The Madam of the Hanamachi Ochaya (1)
These days, even when Kim Chirok went to the company cafeteria, he no longer sat beside Bang Mihee. He simply squeezed in among the ordinary staff and ate there.
There were times when Director Jang dined with Bang Mihee, but he never called Chirok over. Even when the executives' table had plenty of empty seats, the invitation never came. Director Jang, it seemed, had concluded that Chirok's ardor had gone cold.
Deputy Song remarked on it.
"You haven't been sitting with Bang Mihee lately, have you?"
"I left her to you, Deputy Song."
"A beauty like that has to have a boyfriend already."
She does have a boyfriend. Jeong Chan-young from Team 1, to be exact. And a beauty? If you saw Bang Mihee's high school photos, you'd be shocked too. She's a plastic-surgery monster if there ever was one.
Even so, Bang Mihee still looked beautiful. She moved through the building in heavy makeup, trailing a cloud of perfume, and the employees of the group companies watched her with hungry, covetous eyes.
After work, Chirok went to his Japanese academy. These days he was in the advanced conversation class, learning from a native speaker. The instructor had married a Korean husband — they had dated while he was studying in Japan, and married afterward.
The conversation class was a welcome change from the dull grammar drills and JLPT test-prep courses. The instructor liked Chirok as well. His grammar was rock-solid, and having come up through the JLPT class, his ability was already strong. She praised him for understanding even long sentences and for expressing himself well, and talking with her in Japanese had become one of the small pleasures of his week.
He counted back how long he had been studying Japanese. It had already been more than six months — he had started while still at H Chemical. In truth, by the time the company Japanese training began, Chirok had already known his hiragana and katakana, and he knew a great many Chinese characters besides. He might not have known the Japanese readings, but he knew every meaning. On top of that, he had the mind of a Seoul National University graduate. That was why he had improved so dramatically.
From time to time he and the native instructor talked about Japanese dramas they had watched, or about current events. There was something he actually wanted to ask, though. He had thought of asking about Hirosue Yoshiko — but inquiring about geisha felt too embarrassing, so he never did. Besides, the instructor was from Tokyo. She probably wouldn't know much anyway.
Should I look up some Japanese novels on Amazon?
As it turned out, there were Korean online retailers that imported Japanese novels directly. He ordered an original Japanese edition of Jiro Asada's Night Tales of Foghorn Manor and began reading it, looking up the words he didn't know as he went. It was genuinely enjoyable.
It was Thursday evening. After academy, Chirok came home and read his Japanese novel, sprawled on the bed, eating the rice cakes his mother had bought. He was deep in the book when a KakaoTalk message arrived. To his surprise, it was from Bang Mihee.
Chirok hadn't been the one reaching out lately, so Bang Mihee had sent the message herself. After all, this was the man who had even linked arms with her at the Anyang amusement park — and then gone completely silent. She must have been wondering what was going on.
It occurred to him that perhaps things hadn't worked out between her and Jeong Chan-young. Or perhaps she had been playing both sides, and she still hadn't finished testing the waters.
But by now, Chirok's own ardor had gone cold. No matter that she owned a five-billion-won apartment in Banpo, Gangnam — dislike was dislike. He sent a civil, measured reply.
And just like that, Kim Chirok had turned down the haughty secretary to the chairman of a major chaebol.
He had no intention of rushing into marriage. Everyone married late these days anyway. He wanted to save at least a hundred million won before he did. He had no desire to sell himself off to a wealthy family.
Another KakaoTalk arrived. This time it was from the insufferable Oh Ha-young. He considered deleting her from KakaoTalk entirely, but left it. She was, after all, still an employee of the same group.
Chirok felt like unloading a torrent of curses on her. But Oh Ha-young was a social butterfly, the kind who had a surprising knack for picking up valuable information. So he decided to leave it at simply not replying.
A new week began.
He ran into Jeong Chan-young in the lobby of the company building. Chirok smiled and spoke first.
"Jeong Chan-young! How's the dating game going? Still just a thing?"
"Ah, well. It's going fine."
"Your parents must have met Bang Mihee at that family golf outing last time. Did they like her?"
"The talks are going well. So don't ask me about Bang Mihee anymore."
"I hope it all works out."
"You mean that? What you just said?"
"I'm serious. A friend ought to do well."
"Thanks."
With that, Jeong Chan-young spun on his heel and walked off. Chirok had the impression that Jeong Chan-young had made up his mind about Bang Mihee.
One day, Director Jang summoned him. Chirok was certain he was about to be lectured again on showing more initiative — told to confess his love to Bang Mihee, maybe even to kiss her.
Should I show him the pre-surgery photos Oh Ha-young sent? Should I tell him she used to go to Gangnam clubs under the name Jessica?
But saying something like that to Director Jang felt wrong. It would be a cheap, petty thing for a man to do. If he stooped to that, he would be no different from Oh Ha-young.
I can't become the same kind of person as Oh Ha-young.
That Bang Mihee was a plastic-surgery beauty was already openly discussed among the staff of the Strategic Planning Office. Jeong Chan-young couldn't possibly be unaware of the rumors. But how many women hadn't had some work done? Unless it was a complete overhaul, people let it slide. Jeong Chan-young had probably known and chosen to look past it. A little work, and this beautiful? There was nothing to find fault with. He would have dismissed the people spreading those stories as simply jealous of her.
Director Jang was drinking tea.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"What happened with that JLPT exam you were going to take?"
"I already took it, sir. Results come out next month."
"Did you? How did you do? N1, correct?"
"Yes, sir. That's right."
"How's your conversation?"
"I couldn't hold a long debate, but I can handle simple conversation."
"I need you to run an errand for me."
"An errand, sir?"
There was no mention of Bang Mihee today. So this was going to be about work, then. Even so, work ought to go through the team leader. For the office head to issue instructions directly like this was not a good thing — it unsettled the hierarchy, and it could breed discontent among the Strategic Planning staff.
"It's nothing complicated. I need you to go out to the Chairman's villa — the one you visited before."
"The villa on the Bukhan River, sir?"
"Going out to the villa is a personal matter, which is why I'm asking you as a favor. There will be a middle-aged Japanese woman there. All you need to do is deliver something to her."
"Deliver what, sir?"
"She's returning to Japan, so I bought her a gift. Just hand it over and come back."
"I don't even have a car, sir."
"Take President Jeong-hee's car. She's away on a business trip, so you can use it. I've already spoken to her driver."
"Ah... yes, sir."
"My own car doesn't have a driver. This group only assigns drivers at the President level and above, as you know. So use President Jeong-hee's car. She said to use it while she's away."
"But why send me, sir?"
"It's awkward to assign something outside of work to anyone else. And it's better if the villa isn't widely known among the staff. You've been there once already, so you're the right person to go."
"I understand, sir."
"And you speak some Japanese, don't you? Of course, we have Japan-educated people in the company, but as I said — I'd rather not publicize the Chairman's villa."
"I understand what you mean, sir. Where is the item I need to take?"
"In the trunk of my car. Let's go down and transfer it now."
"Yes, sir."
Chirok followed the director down to the underground parking garage.
"What's a Japanese woman doing at the villa, if I may ask?"
"Ah, that woman runs some kind of social club in Japan — an ochaya, I think they call it."
"An ochaya?"
I know what an ochaya is. It's a geisha banquet house. Which means that woman must be the okasan of an ochaya — the woman the geisha call Mother.
Chirok knew what an ochaya was. He had watched plenty of Japanese dramas, read the novels, seen the videos. When it came to Japanese culture, he knew more than Director Jang did. The moment he heard the word, he understood.
Director Jang smiled.
"She's probably a woman the Chairman knew in his younger days. Came to Korea for a visit and stopped by to pay her respects."
"I see, sir."
"The Chairman felt it would be a shame to send her off empty-handed, so he had me buy her a gift."
Chirok's chest gave a strange, unsteady lurch.
A woman like this might even know Hirosue Yoshiko.
If the geisha called her Mother, she had to be a madam. He wondered if she was someone the Chairman had gotten to know after visiting a Japanese teahouse in his youth. For a chaebol chairman, that was entirely plausible.
President Jeong-hee's car was a gleaming Mercedes-Maybach. The driver looked to be in his late fifties.
"Driver Park! Take this fellow to the Chairman's villa in Yangpyeong and back."
The driver nodded instead of answering. Not a talkative man, it seemed. Director Jang instructed Chirok to transfer the gift bundle from his own car into President Jeong-hee's. Chirok moved the packages, then bowed and said he would be on his way.
He took the front passenger seat of the Mercedes.
Kim Chirok, you've come up in the world today. Getting to ride in a brand-new Mercedes-Maybach.
The engine was almost silent. The car slipped out of Seoul as if gliding, and ran along the riverside highway. Driver and passenger stared ahead without a word. Near Misari, the driver spoke.
"You don't look like you're from the secretariat."
"No. I work in the Strategic Planning Office."
"Assistant Manager, are you?"
"No. I'm still staff."
"I'm Deputy General Manager rank, myself."
He puffed himself up as he said it. Even as a driver, he seemed to draw a Deputy General Manager's salary. Then again, the Chairman's own driver was supposedly Director-level, so it made a certain kind of sense.
They arrived at the Chairman's villa on the Bukhan River. It was a place of birdsong and nothing else — a realm of immortals, a world where only sages would live.
The villa caretaker happened to be there. Chirok had heard he was a local from Seojong-myeon, married to the woman who worked in the kitchen. They lived in the village and only came out to look after the place when the Chairman was expected.
Chirok greeted him.
"I've come to see the Japanese lady staying here."
"Have you, now?"
"I've brought a gift for her to take when she returns home."
"She's in the inner house. The Chairman's at the hospital today — it's his appointment day — so she'll be alone."
"I see. Thank you."
"You speak Japanese, do you?"
"A little, yes."
"Oh, is that so? I don't speak a word of it, so I've been at a loss. Go on in and see her, then."
Chirok carried the gift bundle to the inner house.
"Is anyone there?"
A woman emerged at the sound. She looked unexpectedly young, and strikingly refined. He had pictured a heavily made-up madam — the kind of woman geisha would call Mother. That was not what he found.
She wore almost no makeup, and she was quite beautiful. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes, though, suggested she was older than she first appeared.
Chirok spoke in the Japanese he had spent months polishing.
"Konnichiwa. I am an employee of H Group."
The moment Japanese left his mouth, the woman started in surprise.
"Ah, sou desu ka!"
"I've come on an errand. I've brought a gift for you to take when you return home."
"Is that so? Please, come inside."
She brought both hands together before her and bowed with formal courtesy. There was real cultivation in her bearing. A woman like this would not look out of place as a cabinet minister's wife, or the wife of a major company's president. She was a hundred times the woman that 'Pig Mom' was — the wife of H Group's H Construction president.