Gyeongchip / Chunbun 1795

"No, I'm sure it's not her," Jeong-hyang said firmly. Suk-kwon's grim but poised composure was a dismaying sight. Iseul had confided much during the journey to the mountain retreat. She would hate to have her friend's hopes and dreams shattered by suspicion. "I know her, I grew up with her. She will not do such a thing."

"I don't think it's her either. Think, master," Yunbok said earnestly, after the initial shock had worn off. "She does not know of our assignment. She left for her errand before autumn and only came here to look after Jeong-hyang at your request. You asked her to come, didn't you?"

"I did." There was a slight sagging to Suk-kwon's stiff shoulders. "So I did," he rubbed his face with relief. "It slipped my mind." An admission of how much Iseul had affected him? Yunbok hid a smile.

"Master Suk-kwon, you really need to speak to her." Jeong-hyang hoped she was not too presumptious but she felt she ought to plea for Iseul. "She has told me many things during the journey... please, just...," she stopped, unable to put it into words. She had no desire to pressure Suk-kwon. It was his life, his decision but she hoped he would be fair to Iseul.

"Shijaki banida," Yunbok said. "The first step has already been taken, don't throw away the opportunity that is open to you now."

Silence. Suk-kwon frowned. After a while, he coughed. "... so, there is no one else to consider," he said, returning to the former subject. They meant well but he needed time to think it over. Yunbok exchanged a wry glance with Jeong-hyang. There was no point in pressing the issue.

"Since there is nothing to be done at the moment concerning the leak, I should think I can go back to painting," said Yunbok.

"As to that, Cheol-yu came with a summons. Master Danwon has left for the capital," Suk-kwon revealed. The timing was bad for it meant Hong-do would pick up a couple of tails definitely. "He may not return so quickly," he looked meaningfully at Yunbok who understood. "Since work is suspended for now, take the time to rest and heal."

It was an opportunity for Yunbok to reforge the bridge to P'ado but would he take it?

"I'm sick of lying down," Jeong-hyang complained softly.

"How about going out to the porch? Can you stand up?" Yunbok got up and extended a hand to Jeong-hyang. With Suk-kwon's additional aid, she made her slow and careful way outside.

"Ooohh but this is good!" she exclaimed, relishing the fresh air and warmth of the sun. Yunbok leaned against a post, pleased with her joy and turned his face to the rays of the sun. He missed his routine activities, the chores of spring. Going to the seodang, coming home to warmth.

"Perhaps we could have our own Samjit-nal," suggested Suk-kwon, his eyes flicking to the corridor leading off the main hall as he spotted movements. Iseul, Song-mi and Soon-joo. Cleaning the rooms from the looks of it. "Even though we're not home, we should not miss it."

"Samjit-nal is more than two weeks away, it's a little early," Yunbok said without opening his eyes.

"You know what I mean, do we really have to wait?" snorted Suk-kwon. "You'll probably be stuck in that room again when the day comes."

"Aboji! Aboji!" a voice called eagerly, interrupting what Yunbok was about to say. They turned to see Pokkot running up to them, sheafs of papers in her hands as P'ado followed more slowly with Jinjia in tow. "See what I have done." She presented the papers to a smiling Yunbok and sat down beside him as he looked through them.

The discussion on Samjit-nal was suspended as they turned to Pokkot's paintings. Chatter filled the air as the paintings were passed around, commented and deliberated over. The sound carried over into the corridor as two women exited the room. Two pairs of eyes watched the family gathering, their gaze affixed wistfully on different targets. One with a deep feeling of lost while the other with sadness. One wishing her fate had been different, the other knowing she should not harbour false hopes.

Shaking her head, Iseul turned to go and stopped short when she saw the unhappiness on her companion's face. Following her gaze, her heart sank when she saw her eyes on Yun-bok. What was on her mind? Jeong-hyang had expressed her worry that Song-mi felt deep acrimony towards Yunbok for his past action. Iseul thought there might be something else involved. As if aware she was showing her feelings blatently, the other woman turned away to head for the next room. Should she mention this to her friend? Or should she try to find out what Song-mi was thinking of?

Song-mi avoided her gaze as she entered the next room, incidentally the one she was sharing with Jeong-hyang. Knowing the other would not speak of her momentary indiscretion, Iseul set to cleaning the premises. There would be opportunities to investigate later. The gathering was still at the porch when they moved to the sarang, deliberating over a picnic. Suk-kwon could not help but glance at her as she passed. She ignored his gaze, opting to pretend he was not there. If he really wanted to do something about their liaison, he would have to take the step, she was not going to put herself out.

Unaware of Iseul's determination, Suk-kwon stared after her, somewhat miffed by her cold-shoulder. It was deliberate, he knew. Women! Did he have to do all the talking? It felt awkward to be the one to do the chasing but he did the same with Mi-gyeong, did he not? Why did it feel so different now? Realising he was staring blankly at the space where Iseul had been, he turned back to see P'ado's huge grin. The boy looked away when he glared but his amusement did not die. Wait till he himself was in similar straits, he would have plenty to say then.

Hanseong

Outside, the smell of budding flowers beckoned, the sound of faraway voices in the city tiny and inaudible. To those in the room, the only thing that could be heard was the low baritone of the speaker. He paused now and then to wet his lips before continuing his recital. The brush swept back and forth as fast as the writer could move his hand while the man beside him said nothing, eyes closed. It looked as if he was asleep but Bak-young knew better. Yeong-ho was paying attention to whatever was being said. After the fracas that day, contrary to Bak-young's expectations that their prisoner would turned intransigent, Ui-sik continued to provide information. It eased Bak-young's worries so much he was almost smiling.

Yeong-ho was disgruntled though he tried not to show it. His testy tone when he posed his questions betrayed him. It vexed him that Ui-sik did not fly into a rage despite his taunts. Of course, with his arms pinoned by ropes, there was nothing their prisoner could do except shout but he had been disobligingly amiable. Tension thickened palpably as the days went by. Bak-young wondered that Yeong-ho had not blown his top or that he himself had not resigned as he wanted to. His curiosity to know the victims' names and schemes encouraged him to stay on. To know the people involved, what had been planned would allow him to figure out the machinations and objectives.

Of glaring note was the absence of any notable names. Those that were spoken of were mid rank officials. He was not surprised at all by the omission, deliberate or otherwise. It did not matter. Knowing the officials' affiliation was enough to conjecture who they were working for. It amazed him however that Ui-sikg could remember the list of names. Did he have a eidetic memory?

The shadows in the room inched their way across the room. Bak-young breathed a sigh of relief when Yeong-ho called an end to the session. He shook his fingers, cramped and aching from writing. Yeong-ho got up and left the room without another word. Once he was sure the man had gone a distance down the corridor, Ui-sik quickly directed a question at Bak-young for the soldiers would come for him soon.

"I have a question." He drew back slightly when he saw Bak-young's flash of alarm.

"What is it?" Bak-young said, after calming himself.

"Is my sentence determined already?"

"I do not know," Bak-young said cautiously, surprised that Ui-sik wanted to know. Did it matter how many days were left to him? "Once these proceedings is completed, my superior will inform the relevant authority. Final judgment lies with him." There was not any need to name who it was. They both knew in whose hands his fate lie with.

There was no expression at all on Ui-sik's face. "What are my chances of living?"

"Very slim," Bak-young said sympathetically. Despite what this man had done, he could not help but feel sorry for him. It surprised him that he should feel so but perhaps it was Ui-sik's evident remorse that sparked his compassion.

"Does your superior really know where my wife is?"

"He does not." Bak-young did not see the point of continuing Yeong-ho's deception. Why torment someone who was about to die? "We do not know what has happened to her, only that she was sent elsewhere after her release from prison at Hwaseong."

"Sent?" A spark leaped into Ui-sik's eyes which he hid quickly.

The soldiers came in and took him away to his cell, leaving Bak-young to ponder over that glimmer of hope. Deep in thought, he gathered up all the papers and carefully put them into the portable filing cabinet he brought with him. After checking he had missed nothing, he left the room and strolled down the corridor, the cabinet tucked under his arm. Turning into another side corridor, he came to the archives, deposited the cabinet there and locked the room.

As he walked out of the gates, he debated whether he should stop by the marketplace and decided he should. His wife's birthday was approaching soon, there might be some new ornaments he could get for her. The streets were lit and crowded. Moving in and out among the stalls, he glanced over the wares on display distractedly, his mind still on Ui-sik. The interrogation was nearing the end for Ui-sik was recounting events of the previous year. The transcripts would soon be handed over and sentence carried out by next week. What would the man ask for before he die? Bak-young did not think there was any need to guess. His wife of course. It was most curious that he did not ask about his son. How should he described it? Was it obsession when the prisoner persistently focused his energies on the wife to the exclusion of all else? He had never run into anyone like that.

The array of pendants on display at a stall caught his eye. He stopped to look through them. The jade with the bats? Or the one with the exotic looking butterfly? Maybe the chrysanthemum with the elaborate maedup? The coral? As he went down the display, the variety of chim and smoking pipes drew his attention. Long and short, mostly made of bamboo. The more expensive and longer pipes were beautifully lacquered with various patterns etched on them. He examined one the length of his forearm, patterned with trees and cranes. Pleased with the design, he went back down to the previous display and finally picked the coral pendant after a long ponderation.

"Good choices, sir," the stall keeper smiled ingratiatingly as he began to wrap up the pipe carefully. "Gifts for the wife?"

"Indeed. She's agitating for something new for her wardrobe," Bak-young opened his hands helplessly.

"Such gifts are vastly dear to women's hearts. We get no peace if we do not humor them, eh?" the stall keeper chuckled as he handed over the wrapped purchase. He nodded amicably as he received the payment. "Come back any time, sir, there are always new wares to suit every needs of the ladies!" he said as Bak-young moved off. Looking over his customers and wares, he decided he could do with dinner for it was near the end of first watch and sent his assistant off to buy some.

The assistant hurried to do his bidding, making his way to the jumak. While waiting for his order to be filled, he took the opportunity to buy a drink as he shared a table with another customer. The customer ignored him as he finished his dinner. After a while, he moved off and meandered along the Unjongga, yawning now and then as he leisurely fanned himself. Down to Jungchon he went, making sure he was thoroughly mingling with the crowd before he turned into the residential area. The gates of the house opened to his call. He yawned as he strolled through the daecheong of the sarang before halting outside the main study room. A voice bade him to come in when he called. Bowing politely once the door was closed behind him, he sat down, all sleepiness gone from his demeanor.

"Tonight."

The bells tolled for injeon, the peals ringing throughout the city. Those who had not make it back home, hurried to do so. Gradually the streets of the city fell silent as stalls and shops closed. Those at the gibang paid no mind for they had no intention of returning home that night. Revels carried on; music and laughter floating far in the air, mingling with the occasional barking of dogs and the treads of the night watchmen. The city was aglow with lights from homes for there were those who continued to work late into the night.

Hong-do moved the tunggyong nearer to him as he listened to Jo Seok-jung read from the papers in his hands. Now and then, he took notes. His compatriot, Hwang Gi-cheon was simiarly engaged. They had been at this for a few days now, working on the uigwe for the Wonhaeng-eulymo parade. Both men were appointed nangcheong by Jeongjo two weeks ago when he summoned them to the Chungdangdae. As per Yun Haeng-im's recommendation, he himself was appointed to a military position so he could provide the illustrations. It was all an elaborate dance on Haeing-im's part since he already knew what Jeongjo had in mind. Accordingly, he supplied the excuse for the King to act upon.

The uigwe was scheduled to be presented on the 13th of Ipha. More than enough time to complete the screens if he could get himself back to the retreat but he had to know what text had been selected for the book to make any adjustments. And so it was that Hong-do arranged to meet the two nangcheong to go over the verbatim records of the historians. Laboriously picking out the pertinent and momentous events of the entire procession. They were down to the seventh day. He could leave once a final check on the agreed selections was made. They worked late into the night, the candles winding steadily down to the stubs until they almost spluttered out. The flickering lights alerted the men. Fresh candles were lit. As they did so, there came a faint clamor of gongs. An alarm? They looked at one another and peered out of the windows. It seemed to come from the north-eastern direction.

"A fire?" Seok-jung hazarded a guess, glad for the break.

"I don't think so. That's not the cheopjong. Listen." Hong-do pointed to the east of them where they could hear faint shouts followed by the hoofs of horses. "Sounds like..," he frowned as he tried to make out the words. "An escaped prisoner?"

"An escape prisoner?" Gi-cheon'e eyes went round in astonishment. It was unheard of for anyone to escape from jail in the capital. "There must be some mistake."

"They'll never find him," snorted Seok-jung. "If he had help, the chances of recapturing him is slim." He cocked his head towards the Bukchon, the headquarters of the Noron faction. "It must be that special prisoner I hear so much about recently."

"Word is that he was involved in some plot against the King," Gi-cheon said in a low voice. "Isn't there some rumor an entire troop had rebelled?"

"I heard the troop were riffraff impostors from some merchant running a bootleg business. They were caught while attempting to move some goods," Seok-jung sniffed disdainfully at the temerity of such criminals.

"That's the most preposterous thing I ever heard of," protested Gi-cheon. "How can they do that when the King himself was there?"

"Really, with that faction behind them, they try anything. It is common knowledge they are chaffing at the reins."

"Danwon, you were there were you not? Surely you know what happened." Gi-cheon turned to Hong-do who had kept his silence all the while.

"I'm afraid I was too busy with painting to pay attention," Hong-do said apologetically. The faces of the men fell at that disappointing news. "It is no business of ours whether this prisoner escaped or not, we have the uigwe to complete," he reminded them of their assignment.

"We're down to the last day at least," Seok-jung stifled a yawn before picking up the papers Gi-cheon had dumped carelessly on the floor beside him. "The historians will not be too pleased if you mess up their records," he reproved mildly. "Shall we continue?"

As he located where he had left off and resumed reading, Hong-do bent to his notes half-distractedly. Special prisoner. Was that the assassin? What was his name? Ui-sik was it not? Did that alarm had anything to do with him? If he had escaped, where would he go? More importantly, who was it that helped him? If it was the faction, what did they have in mind for him?

Mountain retreat

Gamboling, let's go to collect greens.
What greens shall we gather?
In Dog Dung Field, wild parsley;
Crisply snipped off and bring it to
Parboil in clear stream water ...

The little group sang as they walked through the forest. Using two-forked staffs, they brushed aside bushes and grasses for hidden fresh greens. Now and them, someone would stoop to gather fresh toraji, minari and the like. Presently, they arrived at a small pool fed by a stream. The hwaro was set up under the shade of trees. The freshly picked vegetables were washed and parboiled in the stream water. Laughter and chatter filled the air as saengchae and chapchae were prepared and consumed with relish. Eventually, two of the group got up and strolled a little distance away to a gentle slope blanketed with budding flora.

Spreading out the totchari on the grass, they sat down. The smell of fresh grass and flowers drifted about him and he lay down. The sounds in the background brought about a tranquility that almost lulled him to sleep. The rustle beside him prevented him from doing so however. He smiled when he felt light touches on his face.

"I'm not sleeping," he said without opening his eyes.

"You better not be, it's too good a day to waste on sleep," she said, dropping more little budding flowers onto him. There were too many light touches to be her fingers, he realised.

"What are you doing?" He opened his eyes and picked up whatever it was that landed on his mouth. "You could have just asked me to get up." He brushed off the flowers and whatever it was picking its way on tiny legs across his cheek.

"There is little to do," she sighed, twirling the larger flower in her hands. "We're missing so many things this year."

"Which do you miss most of all?" He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down the slope at the picnicking group by the stream.

"Dalmaji, Dari-bapgi..," she said wistfully as she thought of past festivities she usually participated in. "You?"

"I certainly do not miss working on the footpath," he said as he recalled the backbreaking work usually done in secrecy in the night on the eve of Daeboreum every year.

"That's because you insist on doing it when you could have done something else."

"Come now, I'm just making it safer for the children and everyone else. It's closer to home. I don't have to trip over anything in the dark." He watched as P'ado stretched his hands forth to take something from Iseul. "I don't suppose P'ado miss the Jwibul-nori," he said as the boy made his way to them.

"Aboji, omoni, have some makgeolli and ssam." P'ado proffered the mokpan.

"Spring greens are hard to pass up," Yunbok said, reaching for one of the bowls of makgeolli and giving it to Jeong-hyang before taking the other. "How are your preparations for the hyanggyo?" He took a sip from his bowl.

"It is going well." P'ado put the mokpan on the ground between them and sat down. "Aboji, when are we going home?"

The question had been on his mind daily ever since the family were reunited. However hard he tried to distract himself in revising what he had learned from books taken from the main study, his desire for all of them to go home was too strong to ignore. His entire being was agitating for it that it was hard to concentrate.

"We'll have to wait for master Danwon's return," Yunbok paused. "I'm sorry we have to spend Hansik elsewhere, P'adoa."

"It's all right," P'ado said, rubbing his hands on his knees. "I'm sure omonim will not mind we cannot visit her on that day. We can do that when we return."

"Respects to abonim must not be overlooked" Jeong-hyang reminded him gently. His face darkened. "It's further away but it is time to fulfill your duties."

"I cannot accept such a father," P'ado said angrily. "What he did at the end does not amend for the lives he had taken in his self-indulgence. Did he try to change when he thought he lost omonim and I? No, all he wanted was revenge! All he thought of was himself!"

"Why did you plea for Ui-sik?" Yunbok said evenly, putting down the bowl of makgeolli. "He is no different from Hak-sun."

"His last actions were not for himself."

"It was the same with Hak-sun, his last action was to try to protect omoni. If you can have that compassion for Ui-sik, why not for your own father?"

"He is abonim," P'ado hunched over dejectedly.

"I see." Yunbok glanced sadly at Jeong-hyang, understanding the boy's point all too well.

"Why can't he be like you or ajoshi?" continued P'ado glumly. "What legacy did he leave me?"

"P'adoa," Jeong-hyang said softly, "he did not just give his life for us, he gave it in service to the King for it was he who sent us on that mission."

"He gave it willingly, adamant in his belief it was the right thing to do." Yunbok was sorry he could not hug P'ado as he used to when he was younger as tears welled in the boy's eyes. "Take it for what it is, that last deed was his turning point. He did it for you, for us, for the King, for his country."

"Think it over," urged Jeong-hyang, hoping the boy would find it in himself to forgive Hak-sun. "He need not have done it, he had a choice."

"It is not easy," the boy confessed after a moment, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"It takes time to come to terms. As you grow older, you will come to understand him," Yunbok said encouragingly as he took another sip of makgeolli.

"Aboji, do you have something to tell me? Ajoshi said there is a matter of importance you wish to discuss." P'ado switched tack, deciding to take the opportunity to query them on that oblique statement Suk-kwon had dropped on him. He frowned when they looked at each other uneasily. What was it that made them uncomfortable?

"We do." Yunbok ignored Jeong-hyang's sharp draw of breath. "We do not have permission to tell you. Yet."

"Permission. You're waiting for..," P'ado trailed off as he realised who Yunbok was referring to. "But I thought ajoshi Park said it involves only the three of us."

"We were overruled in this matter." Yunbok wondered at Suk-kwon's oversight but perhaps the older man had too much on his mind. "If he says no, we need not speak about it."

"But.," dismay filled P'ado. Instinctively, he knew if there was no disclosure to clear whatever it was disturbing Yunbok, the underlying problem would continue to plaque their relationship. That it should also involved the king was even more troubling. "Can't you...," he began tentatively; perhaps if he had some hint as to what it was, he could try to work at the problem.

"I cannot go against his wishes." The finality in Yunbok's voice indicated that was the end of the subject. "If he says no, we can go home after the paintings are completed."

If the King gave his consent, what would it mean? P'ado was not sure what it would portend but he could not bring himself to ask. Afraid to hear directly from Yunbok's mouth that it might mean a breakup of the family.

"In the event, we are not around, ajoshi Han will help," added Yunbok, as if reading what was on P'ado's mind. He picked up the mokpan and proffered it to Jeong-hyang so she could take one of the vegetable wrapped meat, to avoid the boy's stricken gaze. "Just as he has always done through the years."

"Will it happen because I cannot accept what it is you wish to tell me." P'ado saw Yunbok's surprise. "Ajoshi told me to listen with an open heart and mind, doesn't that mean I am the one to decide the outcome?"

"That is perceptive of you." Despite the gravity of that statement, Yunbok was pleased with the boy's astuteness. He turned solemn. "The burden is ours for having placed it on you. Whatever it is you decide, we will not blame you. That is all I will say," he shook his head as P'ado made to interrupt, "of this subject. No more of it will I discuss."

That was the end of it, P'ado knew. Until the word was given. Whatever it was that Yunbok wished to tell him would be revealed. Why did he insist on the telling of it? Why was it so important? If he had a choice. His ruminations came to a halt.

"Aboji," he said slowly as the thought took hold. Did he not say the same thing to omoni in his fear? "Since I am the one to decide the outcome of this secret you wish to reveal to me. There is one thing you have forgotten," he said hesitantly and took a deep breath."

"What did I forget?" Yunbok wondered what P'ado wanted to say, there was such a determined glint in his eyes.

"There is another choice." P'ado looked at the people he loved most in the world. "I do not wish to know this secret."

Korean Words

chapchae - various vegetables cooked with meat

minari - water dropwort

Samjit-nal - spring festival

saengchae - a salad of uncooked mixed seasonal vegetables

shijaki banida - starting is half the task

toraji - bellflower root