Gyeong-ae’s mother hadn’t meant to unleash such an outpouring of invective, but the sight of Ui-gyeong made her blood boil and her maternal instincts took over. Back in the street, she immediately regretted the outburst and tried to persuade her daughter to remain on Sang-hun’s good side. “I said what I said, but how can we cut ties with him when there’s your child to think of? That young thing he’s fooling around with — it can’t last long, can it?”
Gyeong-ae stared at her mother in profound disbelief.
Later that day, Deok-gi’s mother stormed out of her house, asking the servant to pack up the furniture and appliances and send them to the big house. Her husband was defying all decency and speaking with him was like reading a Buddhist scripture to an ox. She couldn’t stand the sight of the tarts — young and old — who flocked to her house at the crack of dawn, turning it into a marketplace. Although Sang-hun did what he could to ignore the commotion, his wife’s relocation to the big house provided no great relief.
It was noisy for a while, with Deok-gi coming and going, but two days later, the mother and daughter had moved. Won-sam and his wife didn’t feel like staying on, and when Maedang asked them to vacate the servants’ quarters to make room for her people, they jumped at the chance and found a rented room near Hyoja-dong with the thought of helping out at Sanhaejin.
The Suwon woman gave up the main room when Deok-gi’s mother arrived with her furnishings, but she tried to hold her ground for the sake of appearances, saying that she could leave only after three years’ mourning. Before long, though, she said she wouldn’t mind going as long as they kept a room ready for her, even if they needed to keep her things in storage. She then went to Hwagae-dong, the house in which her “niece,” Ui-gyeong, was now settling. She no longer bickered with Sang-hun or concealed anything from him. Sang-hun, for his part, got along with her well enough, perhaps because of their shared resentment for Deok-gi.
Maedang was charged up, as if she were helping her own daughter set up house. Flanked by the sisterhood, she made a majestic entrance even before the lawful wife’s furniture had moved an inch. Maedang’s contribution to the new household amounted to nothing more than a box of matches, but after ripping apart the house, she was enthroned in the main room and took control of everything. Accustomed to living well, she had in mind a complete list of essentials for a household, all of which materialized as soon as she gave the word. Chang-hun and Clerk Choe were her devoted runners. Regularly furnishing houses for her adopted kin, she was a seasoned hand, and so was Clerk Choe by now. Shops on Jongno supplied the items on Maedang’s wishlist without hesitation.
This woman’s credo was “buy the very best, for money is no object.” The buyer naturally thinks this way when paying with someone else’s money, but this woman’s credibility and prowess were held in high esteem by the tradesmen; she paid in full, without haggling, as soon as they delivered her order.
Word was sent to a furniture store for a three-tiered chest of red sandalwood, a wardrobe with a glittering full-length mirror, another in which to keep bedding — though no bedding had been prepared yet — a display for ceramic wares, a chamber-pot rest, another full-length mirror, a decorative day mattress with a long, squat armrest; there seemed to be no end.
A cabinet and a rice chest were brought to the kitchen annex, and the center veranda was to be furnished like a Western-style reception room. To the brassware store, to the porcelain store, to the fabric store Choe was sent. She seemed to expect that Sang-hun would sell his rice paddy to pay for all these items. The commotion continued for several days, not unlike a house on the eve of a wedding. In a fit of anger, Sang-hun’s wife had removed all the pots from their cradles on the stove and had whisked them away with her. New pots were being fitted in the kitchen, while seamstresses, brought in from several households, were seated together making new bedding. Won-sam’s friends stood outside the gate and whispered among themselves whenever new furnishings were taken in, for they didn’t see a penny being spent in their shops.
“How long will she last here?”
“Who does she think she is? Does she think her luck will last, hauling in such a load on the same day the legal wife was kicked out?”
“If I had a pretty daughter, I’d become a queen’s father.”
“I’ll send my Eon-nyeon to a gisaeng house when the girl turns twelve.”
“Then?”
“After five years, she’ll become the youngest concubine of some important master.”
“Sure, dream on.”
Standing in the sun cracking jokes, they seemed to have forgotten how hungry they were.
“I don’t need to listen to your story. When you get rich, I’m gonna get a high-interest loan and buy you a couple drinks. So why don’t you borrow some money now and buy me one?”
“Sounds good. But how about you borrow money and buy me one of those drinks of yours first? We can toast to what’s just around the corner anyway, right?”
“What was I thinking? We should hurry up and give birth to Eon-nyeon first.”
They burst out laughing — jokes were their trusted friends.
Five or six days after moving in, Maedang assembled the bills and gave them to Sang-hun. Without even looking at them, Sang-hun told Clerk Choe to take them to Deok-gi.
Leafing through them, Deok-gi shook his head when his eyes settled on the grand total, more than fourteen hundred won.
“After the funeral expenses, there was over four thousand won in the bankbook my father took a while ago. What did he do with all that money and what does he expect me to do with these bills?” His father, who hadn’t touched the land deeds, had taken the bank records with him after the will was read.
“One bag of rice fetches only fourteen won these days. I would need to sell a hundred bags to come up with this amount.” Deok-gi muttered to himself as he folded up the bills and pushed them toward Choe.
“Well, I can’t help you here, but your father asked me to bring them over, so I guess you’ll do what’s right.”
Deok-gi sat quietly for a moment before placing the bills in a drawer.
The next day, Deok-gi went to Hwagae-dong.
Boisterous voices were drifting from the main room, knives clacked against chopping boards in a corner of the veranda, and meal trays were being piled in another corner. A festive house, it seemed. Everything looked so new that Deok-gi thought he must have come to the wrong house. Catching sight of a long white row of women’s shoes lined up below the veranda, he hesitated. The women preparing food eyed the unfamiliar young man before the main room was informed that a visitor had arrived. The hubbub quieted briefly before Clerk Choe looked out.
“Come in. Your father is here.”
The group of women in the main room leapt up as if someone had barked out an order. Deok-gi’s face burned when the constellation of young women’s eyes twinkled at him. He could discern neither their faces nor their outfits, but as they filed out to the veranda, they looked like gisaeng going home after a voice lesson.