I Came Here to Save You
I'm here to save your sorry ass. Hui-un's holed up in some other gisaeng house, and that bastard Baek Do-yun's at Cheong-un-gak. I got this info the friendly way.
"How many fingers you got? Ten? That's too many, right? We can do without one."
"I-it's true! He's really at Cheong-un-gak!"
"Nah. Let's just chop one off and get started. Put your hand out."
"Aaaagh! It's true! He's really at Cheong-un-gak, you son of a bitch!"
Something like that. "Alright, alright. Let's get going."
The old saying goes that men bond after a good scrap. I grabbed one of them by the hand and headed for Cheong-un-gak. And it wasn't just me holding hands. After getting a taste of my fists, they'd apparently warmed up to each other too—they were linked hand-in-hand in a chain, front and back.
"Grip tight. The second you let go, your hand flies off."
Obviously, I'd made them do it.
"Ooh, so this is what it looks like."
The gisaeng house district we entered following the men outshone the midday streets in splendor. Lanterns hung everywhere, softly dyeing the night sky, while young men and women strolled arm-in-arm. Laughter like tinkling bells spilled endlessly from behind the walls.
"Eek! What a scare!"
"Wh-what the hell...?"
"What kind of spectacle is this?"
Four grown men marching hand-in-hand, trailed by one fancy young lord. Passersby halted in their tracks to gawk.
"Yeah, nothing to see here. Keep walking."
I flashed them a grin—like it was no big deal—and kept following the men.
"Here we are, sir."
The grand gate where they stopped bore a sign reading Cheong-un-gak. Beyond it, coquettish laughter and the strains of music poured out without cease.
"Yeah? So Baek Do-yun's really in there?"
"Yes, sir. Sh-shall we go in?"
"Hold up."
"Y-yes?"
I let go of the hand I'd been holding till now. His right was fine, but the left probably had a broken finger.
"Your finger. Go see a doctor and get it treated. Bill Baek Do-yun for it."
"R-really...?"
"Don't wanna? Fine, don't."
"N-no, sir! Thank you! Truly, thank you!"
Must've hurt like hell. He bolted like he was fleeing for his life.
"......"
"......"
"......"
The remaining men stared blankly at their fleeing comrade's back. They looked jealous.
"What? Want me to break your fingers too?"
"N-no, sir!"
"Hey! Anybody there?!"
The men frantically denied it and yelled for someone to open the gate. Moments later, it creaked open, and a man peeked out.
"Huh? Gwang-chili, bro?"
He recognized the face right away, smirking slyly. "Did you follow Baek Do-yun's orders?"
"Uh, w-well, you see..."
"Of course. Look who brought me."
While Gwang-chili hemmed and hawed, I strode through the gate.
"Hey, who's this guy?"
"The one Baek Do-yun told you to bring."
"Who would that...?"
Rather than say it myself, I nodded toward the clueless men. Quick as a bartender should be, he caught on.
"Oh! The mill guy?"
"No! Chaekho Dongja! Kim Si-jin!"
"S-sorry, sir!"
"Open the damn gate! Let me see Baek Do-yun's face!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
For needling my nerves with that nonsense, he opened it quick enough.
The gisaeng house I stepped into for the first time brimmed with bright lights and the sweet scent of powder. Silhouettes of gisaengs flickered beyond the paper screens, subtly drawing the eye.
"!"
It was too stimulating for a gisaeng house newbie like me. My vision swam, and I grimaced without thinking.
"S-sir."
The gatekeeper approached cautiously. "Forgive us, but at Cheong-un-gak, we strictly prohibit weapons for guests—except long swords, which you must leave with me."
"Oh yeah? First time here, didn't know. So where do I hand over my blades?"
"To me, sir."
"Nah, got a box or something?"
"Why...?"
"Just bring one."
He tilted his head, puzzled, but fetched a small chest anyway.
"Thanks. Hold on."
I pulled two changpo swords from my bosom, sheaths and all, and placed them inside.
"Thank you, sir."
"Wait—no, not done yet."
I stopped him as he turned to leave and unpacked the rest.
One long changpo sword on my back. Three throwing stars on my left wrist, one dagger on my right. One dagger each at my waist—front, back, left, right. Two daggers on my left ankle, one on my right.
"......!"
With every blade I drew, the men's faces drained of color.
"Yeah, think that's all."
They'd eyed me so suspiciously I'd packed every knife I owned, but hadn't needed a one. A bit disappointing, but maybe for the best.
"Where's Baek Do-yun?"
"I-I'll show you!"
Gwang-chili hurried over, polite as could be. But after that earlier taste, I was wary.
"You gonna try stabbing me in the back again?"
"N-no, sir! After what happened, how could I? I swear on my mother!"
"For real? She alive and all?"
"Y-yes, she is!"
"Fine. Lead on."
"Y-yes, sir!"
I followed Gwang-chili to the main building. But he didn't head straight there—instead, past a side gate in the wall to an isolated annex.
I stayed vigilant for a backstab, but nothing happened till we arrived.
"Pardon the intrusion."
Gwang-chili approached the annex, where gayageum strings and girlish giggles drifted out. "Young master. It's me. G-Gwang-chili."
"Oh? Yeah?"
The reply came quick. Baek Do-yun's voice, naturally.
"How'd the errand go?"
"Th-that is...!"
"Don't tell me. You killed him?"
His voice carried a hint of delight. This punk not even twenty yet, thrilled at the thought of blood on his hands. Absurd. As I approached the annex, I called out.
"Who said anything about killing?"
"Who is it?"
"Who else? The guy you sent to die."
"S-sir...!"
I brushed past Gwang-chili, who tried to block me hesitantly, and entered. Slipped off my shoes, stepped onto the floor, slid open the door.
There sat Do-yun, surrounded by delicacies, with a gisaeng old enough to be his sister beside him, listening to gayageum music.
"Y-you...!"
"Young master. Enjoying the good stuff, huh?"
Do-yun paled at the sight of me, eyes trembling. The gisaeng beside him sensed the mood and froze. The musician stopped plucking, holding her breath.
"Sorry to barge in. Don't mind me—carry on. Sorry. Really sorry."
I apologized profusely to everyone but Do-yun and entered.
"Young master. Mind if I join?"
I wouldn't have come if I waited for an invite. Sat across from him, eyed the table. Spring veggies everywhere, beef, chicken dishes, steamed fish.
"Think you can eat all this alone? Let me help."
No time for chopsticks. Grabbed food with my hands.
"Mmm. Tasty. What's this called?"
"C-carp... steamed, sir."
Steamed carp. Eori would love it. Besides that, I scarfed bulgogi and veggies. The annex hung in awkward silence the whole time.
Slurp! Slurp! Licking sauce off my fingers, I eyed Do-yun—his teeth chattering. Time for the truth.
"You sent guys after me, right?"
"Th-that was...!"
"Not getting it? Right now?"
His stiff neck pissed me off. I stood, stepped right onto the table.
"Kyaa!"
The young-looking gisaeng shrieked. "Oops, sorry. Scared you? My bad."
Too far. Apologized quick, hopped down, sat across again. "You sent guys after me. So when you see me—alive and well—what do you say?"
"I-I didn't mean to kill! J-just to rough you up...!"
"No excuses. What do you say to me? Now?"
"Sp-spare...!"
"What? Spare? Begging for mercy? Ha! Fuck!"
Too ridiculous—I burst out laughing. Giggling, I grabbed more food, licked my fingers clean. Cleared the air. "I'm here to save your ass. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't be here. I'd hole up and file a petition. 'Some rich Baek punk sent killers after me.'"
"I didn't mean to k-kill...!"
"You have no idea how fucked you are. You sent men after a Gapsa—a servant the king favors, the crown prince cherishes."
Sending assassins at an active Gapsa was bad enough. But I'm one of Joseon's rare modern souls. Useless lit major or not, a scarce resource. If the crown prince heard some yokel tried to off me? That family'd vanish.
"I'll let this slide once."
I didn't want the hassle. Worst injury was a broken finger anyway. But no free pass. "But. If you touch me. My people. Anyone I've ever talked to. It won't end with words. Got it?"
"Y-yes...!"
"You say you get it. Break this, and I start at your ankles and work up."
"Ugh... sob...!"
"Hey, hey. Why the tears? Makes me look like the bad guy. Don't cry."
Do-yun, who'd been shaking, suddenly burst into sobs. Flustered, I asked the gisaeng beside him. "Uh, sorry, could you wipe his tears?"
"Y-yes...! Y-young m-master, kyaa!"
Another scream—I thought I'd messed up. But she fled not from me, but Do-yun.
"Sob... ugh... hngh...!"
Face beet-red, head down. Then I remembered yesterday: him fleeing on horseback, liquid dripping from the saddle.
"Uh. Hey. I'm out. No need to see me off. Have fun drinking. Bye."
I bolted up and fled the annex like my life depended on it.