The Worst Conversationalists Are My Parents
The hardest type to converse with is the low-intelligence fool who can't grasp what you're saying, but the type where conversation utterly fails is the high-intelligence sort who simply refuses to listen. Especially the latter—they hold this 'rational expectation' that their own ideas are unconditionally right and everyone else will follow suit, which makes them all the more infuriating. And I got both types as parents.
"So, Dad. I'm not getting married. And I don't know how many times I've said this, but even if I did, it wouldn't be with that pig of a man. I don't want to marry someone whose gut sticks out so far he can't even sit at a desk!"
"The desk can be hollowed out as much as his belly. Don't throw a tantrum—think it over again. There's nothing more miserable than a marriage based on looks alone. Beauty doesn't last a hundred or a thousand years. What really matters is compatibility. Your mother and I could tell they match perfectly."
The gulf between the man and his words was unbearable. He looked like a blond romance novel Southern Fleet admiral type, speaking in a husky voice with utmost gentleness and affection. My father, Han Pung-ryu of the Cheongju Han clan.
Even I, who felt almost no familial affection, harbored a shred of sympathy for him. And beside him sat Yi Seong-hye, absently stroking a black-and-brown kitten. The cat purred contentedly, rubbing its face against her hand. She merely petted it, but everyone in the room flinched at every gesture of hers and every mew from the cat.
Like satellites trapped in orbit around a massive planet, crushed by its gravity and doomed to circle endlessly without escape, Yi Seong-hye's presence exerted immense gravitational pull, turning the entire room into her domain and spinning the family around her. She wielded the same intimidation on her own children as she did on her subordinates and enemies, without a hint of hesitation. Perhaps Mother had been born with a whip in hand. She never doubted that fear was the most effective way to rule humans.
"So, I only met him once, and even that one time ended with me flipping the table and storming out because the venue got wrecked—and you seriously think we're a good match?"
My older sister's voice dwindled, then swelled in desperation. It was heartbreaking to see her desperately avoiding looking at Yi Seong-hye. How could I not understand that feeling, where even entering her field of vision—not just eye contact—made your head bow involuntarily and your heart race? Even I, who wasn't the target, felt my stomach churn.
Sister was doing her best. "Anyone feels mismatched at first. But as you live together, the bad points fade and the good ones emerge, making things closer and happier. And how can you even say you'll live without marriage? No one lives unmarried."
"Why not? Does skipping marriage mean I drop dead from some disease? No. And why should I live with someone whose bad points glare at me and force myself to hunt for the good ones? Just marry someone whose good points shine from the start. I never planned to marry anyway, and if I did, it sure as hell wouldn't be that pig!"
Dad was at a loss for words. He blinked at Sister, then turned to Yi Seong-hye for help. As she set the cat down, it padded over toward us. Yi Seong-hye looked up at Yi Bang-ik with one eye half-lidded. I wanted to gouge out that eye and hurl it away.
"Do you think it makes sense to defy this mother's will on marriage? You hold no office, no secret lover—why should I break the betrothal I've already arranged with General Chae Yeong for your sake? I don't understand it."
"That's your situation, not mine! And it's my marriage—why are you and Dad deciding instead of me? You never even asked my opinion, so why talk like I chose this?!"
"You live off my house, my money, saving the allowance I give you to prepare for a trip to Ming. You enjoy such luxurious living thanks to me—how can you defy me? Moreover, the smooth path you've walked and will walk is all due to my halo. So isn't it only natural that I decide your future?"
Confidence at its peak. When you spout such bullshit with utter conviction, no logical rebuttal sticks—you just lose your words and concede defeat without admitting it. Why can't authoritarian parents ever escape their arrogant certainty that they're right?
Yi Bang-ik clutched her skirt hem with trembling hands, mouth agape, speechless. "If you so desperately wish to defy this mother's will, then leave this house naked right now. Everything you've used here belongs to me originally anyway. If you, a stranger with no ties to me, take even one item, I'll plaster wanted posters with your name and face across all eight provinces to hunt you down as a thief."
Feeling that bone-chilling gaze of 'love' once more, I truly sensed—as someone once said—that Mother genuinely loved her family. She treated her children not as livestock to slaughter, but at least as humans. How generous and merciful. I hated her with every fiber of my being.
Sister trembled like an aspen tree. Shame at her inability to retort to Yi Seong-hye's abuse, mixed with fury at the woman before her, sparked briefly in her red eyes. "If you have nothing more to say, sit down. Don't just stand there."
Yi Bang-ik sat without withdrawing her burning glare. Their eyes clashed several times in midair. In the cooled, rigid room, no one spoke until Dad tried to change the subject to escape the thorns. "Speaking of which, Bang-yeon. Is your head all better? I'm so relieved you're fine. I cried all day yesterday."
"Yeah. Thanks for worrying, Dad."
Yi Seong-hye turned her head, glancing indifferently my way. The expression of someone hunting for flaws before disappointment set in. Couldn't she muster even one warm word at a time like this?
"If you'd learned to ride a horse on your own from the start, would this have happened? You're ten now—if you can't ride alone, your future's plain as day. You can't cling to your sisters' backs forever. What have you even been doing all this time?"
My eyelashes brushed my lower lids, then rose. Blood rushed to my head, burning hot. Irritation surged. Did she even remember I was ten?
"While Ji-an is in Hamheung, learn horsemanship from her. As a Jurchen, she won't struggle teaching it. Both of you, study diligently."
Yi Seong-hye rose first. Dad followed her across the room, and only then did we breathe easier. Yi Bang-ik inhaled sharply like when lighting a pipe, then let out a long sigh. "Hey. When you grow up, go to Gaegyeong, marry some moderately well-off, moderately pretty girl, and live your life. Don't stay in this fucked-up house."
"Honestly, I don't get why she keeps calling us family. We're just freeloaders mooching off Yi Seong-hye's house."
Yi Bang-ik snorted a laugh through her nose. "You've never seen how she treats the Gabyulcho, have you? Mom's usually got that half-lidded bitch face, but when she occasionally gets in the mood, she gives more generously than anyone. If we were freeloaders, we wouldn't hear this nonsense, but we'd endure that face all day."
"If I just said Mom's rotten to the core, Bang-eun Sis would blow up, right?"
"Say it when she's not around."
"Smart."
Stepping outside, the open view to the river stretched before us. The water's surface glittered like fish scales catching the light. We walked with Sister to the riverbank, strolling over the gravel.
"What're you gonna do now, Sis? Not that I care about you, but marrying that pig? No way."
"Dunno. I'd love to seduce some cute shota heir, bleed their family assets dry, and live easy—but with all this bullshit from above, it's pissing me off. I won't marry that bastard even if I die, so I'll find someone decent. Oh, right—what about you?"
"Gwag eo exam. Top the ranks, then ditch Hamheung. Not like I have grand ambitions to change the world. I'll slack off in some dead-end court post, then when you or Mom snag a position, grab a cushy one and retire."
"But how'll you prepare? Got textbooks or money? Bang-ul'll take all hers to Seonggyun-gwan, and begging Mom? She'll say men just need to eat well."
"That's the problem. No way right now. Begging Bang-ul? She'd cry and wail no. Borrowing from the big sisters? They'd probably lend, but owing them feels... burdensome. If push comes to shove, I guess."
"Hmm... yeah?"
Yi Bang-ik paused mid-sentence, squatting on a slope and rummaging through the grass with her hand. After tens of seconds of silent digging, she beckoned me over. Up close, she shoved a clover leaf into my hand. "Found a four-leaf clover. Take it. Payment for running errands for sweet rice drink."
"You squatted for this? Your skirt's soaked in grass."
"Whatever. Same old skirt for years. Sit."
She plucked some dogtail grass and stuck it in her mouth. Wolves raced through a barley field in the distance. We silently watched the winding river flow. After minutes, Sister—hugging her knees—spoke. "You're too smart to be used as Mom's political pawn. Fix that rude streak, and you could thrive as an official in Gaegyeong. But scraping by on meals from some dumb bitch whose only asset is her office? No."
Sister paused, then continued without looking at me. "I've got savings—buy books with it and study. Pass and head to Gaegyeong? Send food or fun stuff. Oh, introduce me to short, cute boys at Seonggyun-gwan."
"Sis, that's what you saved for ten years to visit China."
My mouth fell open naturally. "China can wait. Plenty left after books. Was saving to escape this house anyway—might as well spring someone else."
Books aren't cheap here—cost more than an ox. Something stuck in my throat; words wouldn't come. "Just say thanks at times like this."
"Thanks, Sis."
"Yeah."
The river flowed gently. I felt family might not be so bad after all.