Tasting Again After Nineteen Years (3)
She opened her eyes, weary of the familiar light.
Red lanterns casting their glow into the room.
How many years had she been looking at this light now?
She couldn't quite remember when she'd first entered Nakseongguan.
What she did remember was the image of a little boy clinging fast to the calves of the woman who claimed to be the establishment's head manager — just old enough that the toddling no longer looked out of place.
Yes. He couldn't have been five yet.
"Huu…"
Fourteen years since then? Fifteen?
It felt interminable.
She'd come here at an age when she barely knew what a man was, lured by some nameless woman's coaxing — You could be the best. I guarantee it.
And here she still was, dancing, singing, and from time to time mixing flesh with flesh.
Climbing the stairs one by one.
From the first floor to the second, from the second to the third…
No one at Nakseongguan had ever experienced both the first floor and the fifth.
But now, looking in the mirror, at the end of those years spent climbing to the summit, she saw a woman sprawled ungracefully on the floor.
There was nowhere left to climb. Nowhere left to reach for.
Only the slow descent remained.
When the winds of time pushed at her back, all that was left was to tumble from the peak.
"…Bring me a fan."
A sudden flutter of sound came from beyond the paper door.
Before long the door cracked open, and a fan too large for one hand was carried in on a tray.
She took it in her right hand.
Clack! Snap! Clack-clack, snap!
She tested the familiar fan, opening it smoothly, then half-hid her face behind the spread blades.
The woman in the mirror smiled faintly at her.
"Huu…"
She moved her feet.
The room was spacious enough. She walked in a straight line without the slightest bend, then extended her right leg and spun — and at that moment swept the fan wide, sending her sleeve fluttering.
"The wrist a little more… the head, and the twist of chest and waist…"
The more things she had to mind, the more the dancer's smile in the mirror wavered from moment to moment.
A frowning face had never looked so ugly.
—Snap!
She stopped.
"Haaaah……"
She exhaled completely. Set the fan back on the tray. Sat on the bed she'd only just risen from, and pressed a hand to her forehead.
Practicing song and dance even on days without appointments — that had been her long-standing habit.
But lately it wouldn't go the way she wanted.
Only a few years ago, the dance had taken shape naturally without her even thinking about it. She'd sung the songs of her hometown without shrinking even among a dozen imperial palace officials.
She looked in the mirror.
The brilliant Wolbaek was no longer there.
The pure child from before Nakseongguan had long since gone as well.
Only a woman remained, sitting on the bed because she didn't want to descend the mountain.
No lover beside her. No guest. No one at all.
The woman in the mirror reached a hand toward the sky — grasping nothing, wanting nothing.
The fierce winds of the summit, the countless rumors, kept pushing her.
About Lady Cheonghwa's decision this time…
Wolbaek is already past her prime…
Youth and beauty were always…
Was that really true?
She felt as though nothing about her had changed. She was simply walking the same path she'd always walked.
But when she looked back, the road was cut off, and the people who'd walked beside her had vanished like mirages.
"You could be the best. I guarantee it."
Beside her… there was no one.
"Ugh… hhk…"
Something deeper than the center of her heart throbbed.
Something was missing. Desperately missing.
In herself, and in everything around her.
Of course.
Who pays attention to a waning moon?
Wolbaek's chambers were quiet.
It wasn't her doing — clearly the apprentices had arranged it — but everywhere except her bed was neatly tidied, and a faint fragrance hung in the air.
But there was a distinct smell of water. The scent of moisture that naturally comes from a person.
Yet looking at how the smell of a salt merchant she'd once caught at the market was thicker in the room than the grassy scent of a stream, this was unmistakably the smell of tears.
"I heard you haven't been leaving your room."
"…Were you worried?"
"Not me. Mother."
Wolbaek turned her head slightly away from him.
"Because Nakseongguan's treasure is losing its value."
"Treasure… ha."
"What, you don't believe it?"
"If it were me, I'd gift my treasure to someone higher than myself."
"It could be a treasure you don't want to give to anyone."
"Me? To Lady Cheonghwa? That's not even funny. That would never happen."
"Is it because you got scolded so badly on my account?"
Wolbaek said nothing.
She tried to look at him, then flinched as if startled by something and dropped her gaze.
Fear? Or dizziness?
"Young Master's mother… will keep that matter in her heart, but she's not the type to misjudge value because of it."
"Then all the more reason — it must be because you're an incomparably precious treasure."
"Eut…"
Wolbaek's face tightened slightly.
Right now she wanted to blame all her misfortune on Cheonghwa, but this son of hers kept speaking only well of her.
"That treasure, as you can see, is not doing well. Because of Young Master's mother. Everyone looks at me and says the same thing. Wolbaek is finished."
Wolbaek raised her head.
There was the fresh face of a young man just beginning to know women. No trace remained of the little child she'd once carried on her back.
She hated to admit it, but he too took after his mother — the type who moved people's hearts with his face.
"…You seem to be mistaken about where you are right now."
"Mistaken? I know my position exactly. The outermost edge of Nakseongguan."
Having spoken aloud the thing she'd always doubted and fretted over, the words that followed came more easily.
"Young Master. This world isn't one that only recognizes you more as you grow older. You also need to know when to step back—"
"—No, enough."
Jin Yu cut her off. Then turned his head toward the bright light outside the window.
"Where you are right now. I'm asking where this is."
"…Nakseongguan…"
"The fifth floor. You're still here, on the fifth floor of Nakseongguan."
"…"
"You're one of the Ohui. In this Yangzhou — no, I'll say it exactly as Mother put it. One of 'the five most beautiful women in the Central Plains.' Still."
Wolbaek felt dazed by Jin Yu's continued praise.
Why?
What reason did he have to say such things to her, when until now he'd only avoided her?
But she didn't dislike the words. Rather, they were exactly what she most wanted to hear right now.
And in that moment, he casually tossed out a proposal beyond even what Wolbaek had hoped for.
"I'm planning to recommend you to Mother for the Un-cheong selection list."
"What…"
Half sincere, half a lie.
Like when he'd met Mokhwa, Jin Yu was working hard to make a choice that went against his mother's opinion.
Ever since learning she'd cried, he'd kept elevating her, and at her lack of confidence he'd dropped words that would surprise her.
It wasn't from any bad intention. Rather, it was to prove his qualifications a little earlier regarding Cheonghwa's promise to someday give him full responsibility for Nakseongguan — by producing an investigation so excellent that his mother would reverse her decision.
Of course, it was also true that even while avoiding Wolbaek all this time, he'd instinctively been unable to help stealing glances at her chest and hips.
And how well she maintained her face — from the outside she looked mid-twenties, and on days when she'd absorbed yang energy, even early twenties.
So half sincere, half a lie.
He'd never been alone with her this long. Not for at least six years.
Perhaps because he'd kept meeting her eyes for the sake of a woman who kept avoiding his gaze, he thought he understood why Wolbaek had held the position of Hui for over ten years.
The countless years spent as a courtesan had separated her from the ordinary people of this world.
The delicacy at her fingertips as she brushed back her hair. The unwavering posture of kneeling while keeping her back straight to emphasize her curves. Breathing only with her chest rather than her belly, so that the volume rose and fell beneath her nightclothes. Even while speaking with him, the unconscious coquetry of drawing circles on the table with an upright fingertip.
It was like a martial artist whose sword path had settled after long training.
"Th…en. If I ask Young Master, does that mean I could be the one who goes to Beijing?"
Her trembling breath, her flushed cheeks, made her look even more alluring.
"At least it's worth trying."
"Anything!!"
In that instant, Wolbaek's upright posture collapsed — because she'd planted her hands on the table and leaned her body toward him.
"I'll do it… whatever it is…!!"
"…Whatever it is?"
"Yes…!!"
She could see light. She could see a lifeline.
She'd thought that even reaching for the sky, nothing would catch in her hands anymore — but no longer.
If she could just persuade this man well — no, if she could just seduce him well — she could go to the Emperor.
Of course, she might be discarded even after going to Beijing. But it didn't matter.
Even if she returned, what would remain was the greatest courtesan of the Central Plains who might have gone to His Majesty the Emperor.
More guests would come. More juniors would seek her out.
Not a faded courtesan, but Wolbaek who remained lofty even after countless years.
A white full moon shining bright even on dark nights.
"…Tell me what you have that overwhelmingly surpasses the other women."
"Overwhelmingly…"
"You've heard the rumors, I'm sure — that Gyeonghwa, Cheonsua, and Geumryang will be selected. You need to be better than them to push them out and make the list, don't you?"
Gyeonghwa was skilled at acting. She matched her guests' moods and desires well — found and fulfilled what they wanted even when they themselves didn't know.
Cheonsua was mysterious. Wherever Cheonghwa had brought her from, the girl possessed a beauty that didn't seem to belong in the Central Plains. And… to Wolbaek, she felt somehow empty. Like wanting to fill a crack in a wall, her empty spaces made guests keep thinking of pouring their hearts into her.
Geumryang was beautiful. Young, and dazzling. The girl most often compared to Wolbaek herself.
"I am… a dancer. I'm good at dance and song…"
Wolbaek trailed off mid-sentence.
Hadn't she realized just a few dozen minutes ago? That her skill was no longer what it once was.
Others might not notice, but her counterpart was the Young Master who'd lived his whole life at Nakseongguan. If she showed him that mistake-riddled dance from earlier, he'd see through it immediately.
"I know your dance and song are excellent."
"Th-then…!"
"But can that steal the Emperor's heart? It's not as if you'll keep singing in the bedchamber."
"…"
"Mother said the same thing. That Wolbaek isn't someone anyone would keep around long-term. I agree. You shine brighter than anyone at banquets. But… Un-cheong won't be a place for banquets alone."
Wolbaek fell silent.
The words it's not as if you'll keep singing in the bedchamber lodged in her mind.
Something that could keep shining beside His Majesty even if she stayed with him a long time.
Simply put, it was beauty.
But could that defeat Cheonsua and Geumryang? Could it defeat Gyeonghwa, who shifted her expression moment by moment, swapping into whatever atmosphere her counterpart would find most appealing?
Wolbaek had no confidence.
"If I may dare say just one thing."
Jin Yu cleared his throat and slightly avoided Wolbaek's gaze.
In his mind, the anything Wolbaek had cried out earlier was circling.
Whatever it is.
Whatever it is, huh?
How far did "whatever" go?
"Mokhwa thought highly of what you've got resting on the table right now."
"On the table…? Wh-wha…?!"
Wolbaek looked down and realized she'd been resting her breasts on the table out of habit, as she always did.
Heat rushed to her face.
Of course, she'd heard lewd jokes like this dozens of times before. That her chest was big, that it must be so heavy, that she was a dairy cow…
Back then, in her young heart, she'd shouted back — and once her head had grown a bit more, she'd used it as a tool of seduction too.
But those crude types were mostly below the third floor. So for the past few years, she hadn't heard such things.
Was it because her immunity had faded? Or because such words had come from that face?
Wolbaek was reacting exactly like a virgin.
She hastily pulled her body back, but she couldn't escape the Young Master's gaze. She snuck a look at his face, and the moment her eyes tangled with his gaze directed below her chin, both of them lowered their heads at once.
A brief deep breath.
Wolbaek quickly shed her virgin-like demeanor. But for someone who'd risen above the fourth floor, she had no solution for handling such blatant interest. From that point on, it had never once been a problem.
So she called for help from the Wolbaek who'd lived on the third floor.
The young Wolbaek who'd seized guests' dirty talk and flipped them with a counter-throw opened her mouth.
"……I-if they're so wonderful, why don't you… show them some affection."
"H-huh?"
"In exchange… y-you'll have to pay half my daily rate per side. Because once they're… s-soiled, they can't be used again until they're washed."
When she'd spoken so boldly, every guest present had only laughed heartily. Among those who came to the third floor, none had money to spare. If they did, they'd have gone to the fourth floor where only the upper-class courtesans gathered.
But this was the fifth floor, and the man sitting before her was a great person who would someday swallow all of Nakseongguan.
Such a threat would never work.
Wolbaek studied his expression.
His face was flushed with heat just like hers. And yet, floating there were several emotions different from shame.
That one of them was boiling sexual desire — Wolbaek's courtesan instincts could tell.
"I-it was a joke, Young Master. A jo—"
"I'll pay."
"…"
"Two days' worth."
Sexual desire is highly contagious.
Just as when someone shows a face full of lust, or even just makes a sound, the people around immediately react — it was probably a reproductive habit cultivated since long ago, when humanity lived in caves.
Wolbaek stared blankly at the hand crossing over the table.
Then raised her head and looked into Jin Yu's eyes, lit with desire.
Thump, thump.
Her heart beat like a drum.
Tightly pressed lips. The flush rising in his cheeks. The hand approaching her, the white skin half-hidden by the sleeve beneath, the flowing veins, the twitching muscles.
"Y-Young Master…"
"Whatever it is."
"Heut…"
"You clearly said you'd do anything."
"…!"
At that low, strangely coercive voice, Wolbaek unconsciously drew in a breath.
Her waist straightened of its own accord. Her chest pushed further forward, lifting off the table.
His expression, reading that slight movement, twisted as if he would devour her.
The force that had been drawing the prey Wolbaek's shoulders forward released. His fingers had already come right up to the front of her nightclothes.
…Squeeeeeze……
"Haa…"
"Heuut……!!"
It was the moment Wolbaek's left breast softly accepted his touch.
…What is that?
From the tip of her breast that his right hand was gripping, all the way to beneath her chin, Jin Yu could see thin lines like cobwebs spreading outward.