Chapter 1 #2
“Only four copies in seven days? If you wish to make a respectable living from transcribing, you must work as quickly as my own scribes. They can complete four copies of a novel in a single day.”
Haewon sighed. “Madam, your scribes needn’t share a room with two sisters. Especially one like Yeonhee.”
Wol let out a soft grunt as she pushed aside a reed veil, holding it as Haewon passed through.
They entered a tiny transcription room where scribes worked tirelessly to mimic the printing press itself, the use of which was forbidden to any but the government.
Once they were in the small, private adjoining room, Wol asked, “Do you still hide your work from your mother?”
“She knows,” Haewon replied. “But every time I sit down to work, she calls me to help in the kitchen or insists I escort my sisters somewhere.”
After setting the travel sack down on a table, she unwrapped five books, four of which were her painstaking transcriptions of Black Lotus’s latest romantic adventure novel. She then stepped back to wait as Wol examined her work.
“You will keep transcribing, then?” Her friend adjusted her spectacles and flipped to the next page. “It’s not easy work, as you have experienced. It will ruin your eyes and your posture in due time.”
“And so will making embroideries and weaving mats to sell in the marketplace,” Haewon countered, wandering over to the wall lined with narrow shelves.
She brushed her fingers lightly over the spines of the books all requiring mending.
“I make more transcribing books. I get to read as I do. You let Jade and Yeonhee borrow whichever books they like, and the only payment is that I transcribe a copy.” Then with a little smile, she added, “It’s not hard work to me.
It feels rather like I’m carving a corner in my life.
A small place where I am mistress over my own fate. ”
Like you, Haewon did not say aloud.
Wol was only a year her senior. She was the illegitimate daughter of a gisaeng who had amassed enough to pay off her debt and have her name removed from the gisaeng registry, regaining her commoner status.
A few years before passing on to the next life, Wol’s mother had married a wealthy merchant, whom Wol now called Father.
The older girl, who claimed the freedom of a married woman without being married herself, had declared more than once to Haewon that she intended to devote herself to her first and only love: books.
“When you introduced me to novels,” Haewon said softly, “I realized how small my world had been. There’s so much more to life than what Mother and other ajummas talk about—marriage, childbearing, cooking…”
Wol shook her head. “Transcription work is also dangerous work.”
“I know. But you once said so yourself, the authorities have long abandoned any real effort to enforce the ban. I want to believe that will not change, despite all the rumors.”
“I told you that last spring. The edict was reinstated since then, and a ban is a ban. To go against His Majesty’s wishes is … unthinkable to most. And yet, you still wish to transcribe?”
“I work under a pseudonym,” Haewon reminded her friend. “What could possibly happen? Some archenemy, intent on my ruin, scours for my handwriting, uses it as evidence to uncover my identity?” She let out a soft, wry laugh. “Who would care to do that? I am but an inconsequential woman.”
Wol snapped the books shut and set them aside. “If you insist, I will not deter you. Your writing is always neat, and the readers prefer your transcription work over that of other scribes.” She set a stringed bundle of tarnished coins on the table next to Haewon. “One nyang for your hard work.”
Haewon bit back a smile as she took it. Such a bounty could purchase a small luxury—a modest hairpin, perhaps, or a bit of fabric for new clothes. Her sisters would be so pleased with such a gift. It would be a welcome change from their relatives’ castoffs.
“But most importantly,” Wol added, “Black Lotus appreciates your transcription of her work. She says you make few errors, if any—” She frowned, then murmured, “That reminds me. I returned this morning from visiting Black Lotus.”
Haewon shot her a glance. “You did? I remain astonished and greatly wounded that you know the identity of the author and yet refuse to tell me.”
“Black Lotus made me vow secrecy, and I keep my word.” Wol rolled her shoulders, massaging her right before continuing.
“She has ignored every letter I’ve sent, so I went straight to her house and waited until she had no choice but to grant me an audience.
It was as I feared. I, too, could not sway her—there will be no more books. ”
Haewon winced. “But … surely, with time, Black Lotus might change her mind.”
“But will the readers wait for her?”
“I would wait. I could wait two, three years. Even a decade.”
Wol laughed. “You would wait a decade?”
“I am a most devoted reader.”
“Well, at least there will be you if Black Lotus ever decides to write the last volume.” Wol riffled through a drawer full of papers, then set a small booklet before her. “Here, to cheer you up. You can make a copy of this book catalogue if you’d like.”
Haewon gasped, delight rippling through her.
These catalogues allowed her to have a comprehensive idea of what new books had been published.
Such knowledge was why fellow readers sought her out for recommendations—and made her feel particularly useful.
Every patron of Five Willows knew that Shin Haewon could share all of the best and recent trends.
“Where is this catalogue from?” Haewon asked, barely able to hide her glee.
“Our broker purchased it from a bookshop on Liulichang.”
“Liulichang,” Haewon whispered, a little wistfully.
Every Joseon reader knew of the famed bookselling district in the empire across the sea, Qing China’s emporium of the most sought-after books.
“Make me a list if you see any books not yet widely known or introduced to Joseon,” Mistress Wol said.
“Even at a glance I can tell you there will be over a hundred volumes to include.”
“Then a hundred we will request. Last time I requested over a thousand. I can’t make this shop survive on the popularity of a few local authors like Black Lotus.
I split her manuscript into as many volumes as possible.
” Then to herself, she muttered, “Perhaps I ought to have waited until she actually wrote an ending…”
Haewon expelled a dramatic sigh. “Everyone is waiting for the tenth and final installment. They have no idea, do they? That they may have to wait a decade for the last volume, if it ever happens at all?”
Wol’s lips thinned into a grim line. “I have readers hounding me daily. Those who’ve read the ninth volume always tell me they’re in sheer torture.
Some even lose appetite for days when I warn them that Black Lotus might never finish this series.
I have an entire drawer reserved for all their letters begging Black Lotus to continue writing.
” Wol reached under her spectacles, rubbing her eyes.
“I pity the readers. She never answers them, so I have stopped sending them. And I pity myself for the barrage of frustrated customers I must endure daily.”
Haewon bit her lower lip, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Everyone knew that Black Lotus was secretive, even going so far as to order that her original manuscripts be destroyed once transcribed. Black Lotus had never responded to a reader.
None, that is, except Haewon.