Extravagant Bow at the Gisaeng House
Kim Si-jin of the Pyeongan Kim Ga! I'll bow so extravagantly! With nationwide fame, the favor of the retired king and the current king, and topping the military exam to boot. The pretext for the face-washing ceremony was simple: crush the spirits of these smug new scholars. It had to be the perfect bait for the seniors. I headed to Cheong-un-gak, anticipating whatever hazing they'd throw at me.
The gisaeng district, revisited after a few months, hadn't changed much. If I had to pick one difference, it was the gisaengs' outfits. They were proving it was still summer with their clothes—thin ramie jackets that subtly revealed their skin, strolling gracefully down streets lit by red lanterns. The men buzzed around them like honeybees drawn to flowers, stumbling into the gisaeng houses in a drunken haze. I wasn't intoxicated by their powder scent like they were, but I approached the door and knocked anyway.
"Anyone home?"
"...Who is it?"
A response came after a few seconds. He cracked the gate open and peeked out.
"Who're you—huh?"
"Huh? Hey, how's it going."
I knew the face.
"How's the finger?"
The guy whose finger I'd broken last time while he was choking me.
"Heh heh. Just took off the splint."
Like we had a pinky promise, he stuck out only his pinky finger. I glanced at the trembling digit and gave it a light poke.
"Does this thing, like, move at all?"
"Still got some feeling in it. Better than if it'd been chopped off, right?"
"Sorry about breaking your finger."
"Nah, my fault. How dare I not recognize even a captain."
"I was just a gapsa back then."
"Heh heh. True enough. Come on in."
We chatted as he led me inside. I'd reserved the grand banquet hall today, Cheong-un-dang, big enough for dozens of drink trays. Thinking of the face-washing ceremony in full swing there, I slipped my hand into my bosom.
"Hold onto my sword for me."
I didn't know about other gisaeng houses, but here, you had to check sharp weapons at the door.
"Here."
I pulled out the iris sword I'd hidden against my chest and handed it over.
"Heh heh! Put it in here!"
Like he'd been waiting, he produced a wooden box. I placed the sword inside and turned toward Cheong-un-dang.
"Huh? C-Captain!"
He clutched the box and blocked my path, shaking his head awkwardly with a smile.
"Y-You know the rule, but you gotta leave all sharp things here."
"Yeah, that's why I gave it."
"Not just one. All of them."
He scanned my body carefully—chest, sleeves, waist, ankles especially. All the usual hiding spots for blades. I laughed awkwardly and waved it off.
"Ah, haha! None. Just brought the one today."
"For real?"
"Yep. This is the only blade on me right now."
I turned to show him my waist. My decorative short sword dangled there. He eyed it for a moment, then nodded.
"Hand that over too."
"What? No, the short sword's fine, right? That's what I heard."
"Others can keep theirs, but you're different, Captain."
"How am I different? Four limbs like everyone else, eyes, nose, mouth—all there."
"But anything in your hands turns into a deadly weapon, from what I hear."
What, like some hitman wiping out gangs after killing a dog?
"Never heard I killed anyone with a brush, have you?"
"Oh, yeah, I've heard that rumor. Is it true?"
"Who in the world does that?"
Grumbling, I unbuckled the short sword and handed it over.
"Here."
"Heh heh heh. Thank you."
Satisfied after disarming me, he grinned. He set the box with the other guests' belongings and guided me.
"Wait here a bit, and a lady will come greet you."
"What guide? I can just walk."
"Heh heh. How could we let the captain go alone? Ah, here she comes."
I followed his gaze. A familiar face emerged from a nearby side door.
"Huh?"
Cheong-yeon, top apprentice gisaeng and heir to Cheong-wol, Cheong-un-gak's star.
She approached with an idol-like beauty and bright smile, bowing.
"I hope you've been well, sir."
"Uh, uh. Yeah. You too?"
"Hee hee hee."
She covered her mouth, amused by my flustered greeting. It wasn't her beauty—less than Eori's, anyway—that threw me off. It was that mutter I'd overheard last time.
...Gonna throw it away anyway.
I didn't know what it meant, but it sure wasn't nice. I'd shoved it to the back of my mind, but here she was again.
"Then, allow me to escort you to Cheong-un-dang."
"Ah, yeah. Got it."
"This way, sir."
She bowed again and led on. I snapped out of it and hurried after. Gisaengs' coquettish laughs, drunken men's roars, lively music—it was all heating up on the path to Cheong-un-dang.
"......"
"......"
But not for us. We walked in silence, no chit-chat.
What's with her? She was all over me last time. Now not even talking? Playing hard to get or what?
"...Sir."
Cheong-yeon spoke first.
"May I ask about your wife?"
Huh? Talking about Eori?
"My wife?"
"Yes."
Sudden much?
"That day, I pondered what you told me. I wondered what woman captured your heart. Since you're here, I thought I'd ask."
Caught off guard by the out-of-nowhere question about Eori, but no reason to refuse—and hell, I wanted to brag—so I nodded.
"Well, y'know. My wife's beautiful. Super beautiful. Seriously gorgeous. Drop-dead stunning."
"That beautiful?"
"Yeah. You'd be shocked too."
"Hearing you say that makes me want to meet her. Where in Jeonju does she reside?"
"Not here. Back home now. Oh, right. My Eori—er, wife—is pregnant."
"!"
"Huh? What?"
Cheong-yeon stopped dead at the pregnancy news, eyes sparkling more than usual.
"She's... pregnant?"
"Uh, yeah. Why?"
"Nothing at all. Congratulations, sir."
"Uh, th-thanks?"
"This way. Please, come."
She beamed like it was her own news, skipping lightly ahead. I followed her buoyant steps to Cheong-un-dang, where the face-washing ceremony was in full, chaotic swing.
"Ahahaha! Faster! Can't you crawl any quicker!"
"Eek, hee hee hing!"
"Hey! You gonna be slower than that guy?!"
In the courtyard before Cheong-un-dang, a race was underway. New scholars crawled on all fours like beasts, seniors riding their backs, whipping asses with switches.
Grooo! This is it! The face-washing ceremony!
Even witnessing this human rights violation, I couldn't help but admire it. The madness wasn't just outside. Inside the main hall, amid the drinking party, the abuse raged on.
"Hey! You gonna let that paper flap around like that?!"
"I-It tickles, guh heh heh...!"
"Oh my! Sir, you're so naughty!"
A senior drawing on a stripped scholar's chest, gisaengs giggling.
"Kuhahat! You're a real drunkard!"
"S-Sorry, hic!"
"Come on! Let's see if you can match me now!"
Seniors challenging a scholar to a drinking contest.
"Hey, pissed off? That I'm younger and talking casual pisses you off?"
"N-No, senior."
"It does. Admit it. Nah, just call me 'hey.' I'm just a punch away for you, right?"
Jeong Hyeon-beom getting lip from a middle-school-aged kid my age. King Sejong would've clenched his fist and called the royal guard.
Yes. This is it.
Imagining rolling with those newbies, ratting out seniors, getting schooled till they bawled—I headed to Cheong-un-gak.
"Kuhahaha! Uh, hm?"
A senior drinking in Cheong-un-dang spotted me. He pointed at me approaching with Cheong-yeon and bellowed.
"Hey! New face means new scholar. Why walk on two legs?! Crawl over on all fours and introduce yourself!"
"Yes, senior!"
"Whoa, mama!"
I dropped too eagerly; Cheong-yeon jumped. Leaving her stepping back, I bear-crawled—core workout style—to the hall.
Arriving at the veranda, I shouted my intro.
"Pleased to meet you! I'm Kim Si-jin of the Pyeongan Kim Ga, from Jeongeup! This Kim Si-jin of the Pyeongan Kim Ga will bow extravagantly!"
Suddenly, silence blanketed everything. Sneering seniors' laughs, gisaengs' coos, scholars' groans—all gone.
"Wh-Why's everyone...?"
Still on all fours, I looked up and around.
"......"
"......"
"......"
Seniors, gisaengs, scholars—all staring dumbfounded.
Only Cheong-yeon stayed composed.
"G-Get up! H-How can you take a joke seriously!"
The senior who'd ordered me to crawl bolted up. He rushed over barefoot from the yard; others waved frantically in panic.
"Wh-Who is it? Captain Kim Si-jin!"
"You don't need to do this! Come on, grab a drink!"
"Ha, ha ha! B-Bold one, aren't you!"
Seniors who'd leered at scholars now played nice for me. It reminded me of that morning: a senior posing as manager, fleeing at my name.