The Auspicious Aura
"So, Master Han—what office do you hold these days?"
"I serve as an attendant at Gyeongdeok Palace, Your Grace."
"Ah."
At Han Myeong-hoe's reply, the genial light on Suyang's face dimmed noticeably.
"A palace keeper, is it…… If you studied under the same tutor as Vice Councillor Gwon here, you must be pushing forty by now—the age when a man should be beyond doubt. And yet, a *palace keeper*!"
Suyang muttered "palace keeper, palace keeper" under his breath, then gave a shrug of his shoulders. It was the gesture of a man unconvinced.
Gwon Ram spoke with perfect composure.
"Even in ages past, there were never a few men gifted enough to turn the world upside down who, ill-favored by fortune, lay buried in obscurity in the countryside. I judged this man worthy of being presented to Your Grace, and so I brought him here today."
"Ho, is that so?"
Suyang looked Han Myeong-hoe up and down.
For a moment, the two men's gazes met and locked. Suyang bored into Han Myeong-hoe's eyes for a long while, then at last let a smile play at the corner of his mouth and poured wine into a cup.
"Well, if Vice Councillor Gwon was moved to bring a man here in person, he can hardly be an ordinary fellow…… You said your courtesy name is Ja-jun, Master Han? A friend of Gwon Ram is as good as a friend of mine."
Han Myeong-hoe drained his cup in one go, and Suyang refilled it. This time the prince's gaze shifted to the man in the wide-brimmed hat who had been standing in attendance behind Han Myeong-hoe since the beginning.
"And who might that stout gentleman standing back there be?"
It was Han Myeong-hoe who answered.
"A man called Han Ga-ryeong, Your Grace. When I was young and traveling the realm, I took him in during a journey to the northern frontier. He has spent many years in the lands of the Jurchens."
"Heh—so Master Han has been to the northern borderlands too? And he lived among the Jurchens?"
Suyang turned a fresh, appraising eye over both Han Myeong-hoe and Han Ga-ryeong.
"Indeed. We ran into bandits on that journey and nearly lost our lives in a fight, but this man saved mine. He had lived in the Jurchen lands for a long time, and ever since then he has been closer to me than a sworn brother. His martial skill is outstanding, but more than that, he is a rare man who truly understands righteousness and honor."
"Master of both the sword and of honor…… A rare specimen of a man, these days! Splendid."
Suyang smacked his knee in admiration at the words.
"I have only dabbled in the martial arts myself, skimming the surface like a frog over water…… but the man does look extraordinary."
"He is, Your Grace. His swordsmanship in particular is first-rate. He even performs the sword dance—and his skill at that is itself a masterpiece."
"Ah, the sword dance! Now, let me think. Lim Eul-un, are you there?"
"Yes, Your Lordship."
A broad smile spread across Suyang's face, and suddenly he raised his voice and called out. From a distance, one brawny servant who had been keeping watch over the surroundings came hurrying over. He wore armor of stitched leather.
"You there—loosen your sword and hand it to this gentleman."
At Suyang's command, Lim Eul-un cast a slightly dubious glance at Han Ga-ryeong, but promptly unslung the blade he wore crosswise at his back and passed it over. Then he fell back a single step and took his place behind Suyang—ready, should anything go amiss, to dart forward and serve as a human shield.
Suyang turned to Han Ga-ryeong and spoke.
"They say your sword dance is the finest of its kind. Could you favor us with a display of that talent?"
"I am unworthy, but……"
Suyang rose to his feet and clapped his hands. At once the gisaeng seated in the center of the courtyard drew back to the edges. The others at the drinking party watched from afar, wondering what was afoot.
"This gentleman is going to show us a trick or two. Let us have a good look, then!"
Under the converging weight of every eye in the gathering, Han Ga-ryeong looked down at the blade. Then, at last, he closed his hand around the ebony hilt and drew it out with an easy, fluid motion.
The afternoon sun of a spring day shattered brilliantly off the tip of the blade and scattered into the air.
He stepped lightly to the center of the courtyard and lowered the sword into its first position. Then, on quiet feet, he began to dance.
"Ohh……!"
The onlookers' eyes went round as saucers—and before they knew it, the dancer himself had all but vanished into the shimmering light flung from the edge of the blade. Not a single hesitation, not a single doubt, in any movement. It was magnificent.
Cries of admiration broke out again and again from the assembled guests.
"Heavens—his sword dance is beyond compare!"
"The performers' blades at the Hongmungwan banquets were never the equal of this!"
Drunk and spellbound, the spectators praised him until their mouths went dry. Suyang himself drummed his knees repeatedly in wonder.
At last Han Ga-ryeong finished the dance, sheathed the treasured sword he had received from Suyang, and presented it back with a deep, respectful bow. As Suyang took up the sword again, Han Myeong-hoe spoke once more.
"His blade-work is a masterpiece, as Your Grace has seen—but the flute he learned in the Jurchen lands is likewise first-rate. It is called the *Hagyeong*, a flute carved from the leg bone of a crane. I wonder whether it might please Your Lordship's ear."
"Hmm. Well then—might you play us a tune?"
At Suyang's request, Ga-ryeong this time drew a flute from inside his robe. The short, white bone-flute gleamed in the sunlight. As the onlookers watched with curiosity, he sounded the first note—and its clear, limpid tone rang out and cut across the blue sky.
He began in the placid Pyeongjo mode, and under that bright, unadorned melody the faces of the whole company brightened a degree further.
"Ah—wonderful!"
Taking the murmurs of admiration as an accompaniment, the flute passed in a short while into the lively Gyeongjo mode, then again into the stately Ujo—until even the seated guests found their shoulders swaying of their own accord. The sharp-eyed gisaeng rose unprompted, one after another, and began to dance.
Suyang cried out his admiration again and again.
"Ohh!"
Having stirred the company's spirits to a full boil, Ga-ryeong now changed the melody with slow deliberation, slipping into the plaintive Gyemyeonjo mode. That tender, flowing, grief-laden tune conjured the image of a river's current beaten backward by an autumn wind. The guests sighed and murmured in spite of themselves, and more than a few of the gisaeng had tears welling in their eyes. Even the hard-drinking, hard-laughing Suyang found himself suddenly steeped in sorrow.
At that moment Suyang flung wide the sleeves of his robe, rose to his feet, and called out.
"Enough—enough, I say!"
Ga-ryeong lifted his lips from the flute.
"Truly a wonder of the world! To seize a man's heart with music and squeeze it, then release it again—I have not felt such delight in an age. And now, though my singing is poor, I believe I shall offer a tune of my own."
"If Your Lordship graces this gathering with song, how could we refuse!"
The guests clamored over one another in encouragement. Suyang cleared his throat, then began to sing in a ringing voice.
"A true man stands forth in the world—
and wins for himself fame and merit!
Wins for himself fame and merit—
and roams at ease all his days!
Roams at ease all his days—
and in wild drunken joy I delight!
In wild drunken joy I delight—
so merrily, merrily I sing!"
The moment Suyang's song ended, the whole company burst into applause and cries of wonder. Beaming with self-satisfaction, Suyang looked around at Gwon Ram and Han Myeong-hoe.
"Well? What say you?"
"Magnificent. Truly a song that shows forth the spirit and refinement of a great man."
Gwon Ram praised him, a smile spreading across his whole face. Han Myeong-hoe, standing beside him, stroked his beard and added,
"A fine song indeed. Only—one small thing……"
*Only?* A subtle change came over Gwon Ram's face as he stole a glance at Suyang. Suyang was not without talent, to be sure, but he was a man who harbored a quiet, persistent vanity about it. No visible displeasure had yet risen to his face, and Gwon Ram allowed himself a small measure of relief—yet the faint twitch at the corners of the prince's brows kept him on tenterhooks.
Why on earth is the man being so needlessly bold, at a first meeting of all occasions……
Oblivious, or indifferent, to his friend's inner turmoil, Han Myeong-hoe went on with perfect composure.
"Change but two lines, and it will be complete."
"Ho…… And which lines would those be?"
"'And wins for himself fame and merit'—and 'Wins for himself fame and merit.' If Your Grace would alter those two lines, the song would be perfect."
Gwon Ram was no dullard, yet for once he could not fathom where Han Myeong-hoe was going with this. Suyang wore a thoughtful look for a moment, then opened his mouth slowly.
"Very well. And how would you have me change them?"
At Suyang's words, Han Myeong-hoe smiled faintly. He counted off on his fingers and spoke in a low voice—low enough that only Suyang and Gwon Ram, standing nearest, could hear.
"'And takes the whole world for his own'—and 'Takes the whole world for his own.'"
That reckless fool—!
Even the stout-hearted Gwon Ram flinched in spite of himself. In a dynastic state like Joseon, it was a brazen utterance that, mishandled, could cost a man his head.
Han Myeong-hoe, for his part, never took his eyes off Suyang. It lasted only an instant—but he did not miss the flash of lightning that swept across the prince's eyes. The shadow of a hunger yet unfed……
Han Myeong-hoe smiled a smile of quiet triumph.
Before long Suyang leaned back, and with deliberate heartiness let out a great laugh.
"Ha! Master Han, your tongue runs away with you. Ha, ha, ha."
Han Myeong-hoe smiled pleasantly.
"Does it, indeed?"
Suyang answered nothing, only tipped back his wine. But there was not a trace of drunkenness in the eyes that fixed on Han Myeong-hoe—only intensity. Han Myeong-hoe received that gaze without so much as a tremor.
At length Suyang turned his eyes toward the distant mountains, and as he set down his emptied cup, murmured as if in passing.
"In an age of such peace and prosperity as this…… Your elder brother has waited a long while for an heir to continue the great line, has he not?"
"Opportunity, Your Grace, comes at any hour—so long as the man is prepared for it."
"Is that so."
Han Myeong-hoe only smiled, a smile that gave away nothing. Suyang looked at him with meaning-laden eyes.
"That is an interesting thing to say. So—will this opportunity of yours truly come?"
Suyang's voice was low.
Just then a sudden commotion broke out at the far edge of the gathering, and everyone's attention swung that way. Suyang knitted his brow and called out sharply.
"A ruckus, on a day of celebration? Lim Eul-un! Are you there? Go and find out what that disturbance is."
"Yes, Your Lordship."
Lim Eul-un, receiving his orders, went bounding off. While Suyang and his party waited, the servant returned, having seen to the matter.
"Well? What in the world is it?"
"A traveler, my lord, and a servant of his, have come asking to be given a cup of wine."
"A traveler?"
Suyang's expression darkened—but only for a moment. Then, casting a sidelong glance over the assembled guests, he forced out a hearty laugh.
"On a day as merry as this one, offering a cup of wine to whoever comes to the gate is only common human kindness. Let them come!"
Lim Eul-un bowed at the waist and retraced his steps. Suyang shrugged his shoulders and looked back at Gwon Ram and Han Myeong-hoe.
"A day of marvels, it seems. Unlooked-for guests keep turning up one after another."
"Indeed, it would appear so."
Gwon Ram answered with a smile. Han Myeong-hoe, on the other hand, could not entirely hide a look of faint displeasure. The stranger's sudden appearance had interrupted a meeting with Suyang that he had labored long to arrange.
Before long, ushered in by Lim Eul-un, a scholar in a horsehair hat entered together with a young man in a pointed cap.
By their appearance, a pair of travelers indeed. And yet no ordinary men, I would wager.
Han Myeong-hoe had his own designs in coming here today, and so his interest stirred at once in whoever it was that had come seeking Suyang. With keen eyes he studied the newly arrived travelers.
The man in scholar's dress was tall, with fine, well-cut brows and a straight nose—sharp, regular features—and a light of intelligence living in both his eyes. Judged by his plain, unadorned garb there was little wealth about him, yet the immaculate neatness of his dress read not as shabbiness but as an air of quiet elegance. His bearing was equally distinguished, his dignified looks suggestive not of bookish frailty but of a bold, chivalrous spirit.
Han Myeong-hoe smacked his lips, glanced toward Gwon Ram, and murmured.
"Judging by his countenance, he is no ordinary man—but do you make him out, Vice Councillor?"
Today, for Han Myeong-hoe, was the crucial day on which he meant to catch Suyang's eye and lay bare his ambitions. This uninvited traveler nagged at him terribly.
"Hmm. I confess I've never laid eyes on him before either……"
Gwon Ram, tilting his head, tugged at the sleeve of the man beside him and asked.
"Here, Master Seo Ja-won! You were a man who mixed freely with all manner of company in your day. Does he look familiar at all?"
"I'm afraid he is a stranger to me as well, my lord. Perhaps merely a traveler passing through."
At this, Seo Geo-jeong, who held the post of Vice Director in the Royal Archives, tilted his head too. A brilliant poet and man of letters, Seo Geo-jeong had long kept company with the finest writers of the age. If even he could not recognize the man, then surely he was no one worth guarding against……
Just as Han Myeong-hoe was about to nod, Suyang, in the manner of a host, put the question first.
"I had gathered a few guests today for a private feast of my own…… And who, may I ask, might our late-arriving gentleman be?"
The scholar answered Suyang's question with a bow.
"Yes, honored host. My surname is Jeong, my given name Ho-chan. A man of no fixed abode, I have been wandering the eight provinces of the realm; passing through this vicinity just now, I glimpsed a most auspicious aura and, finding it wondrously strange, came to see for myself. I craved a look at the master of this place, and so, casting shame aside, I have intruded on your gathering."
"Heh. An *auspicious aura*, you say?"
At the words of the traveler who had named himself Jeong Ho-chan, Suyang felt his spirits rise in spite of himself—though he gave his head an elaborate, dismissive shake.
"Well, that is hardly surprising. I have summoned the most brilliant talents of the age to this place, after all. Naturally the air would be auspicious. Ha, ha."
"So it would seem."
Jeong Ho-chan cast a slow look around the gathering, then tilted his head and gazed up at Suyang.
"Your words are entirely just, my lord. With the wonders of this age all gathered in one place, even a humble traveler such as I can gauge the discernment of our host."
As Jeong Ho-chan slyly flattered the breadth of Suyang's connections, the prince's shoulders drew themselves up proudly.
"And yet, from what I read of your countenance, my lord—the truly first-rank fate belongs to you, our host. The other gentlemen are all of the second degree; but the auspicious aura I beheld from afar flows from you alone, so I venture to say."
"Heh! So the gentleman reads faces as well."
As Suyang let out a rollicking laugh, the people around him laughed along. When the merriment had died down, Suyang offered him a seat.
"Well, then…… Seeing as the day has turned out so strangely, perhaps our gentleman here will read *my* fortune. Come—take a cup with me."
Jeong Ho-chan stepped forward to stand before Suyang, and as he accepted the wine the prince poured for him, he stared hard into the man's face. As he studied Suyang's features in careful detail, his expression twisted, ever so subtly—but the look vanished as quickly as it had come.
Whether or not Suyang noticed it, he asked warmly,
"So, then, Master Jeong—what does your reading say of my future?"
"It is favorable."
So saying, Jeong Ho-chan first felt out his footing. Then, sweeping his gaze slowly over the assembled company, he suddenly flung it straight at Han Myeong-hoe. That gaze seemed, for some reason, to bore clean through to his innards; a shade displeased, Han Myeong-hoe turned his head slightly away.
"The gentlemen here, I perceive, are all destined to rise into office and each take his place of rank—but you, our host, shall without doubt ascend to the supreme seat of this land."