Soseo 1795
All was still. Suk-kwon sat by the window, brow and eyes hidden by a hand. Though the day was bright, the air light and fluttering, sprinkled with the calls and songs of denizens of the air, he was oblivious. Lines of weariness marked his face as he looked at the letter in his lap. A voice called at the door, then again when there was no response. It opened a fraction, then wider as someone slipped into the room and closed it. Iseul approached on quiet feet and sat down, waiting for him to say something for she knew he was aware of her.
It had been two weeks since Yunbok was lost to the sea. Two weeks Suk-kwon and the men had spent searching along the shores and the nearby islands. To no avail. There was no sign of him. Neither living nor dead. If he were dead and there was no body, chances were it was swept out further to sea. Lost forever. If he was alive, surely he would have returned by now.
"I manage to persuade her eat to something. No news is good news I said. He will be most upset if she makes herself ill when he comes back, so ..," she trailed off. It was the almost the same statement she made every day. For wont of anything effectual. Clasping her hands in her lap, she tried another. "Pokkot is easier to cajole. It is a good thing she can put her attention on the drawings but I do not know what she will say when he fails to appear ..," she broke off again and sighed when he said nothing. "Are you going to answer the letter? It has been several days already, master Han will be wondering at the delay."
"How am I suppose to answer?" he said wearily. It was too late. Even though the letter bore good news that would bring joy to Yunbok and Jeong-hyang, it was totally irrelevant now.
"The boy can't be kept in the dark forever and she has to return in any case to ..."
"To what? What makes you think she will want to go back to Uiryeong?"
"I am hoping that the children will anchor her." Even as she said it, she knew it was unlikely.
"I don't think so," he said flatly. She was right. The boy should know what had happened. It would cut his heart and shatter it as his and Jeong-hyang's were. How long before she gave up? He closed his eyes. Was he giving up already? No, as long as there was no body, no proof, he could not give up. Listlessly, he got up and sat down at the desk, his movements schlep and hesitant as he prepared the ink. Finally, he picked up the brush and froze. What was he to say?
"Keep it simple," she said softly, knowing he was at a lost.
Was the announcement of the lost of a loved one simple? He stilled the angry retort that rose to his throat, she was only trying to ease his pain. The blank paper stared back at him. How should he put it? As matter of factly as possible, he realised. A report, make it a report. Taking a deep breath, he began to write. It only came up to a page when he was done. Was that all that was? A single page? Unable to look at it any longer, he folded and put it into an envelope, addressed it. He went out to find a servant, sending him to find someone to get the letter to Young-joon. Iseul followed more slowly.
"How long do we wait?" she followed as he walked out to the garden.
"As long as she wants to wait. You must keep an eye on her, don't let her wander off alone," he said. In the end, he knew it would not matter. Once she was certain his return was an impossibility, everything would end. No one would be able to prevent it.
"If it takes a year?"
"Then we wait a year!" he rounded on her angrily. "That is rude of me." He turned away.
"I do not mean to imply impatience but what will you do in the meantime?" Was he going to hang about the Bae residence?
"I can find a temporary job or whatever master Bae can recommend." He leaned against the pillar of the pavillion, staring unseeingly at the flowers. She waited. "However long it takes, we will wait. A year, two years... as long as there is no evidence..," he trailed off.
A year. Could she wait that long? Iseul opened her mouth and changed her mind. It was not the time to bring up the subject she wanted to speak about. As with Jeong-hyang, she understood how deep his bond was with Yunbok. Like a son, he had often remarked to her. His affections and his pride in Yunbok was so profound that she envied them. No, she would have to wait but not too long.
Paper mill
Beads of sweat dripped off his nose as he worked, tossing weeds and willow branches onto the compost, making sure to lay them out evenly before raking the prepared soil and manure over them. The rays of the sun bore down mercilessly. He paused to blot the sweat on his face with his sleeve before returning to the task. Once he was satisfied that the compost would ferment properly, he turned to the vegetable patch. The crops were growing well. He eyed the vegetables, melons, cucumbers and the like. The harvest this year would be a bounty.
"A beautiful sight, isn't it?" grinned Chang-sun as he weeded along the rows.
"Compared to previous years, ajoshi, it is more than beautiful. It's sumptuous!" P'ado threw out his arms and did a little jig before bending to help with the weeding. "I will have to hold the offerings alone this year," he observed sadly.
"Not alone, we'll help with the food. I don't suppose you can cook a credible dish to offer to the ancestors," laughed Chang-sun.
"I can cook pajeon, of a sort. Not as good as aboji though," he turned to toss the weeds into the nearby basket. "What is taking them so long to answer? Ajoshi Han sent the letter more than two weeks ago, they should be back by now."
"Perhaps they have a matter to settle?" suggested Chang-sun. "Patience, they will be here before you know. Maybe they will just turn up, just to surprise you."
"That will be most welcome!"
He hoped it was as Chang-sun had conjectured. Who knew, they could be coming up the path right then? He paused to listen but there was no sound of hooves or trampling feet. Soon, he was certain and bent back to his task. Overhead the sun marched on. As they stopped to rest for lunch at the porch, there came the sound of hooves. P'ado exchanged a look with Chang-sun and leaped to his feet. Was it them? He ran out of the courtyard, to the workyard and was disappointed to see only a single rider. It was Young-joon. Did he bring an answer to the letter?
"Ajoshi!" P'ado ran to Young-joon. "Did you bring an answer?"
"Let's get to the house, shall we? It's such a hot day," Young-joon tried to smile and failed. "Come." He forced a semblance of a grin, kicking his horse into a trot so he could hide his grief from the boy a while longer. Chang-sun greeted him and held the reins as he dismounted, giving him a puzzled look for he had seen his distress.
"What did they say?" P'ado asked eagerly when he reached Young-joon.
"Come, into the house." Young-joon pulled the surprised boy with him as he opened the door. Chang-sun followed, sensing brewing trouble. "Here sit, sit," he said, gesturing to the floor and turned to pace rather than sit. His eyes alighted on the desk, the brushes. He swung around, blinking rapidly.
"What is it?" Why was he walking about so agitatedly? Dread began to grow in P'ado when Young-joon kept silent. "Ajoshi!"
"There's been an accident. They are in Chinhae at the moment ..," the words rushed out of Young-joon. He took a deep breath before he started to sound incoherent. "They went on a trip to one of the islands. On the way back, they were caught in a storm. While trying to help one of the sailors and master Park, brother Seo was ...washed overboard."
"What?" whispered a pale disbelieving P'ado.
"Brother Seo went overboard?!" Chang-sun was shocked. "... when..."
"That was more than two weeks ago, master Park made a search of the nearby islands and the shore but no trace of him was found."
"That can't be true," said P'ado, shaking his head to clear the swimming visions of Young-joon.
"Where is mistress Im and Pokkot?" put in Chang-sun worriedly.
"They're currently staying at the Bae residence. They're safe and were not injured. P'ado..," Young-joon opened helpless hands.
"No. It's not true! He's not dead!" P'ado shook his head vehemently. "No trace was found. There's no body. He's not dead!"
"P'ado, it's been more than two weeks. If he were alive, he would have make it back to..," began Young-joon. "P'ado!" The door crashed open as the boy ran out. The men gave chase. Chang-sun grabbed hold of Young-joon when the boy stopped at the creek and began to drag at the stones.
"Leave him.. let him grief," he drew Young-joon away. "I can't believe it, I just can't believe it!" he shook his head as tears came to his eyes. "How can it happen?!" Ae-young would be as grieved and so would his brothers.
"I don't know when they will be back. Master Park said ... mistress Im is unlikely to return ..," his voice caught in his throat. "They will wait ..."
"How long? What about him?"
"It depends on mistress Im ... keep a close watch over him. He will not come with me at the moment," Young-joon paused at the sounds of mourning that reverberated around.
"I will keep a close eye on him," promised Chang-sun, wiping his eyes.
"I'll come by tomorrow, when he's calmer," said Young-joon, turning towards the house.
The sight of it tore at him. How often had he come here over the years to visit? Always knowing his friend would be there. The conversations they had at the porch, working at the paper mill, the trips they made to the hills, wandering about the town, enjoying the festivities when they came, quiet evenings of baduk and janggi, the books, the paintings, gatherings at his house ...
He untied his horse and mounted, nodding a silent farewell to Chang-sun and made his way down the trail. How devastated his father had been when he learned what had happened. Now he was shut up in his study room and forbade any trivial disturbance. His father would be looking through Hyewon's paintings, he knew, and mourning the passing of such a talented painter. More importantly, at the lost of a friend. As for himself, he had lost a brother.
Daeseo 1795
The ground shimmered in the bright glare, sending waves of heat into the cool air that blew in from the sea. By the time it arrived at the house, it brought little relief to the occupants. With most of the doors lifted to the rafters, they could only hope some of the humidity would be lost. To the little girl seated at the main hall, heat was of little concern to her as she focused her full attention on the drawing before her.
Drawing in the hopes that Yunbok would come back soon. Jeong-hyang wished Iseul had not used such a ploy to pacify Pokkot but she could not blame her for it occupied the girl. If she was not, nightmares would doubtless haunt her. Just as it had plagued her every night, the moment when that wave dashed Yunbok from sight, replaying itself over and over again. A flurry of movements broke her preoccupation as a soban was brought in.
"Sojo, have some kaejangguk," Iseul indicated the bowl.
"I'm not hungry." She looked down at the bowl on the soban with disinterest.
"Please."
Reluctantly, she picked up the spoon and slowly ate a few mouthfuls. Pokkot tucked into hers with aplomb, a sight which pleased her.
"When are you going to tell him?" she said, without looking up. Iseul froze, the spoon clinked against the side of the bowl. She was not surprised that her friend had discerned her condition. "What are you waiting for?"
"It will only add to his burdens." Iseul returned to the soup.
"You don't want to have to make him choose." Jeong-hyang put down the spoon and reached over to grasp Iseul's hand. "There is nothing to pick. He will do what's right."
"I am not sure about that. He holds brother Seo close to his heart, like a son. His will, his passions is collected for his return, nothing else matters ..."
"Iseul, it is true Painter is dear to him but how can you adjudge him and say you are less in his eyes? By what scale are you measuring his feelings?" she pressed her hand. "Tell him. It will bring joy to him, to yourself."
"I'll.. think about it. I can't keep it from him indefinitely anyway," she smiled and gestured to Jeong-hyang's bowl. "Now that you know how it is with me, you must finish the soup or you will distress me greatly."
"You blackguard."
Soft chuckles. Silence fell as they each withdrew into their own thoughts. The soup was duely consumed and the bowls collected. Jeong-hyang felt a little better and sat watching Pokkot as she resumed her drawing. That almost familiar intensity in her eyes hurt and yet she could not draw her gaze away. Iseul picked up where she had left her embroidery. Eventually Jeong-hyang came over to see her progress. It was comforting to see her friend in better spirits. She did not think it would last but she could hope.
The hot afternoon meandered on. Pokkot finished her drawing and showed it to the women. In the midst of their appreciation of her work, a faint disturbance could be heard. It appeared to be coming from the main gates. What was going on? Jeong-hyang got to her feet as hope surged. A maid came by with news. Someone had arrived to inform master Park that a corpse had been found by some fishermen. He had gone to view it. A corpse! Jeong-hyang almost lost hold of her senses at that thought. Iseul drew her down, grasping her hands in comfort. They waited with Pokkot who huddled in Jeong-hyang's lap. The idea of a corpse, especially if it were Yunbok's, was terrifying to the girl.
The wait seemed to take forever. The heat was so stifling that when the maids brought watermelons, even Jeong-hyang did not refuse it. The shadows slowly grew longer. Surely it was taking too long? Finally, they heard the faint sound of the gates and waited, eyes fixed on the open gates of the wall between sarang and anbang. A tall figure appeared and approached. Was he walking with a heavy gait? Jeong-hyang felt she would faint from the unbearable tension.
"It's not him," were the first words out of Suk-kwon's mouth when he reached them.
Wearily, he sat down, rubbing his eyes as the women heaved a sigh. Pokkot sat up, glad to know her fears did not come true. He thought over once more of what he had seen. The state of the corpse was appalling, having apparently been nibbled and gnawed at. There was no face, no limbs and decomposing so badly that it was hard to approach at all. It was a wonder the fishermen had the stomach to haul it in but the thought of the reward offered by master Bae was probably an incentive. He was more interested, however, to know where they had come across it and was dismayed to learn it was near the island of the hideout. Would Yunbok have been swept out that far? Or was the corpse one of the sailors from one of the transport vessels that were further out?
"That is a relief," said Iseul, patting Jeong-hyang's hands.
"Yes. Since you are here, master Park, Iseul has something important to tell you," Jeong-hyang said, ignoring her friend's gaze of reproach. Better to get it out now than to drag on forever. "Come Pokkot, it's time to rest," she said and helped to gather up the drawing tools before withdrawing.
"What is it?" Suk-kwon wondered what was it that was so important.
"I ... you may have to put up a geumjul sometime next year," said Isuel, watching his face carefully.
For a moment, it remained blank as he tried to figure out what she meant. Then it dawned on him. He blinked in amazement. A smile broke out. He was going to have a child, at his age?
"When ...when did you realise..," he reached out for her.
"Sometime in Soman... what shall we do?" she clasped him tightly, relieved at his response. "I know you want to wait."
"I'm sorry." What was he to do? "I cannot let you carry this burden alone as it is. If you do not mind ... we can have our marriage here rather than Uiryeong as we have planned."
"I don't mind but are you sure you want to do it now? I know you want to mourn..."
"No, it is not mourning," he tempered his denial. "Waiting. We are waiting. It's just too bad .. he will miss a fine feast, that's all," he choked as tears fell from his eyes. "That's all ..."
"It's too hot to take a nap, omoni," complained Pokkot as she lay on the floor.
"It's too hot to move around too." Jeong-hyang fanned her with the buchae, generating extra fresh air even though a breeze was wafting in through the open windows. "It will cool off soon, the afternoon is almost done."
"Will aboji be coming back soon? I drew so many drawings that surely he will have to spend a day looking through them," Pokkot said tentatively, looking at Jeong-hyang nervously as if she expected her to cry or deny that Yunbok would not be returning.
"I don't think he will mind spending a day looking through them," Jeong-hyang kept her voice light. "Just as long as you are diligent."
"Once he comes back, are we going home? I want to go home, oppa is waiting for us," Pokkot said eagerly, trying to draw out an assurance that all would be well.
"Yes, we will go home once he comes back. Now try to sleep," she hummed a song, unwilling to speak any longer for she feared she would cry.
On and on she sang, patiently fanning all the while until the girl was finally asleep. She put down the buchae. How long could she bear this? Wiping a tear away, she left the room and wandered over to the sarang. The room was empty, she knew. Yet when she opened the door, there was always the hope that it was all a dream. That he would be there, at the desk. But of course he was not. She went over to the bandaji and opened it, touching the folded clothes, trying to capture the warmth. No matter how she tried. they were just clothes. Where was the person?
Painter, where are you? I know you are not lost, my heart is not empty yet.
She looked at the paegeom hanging on the wall, the dongsimgyeol maedeup beckoning.
Let your soul speak to me, where are you? Don't leave me alone, Painter. Come back.
She touched the maedeup, listening. Her hand fell away. Filled with pain, she went to the daecheong, looking about her uncertainly before heading back to her room. Pokkot was sleeping peacefully, she saw as she went to the windows. The shadows outside was growing longer. The bright glare of the sun was blocked at the moment by a swathe of clouds.
Painter, it's summer. We will miss casting our wishes if you do not come back soon. Painter... Painter... don't leave me behind...
Hyangya ...
Painter? She looked around the room wildly. That was him, she could swear she heard him.
Hyangya...
Where are you? Painter?
She went out of the room, looking down the corridor to the daecheong. No, not there. Outside, it was outside, she was sure. The daecheong was empty. Putting on her shoes, she walked across the courtyard, through the gates of the wall separating the sarang and anbang and stopped at the garden. Was he there? No, it was outside, outside the residence. She made her way to the main gates and slipped through. Where? Where? The beach, yes, it was the beach.
Down the winding path she walked, mind fixated on getting to the beach that she did not notice the curious looks directed her way for she walked without paying any heed to whatever was in her way. A peddlar was nearly mowed down. He got out of her way in time. Was she crazy? His annoyed words fell on death ears. Past the marketplace she went and down to the dock where she paused. No, it was the beach. She turned and made her way down to the shore.
Did they not walk along the shores years ago? Was he here? The cool sea breeze whipped at her clothing as she gazed down the long stretch of sand. Her heart said he was there but there was nothing. No, she could not be wrong. Tears welled into her eyes. She wiped them away. Sunsets, he loved sunsets. He said the sunset was magnificent then. Where was he?
Back at the Bae residence, a servant was aghast to discover the unlocked main gates. Who had gone out? A thought flashed to his mind. He ran to the anbang, frantically calling to a maid walking past to go with him. After a few calls outside Jeong-hyang's room, she opened it to find the drowsy Pokkot but no sign of mistress Im. They stared at each other and hurriedly split up in search. Feeling time was wasting when he could not find Jeong-hyang, the servant hurried to the main study room of the sarang.
"Can't find her?" master Bae said in horror after hearing the servant's report.
"She has gone out!" Suk-kwon leaped to his feet and rushed out of the room with Iseul close behind. "No, you stay here!" he turned to catch hold of her. "You're not well, you can't risk it."
"But..," she protested.
"Please, just stay here. I'll go get her. Master Bae, don't let her leave," Suk-kwon said as the older man emerged.
He hurried to the porch. They should have gotten a maid to stay with Jeong-hyang, he cursed at their oversight as he jammed his feet into his shoes. The thought of the forthcoming baby and the marriage had distracted them. Unforgivable. He ran out of the gates and down the winding path. Where would she go? The shores, he was sure. Which side? At the marketplace, he paused to ask a few stallkeepers if they had seen Jeong-hyang, describing as best as he could. They pointed to the dock. He tried to get there as fast as he could. There was no sign of her when he reached it. Once more, he had to ask around and was directed to the western shores.
The light of the day dimmed further as more clouds raced across the sky. The wind became colder but she did not feel it as she walked along the sand. Empty. It was empty. Why did he call her here? She stopped and looked out to the sea. Seagulls cried overhead and ships bobbed on the water. A fishing boat sailed past in the distance but she was oblivious. It was all an illusion. Yes, that was what it was. There was no call, only her imagination. A flash of anger. No, she was not mistaken. She did hear him calling. Perhaps he was calling to her to join him?
At the beach, there was no sign of Jeong-hyang. Suk-kwon began to run. She was there, he was sure. Perhaps she had walked further down the shoreline. Don't do anything silly, Hyangya. Please, please, he prayed as his eyes strained ahead, hoping to see a figure. How far had she walked? He paused to get his breath back. His breath caught when he spied a tiny figure ahead. Walking into the sea. Was that...? No, no. He took off running.
"No!" he shouted, knowing she could not hear him. "No, no!"