The First Night
Normally, one wasn't allowed to approach the prison at night, but since it was the first day, I'd been granted special permission to see my mother's face.
With hardly anyone at the Gwansa to begin with, it felt even emptier once night fell. Aside from a few guards on duty, it was practically deserted. Not even a single one stood watch over the cells meant to hold prisoners, which made it obvious the magistrate intended to prey on my mother's body there.
In the story, that's exactly how their relationship began, so no doubt about it. I had no idea why he'd pass up a soft quilt for straw bedding to take her, though. Maybe the prison setting or the thrill of doing it outdoors amplified the pleasure and excitement—silly speculation like that ran through my mind as I stepped into the cell block.
A sauna? Why's it so damn hot in here? The whole place was sweltering, bright almost to the point of scorching. It was hard to believe it was early autumn; the warmth suggested meticulous care to ensure the woman's body I'd claim wouldn't spoil. Absurd as it was, I could feel it.
The village was so small and humble that the prison cells looked brand new, untouched. I walked slowly along them, past the obviously hastily repaired empty ones, toward the only door that was shut, and peeked inside.
“……”
There sat a woman with her head bowed deeply, posture ramrod straight on the soft bed of rice straw. No one would see her, so she could have slouched comfortably, yet she exuded an air of impeccable dignity, unashamed even before the heavens themselves. I couldn't help but let out a hollow chuckle at the sight.
Even in captivity, she couldn't fully maintain her composure—her hair, always neatly pinned up, hung loose like a maiden ghost's, lending a poignant vulnerability.
That's Jeong Hyang, my mother.
In the story, when Jeong Hyang first faced humiliation from the magistrate, she'd considered suicide instead. He'd mocked her unyielding spirit, pointing out how her son was fighting desperately outside to clear her name while she sought to abandon the world—calling her weak, scraping at her pride.
Torn between dying pure and chaste or her maternal love, Mother had swallowed her tears and walked the path of shame. Her firm belief that her son would clear her name had sustained her, but it would later turn to poison.
Of course, in the end, Jeong Hyang went mad and fell upon hearing her son had died en route to the capital to plead her case. But that was the future, the tale of the foolish original Jeong Yun, not me. Unwritten now, the current Jeong Hyang stood tall like an unbroken pine, proud and lofty.
With her hands bound behind her back, even basic movement looked difficult; she probably couldn't eat alone like that. I admired her regal poise for a moment before opening the cell door and stepping in.
Sensing my presence, Mother slowly raised her head. Her weary eyes widened in shock upon seeing me, her body jolting.
“Je, Jeong Yun! H-how… how did you?!”
Mother never raised her voice beyond a certain level with others, but the crack in hers betrayed her astonishment.
“Mother. Your son has come to attend to you.”
“Wh-what? Attend? What nonsense is this? What in the world are you saying?!”
She panicked and thrashed about, forgetting her hands were bound behind her. She tried to stand abruptly and pitched forward.
“Ah?!”
Her startled cry echoed through the cell. I caught her falling body, pulling her soft form into my arms and stroking her back soothingly, as if to calm her.
Regaining her balance after nearly tumbling, Mother seemed to find solace in her son's sturdy embrace and human warmth.
“Mother. I'll explain everything, so please calm down.”
With that, still holding her close, I confessed the deal with the magistrate—or rather, my one-sided proposal.
“You're truly mad! Do you know where you are, sneaking in here like this?! Ah, aah! That lecherous bastard magistrate has finally caused real trouble!”
Mother spat curses with a ferocity that could chew him up if he appeared before her. She'd paid him no mind before, but rumors she'd overheard and now this false accusation forced her to confront him. In that short time, her impression of the man had plummeted to rock bottom.
“G-go back! Hurry and go! It's not too late yet. Go!”
She cried out urgently, desperately, as if she'd already foreseen how she'd be treated here.
I feigned the innocent, filial son who knew nothing, speaking to her.
“Mother, how can you say such heartless words? From childhood, you've been the only important thing in my life. Why push me away so coldly?”
“Th-that's…!”
She mumbled, unable to voice it herself. What mother would tell her son she might soon face humiliations unfit for a woman?
“Listen to your mother! The false charge will be cleared someday, and then we can return to our simple life. Go home, do your work, and wait for me.”
It was a dream. From the moment she was locked in here, Mother must have sensed something was deeply wrong, that escape wouldn't be easy. She knew better than anyone they couldn't return to those peaceful, humble days.
“I know. Your son knows better than anyone that you have no shame to bear.”
As I spoke, I pulled her deeper, tighter into my embrace. I felt her body tremble and flinch, but she didn't push me away as coldly as before. I held her firmly, drawing her closer so she'd have no choice but to lean on me, her resolve weakening against the warmth.
No matter how hot the cell, the subtle allure of another's body heat was an irresistible magic.
“Your son trusts you more than anyone in this world. As much as you trust me. So pushing me away now wounds me deeply.”
“Je, Jeong Yun…”
I felt her voice tremble in my arms. Reason told her to send me away immediately. But enveloped in another's warmth, stirred by her son's blind faith and dependence that tugged at her maternal instincts—even a woman as steadfast as her couldn't help but waver.
“N-no. Go back. H-hurry…! Even now, if you go, it'll be fine…”
“Mother. The moment I can come and go from this cell as I please, the magistrate has already accepted my request. Breaking the agreement now—who knows what punishment might fall?”
“Ah, aah… aaaah…! What… what am I to do?”
She despaired, at a loss over her foolish son who'd thrust his neck into the tiger's jaws in her absence. Unaware it was my script, she felt her son's deep filial piety turning to poison, heralding even greater humiliation.
“Worry not. I'm working every angle to clear your name. It will be resolved soon.”
“……”
She didn't respond to my comfort. She knew best it was a false charge, unlikely to lift easily—and why the magistrate had framed her. Silence was all she could offer.
I held her tight, chaining her with the fetter of sonhood to prevent escape into death's peace. Now, she couldn't take her own life; she'd have to endure the shame.
“I wish to talk longer, but late nights don't permit visits like this. Today was special, being the first.”
She flinched sharply, as if stabbed. I looked down carefully at her face buried in my chest. Beneath eyelids swollen round like a full moon, her dark eyes trembled like an earthquake.
She'd realized why the absurd rule existed barring a son attending her at night.
“I-I see. Understood. The night air is cold. G-go inside now.”
From hearing she couldn't come at night, Mother grew frantic to send me away as soon as possible. She kept glancing toward the entrance, as if expecting the magistrate any moment, but I pretended not to notice.
“Yes. Rest well through the night, Mother. I'll stay at the Gwansa from now on and attend you come morning.”
At my wish for her to rest well through the night, she burrowed deeper into my arms, terrified of the darkness ahead.