Chapter 7
By early afternoon, Haewon came to the conclusion that worrying would not solve the conundrum in which Yeonhee had placed their family. Grabbing her veil off the hook, Haewon stepped out of the house and slipped her feet into her sandals.
“We are ruined!” her mother’s shrill voice rang, echoing through the open windows of their humble abode.
“If rumors spread, their chances of marriage will all be ruined! My dear husband, what, tell me, what am I to do with three unmarried daughters? Every family gathering, your brothers and sisters scold me so for raising such unruly girls! And if they learn of this incident? Oh, simply thinking of how cruel and mean they will be to us! My poor heart—it is already difficult to breathe!”
Her mother hadn’t stopped wailing over the gibang-house incident since their return the night before, and chastising Jade for not keeping a closer watch on Yeonhee.
When Jade, holding back her tears, had fled the house, Mistress Myeongok had turned her wrath onto Haewon.
But now, her father had returned from his walk and he had become the newest target of her scolding.
“You must speak to Yeonhee,” Mother called after her husband, following him in and out of his study, down the hall, and around the house. “She ought to be rebuked!”
“Yeobo,” came her father’s voice, as tranquil as ever, “I fear that my powers of rebuke have long since been exhausted by Yeonhee’s recklessness.”
“But our daughters’ reputations, your reputation, is at stake!
What is the point of studying for the civil service exam, when the lives of your girls are in shambles?
Did you not hear what Yeonhee said? She shared with me a most shocking account, thinking it quite funny.
Are you listening? She said that Lord Yu—the Lord Yu Seojun!
—was witness to this embarrassing affair!
And his family is close to royalty—that is what all the villagers say!
One word from him, and everyone will be whispering.
Scandalmongers will delight in this gossip, and soon all of Joseon will know of Yeonhee’s indiscretion!
” Mother declared all in one breath. “You will soon die from old age, and I from a broken heart. How will our girls fend for themselves when we are gone?”
“Everything will work out in the end. It always does,” Father continued in his usual, unperturbed manner. “Besides, I’ve always believed that you have a special talent for managing our silly daughters and their … adventures. I will trust your wisdom in dealing with this matter.”
Haewon couldn’t stand to hear any more. She hated how helpless it all made her feel.
Catching up her skirt, she quickened her steps, and soon she was running, her heels striking hard across the dirt road. Do not run, she could hear Maid Boram’s phantom voice. It is unladylike to run! Haewon ran faster, for if she did not run, she feared she would cry from frustration.
There were too many rules a woman had to live by.
Too many strings attached to her—her mind, her heart, her very soul—forever pulling and pulling at her.
It was all horribly unfair. Lord Yu and his ilk entered the House of Bright Flowers as they pleased, while Yeonhee only snuck in under the cover of her silk veil, and her mother had spent the entire day weeping as though the world were about to fall apart.
Because if word spread, their world would fall apart.
Haewon ran until her skirt was coated in dust, her chest heaving for air, needles shooting through her lungs with each breath. Her mouth felt dry and her face was flushed, but she refused to cry. Whenever she did, her eyes puffed red; Jade would see and the burden in her heart would double.
Wiping her brow, Haewon made her way up the slope. As she’d expected, she found Jade sitting on the hill overlooking a stream, the hill they’d always retreated to whenever they wished to escape the house.
“Eonni,” Haewon called out breathlessly. She collapsed onto the grass next to her older sister. “I knew I’d find you here.”
Jade sat with her knees drawn up, watching the women below.
A small crowd of them chattered as they rolled and pounded their laundry in the shrunken stream, its waters thin and slow from the drought.
Nearby, Yeonhee swung carelessly on a creaking geune-ttwigi swing, her voice carrying over the breeze as she ordered Maid Boram to push faster.
“I don’t know how Yeonhee laughs like that, so unworried,” Haewon remarked. “She’s convinced the rumors won’t spread. She says hardly anyone saw her at the House of Bright Flowers.”
Jade didn’t respond. She always responded.
Peeking at her sister’s face, Haewon frowned. “You look miserable. What is it?”
Jade remained quiet for a moment longer.
Then, softly, she said, “When the government official visited last week, he said that when a woman lives a moral life, word spreads about her, as word might spread about precious gems, and it would be—” She sniffled, then dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief.
“That it would be natural for such women to receive marriage proposals from honorable families.” Her fingers twisted the cloth.
“But I am unmarried at five and twenty and I feel it is somehow my fault. How will I care for you all, should rumors spread—”
“You are unmarried because no match was ever good enough for Mother,” Haewon pointed out. “Besides, I think Yeonhee is right. Rumors won’t spread.”
“How can you both be so certain?”
“Lord Yu, that gentleman from the House of Bright Flowers. He seems the type to dislike idle gossip. In fact, I doubt he enjoys conversation at all.” Haewon forced a smile. “And as she shared, few saw Yeonhee at the gibang, and those who did are her friends.”
But the frown remained etched into Jade’s brow. “There’s something else,” she whispered, then hesitated. “You said, when you went to fetch Yeonhee, you heard her mention a gentleman.”
“Yes.”
Jade took a breath, then looked away. “I read her journal.”
“What?” Haewon couldn’t hide the disbelief in her voice. “She’ll murder you.”
Jade’s face burned a flaming red. “The moment you mentioned she was speaking with a man, I knew she was hiding something. I had to be sure. As the eldest, I feel responsible. I don’t want to see Mother and Father hurt. Please, don’t tell her, but … look.”
She pulled a slip of paper from her sleeve and handed it to Haewon. “I found a letter in her journal, pasted onto the most recent page. I copied it exactly.”
Tense and uneasy, Haewon took the letter.
Dear Mistress Yeonhee,
I write this in haste before my acquaintances join me. It was a pleasure conversing with you. Indeed, I must agree that no two minds are as alike as ours.
Your insights on Western teachings and class reform were most compelling, and I would be honored to continue our discussion.
Should you wish to correspond, you may send your letters to Clerk Gonghwe of Hanseong City Administration on Yukjo Street, to whom I have entrusted my letters during my brief stay in the capital.
With great respect,
Your admirer
Haewon stared at the words. Just to be certain she hadn’t misread, she read it again.
Yeonhee—her little sister, the plump-cheeked child she’d piggybacked until she had fallen asleep on her shoulder—was flirting with a man.
This felt like opening a door she was never meant to look behind.
An unsettling sensation crept over her: a realization that, no matter how well she thought she knew someone, she never truly did.
“This is serious,” Haewon said.
Jade nodded. “I think Yeonhee will write back. And if this continues, what then? What if this turns into a love affair? What if he doesn’t offer for her hand? She is only sixteen—”
Both sisters yelped as Yeonhee suddenly plopped down beside them.
“My ears are itching. Are you whispering about me? I told Jade to stop moping. You agree with me, do you not, Haewon eonni, that rumors will not spread?” she asked, her veil falling from her head and pooling on the grass as she wove flowers into her hair.
Haewon grabbed the veil and threw it back over Yeonhee’s head.
“There’s no man in sight.” Yeonhee threw her veil back off. “Who ought I hide myself from?”
“You can’t always do whatever you wish,” Haewon snapped.
“You’re still upset with me, I see. It seems you are in need of a reminder: I didn’t go to the gibang house to associate with men. I told you so already,” Yeonhee said with great forbearance. “I went there to meet my friends—”
“Are you going to keep associating with him?” Haewon demanded.
Yeonhee blinked.
“When I went to the gibang house,” Haewon said, “I overheard it all. You met someone there.”
“Oh yes. I spoke with a man, and I’m not ashamed,” she said tartly. “I enjoyed talking to him. There’s no one in this village who understands me, no one else who cares about these things.”
Jade frowned. “These things?”
“The world outside of eligible bachelors, outside of gossip,” Yeonhee said sharply, and her voice rose with frustration.
“Everyone here is fixated on marriage, on these silly edicts, while the world beyond is shifting. Interest in the Western teachings is growing like wildfire, and did you know it is Joseon women who are spearheading the Catholic community? And at court, the factions continue to clash in their never-ending fight for power. A river of blood will flow. And yet Mother only weeps about Jade’s lack of a husband.
” She huffed. “I’ll go mad if I must remain confined to this little village. ”
Jade sighed. “Who raised you to be this way?”
“I want to be known,” Yeonhee said fiercely. “To be respected. To be—” She faltered.
“To be what?”
“To be … more.”
Silence filled the space between them, muffling the distant sounds of splashing water and laughter.
“You need to be careful,” Haewon said at last.
“Your time will come,” Jade chimed in solemnly, yet still she sounded sweet and gentle. “You’ll marry soon and leave this village.”
“My time?” Yeonhee’s face reddened. “Mother says I cannot marry until Older Sister marries, but Jade is nearly six and twenty! How ashamed I should be if I were not married before then.”
“Yeonhee!” Haewon snapped.
But Yeonhee bolted to her feet, as though wrenching herself free from her sisters. And the girl staring down at them was no longer the pudgy baby sister Haewon had once adored; she was gone, and in her place was a fiery young woman who would not be contained.
“I will not stay here and—and—sew and cook my life away like I’m told to,” Yeonhee said, eyes burning. “I will not settle, as you both have, for a dull and ordinary life.”
“You need to stop speaking with this man. And you need to stop associating with those interested in heretical ideas,” Haewon urged. “It’s dangerous.”
“You want to control me,” Yeonhee shot back, “yet you transcribe illegal books that are tantamount to treason!”
“That is different—”
“Is it?” Yeonhee scoffed. “Everyone in Five Willows knows the only transcriber who dared to copy the Catholic manual is Magpie.”
“Haewon transcribes it,” Jade swept in to explain.
“That does not mean she believes it. And Haewon has done her due diligence in remaining discreet. She writes under a pseudonym. Your sister understands that to ruin herself would mean to ruin her entire family. Something, I fear, you have yet to fully grasp.”
Yeonhee’s fire sputtered. She sank back down onto the grass.
“I do grasp it,” she said miserably. “And I do care for you, my sisters.” Her lashes lowered, and she plucked absentmindedly at the grass.
“Believe me. I won’t be reckless. I won’t see him again, or write to him. All right? So don’t tell Father.”
Haewon held on to the sight of Yeonhee, feeling torn. It felt like her duty to tell their father. It physically pained her, and how much more must it agonize Jade, who had never kept secrets from their parents? And yet, Haewon cherished her sisters more than anything. They had raised one another.
Long days when their mother lay abed, grieving, after their little brother had passed.
Their father locked away in his study for hours.
It had been just them, the three Shin sisters.
Playing in the red sunset. Whispering under the covers long after the candle was blown out.
Sneaking out barefoot across the dewy grass to see the full moon, laughing and whispering, screaming and running when they spotted a snake in the reeds.
We are sisters, they’d declared together, an oath Haewon had strung together for them. We are bound to one another by blood, by the deepest affection. No matter what, we swear an oath of lifelong comradery.
A naive promise made as children.
Now she looked at Yeonhee and thought of that promise.
“Very well,” Haewon whispered. “I’ll trust you.”
Jade hesitated, her face so pale she looked about to be ill. Her brows were knotted, and dark emotions shifted in her eyes. At length she let out a sigh of defeat. “Please, do not get yourself into further trouble, Shin Yeonhee. You must promise me this.”
Yeonhee nodded. Wilted flowers clung to her hair as she pulled the veil back over her head. “I promise. I truly, truly mean to keep my promise this time.”