Chapter 10
The following week, with three transcribed copies of Munmuja’s newest stories prepared, Haewon convinced Jade to visit the Five Willows bookshop, with Maid Boram as their escort.
She was convinced that if Jade remained home a moment longer, her sister would surely spend the entire day moping about her future.
A government official had arrived earlier to rebuke Mother for rejecting every suitor as unworthy of Jade, to the point that no matchmaker would even consider the Shin household anymore.
He warned that if Jade did not marry within two months, Father would face punishment, and the official himself would be dismissed from his post and haunt their doorstep for the remainder of his life.
“Do not fret,” Haewon said as they entered the secret book-lending shop. “It will turn out fine. Everything works out in the end, as Father always says.”
“I’m sure it will.” Jade smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “I feel cheered up already, being here. Go on now. You have books for Mistress Wol.”
“I’ll be back with you soon, I promise!”
Haewon walked down the aisle, nodded to a few familiar patrons as well as Mistress Wol’s thug-like assistant, then slipped into the narrow passage leading to the scribes’ workroom.
Her mind was so full of concern for her sister that she didn’t hear the heavy footsteps until she nearly collided with a gentleman.
Startled, Haewon glanced up, and her eyes landed on Lord Yu, his imperial features shaded by the brim of his gentleman’s hat, the jade-beaded hat string swaying as he quickly stepped aside, pressing up against a shelf of books. The passageway was too narrow for two.
“Begging your pardon,” she whispered as she squeezed past him, her traitorous silk dress brushing against him like a caress. The proximity was absolutely excruciating.
As soon as she passed, she glanced over her shoulder and watched as he straightened the stack of books behind him.
She waited for him to turn his eyes and look her way, for his brows to lift in recognition, but he didn’t.
His dark eyes didn’t look at her, not once.
Instead, he seemed lost in thought, brooding, as he stalked off.
He was gone now, but Haewon couldn’t move.
She felt anchored to the spot, staring at where he had stood moments ago, her heart thrumming a wild beat. Perhaps her heart had recognized him: an enemy in another lifetime. A smile played across her lips at this thought, then fell away as another seized her mind.
Quickening her steps, she crossed over to Wol in the adjoining room. She set the stack of books down a little too roughly. “You know him?”
Wol readjusted her jade-rimmed spectacles. “Whom?”
“The gentleman who left a moment ago.”
“Vaguely. He was explaining why a book he borrowed was … stolen. Someone recently broke into his residence.”
“He reads novels? He doesn’t seem the sort.”
“And you know what sort of man he is?” Wol examined her, rather curiously. “How do you know him?”
“It’s a long story, and all you need to know is that he isn’t the sort I would want to further my acquaintance with.”
“Is that so,” Wol murmured. Then she waved a hand.
“Leave the copies you transcribed. I’ll review them in a moment.
I spent the whole day fixing Scribe Im’s mistakes,” she grumbled, running a finger across squares of paper pasted over a page.
“I’ve received enough complaints from readers and cannot possibly send such copies into circulation.
With this many errors, they will demand their payment back.
Oh, and before you leave—the Buddhist monk I told you about, from the southern provinces?
He sent another boxful of tea. I set some aside for you. ”
“You excel at distracting me from the matter at hand, as usual,” Haewon said, even as she walked over to a side table and gleefully took the bundle wrapped in cloth. “This one?”
“Yes.”
Haewon had grown fond of tea ever since Wol had introduced her to it, though it was now difficult to come by. With Buddhism suppressed and smoking on the rise, tea had fallen out of favor. Everyone smoked—her mother, her father, even Yeonhee—but she couldn’t stand it.
She raised the bundle and breathed in the deep, earthy scent, with a pleasant bitterness at the back of it.
Her very soul sighed with delight, but she wasn’t so entirely seduced as to forget why she’d stormed over here in the first place.
“So you know Lord Yu only vaguely,” she began, keeping her voice light, “yet you let His Lordship into the back quarter. You never let just anyone in here.”
Wol remained quiet for a long moment, then replied cryptically, “I know his family well. I often visited my wealthy aunt, who dwells in his neighborhood.”
“Oh?”
“There is a saying that wealthy families lose their fortunes in three generations, but his family has maintained a good reputation over the course of several.”
“I am hardly surprised,” Haewon scoffed. “I barely know Lord Yu and one can tell he has an impeccable reputation.”
“It’s not what you think. His father, Minister Yu, and their ancestors have always lived frugally, yet were always known for their generosity.
The Yu family made sure that no one living within their vicinity died of hunger.
It is this strict teaching that was passed down from generation to generation, instead of wealth itself. ”
“So he is the perfect gentleman,” Haewon said, unimpressed.
“Well, I really must finish editing this manuscript.” Wol peered at Haewon over the rim of her spectacles. “I’ll find you later, if you’re still here.”
Haewon knew a dismissal when she heard one.
She returned to the main area of the secret book-lending shop and went from aisle to aisle, searching for her sister—as well as a new book to read.
Truly, there was no joy quite like the pleasure of searching for her next read.
Her pulse leapt, like she was wandering among countless doors, each one leading to a different world, and she was allowed to choose which story to fall into.
Unlike her, all other readers were only given a three-day borrowing period with the book of their choice; each loan cost a small fortune, but it was still more affordable than the staggering price of attempting to purchase a novel.
Haewon had seen women offer their precious jade bracelets, rings, silver hairpins, rolls of silk, or brassware—precious items kept as collateral until the books were safely returned.
Then they would have to pay a tenth of the book’s price for borrowing.
If not for Mistress Wol and their agreement, Haewon was certain that she might have lived her life never picking up a single novel in the first place.
She would have had to rely on public storytellers—
Her thoughts quieted. Her steps faltered.
Through the gaps between books, she saw Jade speaking to a gentleman dressed as colorfully as a peacock, and she was addressing him as “Young Master Byeongho.” They were talking about how he had seen Jade once or twice in Gyonam Village; he lived near it.
As they conversed on, Young Master Byeongho grinned down at Jade the entire time, head bowed as though attempting to catch a fuller glimpse of her face.
And he seemed intrigued by her quiet reserve.
And terribly quiet she was. Jade rarely spoke, each response barely more than a murmur.
One might assume that Jade was indifferent to the man, but Haewon knew better.
For her sister, the truth of her feelings was often nestled in the space between words, and Haewon could see Jade’s feelings now in the flush of her cheeks, paired with the suppressed smile quivering upon her lips.
Her eyes glowed, as though a great happiness, so uncontainable in its nature, were bursting within her.
Before Jade could spot her, Haewon quickly moved farther down the aisle, closer to the window.
The sunlight here was warm and lulling. She had barely slept the night before, rushing to finish transcribing the third copy for Wol.
And now she found herself pleasantly sleepy in the heat.
Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, her eyelids heavy as she listened to Jade’s laughter.
She thought of all the love stories she had hunted down together with Jade, stories from two centuries ago when Joseon women were portrayed as more proactive in their romances. Stories where women made choices, pursued the men they loved, and refused to be passive in their own lives …
The scent of sandalwood drifted around her, rousing her from her thoughts.
She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the gentleman who stood frozen before her.
He had a book in hand and his hat dangled behind him by its black chin strap, as if he thought himself in the privacy of his own home.
It wasn’t seemly for a gentleman to be hatless in public; it was a sight far too intimate.
“Lord Yu,” she said in a small voice, “what a pleasant surprise.”