The Gisaeng’s Repayment
There are countless gibang in Pyeongyang. And when multiple establishments of the same trade exist, competition is an inevitable fate. The gibang where Han Sujin once stayed, Hyeonhwaru, promoted a distinctly Joseon-style aesthetic to compete with the others. Splendid, yet subtle. A beauty that reveals its true worth upon close inspection, yet never descends into vulgarity. And since this is, in fact, Joseon, Hyeonhwaru was leveraging the universal aesthetic of this society as its own unique strength.
If one were to ask if that wasn't just a high standard rather than a strategy for differentiation... the answer would be yes. Hyeonhwaru was the highest-class gibang in all of Pyeongyang. And Han Sujin was the most renowned ginam—a male entertainer—within those very walls.
“Seonwol.” The madam’s eyes sparkled the moment she saw Han Sujin. “What brings you here? Have you returned to Ryugyeong?”
“That is not the case; I am merely stopping by for a moment.” Han Sujin offered a gentle bow to the madam. “I apologize for the sudden request, but might I borrow a room and an instrument for tonight?”
A gisaeng is, after all, someone who works under contract. Furthermore, Han Sujin was no longer affiliated with this house. “If you are the one asking, would I not lend you the entire building? Please, use any empty room you desire.”
Despite this, the madam’s attitude toward Han Sujin was nothing short of reverent. “Thank you, Madam.”
He led the way as if it were his own home. “My lords, please follow me.”
As they entered, O Jayeon found her eyes wandering, captivated by the elegance of the gibang. ‘Good heavens... how can such a luxurious space exist...?’
Take the lanterns, for instance. It would be simple to make them extravagant and flashy; one would just need to plaster them with gold, silver, and jade. But that is a vulgar beauty. It is not the Joseon style. In this gibang, the lanterns were wrapped in paper to soften the glow. To the uninitiated, it looked merely modest and elegant. But what if that paper was unhwaji—a cloud-white paper crafted by a master artisan, sheet by painstaking sheet? And what if that paper were replaced every single day before receiving guests? It would be far less extravagant to just spend the money once to make them out of gold and silver.
Yet, at a glance, it appeared as nothing more than a lantern flickering behind elegant, understated paper. That was the nature of Joseon-style luxury. It was a decadence invisible to the ignorant, but one that would make the knowledgeable gasp in shock. And O Jayeon and Baek Yujon were the types who could not help but recognize it.
O Jayeon’s heart was pounding. ‘To think that I, a country bumpkin from Naju, would see the legendary Pyeongyang gibang with my own eyes.’
Once they entered the room, Han Sujin’s instrument was already prepared. “You were still here, my old friend.”
It was a long instrument with strings stretched across its body. A geum. Specifically, a gayageum, famous for its clear and delicate sound. Servants quietly brought in food and wine. They moved as silently as shadows, and the table set before them was luxurious beyond measure.
Han Sujin placed his fingers upon the strings. “It has been a long time, so I am not sure if I can play well. Do you have any poems you favor, my lords?”
“I, I do not know,” O Jayeon replied instinctively, feeling a wave of shame immediately after. Even if she was a military officer, she was still a scholar. She should have had a favorite poem, and in truth, she did. She loved heroic, spirited verses. But she feared that if she spoke, she would only embarrass herself. Without realizing it, O Jayeon had become that intimidated. ‘Ah, I see. This is Han Sujin’s space.’
Unless a drunken brawler were to suddenly appear, there was no role for O Jayeon to play here. This was Han Sujin’s stage. The place where he shone the brightest.
“How about Bai Juyi’s Song of the Pipa?”
“I, I think that would be good.” O Jayeon nodded. ‘Damn it all...’
She felt like a naive maiden who had never seen a man in her life. Which, in fact, she was. A maiden.
Han Sujin’s fingers touched the strings, stroking them softly, and he began to sing. “At the Xunyang River, I bid farewell to a guest—”
Quietly at first. Softly. But then, gradually, with exquisite grace. ‘...How beautiful.’
Ah, beautiful. Beautiful. How could a mere man be this beautiful? O Jayeon suddenly felt a sense of dread toward Han Sujin. She feared him because he was so beautiful that she felt she might fall for him entirely. If she kept listening to that song, sung in a voice like jade, she felt her soul would be stolen away. And even after it was stolen, she felt she would just giggle and rejoice that he had taken it.
O Jayeon turned her head. A petty act of defiance. ‘Perhaps Sister Baek is doing better?’
In O Jayeon’s eyes, Baek Yujon had always exuded an air of being accustomed to men. Hadn't she felt a strange sense of hostility at first because Baek Yujon had approached Han Sujin so freely? Surely, someone like her would be calm even now. She would be sipping her wine with ease, enjoying the atmosphere.
However, contrary to O Jayeon’s expectations and hopes...
“...”
Baek Yujon, sitting beside her, was actually even more intimidated than O Jayeon.
“...”
And she was flushed a deep red. Her cheeks, her ears, and even the two horns protruding from her forehead—the mark of her dual-horned race—were all glowing. Like beautifully dyed balsam flowers, rosy and shy. She was afraid, yet drawn to him, and she feared that very attraction. She was exactly the same as O Jayeon.
‘What is this, Commander Baek Yujon? You acted as if you knew everything, but you were a novice all along?’
She felt a little pathetic. But she could understand. What woman wouldn't put on a slight front in front of such a beautiful man?
“—Suddenly, the sound of a pipa is heard over the water; the host forgets to return, and the guest does not depart—”
The song ceased, and the sound of the gayageum faded away. “My lords, why do you not partake in the wine and food?”
“...”
“...”
“My lords.” He spoke in a soft, melodic voice with a faint smile. “Are you afraid that I might have poisoned the wine?”
He was teasing them. He knew exactly why they were acting this way, and he was teasing them for it. And even knowing that, they had no choice but to be teased.
“It is quite alright, Lord Jayeon, Lord Yujon. Do not be so afraid; please, relax your bodies.” Softly. Affectionately. As if coaxing them. “You are not the type of people to crumble after receiving a single night of service from a gisaeng, are you?”
“...”
O Jayeon felt a surge of stubborn pride and lifted her cup. She didn't speak. She feared that if her voice rang out, it would shatter the atmosphere held together by the brilliant sound of the gayageum. She lifted the cup and tilted it back. A floral fragrance spread through her mouth. It suited him. That man.
Beside her, Baek Yujon also hesitated before tilting her cup as well. The sound of the gayageum swelled once more. The song continued.
“I ask in a low voice who is playing, seeking the sound; the pipa stops, and she hesitates to answer—”
It was beautiful and clear, enough to steal one’s soul. Once she began to drink, her paralyzed body began to loosen. ‘To hell with it, when will a day like this come again?’
O Jayeon picked up her chopsticks. Everything she put in her mouth tasted divine, and the wine remained fragrant no matter how much she poured. If she had to pay for this, how much would it cost? The mere thought made her coin purse feel impoverished. Would a month’s salary be enough? Two months? Three? It was exactly as Han Sujin had said when he brought them here. As a return for helping him tonight, this night’s feast was worth more than the price.
Watching the two begin to partake in the food and wine, Han Sujin smiled with his eyes. ‘You wicked, enchanting man.’
The Song of the Pipa was a seven-character poem with seven characters per line, totaling 88 lines. After about twenty minutes passed, the song finally came to an end.
“—The Jiangzhou Sima’s blue robe was soaked through.”
He caught his breath for a moment and smiled at them. “How was it? I have displayed a lowly talent of a lowly person.”
“...It was magnificent.” O Jayeon nodded, feeling a sense of frustration. How could he be so good that there wasn't a single thing to criticize?
“...What is it that you truly want?”
“Lord Yujon?”
“Are you trying to mock me!?” Baek Yujon stood up, bursting with anger. “Are you trying to seduce me? What on earth do you want from me!”
“Sister Baek!”
“Let go!” Even as O Jayeon tried to stop her, Baek Yujon strode forward, grabbed Han Sujin by the collar, and lifted him up. “Are you telling me to take you to my bed right now!? Would that satisfy you? Tell me, would you be satisfied if I played with your lewd body!!”
Even while being grabbed by the collar, Han Sujin’s expression remained calm. “This lowly one only wishes that you would not fear this lowly person, my lord.”
“I am not afraid of you!”
“Commander,” he said, carefully and softly. “Has someone close to you perhaps ruined their life, bewitched by a gisaeng?”
Baek Yujon’s body trembled as if she had been stabbed by a blade. Or perhaps, as if Han Sujin had gripped a knife that had been lodged deep within her long ago.
“There is no... such thing. There is no such thing.”
“It is alright, my lord. Are we not between you and me?”
“I told you there is no such thing...!”
“Is it someone you cannot bring yourself to speak of with your own lips?” Han Sujin’s hand touched Baek Yujon’s lips. “My lord.”
Because his fingers had been touching the gayageum strings, she could feel the scent of pine resin. Pine scent is meant to clear the mind. Yet, why did it feel so greedy coming from this man?
“You have suffered much in your heart until now.”
“...I.” Baek Yujon was slender but tall. Since she was young, she had been told she had the bearing of a general. Her skin was fair, but her eyes were fierce, and combined with the strength, stamina, and muscle power unique to her dual-horned race, she was a warrior who could beat a wild boar to death with her bare hands.
“You have truly suffered much.”
Such a Baek Yujon slid down. Her legs had lost their strength. “My lord.”
Han Sujin caught Baek Yujon as she began to collapse. He was the one who had broken her, and he was the one who caught her. “Please, do not fear this lowly man.”