the large packet of food he had bought.
"But ..," protested Ui-sik, pushing back the packet despite the flash of relief that he was quick to hide. The years of want demanded that he should not take everything but this visitor was not of the village. Wealthy from his fine linen coat, gattken and taesahye. The boy was more simply dressed but his clothes were not as shabby as his own.
"It is just a small token," Young-joon said, refusing to take back the packet.
"Then we must share in it," Ui-sik said, handing the packet over to a woman who appeared from the kitchen with a small boy. "Please," he gestured to the mats on the floor. "I was not expecting a visit from you," he said to P'ado once they had settled down, "though in hindsight I should. I received a letter from Hak-sun many years ago when he was released from prison. He gave me the happy news that his son lived and fully expected to reunite with him. I had thought the worst when there was no further news from him. I hoped he had fulfilled his wish. May I know what had happened to him?"
"Abonim offered his service to my foster father when he learned he had adopted me," P'ado swung easily into the prepared story. "My foster father was on a business trip so his term of service was to end once his business was completed but unfortunately, abonim was killed by robbers while doing his duty."
"Where is your foster father now? Why isn't he with you?" Ui-sik frowned for the story did not sit right with him. Robbers were able to take down Hak-sun?
"He is part of the troops mustered from the south for the royal procession so he is on duty in Hanseong right now." P'ado tried not to show his discomfort in having to lie about the manner of Hak'sun's death. From Ui-sik's expression, he did not believe it either but he could not tell this man the truth. "Ajoshi Han is a family friend so he offered to help me in this task since my foster father is unable to."
"I see," Ui-sik said slowly. "Is he an officer?" he smiled when Young-joon and P'ado glanced at each other, startled. "You said on duty in Hanseong, not Hwaseong. All the mustered troops go to Hwaseong so if your foster father is called to Hanseong, he is an officer, meant for some other duty. The procession will only comprised of the Jangyongyeong and those provincial soldiers who are to guard the King this year."
"You were in the military once before," Young-joon said warily, not at all surprised Hak-sun's friend was also a soldier. He would have to be extra vigilent.
"Yes," Ui-sik nodded. He paused as the woman placed a soban between them, a plate filled with the food Young-joon had brought. "Please, help yourselves."
"We are not in need, please, go ahead." Young-joon gestured to the plate as he took a sip from his cup which was filled with water that tasted somewhat brackish.
"That is all too true, I'm afraid," Ui-sik sighed but could not resist picking up a tteok to bite into it. "This will have been expensive..."
"Please, you need not stand on courtesy. I hope your wife will do likewise," Young-joon urged.
"There, Song-miya, do you hear that?" Ui-sik picked up another tteok and pushed it at her. "Our guests will not care about courtesies when they can see for themselves how fragile you are."
"That is true, mistress, everyone's well-being is the first priority," Young-joon agreed when Song-mi shook her head. "It is rude to decline since I have invited you to eat," he said when she persisted in her refusal. Reluctantly she accepted the tteok but refused to eat in their presence and retreated to the kitchen with her son.
Without further preamble, Ui-sik decided to go straight to the purpose of P'ado's visit. "Hak-sun had a few cultivated lands far north of Uiryeong which he sold after he was released. You know the matter about his brother and what happened to your omoni? He will have told you of course."
"Ajoshi, do you know anything further about omoni? Abonim said she ran away in fear for her life and mine. My foster father found her east of Uiryeong and brought us to his home but days of privation weakened her. She died the next day."
"I see. I do not know what else I can add," Ui-sik said apologetically. "What I know is what Hak-sun told me. That his brother chased her away after destroying much of the credence the others had in her. Of his plan to have mother and child killed secretly but it failed because his hirelings lost track of them. Confident that they were dead after no news of them for a few years, he prepared for Hak-sun's return but his preparations were inadequate."
"How did Hak-sun find out?" Young-joon asked curiously.
"I'm afraid you will not approve of Hak-sun's methods. He threatened his brother after finding his story improbable." Ui-sik had nothing bu contempt for Hak-sun's brother. "Thereafter he took steps to have him killed." There was no trace of condemnation in his statement.
"To kill his brother ..," P'ado murmured.
Ever since he learned the truth, he tried to empathise with Soo-min's sufferings but Yunbok's words had shaken him out of a course of useless torment and thoughts of revenge. He had shifted his focus to the anguish and hatred that drove Hak-sun but even after a month of deliberations, he was still unable to fathom the intensity of his father's relentless animosity to kill those who had no involvement in Soo-min's demise. It was like a sheet of translucent paper through which he could see images but not clearly defined them. Would he ever touch the heart of it?
"It shocks you but you are young," Ui-sik said sympathetically. "I can see you have not gone through trials and tribulations. You are fortunate your foster father adopted you and ensured you have a good life. Do you condemn your father for committing such a heinous act?"
"I feel...I do not have the right to judge or condemn. It is as you said, I have a fortunate life. I think I will not be able to completely understand abonim," P'ado said sadly.
"A little is better than none," consoled Ui-sik. "He was a good man. A more steadfast friend I could never have found. We served together in the military. He aspired to raise through the ranks. He was not a yangban so promotions would not come that easily. But he was determined to make it to the higher grades and worked harder than anyone. It was not to be for our superior officer took a dislike to him and found fault with everything he did. Hak-sun tried to tolerate it but if there's a failing in him, it was his temper. One day he could take no more and dared to disobey the officer. He was discharged with disgrace, after suffering the added insult of floggings. I left of my own accord for I could not stomach such an overbearing superior."
"What did the two of you do?"
"There was nothing for us," Ui-sik snorted in disgust. "We have not the money to start any business so we decided to each return to our own village. Hak-sun was to inherit some land. Lands which he was to look after but he was restless and left it to his younger brother to tend."
"Perhaps that was why his brother felt the lands ought to belong to him?" Young-joon said, surprised that Hak-sun would abandon a duty that was his as the eldest son. Did the younger brother take charge of everything while he went about to do as he would?
"Yes," Ui-sik nodded. "That is what I think too."
"I suppose Hak-sun did not mention if his brother ever brought up the subject of his duty," mused Young-joon. "The brother was not married, I believe."
"No," Ui-sik shook his head. "Due to an illness as a child, he would not be able to beget offspring. If he really wanted a larger share, he should have talked it over with Hak-sun. I believed my friend would see that he had a larger stake since he had been taking care of the lands and home. Hak-sun was not a greedy man."
Such things were difficult to say, Young-joon felt. When it come to matters of inheritance, properties, one might display a vastly different character trait. Too, if there were sons later, all the more one must ensured they had the means to take care of themselves. He did not voice his doubts aloud for Ui-sik clearly believed in Hak-sun's generosity. Neither man saw P'ado's start at the last few statements.
Did his father ever said he would have been willing to give a bigger stake to his brother? P'ado frowned as he tried to recall the words and bit back a sigh as he remembered. No, Hak-sun had emphasized heavily that the properties were meant for his son. Irregardless how his brother had been taking care of it, the bulk of it was his. He doubted his father would agree even if his brother had asked for a bigger portion. It was his right as the elder to deal as he pleased. Perhaps his brother knew how he would think and decided to take what he felt was rightfully his. Why did it have to be so? Was blood ties that weak? P'ado wished Yunbok was around to talk to.
Ui-sik made a gesture to them to wait as he got up to go to the back room and returned with a small chest sometime later. He placed it before P'ado who stared in amazement at the money within it when he opened it.
"This is what he entrusted to me when he came by six years ago. He sold lands and home because he thought both wife and son were dead. If he did not return or make further contact after two years, he told me I can have it."
"You have kept it after you received his letter," Young-joon was impressed with Ui-sik's integrity, "to inform you he had found his son."
"Yes. I was hoping he would return to collect it but he did not. It is yours, P'adoa, son of Hak-sun." Ui-sik pushed the chest towards P'ado.
"Ajoshi... I," P'ado hesitated as he stared at the money. It did not feel right he should just take it. Too, he felt he would be stained if he touch it. "I do not think I have the right to all of it. You have kept faith with abonim all these years, part of it should be yours."
"I agree," Young-joon said in approval. "I am sure Hak-sun will give his support too. It is clear that you can use whatever help there is," he said as tactfully as he could. Would the man take the opening?
"We are in dire straits," admitted Ui-sik, "but no, I will not use what is yours by right."
"I would like to ask," Young-joon seized the chance, "but has something happened? I have to admit I was in fear of my life when I first came to this village. The reception was unexpected."
"I must apologise for my friends and neighbours," Ui-sik said regretfully, "but this village is heavily in debt. The fields you see around you, belonged to the wealthy merchants and officials of Siheung. These three years have not seen a good harvest so none of us have been able to pay our dues to the landowners. We have only managed to pay the taxes for the first year."
"Gyeonggi province is not suffering from the drought that has affected the southern provinces these three years," Young-joon said with bewilderment. "Why are there problems with the crops?"
"That is true," Ui-sik nodded. "The seasons of the past years went their usual course but for some reason we can not explain, our crops did not flourish. We tried our best to find the cause but we failed. The water from the reservoir was tested. It is fresh as the mountain springs. The soil and seeds were examined but nothing was found. Everyone suspects evil spirits abound. Many mudang were invited to perform gut to no avail. Our crops failed one after another." Frustration was rife in Ui-sik.
"Are the other nearby villages having the same setbacks?"
"Our neighbours to the east and west are flourishing. They can not but think we are cursed," Ui-sik said dejectedly. "They feared to be affected and have kept away from us."
"Have you not appealed to the officials for help in investigating the problem?" Young-joon felt no triumph that the suspicions of his friends were borne out. Something was dreadfully wrong with the village. It smelled of corruption to him.
"We tried but our pleas fell on deaf ears. In truth, we would have been able to withstand the failures but we were cheated." Anger leaped to Ui-sik's eyes.
"How so?" Young-joon leaned forward so as to miss nothing, determined to make a clear concise report to Suk-kwon.
"We used to pay half the harvest until a few years ago when the chongye (self-governing body of a village) decided for the good of all, we should attempt to cultivate new lands and construct new embankments for irrigation. It was a difficult venture for all the arable lands were already established. We would be breaking in more difficult ground but the general concensus was that by doing so, the doyobeop will only be one-third. We can do as we wish with the cultivated lands. Accordingly, we set to work. Our task was completed four years ago. When we went to the jilcheong to register the claims, the official at the gongbang told us the lands we cultivated and the new irrigation channels were already in the registry under the names of the landowners. We were furious and went to the magistrate to seek redress. He listened and told the chongye that the official could not have made such a mistake and dismissed them."
"What happened next?" Young-joon said softly for Ui-sik had a crazed light in his eyes, empathising with his fury.
"The curse happened. A new magistrate took over two years ago. We tried to bring our case to his attention but his stance was the same as his predecessor . Our debts accumulated. Last year, there have been groups of men who came to press for payment. These debt collectors became more aggressive recently. In addition, the official at the hobang announced that the grace period given to us is nearing the end. Either we pay up or our homes and everyone else will be sold. We begged them to give us another year's grace. With the cold winter, it is certain the harvests will be good this year. But no, they insisted we have to pay by spring!"
"I can see the reason for the hostility," Young-joon nodded sympathetically. If he were them, he would also act likewise.
"They want to force us out so there will be no counter claims," Ui-sik hissed furiously. "The new lands come up to a third of the existing territory."
"That is considerable." Young-joon was amazed at the amount of work the villagers had put into. He too was angry at the unjustice.
"We can pay neither gunpo nor the doyobeop, we have nowhere to go," Ui-sik said dejectedly. "We can run but we will not abandon our elders."
"Did you try to appeal to the governor or going to Hanseong to place a complaint?"
"We did try but those at the hyeongbang told us we have to wait. The governor was busy handling so many things and so on. The men we sent tried to stay on to see if there was a chance they could see the governor personally but were forced to return. We tried to go to Hanseong but we were not successful either. The men we sent were chased away for disturbing the peace when they tried to see the officials. We hung on grimly, tried to get a few fields going for the last two years but what we raised and the fresh fish we caught was just enough to keep ourselves alive. As it is, we have decided to try to appeal to the King."
"It is fortunate that the royal procession takes place soon. Will the chongye be able to make their plea?"
"I do not know but since you are here, we can better our chances." Ui-sik looked at P'ado hopefully.
"Me?" P'ado did not know what it was he could do to help but he was willing to if there was such an opportunity to address the injustice.
"You are thinking of asking his foster father?" Young-joon said immediately, guessing what Ui-sik had in mind.
"He is an officer, is he not? Perhaps he can ensure that the chongye have the chance to present themselves to the King? We are afraid the magistrate will stop us."
Korean Words
chaekgeori - still life paintings
chongye - self-governing body of a village
gongin - tribute merchants who supplied the government
gunpo - military cloth tax
pa-ganghoe - green onion bundles with meat