Chapter 4
Haewon hurried with only one shoe on and could not say when she had lost the other.
Perhaps it had slipped off when she stumbled over a jutting stone in the road, or when she had veered off the path to take a quicker, alternate route, leading her maid and sister down a small hill and across a trickling stream.
But one shoe was gone, and quite frankly, she did not care.
“Your family is doomed,” Maid Boram gasped, holding Jade’s arm as they scurried down another path.
“Do you remember Lord Yi Eun’s family? There was a rumor of impropriety circulating—a mere rumor!
—that his niece-in-law was seen flirting with men other than her husband, and that was enough for the family to do away with her.
The men tied her up and tossed her into the river!
” Boram quickly dabbed Jade’s perspiring forehead with a handkerchief, then her own.
“I told Yeonhee about this so many times. And yet still she decides to do something this reckless!”
As her maid spiraled, and as Jade grew paler from panic and exertion, Haewon tried to focus on her steps. As unbearable as her younger sister sometimes was, Yeonhee was family, and family was Haewon’s entire world, the beating center of her being.
She could not let her family fall apart. She could not.
The House of Bright Flowers rose ahead of them, like a shroud of large, creamy-white magnolias in full bloom.
In any other circumstance, she would have gazed in awe upon the majestic establishment, with its sturdy pine structure and flowing eaves, a beauty of lines that harmonized with the surrounding mountains and river.
But all she felt was sheer terror as she strode around, surveying the area surrounding the walled compound.
That silly, reckless girl.
“What are we to do, agasshi?” Maid Boram cried. “Shall—shall I climb over the wall? S-search for her? Though, I do think I twisted my ankle a little—”
“She’s our sister,” Haewon whispered, her attention landing on a small gate where servants were passing in and out. “She’s our sister, so she is our responsibility. You wait here, somewhere nearby.”
“I—I—” Jade tried to catch her breath, still clinging to Boram’s arm for support. “I will—go with you—too.”
“No, I’ll be quick. You both stay here in case…” Haewon searched her mind, anything to convince Jade not to follow. “In case Yeonhee comes out.”
“Very well,” Maid Boram blurted, tugging Jade toward a cluster of trees. “Be careful, agasshi!”
Haewon kept her veil low over her head. She didn’t even know what to say as she approached the gate.
But as it happened, no words were required.
A few servants eyed her curiously but shuffled back to let her pass, mumbling, “Are you the new girl? Just head into the main house and ask for Madam Seolhwa.”
Haewon passed through what seemed to be the servants’ courtyard, which was connected to the next by a low gate, and the House of Bright Flowers opened before her in all its glory.
It sprawled luxuriously across the courtyard, a vast wooden structure rising from a stone foundation, its latticed doors marching down the wooden terrace, each one a gateway into secrets exchanged between noblemen, whispers of clandestine dealings and conspiracies.
It was an exclusive house a common man could only dream of entering.
Here nobles intermingled with some of the most highly educated gisaeng, women known for their arts, for the ability to entertain, fan dance, and hold intellectual conversations.
A world, a gilded cage, into which her sister had wandered.
A scuffle of hurried footsteps approached. Haewon quickly tucked herself behind a pillar and watched from the shadows as a posse of young women in colorful silk gowns appeared, fluttering their fans, whispering and giggling among themselves.
“I heard Lord Yu might come. The girls have placed a bet.”
“A bet on what?”
“Winning a kiss from him.”
Snickers ensued.
“I have a feeling he’d make an excellent kisser—”
“Hurry, the gentlemen will arrive soon!”
Their fragrance wafted by Haewon in a rush, like an armful of sweet-smelling flowers. Then they were gone and she was left in further panic.
The gentlemen will arrive soon …
The sun had begun its descent. A servant was already hurrying down the veranda, lighting floor lanterns.
A wave of pressure and tense excitement charged the grounds as another crowd of girls hurried by with trays of liquor bottles, a rush of footsteps stormed down a hall, doors opened and slammed shut, and gisaengs warmed up their instruments, the earthy timbre of flutes trilling while someone pounded on the soribuk drum.
In mere moments, the evening’s revelry would begin: dancing, music, and drinking all night.
Officials had likely abandoned their posts by now, moments away from spilling into this space.
Once they arrived, it would be impossible to search discreetly.
Haewon hesitated for the barest moment, then hurried up the stone steps onto the veranda that wrapped around the establishment.
She snuck through a back door and into the hall, which was blessedly empty.
All she could hear was her own racing heartbeat and words that seemed to float on the melody of a distant gayageum being played.
Do not boast of your speed,
O blue-green stream running by the hills
She had never stepped foot in an entertainment house before, but she had read the poems written by famed gisaeng entertainers.
Words always soothed her, and more than anything now, she needed to be calm.
She knew, from observing her mother, that rarely could any good decision be made when one’s emotions were running high.
Once you have reached the wide ocean,
You can return no more.
Why not stay here and rest,
When moonlight stuffs the empty hills?
She tucked the veil tighter around her face and paused before each hanji-screened door, which were thin enough for her to hear any murmurings within.
But there was nobody. She pressed onward, cold perspiration clinging to her back.
Then, at the farthest door, she heard a snort followed by a muffled giggle.
“He has read the Seonggyoyoji, too, and he frequents bookshops as well! Our minds are so alike it is incredible!” came the whisper of a familiar voice, followed by more giggles.
“We are both passionate, curious, and unafraid. He is as fascinated by Western teachings as I am. He says, ‘The more unorthodox it is’”—the girl’s voice lowered in mimicry—“‘the more intrigued I am.’”
Haewon bit her lower lip as she inspected the hall, reining in her anger, her outrage. She gripped the brass handle so tight her knuckles ached, then slid the door open and entered. Yeonhee and a gisaeng entertainer were before a low table, staring at her over a drinking bowl filled with liquor.
With deadly quietude, Haewon said, “Put the wine bottle down. We are leaving at once.”
Haewon then shot the gisaeng a glance, and it took a moment for recognition to dawn—it was Yeonhee’s childhood friend Jongbi, who had been sold to the gibang house.
The news had shaken Gyonam Village for months, and the parents had since then been all but shunned.
“We must not be seen or recognized,” she said, less sharply this time.
A lump of sadness had formed in her chest. “You will not say another word and follow me—”
“We can’t leave yet—I promised we’d wait for Lady Sunghyun,” Yeonhee cried.
“She promised to tell us more about the teachings from the West; it claims all people are equal. Equal! Can you imagine that? Apparently in Catholic gatherings, men and women sit together! They believe that the highest noble to the lowliest servant are all equal in the eyes of the Heavenly Father. Of course, I don’t believe in this Heavenly Father, but imagine such a life!
A life in which we are free to live like men! ”
Haewon heaved out a breath, then shook her head. “Right now is not the time or place to be discussing reform. We need to go.”
“There are gisaengs who have attended these gatherings,” Yeonhee chattered on, “and I need to hear more. Don’t you see how important this is?
It’s for all those girls in our village that we tutor, who live with their eyes downcast, who believe that the sole purpose of their existence is to marry and bear sons—! ”
“And make it their sole purpose to worship this Heavenly Father from the West instead? Foolishness. Come, now. If you don’t, you’ll be ruined. Our whole family will be ruined.”
“Aigoo, Older Sister.” Yeonhee waved her hand, her breath reeking of rice wine. “There is no need to be so dour.”
“Perhaps you should listen to your elder sister,” Jongbi nudged.
Finally Yeonhee staggered up to her feet. Then she swayed, tripped, and before Haewon could reach her, went stumbling to the floor, and there she remained. “Oh…” Yeonhee blinked, looking dazed. “I think I drank a little too much.”
Anger returned with violence, boiling under her ribs, threatening to spill over. Haewon tried to hold it in, but it came steaming out through the cracks in her composure. “What is the matter with you?” she hissed through clenched teeth.
She grabbed her sister by the arm and tried to drag her to her feet—then her stomach leapt at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Firm, heavy footsteps.
And more than one pair.
Swiftly she hoisted the inebriated girl onto her back, securing her arms around her sister’s legs as she stood up.
“Let’s go,” Haewon ordered, casting frantic glances at the door. Whoever was in the hallway could pass them by, but it was a risk she couldn’t take. “Quick.”
They hurried toward the window, which the gisaeng cracked open and climbed through first. Haewon shoved Yeonhee out to her, her sister landing in the grass with an undignified thump.
Then Jongbi cried, “Your sister’s veil!”