Bazaar Beauties and Blasphemous Birds
This was the charm of transmigration stories. To be honest. Objectively speaking. For real. If I were truly cold-hearted about it. By Joseon standards, Eori was practically ugly.
A height taller than most men. Dark brown skin from birth. Huge, round eyes. A sharp, prominent nose. Each feature brimmed with her unique allure, but people in the Joseon era saw it the opposite way. That's why I'd let my guard down.
"Signorina! Over here, yes? I, no hurt you?"
"Y-yes?"
"Come on! Come on! Here!"
I'd figured no flies would buzz around Eori.
"I, Lorenzo! Signorina. You from Tang Dynasty?"
A blond, blue-eyed white guy approached with clumsy Joseon speech. Eori couldn't even respond and just looked at me with a teary, pleading face.
"M-master?"
"Oh! You signorina's fratello minore? Signorina's, uh, uh, little brother? Younger brother! Nice to meet!"
Fuck. Who're you calling brother-in-law?
I could understand mistaking me for Eori's little brother. She towered over me by a full head. But acting like he was married to her? No way in hell.
"Uh. Nice to meet you too. You fucking prick."
"Oh! You speak English, uh uh uh?!"
"Master?!"
"Sir! You mustn't do that!"
I'd only half-drawn my knife from my bosom, but the white guy's flushed face went pale. Eori and Takji panicked and tried to stop me. But I ignored them, gripping the hilt as I explained. Slowly, so even an idiot could get it.
"This woman. Mine. Got it?"
"Y-yes. Capisco. Questa signorina. La tua fidanzata."
"What? Say that again."
"Th-this bitch. Y-your woman."
"Good. Now fuck off. Unless you want a hole in your neck."
"Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace!"
If you're in Joseon, speak Joseon. He bolted, babbling his native tongue. I watched him scamper away and slid my knife back into my bosom.
"These bastards. They know Eori's pretty."
"No, sir!"
Eori scolded me as I grumbled in annoyance.
"What if you're dragged off for that! You can't just do that!"
"No, but I couldn't just let him go either. Can't have him touching what's mine."
"Aaaah! Don't say it like that! It's embarrassing!"
She seemed thrilled that I'd called her mine. Eori smiled shyly, her face flushed bright red.
"......"
Takji, naturally, stared at us like he'd eaten shit.
"Hey. Eori."
I ruffled Takji's hair to mess with him and held up my left hand to Eori. The ring we'd gotten engraved together gleamed on my ring finger.
"If another big-nose comes sniffing around like that, flash this."
"Y-yes? How could I?"
"A ring on the left ring finger means you're already married—or have a man you're marrying."
"Oh my......!"
Eori covered her flushed face with both hands, mortified.
"Urk."
Takji dry-heaved, unable to hold it in.
"Don't wanna see? Then don't look, punk."
This time I lightly punched his head. Then we surveyed the market we'd wander today.
"Hey there! Buy this!"
"#$%^&*^%$!!"
"Hehe! Told ya I ain't buying!"
It was a chaotic babel of tongues. Europeans, Middle Easterners from the deserts, Chinese from Ming—all sorts of merchants hawking their wares.
"......!"
Yeah. This was it. The true charm of transmigration.
A scene utterly unlike the Joseon in my common sense unfolded right before my eyes. I couldn't hide my excitement, lips curling up.
"Hey! Señorita!"
"Fucking dog. Wanna die?"
...in a snarl.
"Sir! You can't just draw your sword like that!"
"Please stop! My lifespan's dropping just watching!"
After swatting away a few flies, I dragged the nagging Eori and Takji into the market's heart.
True to merchants from every corner of the world, they sold things rare in Joseon. Potent perfumes wafting heady scents. Sparkling glass trinkets. Spicy aromatics.
"Fuck you! Fuck you!"
Or parrots spewing curses right from the start?
"Huh? What's this?"
I halted, peering into the shop. Cages big and small housed birds everywhere—a bird specialty store.
"Welcomeee!"
The shopkeeper emerged, greeting us a bit too eagerly. His thick mustache twitched over eyes gleaming like fresh coins.
"Wow! Sir! What kind of bird is that?"
"Woooow......!"
But Eori and Takji were already hooked, eyes wide with wonder. I left them to gawk and handled the owner.
"Sir! Here, parrot! Parrot! Look! Here! Hop! Come! Hop! Here!"
Peacocks seemed to be the shop's star attraction. Beyond the wire mesh he pointed to, several strutted about.
"Fuck you!"
But I'd seen plenty of peacocks even in the modern world. What caught my eye was the parrot up front, unleashing profanity.
"Hehe. Hi? What's your name?"
"Fuck you!"
"That's your name?"
"No! You!"
"?!"
Damn smart bird. It could hold a conversation.
"Aish. Aish. Let me talk to it."
Eori, hurt by the cursing parrot, stepped aside teary-eyed. Takji approached, glaring through the bars and threatening it.
"You wanna die, you lowly beast? How dare you spew filth at my lady? Apologize now, or I'll boil you alive."
"......"
"Hmph! Scared now?"
Takji snorted at the silent parrot. But that hush was just the calm before the storm.
"Your dick's one chon!"
"Wh-what?! You saw it?! You saw?!"
For reference, one chon is about 3 cm. Insulted about his size, Takji flushed beet red in rage.
"Kukukuku! Kukukukuku!"
The parrot cackled in a bizarre trill—mocking laughter, no doubt.
"Buy? Buy?"
It eyed me staring and assumed I wanted to buy.
The owner fetched the cage with that odd parrot and quoted a price.
"This one's pricey! Five hundred nyang!"
"See you next time."
"F-four hundred nyang!"
"Gonna browse more."
"F-three hundred nyang! You bandits!"
The price dropped every time I turned to leave, but even 300 nyang wasn't chump change—not "bandit" cheap. That was a decent official's monthly salary.
"Eori. Want it?"
"Mm, no thank you."
We had the cash, so I asked anyway. Eori shook her head but eyed the parrot slyly.
"Something that size—you'd need two to fill your belly."
"Eat it?!"
"Kwaaak! Kwaaaak!"
Her brutal math shocked not just me but the parrot too. It flapped wildly, screeching from its cage.
"L-let's look elsewhere."
A conversing parrot was novel, but not 300 nyang novel. I herded Eori and Takji out.
We wandered the market, pausing at a bookstore. Curious if there'd be plagiarism fodder.
"Ni hao! Come in! Come!"
The owner seemed Chinese, with a catfish mustache. He slapped my shoulder chummily, blocking my path.
"Here! Lotsa books! Yo! See! Yo!"
"Uh, yeah."
"Looking for something? Yes, yo?"
Something specific...
"Got any novels?"
"Ah! Yes! Yo! Novels! Here! Here! Fun ones! Lots! Yo!"
Spotting a customer, he dropped the shoulder grab and fetched books himself.
"Here! This! Fun! Yo!"
He rummaged inside and brought a few. I took one, flipping through.
"Ugh. Classical Chinese."
"Classical Chinese?"
"Yeah."
The contents were pure hanja. I'd learned basics at the village school, but dense hanja books were tough. And all his picks were hanja.
"Any in Hangul? Light, easy reads."
"Hmm......"
Rejected, he frowned appraisingly—not annoyed, more calculating.
"Hmmm."
Then his lips quirked up, nodding.
"Got it! Yo! This way! Come! Yo! This way!"
"F-follow you?"
"Yes! Customer! Full! Here! Here! Yo!"
A bit suspicious calling only me, but I left Eori and Takji outside and followed inside.
He tossed the rejects on a shelf and pulled volumes from the top.
Handed them over with a sly grin.
"How's this! Yo!"
I checked to see what. Titles in Hangul this time. One Thousand and One Nights? Kama Sutra? Neighbor's Cherry Tastes Sweeter... Huh?
I knew it yet didn't. Flipping pages to uncover the truth.
"!"
"Heh heh. Good, yo?"
This scoundrel! Erotic smut in Confucian Joseon? Unforgivable!
I couldn't let it slide!
"I'll take 'em all."
"One! Seventy nyang! Three! Two hundred! I discount ten nyang!"
What?! Why so pricey?! Hand-copied manuscripts, not printed—brushed by hand. Gah, 70 nyang each...! N-not like I can't afford...
"But! This one! Ten nyang!"
The owner whipped out a thin one eagerly. Hanja, half the thickness of others! Modern equivalent: 100,000 won per smut story!
"What've you got?"
Buying lust surged.
"Sorry. Kept you waiting?"
"Sir, what books took so long?"
"Uh, uh? Just, stuff to learn from."
"Is that so? Mind if I see?"
"Uh, uh, th-that's kinda......!"
"Sigh, sir."
"Wh-what? What is it?"
"Moderation, please. You'll wear your bones out later."
"Shut up, punk! Kid with no blood in your head!"