Ipha 1795
"Why do you call your son Jinjia?" A bee flitted past Yunbok, heading unerringly to its destination; a pink white flower as it bobbed in the wind. It landed precisely on its target and began its work. Its fellows were similarly dancing, scent and colours across the field sending the insects into frenzy.
"To remind myself, that everything around me is real," said Song-mi, twirling a stalk in her hand as she strolled along. "Many times I felt it was only a nightmare. That I would wake up soon, in bed, in the home we once had. I feared I was losing my sanity. When he was born, he became an anchor for me."
"In more ways than one? Do you resent him?" He closed his eyes and turned his face to the blazing sun, welcoming the heat. The fragrance of summer drifting about him.
"No. He brings me joy. I'm afraid whatever he had heard or seen may affect him." She stood still, looking at him, smiling at his enjoyment of the summer before turning sombre. It was an image she wished to retain forever.
He looked at her, pleased that there was no shadows in her face. Her eyes held the same light he remembered of yore. "He is young. He may not remember."
"I'm afraid I made use of him." Taken aback, he stared at her in astonishment.
"I am sorry," she hastened to explain. "Knowing of my son's misunderstanding of mushrooms, I took the opportunity to slip in those bad ones when he created a mess in the kitchen because I did not want to leave here, leave you."
"Did you originally have them with you?" he smiled wryly when she nodded. "You were slipping them into his food, weren't you?"
"Yes," she admitted. "I had thought of collecting the more deadly ones but .."
"Even then, it is not in you to kill." He was glad she had not given in to her hate. "What happened when he ate them?"
"I only used it when it seem he would..," she paused and sighed. "They only served to reduce the pain."
"Song-miya, it is over." He took her hands. "Before you lies an open road. Free to roam and explore as you will. Time is yours to use. The end result will be beautiful if you endeavor to build well with the foundations we have laid for you."
"I will do my best. Where will you go the morrow?" she said, following as he turned away.
"To visit a dear relative before we leave for the coast." He looked up as shadows passed overhead. A flock of birds flying high in the sky. He squinted, trying to make out what they were, raising his hand to shade his eyes.
"Will you write?" A tremor entered her voice. She reached out to pluck his sleeve. "I will miss you."
"I will write when we have settled," he promised as she came nearer. "I will want to know how my sister is doing."
"I wish it is not so." She touched his face lightly. He looked almost the same as he did years ago. Almost. There were lines around his eyes and a inner sadness she could not touch. He had fine lashes, she realised. Involuntarily, she hugged him.
"In time you will find someone of your heart," he said, returning her embrace. "But bear in mind, make him wait till I get a good look at him. I must pass my stamp of approval first, as befits a brother!" A snifling chuckle from her. "Come, I'm sure the food is ready," he disengaged gently. "It's summer, I'm looking forward to sampling the pyonsu mandu halmoni Jung will prepare. I haven't have that for a long time!"
"Why did you have to leave before?"
"Politics do not go well with paintings. That's what I found out, years ago. So I left," he said sadly.
"Do you have family here? Did something happen back then?"
"It's all in the past now. Let's just leave it, shall we?" he smiled at her and pointed out the party by the stream. "I think I smell the food from here."
"Oppa."
He froze for a moment, surprised and turned to her.
"That is who you are." An understanding look passed between them.
"Then come, sister, we'd better hurry before that hungry group gobble up everything."
A languid chorus answered his hail as they approached the party. Suk-kwon was in a heated argument with Hong-do. Cheol-yu and the others too busy enjoying the food to manage anything than a muffled response. Pokkot was sharing something with Jinjia, it looked like candy to him. Jeong-hyang thrust plates out at them; pyonsu mandu. His eyes lit up. He bit into one after dipping it into the sauce. It was as he remembered it: cucumber, beef, pyogo mushrooms, green onions, soy sauce and sesame oil.
"Wipe your mouth," Jeong-hyang nudged him as she sat down beside him while Song-mi went over to the children. "Do I have to do it for you?" she frowned at him when he continued to eat.
"What's the point? I'll only get on more sauce later .. let me be." He turned away when she made to wipe his mouth. "What..!"
"Aigoo! What's that you're doing?" Cheol-yu exclaimed as Jong-gwan and Ban-gung looked on, eyes round.
Jaws dropping, Suk-kwon and Hong-do stared. The old couple, Soon-joo and Iseul were similarly taken aback while Song-mi only smiled. Having seen them during his recuperation from the attack, she was no novice to the endearment. The reactions of those around her nearly made her laugh aloud. The children had not the least idea what was going on.
"Must be something new. What's that called?" Jong-gwan leaned forward, batting his eyes at Yunbok who glared at him, red-faced.
"Nothing," Yunbok coughed, staring in disapproval at Jeong-hyang who pretended not to see. Why did she have to do it so publicly?
"It can't be nothing else why would she do that? Have you ever tried that?" Jong-gwan turned to Ban-gung who shook his head "Where did you learn that?"
"Years ago, from someone at the coast," Yunbok said finally, knowing the men would give him no rest till they had their answers.
"The coast! Must be some strange foreign custom brought over," Jong-gwan mused. "Is it nice?" His head was slapped from behind. "Ow!"
"Stupid question! Why will she do it if it isn't so?"
"It's a pertinent question! I never see anyone doing that."
"Neither have I."
"I'm curious, what's wrong in asking?"
"You're prying."
"If she does it in the open, how is it prying?"
"Were you never taught manners?"
"What does manners have to do with curiosity."
"Plenty, you .. you lumphead!"
"Lumphead?!"
"All right, fine. You want to know if it's nice ... let me try it on you."
"No, not you!"
Jong-gwan jumped up as Ban-gung tried to grab him and dodged as fast as he could, making faces. The children laughed to see their antics while the others watched in amusement as the two men exchanged insults as they capered about.
"That's just how they are," Cheol-yu said, moving nearer to Yunbok. "Taking the opportunity to clown about when they know their assignments are near the end." He grinned as Ban-gung nearly caught hold of Jong-gwan. The other man deftly twisted away. "Honestly, is that how it's done in foreign lands?" he said in a low voice, keen to verify what it was.
"Um.. I guess so," Yunbok said uncomfortably, nibbling carefully at a pyonsu mandu, not wishing another repeat performance. He could sense Jeyong-hyang's humor at his caution. Wait till he get her alone, he would give her a piece of his mind.
"I should try to get more coastal jobs. I might learn more interesting... endearments ," Cheol-yu said slyly. They looked up at a shout to see Ban-gung, with arms raised in victory, sitting on Jong-gwan, having finally tripped him. "Ah! This bout goes to Ban-gung. That makes it ... let's see ... 10 - 8 for this week."
"You keep scores?" Yunbok said curiously.
"The winner of the week gets extra pay," grinned Cheol-yu. "It keeps us on our toes. Ban-gung always tries the hardest since he has a wife."
"Oh ... so it's not out of duty to his job, it's to his wife," laughed Yunbok.
"Ahh, you know how it is .. women at the helm," Cheol-yu nudged suggestively and dropped his gaze sheepishly when he noticed Jeong-hyang's eyes on him.
Fortunately, he was rescued when the other two men returned, laughing and chattering away, creating a noisy distraction. The day sped by quickly as they immersed themselves in enjoyment of a summer day. They did not return to the residence till dusk had fallen. Dinner was a quick warm up and eaten without fuss before everyone retired to their rooms.
Was that everything? Yunbok contemplated the contents of his packs, going over item by item. Yes, that was it. A voice called at the door. He answered, glancing over his shoulder before turning to closed up all the packs.
"What is it?" he said, feeling her hand on his shoulder. "Is something wrong?" he added when she remained silent.
"I'm sorry for this afternoon."
"It's done." He sighed and thought of the looks directed his way; incredulity from Suk-kwon and Hong-do, jovial slyness from the others.
"You're not going to ask why?"
"You never do things without giving thought to them so..." He tied up all the packs and closed the empty bandaji.
"I was not thinking at all." She looked uncomfortable when he turned around, astonished. "It was an impulse."
"Impulse?" he echoed. "That's a first. What brought it on?" He bent closer, what was that she said? "Jealous?" he reared back, thinking he had misheard.
"You've been spending most of the nights with her," she sighed. "I know both of you need to talk. I can see she is truly responding to our overtures this time, really letting go of her fears, relaxing and daring to speak out more often. The old couple have taken to her, which is good. I know this is ridiculous but I started feeling uneasy when the both of you kept late nights."
"Definitely ridiculous," he said evenly, cocking his head.
"I know!" she said, a little vexed. Did he have to agree so readily? "It's silly but this feeling just kept growing, especially today."
"Do you know why?" He took her hand and spread her fingers. "In all these years, I have never been away from home, from you for long. Every night is with you, alone or keeping company with Young-joon. Never with someone else you do not have rapport with. Well ..," he paused for a moment. "There was Akeno but he didn't count," he ducked her annoyed slap. "But recently, I've been doing so. Your reaction is natural."
"Is that all?" she blinked. Was it so simple? Why did she not see it? "How would you feel if I were to do as you; spend late nights with a man?"
"I'll be sensible. I'll go to bed early and..," he laughed when she punched him in the shoulder and turned away. "Silly goose." He hugged her from behind. "I have faith in you but I will worry nevertheless."
"Are you going to talk to her later?"
"We have discussed as much as we can," he said with finality which she accepted with relief. "We leave tomorrow. Did you prepare the offerings?"
"I have. It's all packed and ready."
"Then this is our last night in Hanseong."
"Where do you think he is now?" she closed her eyes, trying to imagine where P'ado would be.
"Close to Uiryeong," he sighed, the air rolling past her nape, sending shivers down her spine. "Have you decided yet?"
"I thought you are the one who's picking?"
"We did discuss Chinhae and a few other places, didn't we?" he frowned. For all the discussions they held, they could not seem to settle down on one except that it should be coastal. "We'll see when..," a yawn caught him in mid sentence. "Let's sleep on it. I'm tired."
The courtyard was bustling with activity the next morning. The horses were saddled, the packs tied down. In the workroom, the rolled up paintings were carefully wrapped in a layer of protective sheath of paper and cloth, stacked, covered with a last layer of oiled wrapping and tied. The dried brushes went into the large brush pouch. Yunbok checked the room to make sure there was nothing left behind before following Hong-do out to the courtyard.
Jeong-hyang emerged from the anbang, carrying a large chanhap. Iseul followed with another. Song-mi came with yet a third. The sight amazed Yunbok, he did not think she would prepare that much. A cough caught his attention. He found Hong-do seated on his horse, hand outstretched for the brush pouch. The wrapped paintings were already secured to the front of his saddle. Handing over the pouch, he made his way to the women. The chanhap were stacked on top of the other bundles and tied.
"Ready?" he said to Jeong-hyang who nodded and put her foot in his cupped hands so he could boost her to the saddle. A tug on his sleeve brought his attention nearer the ground.
"Don't forget me!" said Pokkot, reaching up for him.
"How can I forget?" he laughed and handed her to Jeong-hyang who drapped the jangot over herself and took up the reins. Smiling, he stepped back as he took in this scene. A light touch on his arm brought his attention to Song-mi who handed him a small white jade pendant.
"Will you keep this, oppa? My gift to you," she said as he examined it. There was something familiar about it.
"I remember.," he frowned. A long forgotten conversation came to mind. "Isn't this the gift your aboji intended for you? How can you give it up?"
"He didn't manage to give it to me," she touched it lightly as it lay in his hand. "It was taken from him, before burial. I kept it, as a reminder but it brings me pain. It will be fitting, that you bring it away, that I will forget this one more sorrow. He thought very highly of you, he would not mind your having it."
"Then, I will keep it. Here." He pulled out a rolled up painting from his sleeve. It was two paintings she saw. Tears came to her eyes when she unfurled them. One was of her and her parents which he must have painted from memory. In wonder, she touched the image of herself. Did she look so young then? So bright and innocent. Was that how he saw her? The other was of her and Jinjia.
"Thank you, oppa. Thank you." She hugged him tightly.
"Do not show them to anyone," he whispered into her ear and felt her nod.
"I swear I will keep them safe." She pulled away, wiping her eyes.
"Take care of yourself. I will return one day to visit," he promised, gently touching her cheek before turning away to mount his horse, held steady by Suk-kwon. The others had already gone on to the gates. They moved off as he joined them. He turned back to wave to Song-mi as she stood at the entrance with the old couple, Soon-joo and Jinjia. She stood there until she could see no more. Seeing her sadness, Halmoni Jung patted her arm in comfort and taking her hand, led her back into the house.
The cavalcade made its way down the trail, the cool morning air making it a pleasant ride. Birds flitted overhead among the trees, filling the air with their trills and chirps. They chatted desultorily, taking turns to point out whatever landmarks there were to Pokkot who craned to see more. It was not yet noon when they reached the jeongja (pavilion) by the stream but they elected to take a rest and a bite to eat. After checking over the precious cargo, Hong-do joined Yunbok as he stood a little way down the stream.
"I don't suppose we are continuing our letters?" he said as he picked up a few pebbles and began to flick them across the water.
"I don't see why not. Do you want to?" Yunbok wondered why he would desire otherwise. "What's troubling you?"
"Nothing. I thought it would be easy to part but somehow or other..," Hong-do sighed and thumped Yunbok's shoulder. "There's no one quite like you in the company I keep. I will miss you."
"Perhaps we might be able to meet up again. Without a royal order," said Yunbok, chuckling when Hong-do's face lit up before he peered suspiciously at him. "I think their diversion plans really ran as well as they claimed," he nodded towards the protectors. "Those people probably aren't sure which is true and false information."
"We can arrange to meet then," Hong-do was pleased. "You will let me know when you are settled?" he said anxiously.
"Immediately. Don't forget your promise to check on Song-mi when you can." Yunbok brushed aside the leaf that was stuck to the yangtae (wide brim of the gat), blown by the wind.
"I won't. I will not be the only one," he gestured with his head towards the pavilion. "Jong-gwan seems very sympathetic towards her."
"Is he?" Yunbok smiled. "He's a good man. If he's really keen to pursue the relationship, remind him he has to be patient with her."
"After what he has seen and heard? I'm surprised he hasn't lost all interest." Hong-do coughed uncomfortably, as he tried to think of a way to put forth the question he had in mind. Yunbok looked at him puzzled. "There's one more thing...do you really...," he quickly blurted it out before he lost his nerve. "What was that little thing Jeong-hyang did yesterday? What is it called?"
"I don't know..," said Yunbok, taken aback.
"How do you...," began Hong-do, his curiosity adversely piqued. It was something that he and Suk-kwon had been arguing about since yesterday. It left both of them throughly embarrassed and red-faced at the end of it when it meandered on to subjects neither one wanted to touch on.
"It was shown to me by someone in Chinhae, the mission I undertook. It doesn't matter why," Yunbok said in exasperation, knowing Hong-do would ask more questions.
"How..er..," stammered Hong-do. "Care to demonstrate?"
"Really." Yunbok waved indignantly at him and walked away, turning to add, "You can figure it out with your wife."
His wife might just fetched him a hard slap. Hong-do rubbed his face fancying that he could feel it already. Sheepishly, he walked back to the jeongja, certain that the others knew what he was asking Yunbok about but nobody, bar the one he was querying earlier, seemed to notice his discomfiture. The red in Hong-do's face dissipated eventually as he lost himself in the klatsch while Yunbok ran his eyes over the stream and the pavilion, thinking of the painting he had in mind to put on paper.
Before long, they were on their way again. All too soon, they came to the crossroads and bide one another farewell. Yunbok and the others spent a little time watching Hong-do, Cheol-yu and the rest ride down south to the city before they turned east, skirting the city walls and bypassing the villages. Farming season was in full stride. Music carried across to them as men and women toiled in the fields.
They stopped at a tavern for lunch and were delighted to sample yolgujatang, dishing it up directly from the steaming pot on the table. Taking their time with their drinks, Yunbok and Suk-kwon made conversation of little note for they were more interested in listening to the local gossip and news the other customers were discussing. Other than various discussions of prices of commodities, certain officials and merchants, crimes and the like, the foremost debate was on the death of a Chinese priest who had died as a result of Western Learning. How would that affect foreign relations? Much was made of political squabbling that might arise. Deeming that time was getting on, they continued their journey, heading into the eastern hillsides.
Yunbok glanced around the trail they were heading up, trying to spot landmarks. It had been years since his last visit, which was but once. He was not sure if there were any changes. Hoping for the best, he continued to lead the small party upwards. It was near the peak, he remembered. Along the trail, among the trees, grave mounds could be seen. The others said nothing when he stopped for the umpteenth time, patiently waiting for him to get his bearings. The crooked tree, his eyes alighted on the gnarled trunk of the oak, and dismounted. The oak had been the symbol of his heartaches. He remembered it well.
"Is it here?" said Suk-kwon as he led his horse over.
"Wait here," Yunbok said and strolled over to the oak. Yes, it was the same tree. Then the grave should be, he looked around and slowly walked over to the small clearing. The mound was neat, there was hardly any leaves or twigs on it. Did someone come to clear? Slowly, he reached out to touch the tombstone and the carved words; Shin Young-bok.
Hyeong, I have come back. After all this time, I am back. He blinked as his vision hazed. Hyeong .. hyeong
Seeing that he had stopped before the mound, the others concluded they had arrived. After securing the horses to the oak, Suk-kwon removed the chanhap and handed them to Jeong-hyang and Iseul. As they prepared to join Yunbok, they stopped in surprise when someone walked into the clearing.
"Young .. master?" A voice quivered in disbelief. Puzzled, Yunbok turned to see an old man, broom in hand, standing a few paces away. Shock on his face. "Young master ..Yunbok? Is...is it really you?"
Young master. It had been a long time since he was addressed as such. Who was this old man? The broom dropped to the ground as the old man reached out to grasp him by the arms.
"Don't you remember me? I'm Hasuo .. Hasuo," he said, peering at Yunbok. "You don't remember, do you?" he said at the blank expression on Yunbok's face. "Old master retire me when you were fourteen years old. I used to work around the garden?"
Yunbok finally remembered and smiled. "Haraboji Jee, didn't you used to chase us out of the garden for trampling the flowers? Are you the one taking care of the grave?"
"Taking care of, yes, yes. I come here everyday, to take care of young master." Hasuo turned to look at the grave. "I live near here so it is easy for me to come here." He stopped as the rest of the group approached. "Who are they?"
"Friends. I was passing by and decided to visit. It has been years since I was here last." Yunbok turned to introduce the others to Hasuo who peered at Jeong-hyang.
"Your wife is she? A beauty!" he said approvingly and bent to examine Pokkot closely.
"Oh, she looks like you," he said and then frowned. "Around the eyes. Why did you take so long to come back?" he added as he watched Jeong-hyang and Iseul put out the offerings before the grave.
"You should have returned earlier to relieve old master of his burdens.., " he picked up the broom from the ground. "Tried so hard, he did in...," he trailed off when Yunbok moved away. He watched as Yunbok stood before the mound.
Ah, how he must have missed his brother. Fit to be tied, the two of them. Always getting into mischief. Young scamps they were. Never seemed to change when they came of age. Even as young men, endless trouble there was. Privately, he wished his master had not been so lax in his discipline. See what happened to the two in the end? One died and the other disowned. Such a tragedy.
Whatever it was with Han-pyeong, Yunbok had no interest in matters that no longer concerned him. Did Hasuo not know his old master had disowned and sold him? Waves of anger rose in him. No, before Young-bok's resting place, he would not bother with such angry thoughts. Emptying his mind of emotion, he stood with bowed head before the grave.
Forgive me for staying away for so long. You know why, don't you? You will not take this to heart, I know you won't. You, who always wanted the best for me. Who have always given your all to protect me. Hyeong, how I wish you are here. To see what I have made of myself this day. Will you be pleased? Will you be happy for me?
His inner rumblings came to a halt, he knew not what to say further. Sighing, he knelt, bowed and made his offering.
"Young master, are you staying?" Hasuo said hopefully.
"I'm not. I am here to pay my respects to hyeong."
"Will you not forgive old master? I know he was wrong to do what he did but he is no longer angry.," Hasuo heaved a sigh. "The death of your brother hit him very hard, that's why he threw you out. He is never the same after that. The death of old mistress seems to take more out of him. I've never seen him so lost, so lonely..."
"Haraboji Jee, I've no wish to hear anymore. I come here not to talk about him."
The old man was startled. Such disrespect and acrimony when he talked about old master, who was his foster father afterall, was unbecoming! He pointed an accusing finger at Yunbok.
"He is your aboji nevertheless. He took you in, fed you, clothed you, taught you. Yes, in his anger and sorrow, he sold you away but he regretted it very much. I know he does. He speaks of it sometimes, how he wishes he can undo his actions..."
"Enough. I have no wish to listen further," Yunbok said tiredly and got up. "You don't know where matters stand. The truth of it."
"Yes, perhaps I don't. Old master has his secrets, who doesn't? But that does not change the fact that he is your aboji! Where is your filial piety?!" Hasuo's voice grew vehement when he saw Yunbok's aloofness to heed his words. "Have you forgotten what you were taught?! To love and revere one's parents. The son may not disagree with the father, even if blood is called for. The moment you enter his household, you are of his blood. If he calls for it, you have to give it!"
Eyes huge, Pokkot listened in bewilderment and confusion as she looked to the old man and Yunbok. It was distressing to witness a quarrel. She clung to Jeong-hyang who struggled to restrain herself from venting her outrage at the old man's words. He was only speaking to address what he deemed a fostered son's unfilial piety, unknowing of the truth but it hurt to hear the accusations.
"Enough! That is enough!" said Suk-kwon, reaching to hold Yunbok's arms when he saw fury in his eyes. "Haraboji, though you are a family retainer and have the right to chastise and speak your mind, there are family matters involve which you do not know."
"No matter what it is, he cannot deny he was nurtured in the Shin household. Where would he be if old master had not rescued him? Why, he would be begging in the streets today for a bite to eat!" a cough interrupted Hasuo. He ambled over to the grave. "His own flesh and blood died young," he lamented. "Such calamity! No one of this branch to carry on the name, it shall wither and be forgotten. If you could have seen his sorrows ... I have never seen it take such a toll on him..."
"Yunbokya..." The soughing sigh raised the hairs on Yunbok's neck. He looked wildly about him. That was not hyeong, was it? His eyes alighted on a newcomer and he stood still. Hasuo saw him too and fell silent. The rest were as statues.
Was that Han-pyeong? The thin frame looked even frailer, his colouring so shallow he was like a ghost. Suk-kwon's hands fell away from Yunbok. He stepped back.
"Yunbok ... Yunbok," Han-pyeong muttered as he approached.
Unobtrusively, the rest slipped away, Suk-kwon encouraging Hasuo to go along. He did not want the old servant to stand around listening to long kept secrets the two would surely bring out in the open.
"Yunbok," Han-pyeong said again, eyes roving over him. "I thought you would visit.. Hasuo was.. supposed to come tell me," he clasped Yun-bok's shoulders. "You ..," he stopped.
"Are you drunk?" Yunbok said coldly, smelling wine on the man's breath. His initial shock and pity disappeared. "Why do you want to see me?"
"To...to..." Han-pyeong wavered and fell to the ground. Disgusted with the man's drunkenness, Yunbok took a step back.
"To what? Show me how drunk you are? I've seen enough of that! Go home. You bring disgrace upon yourself and unrest to this place." Yunbok turned to go and was halted when Han-pyeong grabbed his lower leg. "What're you doing?"
"Forgive me... forgive ...me." Shock held Yunbok still. "Forgive ... forgive..," cried Han-pyeong.
"Get up." Yunbok bent to pull the man up, taken aback when he was able to move him over to sit on a little rise by the grave. How light he was. Han-pyeong held fast to the lapels of Yunbok's durumagi, preventing him from withdrawing. "Didn't you make it very clear I'm no kin of yours?" he said, electing to stay for a moment. "What is there to forgive?"
"I was wrong .. wrong to do .. what I did .. forgive me."
"It's too late!" Teeth clenched, Yunbok prised Han-pyeong's hands open and turned away. "You chose to turn me against what I am. You chose to twist me into your ambitions. You chose to throw me away when hyeong died when it cut your heart to lose your only heir. I was to blame for his death, wasn't it? Wasn't it?!" he shouted, turning around. "Was I the only miscreant? I was not. You are also guilty. I am not your only victim. Hyeong was too. You turned him into a tool! He was not your son, he was a means to build your fortunes! We are both the sacrificial victims to your greed."
"I know.. I know..," Han-pyeong huddled miserably. "I know... it's all I have been thinking over the years. It could have been so different if ... I had simply taken you in as a daughter..."
"A waste of time!" Yunbok fought to control his raging emotions. "Thinking over what should have been. Face whatever you have done and live out the rest of your life as you see fit." He moved over to the tombstone. "I have other matters to look to."
"He loved you ...," Han-pyeong said brokenly. "I .. refused to see it when he persistently rejected betrothals I want to make for him. Always, he reminded me of what I intended for you, what I wanted him to do ... "
Hyeong ... you were .. Yunbok touched the tombstone sadly as he recalled Jeong-hyang's speculations years ago. She was right. I never knew. You are always hyeong to me.
"I should have.. brought you in as a bride for him...," a choking sound escaped Han-pyeong when Yunbok lunged and twisted the collar of his jacket.
"I said enough! Is that all you ever do? Swim in the mire of wishes that cannot be attained? Foolishness!"
"I ... have nothing left..," whispered Han-pyeong, wishing Yunbok would tighten the noose further even as a small part of him was amazed at his strength. "Wishing for a different fate is all that remains."
Pity welled in Yunbok. Was that how Han-pyeong had spent the years since he left?
"Then you condemn yourself to perpetual wretchedness." Yunbok let go of him. "You know this, you can not bear it. Seeking my forgiveness does not change anything if you cannot forgive yourself."
He saw the amazement in Han-pyeong's eyes at the conciliatory note in his voice. Hyeong, for your sake. His shoulders sagged. There was no point in keeping the anger. What would it bring him in the long run? It was a waste of time. Despite what Han-pyeong had done, he had to acknowledge that without the shelter of his household, he would have ended up begging in the streets as Hasuo said. Or taken in by someone and sold. Useless speculations, he snorted to himself. What was it he wanted in coming here? He stared at the grave mound. Hyeong.
"You..," began Han-pyeong uncertainly.
"It does not befit the master of the Shin household to be uncomfortable." Yunbok pulled the older man to his feet. "I suggest rest and restoratives once you have reached home."
"I have no one left ... Yunbokya, come home," pleaded Han-pyeong.
"I..." Yunbok turned away. That was a foolish request. "If the house is too big, you could invite other relatives to stay. It is a waste to let all that space stand empty. Hanseong thrive, who would not want to live in the capital where there are opportunities to make one's fortunes?"
"Yunbokya .." This was his last chance for mitigation, Han-pyeong did not think he would see Yunbok again. He reached out pleadingly. His arm was caught before it reached its target.
"It is not easy to forgive," Yunbok said evenly. "The hardest being yourself. I want to put everything behind me, to look to the future instead of dwelling in the past. You should do the same," he said, looking searchingly at Han-pyeong, saddened at how old he looked. "I am happy where I am now. Friends and a family. I have someone to spend the rest of my life with, that is all the fulfillment I ask for. I want to thank you, for having fed and clothe me, for giving me a gift as precious as hyeong, for your teachings. Without those, I cannot be what I am today."
Words of thanks. Every candid word cut into Han-pyeong, more effectively than anger. He would prefer the rancor, it was easier to bear. How different he was. The Yunbok he knew those years ago had a stubborn temper once roused into taking a stance, almost impossible to shake. Was this really Yunbok?
"If you seek a purpose, then look for master Danwon. Tell him ... that you would aid him in a matter of nurturing the wild. He will know what it means." Yunbok released Han-pyeong's arm. "Do this and you may find yourself again. Aboji."
Aboji ... did he call him aboji? A streak of pain hit him and he could not hold back the tears. It was the first time Yunbok had ever seen Han-pyeong cried as if his heart would break. It was unnerving for throughout his growing years, Han-pyeong was ever the authoritative figurehead. When Han-pyeong wavered unsteadily, he helped him to sit down. It was some time before the tears stopped. Yunbok turned away to give him the privacy as he fought to compose himself.
"Where ... are you going after this?"
"To the coast to visit an old friend." Yunbok turned to the tombstone.
"Will you be coming back?"
"I probably will since I made a promise to someone. But it will take a few years before I come by again."
He would most likely be dead by then, he had never felt his years so much as he did. Once he was dead, his line was truly ended. The house would stand empty until some distant relatives claimed it. What a failure he was to the ancestors, Han-pyeong stumbled over to the tombstone.
"I am a disgrace," he muttered, staring at the etched name. To that statement, Yunbok made no reply for he felt there was nothing pertinent to add. Whether Han-pyeong would get himself on his feet again was up to the man himself.
"I have to leave," he said, to distract the older man. "There are places to go. I cannot tarry too long."
"So ..soon?" Han-pyeong said with a heavy heart. "It has been years since you left, can't you..," he trailed off when Yunbok shook his head. "You .. astonish me, you know. I never imagine you will turn out like this..," he found he could not voice the concerns he felt later after learning of the separation from Hong-do. That Yunbok had left by himself for the unknown. "It is something to rejoice."
"It is something that astonish me too but that is how it is. One's action determines one's fate."
"It is so .. it is so."
"Go home, aboji. Rest for a few days and stop the drinking. You will feel better when your mind is clear. I will send Hasuo to help you."
Yunbok did not see the halting gesture from Han-pyeong. He looked around and made off for the trail just behind the clearing. That was where the others had gone, he was sure. He found them exploring around the grave mounds, Hasuo made off as fast as he could when he learned Han-pyeong needed him.
The red eyes of his former employer grieved him. Did it not go well? Han-pyeong shook his head to all his questions and held on to his arm when Yunbok came back with the others. The chanhaps were collected and stowed on the horses. The anxieties in Hasuo eased a little when Jeong-hyang and Pokkot came over to bide Han-pyeong farewell. Did they reconcile after all? He was pleased when Yunbok came up and addressed Han-pyeong properly. Yes, that was more like it. But why were they leaving? They should be staying.
"No, he has to leave," Han-pyeong said when he noticed Hasuo opening his mouth to halt the small group.
"But why?"
"Politics.. politics. Say nothing of his visit, Hasuo, or you will have my death too." Han-pyeong stumbled along the trail, eyes fixed on the small figures moving down the hill. "It is enough he has forgiven me."
Korean Words
pyonsu mandu - sliced cucumber with beef, mushrooms, green onions, soy sauce, sesame oil wrapped in wheat flour, dip in sauce of vinegar, soy sauce and ground pinenuts before eaten
yangtae - wide brim of the gat