The Grand Swindle
"Uuurgh…!"
The old man looked as if the life was being choked right out of him, and the lady of the house scrambled in panic. Seo-ryeong, meanwhile, didn't so much as blink.
"What did I tell you? Never let anyone with a big mole into this house. Your husband had a black mole buried deep in his thigh, didn't he? And that mole cut off the family line and sent him to his grave. Even now, if you dig up his tomb and teach his spirit a proper lesson—"
At the sight of this lout insulting the dead, the lady's eyes flared for an instant.
"You shameless fraud! There was no such mole on my lady's thigh! Now that I look at you properly, you're nothing but a con artist! Elder, let me give this wretched creature the thrashing she deserves—"
"Ahahaha. Hey! And how exactly would you know that?"
Caught.
"See? I told you he's not your son."
She had walked straight into Seo-ryeong's trap, perfectly and completely.
"You… you dare…!"
The old man's face flushed red and purple, trembling with rage.
"Elder, Elder! I have sinned! I've committed a crime worthy of death!"
"A crime worthy of death? Fine then, I'll grant your wish and kill you myself! Watching you raise that seed of yours like it was some precious treasure—how entertaining that must have been! You there! Seize this man and lock him up at once!"
Crash and clatter!
At the furious old man's shout, the servants hauled the lady of the house away.
In the blink of an eye the room had erupted into utter chaos, and the old man collapsed in despair.
"Oh no, oh no, Father… Grandfather! Oh, honored ancestors!!!"
The wretch had one thing going for him: a genius for making money and an even greater genius for multiplying it. Though his ancestors had been lowborn for generations, they had always held money firmly in their grasp.
So he had purchased the genealogy of a fallen noble house and quietly inserted himself into it.
Even in tearing poverty, a noble was still a noble—and plenty of people in official posts happened to recognize the faces of that family's members.
"And so, even when I wanted to study, even when I longed to enter government service, how hard I bit down and endured it all these years! For my son! I hoped my child, at least, would soar free! Aaagh! But that boy—!"
"He was dim-witted from the start, wasn't he? Unlike you. Even as a grown man he kept haunting the gisaeng houses and couldn't keep his feet away from the gambling tables. Truly… tsk!"
"You've said it exactly. Damn it all."
The dignified old gentleman who had stood before Seo-ryeong was gone without a trace.
At some point he had set aside his noble pretense, reverted to the wretch he truly was, and now let out his grievances freely.
With a mischievous smile, Seo-ryeong tossed a compliment his way as if doling out charity.
"Well, you do have one blessing."
"The blessing of money, of course! That goes without saying!"
"No. The blessing of children."
What on earth was this now? At Seo-ryeong's hopeful words, the old man forgot all decorum and scooted toward her on his knees.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
At some point he had started speaking to her in the utmost deference.
"Your daughter-in-law. That's the greatest blessing you possess."
"Having a daughter-in-law doesn't mean the family line continues, does it…?"
"Who cares about the line? Even without blood, people can become family. Your daughter-in-law was born with wonderful luck in children—and in people, too."
From among the jewel chests, an expensive-looking fan appeared. Seo-ryeong snatched it up, snapped it open with a flick, and fanned herself with it.
"The virtues of this world follow whoever's fate draws them. Your daughter-in-law belongs to you, so her luck in children becomes yours in the end."
At Seo-ryeong's solemn expression, the old man swallowed hard.
"Even while enduring every manner of scolding and cold treatment, your daughter-in-law has never once taken her frustrations out on the servants, has she?"
"That's right. The girl never stood up for herself. Even when that son of mine—no, no. Not 'son.' Even when that wretched brat beat her down, she treated the servants like a fool, kindly. She never so much as raised a hand to the simpletons, I tell you."
"Mm, yes…."
It made sense—Seo-ryeong had picked fights with her out of nowhere, dressed in rags, and the woman had borne it all.
Even when she poked and prodded at exactly why the woman was being mistreated, she hadn't gotten angry.
How far had they driven such a gentle, gentle woman toward the cliff's edge? She must have prostrated herself countless times—from the way her legs wobbled with every step, one could roughly guess.
Seo-ryeong studied the old man with a long, level gaze.
"Am I right? She's accepted whatever was done to her. And the method I'm about to teach you only works if your daughter-in-law keeps bearing it, quietly, patiently…."
Seo-ryeong hid her mouth behind the fan, affecting the air of a shared secret.
Just as she had done with the lady of the house, she tossed out the bait.
"A fool so devoted she'd bathe in a freezing stream in the dead of winter, or perform Three Thousand Prostrations under the blazing summer sun, and never complain! There's nothing she can't do."
And the old man took the bait.
What the servants showed the lady wasn't mere loyalty. It was a protective instinct for an abused member of the family.
Now he finally understood why they had glared at Seo-ryeong when she approached the lady—ready to tear her apart with eyes full of fury.
Doom, doom, doom, doom—
A lively drumbeat began to rise beneath the scene.
"Ahh…."
It was time to work the con.
Fweeeee—
To the bright trill of a flute, Seo-ryeong drew close to the old man.
"Then your son—no, strictly speaking, he's not your son anymore. That boy is nothing but a stumbling block in your life, so cast him off quickly. Make your daughter-in-law a widow."
"A widow? Then—"
"Yes. That boy's greed for money pierces the very heavens! Imagine how vicious his temperament must be. A man who acts like a brute even toward his own wife—do you think he'll recognize his father?"
"Even so, how could I—"
"You think if you tell him now, 'You are no son of mine,' he'll step aside meekly? He's the kind who'd shove a helpless old father off a cliff, that boy!"
Scr-r-rape! Tak!
The rasp of the fish-drum and the clatter of the clappers rang merrily. Hee-ya—! The singer's voice joined in.
At the same moment, the fan in Seo-ryeong's hand folded shut with a snap. She leveled the closed fan at him like a dagger.
"And then, after a proper interval, take in an adopted son. 'How could I leave my widowed daughter-in-law all alone?' you'll say. You needed a man worthy of this great fortune—someone who could build it up properly and bring benefit to the village."
"B-but as a matter of human decency, how could…"
The old man hesitated at Seo-ryeong's words, and she pressed the attack with full force.
A taepyeongso shrieked through the air, relentless as a driving assault.
"Ah, if it worries you, simply move to another village. Get far away from anyone who knows your son."
It was like a play performed by a roaming troupe straight out of the marketplace.
"The people of this village know your faces, father and son—but did anyone from other villages know you?"
Seo-ryeong smiled, one eyebrow arched upward.
"Those villagers won't know whether the boy you took in is adopted or not. Keep your household's mouths shut, and that adopted son becomes your son, plain and simple."
An isolated village. It had been the perfect hiding place for a lowborn wretch who'd bought a genealogy—and the perfect place to build a new family.
"And your household dotes on your daughter-in-law. Where would they go loosening their tongues? That adopted son will be your true-born child."
The old man's eyes flashed.
"And that adopted son is no ordinary fellow. Nothing like the wretched brat you raised—give it time, and he'll solve everything for you."
"If he's no ordinary fellow, then…"
Hee-ya, hee-ya, hee-ya, hee-ya! The singer bobbed and hollered his refrains, the music swelling to spur on Seo-ryeong's swindle.
The grand performance of fraud had begun in earnest.
"He has ten times—no, a hundredfold—the luck with money that you do! His fortune swells without pause, and the grandson your daughter-in-law bears that man—!"
CLANG—! Even the clash of the gong joined in.
"He's the hero who will found this nation."
Seo-ryeong poured out the con without a hitch, as if singing a song.
"At eleven years of age, he passes the special examination with high honors! At thirteen, he takes first place in the royal civil examination itself!"
Hee-ya, hee-ya, hee-ya, hee-ya!
The singer surged forward with his singing, pressing the rhythm on. Each time the geomungo's strings were plucked, an air of happiness burst forth—the happiness the old man dreamed of. The tempo quickened and quickened.
"Soaring far above the Three Bonds and Five Virtues, he steadies the foundations of the state and looks after the people. And the heavens themselves drop the post of Royal Archivist right into his lap!"
Clang! Clang! Clang! The gong rang out without rest.
"In his late teens he becomes a royal lecturer, expounding upon the classics! Before he's even thirty, he rises to Inspector-General of the realm!"
Broooooh—. A great horn sounded, like the music of a festival celebrating a grandson's ascent to the highest offices.
Scritch, scritch.
A pen moved across the page, recording impressions of the performance so far, and the hand holding it brimmed with delight.
"Mm… Gimyodam."
The man who murmured the work's title again, savoring it like a fine wine, was the supreme critic who set the standard for every piece of work in South Korea.
Seonwoo Seon-uk.
"It was true at the final showcase, too, but watching it like this… how should I put it. It's even more…"
Seonwoo Seon-uk's five senses sharpened to a fine edge as he dissected the work.
"…good."
"Ahh… how wonderful…."
At some point, the old man was dreaming. The hope that followed on the heels of despair at a broken family line was all the sweeter for it.
It was enough to paralyze his reason entirely.
"Why, with things like this, how could the line possibly end? Everyone will sing your grandson's praises. You will truly become a nobleman."
"W-will it really be so…?"
"What kind of question is that? By then, this household's prestige will reach the heavens."
"Who would ever know you were once a lowborn wretch? You'll be the grandfather of a prodigy the likes of which the world has never seen—the father of a Chief State Councillor."
Seo-ryeong drew a talisman from her robes and held it up.
"Your line will continue like this, forever. And the past you wished to hide, the past that shamed you—like this…"
She murmured a brief incantation, and a small flame kindled of its own accord upon the talisman.
"…will turn to ash, and be gone."
In an instant, Seo-ryeong burned the talisman, then blew the ash remaining on her palm away in a single breath—fwah——toward the old man.