Ipchun (eul) 1795
Gate, sentry tower. Hong-do muttered to himself, brow wrinkled slightly as he concentrated on his brushstrokes. His eyes roved along the painted wall of the fortress, mentally counting the number of structures. Small hillocks on the side. The smaller unit of soldiers would need a more delicate touch than his, he would have to leave that to Yunbok. Resting the brush on the pilga, he went back to the top of the painting, checking it over. Did he miss something? He reached out for the small stack of sketches beside him on the floor, flipping through them. A shuffle of footsteps brought his gaze up. He hastily threw down the sketches and got up.
"How are you feeling?" he said when he reached Yunbok who leaned against the door frame of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. His colour was better, he noted and there was clarity in his eyes.
"Was I sick?" Yunbok was puzzled at the horrible taste in his mouth and the wool clouding his thoughts. What had happened?
"You must be hungry. Sit there."
Hong-do was pleased to see he was lucid. He glanced through the open windows of the study room before going to the door. It was dusk, the evening meal should be ready. The corridor was empty when he looked out.
"I have almost finished the draft, take a look at it will you?" he said before hurrying out to find a servant, hoping Yunbok would not leave in his absence. His walking pace became a gallop down the corridor. Where was a servant when you need one?
The maid was surprised and alarmed at his shout when he spotted her passing through the daecheong. Did she do something wrong? His words came at her so fast that she could not make out what he was saying. When she stared at him blankly, Hong-do repeated his instructions. Ah, dinner for two in his room. Before she could answer, he was already halfway back down the corridor. What an impatient man, she thought. With clear orders that the important guests were to be given the best service, she reckoned she had better get to it.
Half expecting to find an empty room, Hong-do nearly crashed open the door of his room in his haste. He was relieved to see Yunbok sitting at the kyongsang, examining the draft. Closing the door softly, he sat down opposite Yunbok, studying him carefully.
"You are leaving the finer details to me, I suppose," said Yunbok as he peered at the drawing. Clapping a hand to his head at his foolishness, Hong-do lit the chwadung in the corner and the candle, brightening the room. "That's better."
"I can't do the finer lines as well as I used to as you know." Hong-do brought the choktae closer, glancing at the windows to see if anyone was looking in. Darkness had already fallen and there was no sign of Suk-kwon. Was he not supposed to be back by now? "I have drawn everything I wanted. If you fill in the rest, the draft is completed."
"What happened earlier?" Putting down the painting, Yunbok gazed at Hong-do who wondered how much he should say.
"You .. don't remember?"
"I ..," Yunbok frowned, struggling to grasp at thoughts that kept slipping away. He shook his head in an attempt to chase away the clouds. "Weren't we at the Haenggung this morning for the award presentation?"
"And?" Hong-do held his breath, muscles coiled. If Yunbok suddenly run for the door, he was not sure he could pin him down but he hoped he could reason with him.
"I wanted to go to Siheung ..," Yunbok blinked as memories flooded back. "I drank something and .. fought with master Suk-kwon?" What was going on? "There was something in the drink, wasn't there?" he said with certainty. That would explain how he was knocked out so fast.
"That's right. You were not yourself. Do you recall?"
"I .. wanted to see Hyangya," Yunbok frowned. Why did he want to go to her? "It was that dream. I dreamt .. she was going away. I did not want her to go." He shivered as the same chill returned. "I.," he placed his hands on the kyongsang to push himself to his feet.
"Look," Hong-do said hastily. "You said it was a dream. A nightmare. It's not real, is it? There's no need to panic. You were probably too tired last night and you did not take your meals today so you were badly affected."
"Even so ..," a mulish look entered Yunbok's eyes.
"Even so, think about it. Suk-kwon has someone at the residence. Surely he would have sent a message if something did happen," Hong-do said persuasively. "Even if he can't send it, Kyoung-mi will try to notify you. Such a message will have reached here by now, am I right? But nothing came today."
At least he was thinking about it than running out, Hong-do thought as he watched Yunbok. Someone called at the door. The maids brought in the soban when he answered, withdrawing once they had set it down.
"You have eaten nothing for the whole day. Have your dinner," urged Hong-do. "You'll feel better."
Reluctantly, Yunbok sat at the soban. The aroma from the hot food drifted to his nose, prickling his appetite. It flared into life as he ate. Heaving a sigh of relief, Hong-do tucked into his own meal: namul bibimbap, gomguk, cheongpo-muk, gyeran-jjim, jogikeot and songhwa-dasik.
"Old master Shin is on his way to Siheung," he revealed as they sipped their drinks after the meal.
Han-pyeong was on his way to Siheung? Yunbok did not understand. "Why?"
"Such was your distress over Jeong-hyang, he volunteered to go and see if she is fine." Hong-do sighed when Yunbok only stared at him. "There was no one to send. None of the five guards can be spared. He should be back tomorrow."
He wondered if Yunbok's antipathy towards Han-pyeong would lessen with this recent deed but doubt it. The hurt that had been done was too deep to be washed away so easily with a singular act. Someone called outside the door. He answered, glad that Suk-kwon was back.
"Oh ho, I see our hothead has recovered," snorted Suk-kwon when he saw Yunbok, pleased to see he had regained his equilibrium. He waved him to silence as he sat down. "I'm late, I know." He reached for the wine bottle on the soban and tossed the remainder of the liquor down his throat. "I tried to find out what I can without addressing those agents from the Uigeumbu directly but," he saw Yunbok's incomprehension and explained. "Short of asking at the seohwadang, I deemed it best to leave the matter alone. We can hope that the case they are investigating has nothing to do with our missing friends."
"But you don't think so, do you?" said Yunbok.
"No. If they are arrested, it will simplify our problem of locating them. Their innocence can be clarified easily. Afterall, they have only recently arrived, what corrupt practices can they be involved in? A boy? A merchant who has no branch office here?"
"They are probably looking into matters pertaining to Siheun," nodded Hong-do, in agreement with Suk-kwon's assessment.
"The only person who has anything to do with the case is this Ui-sik. He is probably an important witness." Yunbok felt a little more light hearted at the positive outlook for P'ado and Young-joon.
"He might be vital in bringing the corrupt officials to justice." Suk-kwon peered at the empty dishes on Hong-do's soban, wishing the maid he had encountered earlier in the courtyard would hurry with his dinner. "He might be successful in his appeal to the King."
"I cannot but fear his associates have other plans in mind," said Yunbok as he handed the plate of songhwa-dasik he hardly touched to Suk-kwon.
"With the Uigeumbu agents keeping a very close watch on the people involved..," Suk-kwon paused to consider his opinion of the agents. "I'm confident they will be able to prevent matters from escalating and resolve the problem at Siheung. This is delicious!"
"Did you notify someone..," Yunbok said with some concern when the sweets disappeared rapidly.
"I did. She's taking her time with it," muttered Suk-kwon petutlantly.
"Shall we continue with our work?" suggested Hong-do when no more opinions were ventured. "Or do you need more rest?"
"Let's finish the draft." Yunbok moved to the desk.
Hong-do was pleased with the brighter, clearer look on Yunbok's face. The food and news had done him some good. Now, if only the news from Siheung was as equally optimistic, all would be well.
Siheung Sohn Residence
With curfew sounded, the streets were mostly empty. Three men made their way along the small path that led to the resident compound in the eastern side of the city. The rider was drooping over his horse, almost toppling over until the soldier walking beside him with a lantern called softly to him, at which he pulled himself upright again. Presently, they arrived at the gates. The leading soldier used the knocker to rap once and called out loudly. They waited patiently for a response which was surprisingly taking a long time. Just as the soldier was about to knock again, there came the sound of running feet. One of the gates opened. A murmur of voices and the gates were thrown open by the servant whose colleague ran off to inform master Sohn.
Trembling with weariness, Han-pyeong nearly fell as he dismounted at the courtyard. The quick hand of the attending soldier prevented the indignity of his landing face first on the ground just as master Sohn arrived. Seeing this, the young man hastily invited him to rest himself at the daecheong, hovering with the attending soldier worriedly as Han-pyeong tried to walk. In the end, both men had to support him on either side. After he was settled, the soldier took his leave, departing with his comrade with warm thanks from both Han-pyeong and master Sohn.
"Sir, your visit is unexpected," the young man said deferentially, waiting until Han-pyeong had taken the refreshment brought before him. He couldn't help but feel some anxiety. Once the old man knew what had happened, ah, surely he would have much to say.
"Ah, I have additional tasks that I have to attend to in Siheung. This is a chance for me to visit my niece whom I have not seen for some time." Han-pyeong regarded the troubled face of master Sohn with a sinking heart. Was Yunbok right to suspect not all was well?
"Sir, I .. do not how to put it to you," the young man said hesitantly.
"Did something befall her?"
"An intruder came into the house during the night. We do not know what he wanted but he was armed. He was discovered sneaking about the guest quarters of the sarang by the servants. He tried to flee through the anbang when they gave chase. There.. was an accident." The young man bowed his head apologetically. He continued when Han-pyeong remained silent. "We believe he tried to take a hostage but your niece prevented it and was injured in the process."
"Is her injury serious?"
"She lost a lot of blood and she has remained unconscious since."
"I wish to see her," demanded Han-pyeong.
Despite his trembling legs, he managed to get to his feet. Master Sohn hurriedly led the way to the anbang. He knew Kyoung-mi was with the patient so he brought Han-pyeong straight to Jeong-hyang's room. The door opened at his call. Kyoung-mi looked out, puzzled to see her husband with a stranger. Her brows cleared when he explained Han-pyeong's presence; she knew Jeong-hyang had no uncle but guessed he was sent by Suk-kwon. She nodded to her husband she would handle the matter. He bowed to Han-pyeong. When the old man said nothing, left for his room.
Han-pyeong stepped into the room and gazed upon the motionless covered figure on the floor. A little girl was sleeping beside her. He assumed she was the second of Yunbok's adopted children. "Has she not awaken at all?" he said.
"I'm afraid not, sir." Kyoung-mi gestured to her maid to bring something for Han-pyeong, more to get rid of her for a while. "Sir, who are you?" she said softly once the maid was gone.
"I'm Shin Han-pyeong."
"Ah, then you are..," she said in amazement. Brother Seo's father? She halted when he put up a hand. "But why are you here, sir? Did something happen at Hwaseong?" she said worriedly, jumping to conclusions.
"He is all right," he said, knowing who she was referring to. "I came here, to see for myself that all is well with his family because for some inexplicable reason, he insisted on returning here to see her this morning and was very agitated."
"Then.." It was startling news to her. How did brother Seo know? Ah, their bond was indeed deep.
"We had to drug him. Hopefully, he has calmed down by now but I can see for myself that he is right to be worried." Han-pyeong sighed as he gazed at Jeong-hyang's pale face.
"This is extraordinary," Kyoung-mi murmured as she turned wondering eyes at Jeong-hyang. "My husband wanted to send a message but I objected as I do not wish him to be disturbed. What can he do if he comes here? To stare at her? I am hoping she will make a recovery before he returns. I do not know if I did the right thing."
"How bad is the injury?"
"A deep cut," Kyoung-mo gestured to her side. "The intruder saw Pokkot outside the door and wanted to take her as a hostage. But Jeong-hyang did not see him and rushed to get her away. He crashed into her with hs sword drawn. The physician said it was fortunate the sword had not cut into vital organs but she has lost too much blood and needs to rest without any disturbance."
"But she is unconscious." Han-pyeong shook his head. Would he be able to put up a convincing facade when he returned?
"The physician said it is normal when a body lost too much blood. The bleeding has stopped, all she needs is time and rest. We have been able to get some liquid food into her. Slowly but surely," she said with a confidence she did not really feel. "Sir, have you any news of my cousin?" That was the next thing that had been on her mind all the while.
"He is at Hwaseong but we have been unable to locate their whereabouts at the moment. We will find them. Or master Park will," he said, assuaging her anxieties.
"I hope so," she murmured with some relief to hear that at least Young-joon had been located. "What are your plans, sir?"
"I will see how she is tomorrow. If she does not wake by the time I leave." His tired shoulders sagged. "I hope I will be able to prevail on the falsehood I need to present."
"You must rest, sir," she said sympathetically. He must have pushed very hard to get to Siheung. "We can discuss this tomorrow. I will have the servant show you to the guest quarters."
Hwaseong Fortress
Slap! Slap! Young-joon rubbed irritably at his neck, certain there were numerous bugs on his person. His back itched. He reached over to scratch, catching the eye of P'ado in the process. The boy grinned for the older man had been wriggling and slapping at himself for most of the day. It must be getting to him, confined in the stuffy underground room with no liberty. He was barely able to tolerate it himself, lodged with three others in such close quarters for a day. Meals had been brought to them by Dae-hyung who always had encouraging words to say, particularly to Ui-sik. Assuring him his wife and son were fine, that there was definitely a chance for him to petition the King.
All of which Ui-sik listened to with assumed gratitude. How long before Dae-hyun and Kyu-seok dropped the act? It was already the fifth day. The King would be leaving soon. They would have to make their move. What were they planning? All within the underground room looked up when the trapdoor opened. Dae-hyun descended. He beckoned to them once he reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Come to the house. There will be people coming here to move the grain. It is not wise to let them see you," he said. "Is he conscious?" he nodded towards the injured man in the corner.
"He is." Ui-sik exchanged a quick glance with P'ado. "Master Han, let's get him up to the house."
Was it a trap? Would they be captured once they got through the trapdoor? P'ado readied the dagger he had in his sleeve as he stood next to Dae-hyun, waiting for the other two to heave the injured man to his feet. Thus far, the agent had been quiescent, sleeping most of the time. He followed Dae-hyun up the stairs once the three men reached them, half-expecting to see men waiting for them at the top. Only the sounds of the oxen in the barn greeted them. The fresh air was bracing, lifting their spirits better than any drink. Dae-hyun closed the trapdoor carefully once the three were cleared of it and led them across the courtyard to his house. Perhaps men were waiting in the house? P'ado looked through the open front door where he could see a lighted oil lamp as he kept close to Dae-hyun but he was disappointed in that expectation as well.
"Here," Dae-hyun opened the door of the back room and beckoned to the three.
"Where is Kyu-seok?" Ui-sik said once the injured man was settled.
"He's meeting the liaison from the dealer down south. There's water to wash in the kitchen and fresh clothes to change into," said Dae-hyun as he went out. "The men will be here soon to move the grain so it is best you not make any sound while you are in here."
"Master Han, why don't you refresh yourself first? We can wait," said Ui-sik, beckoning to P'ado as he sat himself down near the window in the daecheong.
"Yes, ajoshi. Go ahead," P'ado urged as Young-joon demurred. At that, Young-joon was more than glad to get to the kitchen for he wanted to wash away the dirt and sweat of the past few days. Dae-hyun was busy bringing out beddings and quilts as the other two looked on. Was that all there was to it?
"I'll keep watch later, you sleep first," Ui-sik leaned to whisper to P'ado when Dae-hyun vanished into the back room. P'ado nodded, peering out of the window which was opened slightly. There was no one in the coutyard, as far as he could see. It was relatively quiet though he could hear muted sounds from other houses around them. Dae-hyun bustled out again and sat with them.
"I've put three beddings and quilts in the back room. Should there be any visitor, no one will see you," he said.
It was hard to believe that this man was planning to betray Ui-sik. To them, he sounded and acted like a responsible, concern host and friend. Tried as he might, P'ado could not discern any visible clues that there was any plan of betrayal. How disheartenly ordinary was that veneer. Ui-sik only nodded. All three sat there in silence. Presently, Young-joon came back, rubbing his wet hair with a dry towel, dressed in clean clothes and looked much happier. Dae-hyun handed him a comb before going with Ui-sik to the kitchen to refresh the bath water for P'ado. Eventually, all were cleaned up and feeling much better. The injured man was left alone for it was evident he would much rather rest than be disturbed.
The night wore on with no disturbance. P'ado and Young-joon retired to the back room to rest at Ui-sik's urging. As he sat there at the window, he tried once more to determine what Dae-hyun had in mind. He wished he had been able to hear more last night. A tap on his shoulder from Dae-hyun drew his attention to the courtyard. The flickering oil lamp was put out. A dull flash gave him ample warning. He twisted away as Dae-hyun tried to hook his arm. Lunging to his feet, he sprang for the back room, feeling fingers scraped across his back in an attempt to grab his jacket. The sudden light that flared from the backroom door brought him up short.
"There is nowhere to go, Ui-sik."
Siheung, Sohn Residence
Limbs hurting and aching, it was with great difficulty that Han-pyeong managed to get up the next morning. An hour after the drum announced the end of curfew. He had been awaken by the deep boom but could not go back to sleep so he had lain in his bedding, reflecting as he had often done these past years, of his life. The call of the servant finally got him up to wash and breakfast. To his query on the patient, the servant could offer only that the mistress had not awaken yet. Knowing his limbs would only stiffen further if he stayed in the room, he went to the garden. The calls of the birds lulled his troubled spirit. He strolled slowly, looking at the flowers. Some were slowly opening with the light of the morning sun. It reminded him of a particular morning, a conversation that had taken place in a similar setting at the Shin residence.
"Aboji, I have no wish to marry." The young face was respectful but determined as he reiterated his decision once more.
"What nonsense. That is not for you to say or decide." Annoyed, Han-pyeong turned away to look at the flowers.
"If I marry, how am I to take care of Yunbok? You have often reminded me of my duties but I cannot fulfill them if I have a wife," the young man said reasonably.
"It is a duty but it is not as imperative as ensuring that the name of this family is carried on."
"I'm afraid, aboji I cannot do two things at once. If I am to protect Yunbok, I have to be with him everywhere he goes. When he becomes a royal painter, all the more I must stay beside him. If Yunbok succeeds in achieving royal favor, it is likely he will be bestowed with many tasks which might take him to many places. What wife will understand a husband who is always hanging about with his brother throughout his life?"
"You..," he turned angrily to give the boy a piece of his mind despite the validity of his arguments. It was not his place to go against a father's wishes.
"Aboji, if I am to have a choice. I only wish to be with my brother. Isn't that what you want most of all?"
He blinked, tears creeping down his face.
Young-boka, I was so wrong. So wrong. I sacrificed your life and happiness for my own selfish desires, thinking I could have everything at once. Now it is too late. Too late. Foolishness.
He turned away from the flowers, unable to look at them anymore. Too often and too long had he ruminated. Was it not time for him to join his wife and son? Why was he still hanging on to this bitter painful life? It must be punishment for all he had done.
"Sir," the servant wondered what was wrong with the elder guest, he seemed not to have heard him. "Sir?" he tried again, raising his voice.
"Yes?" Han-pyeong gave a start and hurriedly blotted away his tears with his sleeve before turning to face the servant.
"My mistress asked if you would come to mistress Im's room, she is awake."
"Lead on," he said and followed the servant to the anbang. When he stepped into Jeong-hyang's room, all seemed as it was before. But no, the girl was gone and the patient was awake. He met her eyes and knew not what to say.
She remembered him very well. That one night when he had turned up with master Danwon and one other man, furious, shocked and afraid. Despite the tumult of that night, she remembered the fear he tried to hide. Of the three, his fear was the strangest reaction to a son caught with a gisaeng. It was only when she came to know Yunbok's secret that she understood his fear. Today, he merely looked worn, bent, tired and unhappy. She found it hard to believe he had come for Yunbok's sake. No, he came for himself.
"Why are you here, sir," her voice was almost inaudible, weakened as she was. Kyoung-mi had already explained his presence but she wanted to hear it from his own lips. Kyoung-mi was surprised she did not address him as expected but held her tongue, sensing undercurrents of acrimony she did not understand.
"To bring word to him that all is well with you," he said, seating himself near her. "He was not himself the night before and kept insisting he should be here to make sure you are all right. We had to make him sleep as we believed it was the stress and skipping of meals that brought on his distress. Master Danwon however thought there might be some truth to his anxieties. As there was no one to send, I offered to come here."
Yunbok had felt it. Was not her last thought before she lost consciousness of him? When she realised the meaning of the sharp pain that lanced her side, she had been extremely afraid.
"What will you say when you return?" she said.
"That you are in good health." He said nothing when she laughed and grimaced at the pain.
"Not looking like that. You will never convince him, sir." She closed her eyes, wishing Yunbok was there. She was pleased and happy that he knew she needed him but it would not do for him to come. He would drop everything when he realised what had happened to her. That would land him in a lot of trouble. "I will write him a note. That should suffice."
"Sister, you must not exert yourself," Kyoung-mi tried to stop Jeong-hyang as she made to sit up.
"For his sake, I must. Sister, it must be done. You know how he is," she said, obliquely reminding her friend how Yunbok had reacted a few years ago when he learned she had been kidnapped. Kyoung-mi sighed, conceding she was right.
"I will prepare the writing materials. You stay still until all is ready." Kyoung-mi gestured to the maid to help her with the desk before bringing out the writing tools.
"How long before his task is accomplished?" Jeong-hyang looked at Han-pyeong as the women bustled around them.
"At the most, if I ask Danwon, he can delay him for another two weeks."
"No, I think it will be longer than that."
"How can you be so sure?" Han-pyeong was surprised but did not press when she did not answer, sensing it was a matter that did not involve him. "He is doing very well," he added when she said nothing further. There were many questions he wished to ask of her but it was not convenient to do so.
"Omoni! Omoni!" a girl's voice called, getting louder and louder as it came nearer. The door opened abruptly to admit the girl he had seen last night. "You're awake!" a crying wail.
"Aigoo, be careful!" Kyoung-mi said when Pokkot rushed in and dumped herself beside Jeong-hyang. "Omoni is all right, do you see? Now stop crying. A sad face will not help her become better."
A maid came to a huffing stop at the opened door, having chased Pokkot all the way from the main courtyard. She retired gratefully when Kyoung-mi gestured for her to go.
"Omoni is unable to take care of you for a while, so you must listen to ajumoni, Pokkotya." Smiling at the anxious girl, Jeong-hyang touched her face to assure her.
"I'm sorry, omoni ..," bubbled Pokkot, sniffling hard.
"It was an accident." Jeong-hyang knew what she was apologising for. "It's not your fault."
"Is this .," Han-pyeong bit off the question after taking a good look at the girl. Who was she? Did Yunbok ..? But no, he would not have done so, he was sure. Those eyes. The eyes were the same but not the face.
Pokkot remembered her manners to greet the old man, wiping her eyes. "Harabonim."
Harabonim. Harabonim. It cut him to the quick. He looked away to hide the rush of tears. If he had not listened to his greed, the title would have a different meaning.
"All is prepared," Kyoung-mi broke in. Han-pyeong got up to sit by the door to allow the desk to be shifted over to Jeong-hyang. Gently and carefully, they propped her to a sitting position. "You check the dressing," Kyoung-mi said to the maid as she placed herself behind Jeong-hyang, offering her support at the back.
"It's clear," the maid said, after lifting the quilt to check beneath.
"What are you doing, omoni?" Pokkot said in alarm when Jeong-hyang's face whitened further.
"Writing a letter to aboji. Be quiet for a moment, I need to think."
Biting her lips to control her pain, Jeong-hyang took the brush and dipped it into the ink. Her hand shook uncontrollably as waves of dizziness threatened to overcome her. Beads of sweat appeared as she closed her eyes to gain some stability of her senses. Kyoung-mi said nothing, watching her white face anxiously, knowing she would insist on her task.
What to write? What had she been thinking of? She must write her thoughts of the past day, to reflect her mood. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath to marshal her strength, willing her hand to stop trembling. Concentrate, she must concentrate on him. There was no pain, no pain. The brush moved steadily. Back and forth her hand shifted, refreshing the ink now and then. When it was done, Kyoung-mi hastily lowered her to the bedding as a hiss of agony escaped her. The maid removed the brush from her hand before the ink could smear.
"Rest, rest," Kyoung-mi murmured soothingly.
"Wait, let me read it once," Jeong-hyang said as the maid was about to move the desk.
"Here." Kyoung-mi held the paper before her, folding it when her friend nodded her satisfaction. "I'm sure this will set his mind at ease. Now, you must listen to me. No more exertion. Rest and eat well for you must make a full recovery before he returns."
"I know. There is time. I will be standing to greet him on his return." At least, that was what she hoped.
Tucking the letter into an envelope, Kyoung-mi handed it to Han-pyeong, noting a trace of disbelief intermixed with admiration. Why was there such a reaction? As if realising he was revealing too much, he turned away.
"I'll be on my way. Take care of yourself," he said as an afterthought.
"Thank you for making the effort, sir," she said coolly as Kyoung-mi looked at them, curious at the underlying aversion in Jeong-hyang's voice. What was the quarrel between them?
"Omoni, who was that?" Pokkot ventured to ask once she was sure Jeong-hyang had finished her task and the old man had left.
"Just someone who came to visit."
The pain eased into a dull throb. Jeong-hyang slumped with relief, shaking all over. It was most fortunate Yunbok would not be returning soon. If there were additional tasks, there would be further delays which would only provide more time for her to heal properly. He would find out of course but there would not be as much as fuss if he found out later. Anger there would be, of course, for the deception. He would probably spend a few days scolding her before they put the incident behind them.
"Why was he staring at me so?" asked Pokkot. "Is there something wrong with me?" Han-pyeong's stare had made her uncomfortable.
"He probably thinks you look like aboji," Jeong-hyang laughed when the girl made a face at her.
"Everyone thinks I resemble aboji but aboji says I don't. He's the only one to say so," Pokkot fingered the tiny flowers she had plucked from the garden. "Is there ..does he dislike me?"
"Why do you say that?" Jeong-hyang was astonished.
"Pokkotya, if I say you have a mole on your brow, how would you reply?" Kyoung-mi broke in.
"A mole? I don't have a mole." The girl put a hand up to her forehead.
"But there is a mole. Do you see it, sister?" Kyoung-mi pointed towards Pokkot's brow.
"Indeed, now that you mention it," Jeong-hyang agreed, seeing what Kyoung-mi was trying to do.
"I looked in the mirror this morning, ajumoni. There is no mole," Pokkot said in bewilderment, her hands feeling her brow, trying to find the "mole".
"We see it and you don't. Why do you think so?" Kyoung-mi grinned when the girl frowned.
"He cannot see what everyone sees?" Pokkot considered for a moment before shaking her head. "Aboji understands perfectly well," she objected.
"Why do you think aboji does not like you?" That was something Jeong-hyang did not understand. Neither one of the children was given any extra favors or attention over the other.
"I think he does not like me to look like him because he is always annoyed when someone tells him so," unhappiness in the girl's voice.
"Ah... tell me, how you will you feel if I tell you to clean your room every day, at every hour, even though you have already done it?" Jeong-hyang smiled as enlightenment lit up the girl's eyes.
"Oh..," she said.
"Aboji loves you but he gets tired of hearing the same statement. He already knows it. He does not need to hear it all the time."
"I thought he's ashamed of me ..," relief in the girl's voice.
"He's not. You should stop thinking of it so." Mentally, Jeong-hyang made a note to suggest to Yunbok that perhaps he should spend more time with Pokkot. The nights when he was home and relaxed, there were very few personal interactions between him and the girl. "Is there anything you have wanted to ask him?" she asked, as a thought struck her. "You do have something you want of him, don't you?" she persisted when Pokkot hesitated.
"I thought of asking him to teach me to paint but he's always busy with the students' work or teaching oppa," she said finally.
"To paint." Did she have her birth mother's inclination for the art too?
"You can ask for no better teacher," Kyoung-mi smiled, shaking her head. "He is one of the best there is. Ah, here comes your victual," she added as her maid came in bearing a steaming bowl of tarakjuk on a soban.
"Pokkotya, if that is your wish, you must ask him yourself. He will listen," Jeong-hyang said as Kyoung-mi and the maid carefully elevated her with cushions. "If you truly desire to learn, you must approach him," she urged as Pokkot looked at her uncertainly. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"There is no rice without effort, Pokkotya," Kyoung-mi said kindly when the girl only shook her head, not from incomprehension but from reluctance, she felt. When the girl made no answer, she exchanged a glance with Jeong-hyang and said no more. Pokkot would just have to make up her own mind about it.
As Han-pyeong walked back to his room, his mind whirled about in a state of skepticism. It was so hard to credit Hong-do's stories of their affections and yet, he had witnessed it himself. Scandalous tales he had heard, whispered in hush tones at corners, of unacceptable practices between men, especially of those among the travelling troupes. How shocking they were. People reveled in telling the tales to spice up a dull evening. He had always dismissed them as irrelevant, idle gossip but now he had no excuse not to admit there was truth. It roused feelings of discomfort for it was so strange an affair, a profanation of accepted norms. And yet, two grown men of sane acumen had accepted it without question. He wondered if perhaps it was he himself who was unsound. Disturbed, he pushed his queasiness aside. Neither one needed his approval or wanted anything to do with him. What did it matter?
"Sir, are you returning to Siheung?" a voice halted him as he neared his room. He turned to see a stranger of nondescript appearance standing behind him. "If you are, there is a letter to a friend of mine I would trouble you to deliver."
"I am returning to Suwon. I believe I can deliver your letter. Who is it to?"
"The seonjang who is escorting master Danwon."
Hwaseong Fortress Suwon
The lines were orderly. None wanted to appear churlish before the King so they waited patiently for their grain dole. Soldiers and barricades directed the crowd, ensuring a smooth flow as officials helped to expedite the pressure, sending recipients as fast as they could from the Sinpungru. Most tried to get the grain directly from Jeongjo. Those who were fortunate were fervent in their bows and hurried home with their "fortune". At midday, the numbers had dwindled.
The King went to the Naknamheon to hold the banquet for the elderly before heading for an inspection of the Banghwa-suryujeong. As he surveyed the lands from the vantage point at Janganmum, the magistrate was questioned closely on the availability of arable lands and the upkeep of the fortress. To which Jo Sim-tae answered that farmlands under military control were a source of income in maintaining Hwaseong. He spent some time expounding further on financial matters to satisfy the King's concerns.
In the late afternoon, the third of the archery contest was held. The first two contests for the lower and middle ranking officials of both civil and miltary departments had been held the day before. The high ranking ministers were to have their turn that day. Each had practiced privately for many days, hoping to perform well. It would not do to be disciplined publicly before their peers and lower orders. Silence fell as the King stepped forward with his red gakgung. An eunuch presented a yuyeopjeon (arrow) and stepped back. Soft music played as the King took aim and left fly. The spotter at the red target signalled it was a hoek. A drum sounded. Four more volleys were shot and each time, it was a hoek. A fresh target board was put up. The King let fly once more. An inaudible murmur rose among the audience; the King had hit the target in all three practices. The pressure was on the participants to emulate his example or close to it.
One by one, the rest stepped up. Soft music swirled, broken by a drum or a gong signalling a "yang", "yu", "jwabang" or "ubang" as the spotter by the blue target did his duty. As each finished his allotted volleys, he turned to face the King and bowed before retiring. When it was over, most had managed to attain a reasonable score and thus escaped a reprimand. Those who had done well were rewarded and could look forward to the final contest on the morrow, where achievers of the other three previous practices were to compete as well. Something to anticipate for surely, the best would show their mettle and skill. Pleased with the events of the day, the King retired to the Jangnakdang for the evening.
"He never misses. I don't believe he will," Hong-do pronounced to his dining companions that night. "I expect to see the same result tomorrow."
"How do you measure yourself against the King, seonjang?" Yunbok said grinning, avid to hear Suk-kwon's opinion.
"He is the King," the older man stated blandly. "Even if I can, do you think I will do it?"
"Aigoo! Such politic modesty!" Hong-do waved his spoon in the air in disbelief. "Even the arrow will turn against you surely and impale your toe for your false pretensions."
"What ...," began Suk-kwon as Yunbok chuckled. He paused when a voice outside the door called. Yunbok shot to his feet when Han-pyeong appeared at the door, looking wearied.
"Ah, you have returned, sir. Have a seat," said Suk-kwon as he instructed the servant at the door for a fourth set of sujeo. "Have you news?" he said as he closed the door. Yunbok was staring at Han-pyeong with narrowed eyes, reluctant to speak to him and yet desiring an answer. Tension was rife in the room.
Korean Words
cheongpo-muk - mungbean jelly
gakgung - bow made of rhinoceros horn
gomguk - thick beef soup
gyeran-jjim - steamed eggs
jogikeot - pickled yellow croaker
songhwa-dasik - pressed sweets
yuyeopjeon - willow leaf shaped arrow