A Gift, Not a Bribe
By the time they reached Incheon International Airport, Kim Ki-wook, the former minister, and Producer Kwon Ha-eun had already joined the group. Two archaeological specialists were there as well. Both had been recommended by Samson, who had once worked with them during the recovery of American war dead.
“Grandmother.”
Once Foreign Ministry Secretary Park, who had escorted them, finished explaining the route, he called Song Jina. He, too, was a collaborator on this plan.
“Where are you?”
“At the airport.”
“You haven’t left yet, have you?”
“No.”
“I spoke with Minister Kim separately. The connecting line is someone called Zhao Huning.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Minister Kim picked the line beautifully. Zhao Huning has his own wounds when it comes to the remains of the fallen.”
“Pardon?”
“He has a connection with a businessman who was his closest friend. To put it simply, Zhao Huning’s father and that friend’s father both fought in the Korean War. Zhao Huning would have been about four years old then.”
From Song Jina’s explanation, Zhao Huning’s age became clear: about eighty.
“He has a younger brother, three years his junior, and apparently, when he went to war, he asked the eldest son to look after him.”
“...”
“That father was an officer in Peng Dehuai’s escort unit in the Chinese Communist forces, and one day, because of a mistake made by the son of the supreme leader, he was hit by American shelling and killed on the spot along with that supreme leader’s son.”
“Ah...”
“The problem is, they couldn’t bring the body back to China.”
“They couldn’t recover the remains?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Kang-to left a question mark hanging in the air.
“Because of the supreme leader at the time. Chinese soldiers who died in battle were being buried in North Korea, and so the supreme leader ordered that his own son be buried there as well. That meant they couldn’t bring Zhao Huning’s father home as remains. And it stayed that way afterward, too.”
“I see.”
“But people always turn back to their roots. When they grow old, the longing and pity they feel for family only deepen. In his case, even more so. Besides, the man had been one of the most promising officers in the Chinese forces, so his pride in his father must have been enormous. That tragedy became the very nourishment of Zhao Huning’s political life.”
“Yes...”
“He’s the sort of man who lives simply and never takes bribes. There was even a company that once tried to enter the Chinese market and, not knowing better, presented him with a gold teapot and tea set. The result was the abrupt cancellation of the Guangdong and Beijing plans.”
“I see.”
“People in Korea assume the company simply fumbled the permit process, but that’s complete nonsense. Who would invest such astronomical money only to make a procedural mistake?”
“...”
“I heard you’re transiting through Beijing with Minister Kim.”
“That’s right.”
“My thought should arrive shortly. Take it with you and present it to Zhao Huning as a gift.”
“Pardon?”
Kang-to’s voice jumped again. A gift, after she’d just said he hated bribes?
“A bribe and a gift are different. A bribe may be expensive, but it has no heart in it; a gift may be cheap, but it carries feeling. Minister Kim will be able to make up for what’s lacking, so don’t even open it—just take it to him.”
“Grandmother.”
“The contents are clothes. That’s all you need to know.”
“Clothes?”
“There’s a saying: food, clothing, and shelter. And there’s another one—clothes make the man. However plain Zhao Huning may be, he’ll accept a single set of clothes.”
“...”
“There wasn’t any sort of bad karmic knot tied to my near future, was there?”
“No.”
“Then trust your grandmother once. For all this looks, I do have a certain instinct that runs in international circles of society.”
“I will do that.”
He answered readily. If it was Song Jina, she could pull something like this off.
“If you succeed in recovering the remains, call me immediately. We’ll need time to make preparations for you, too.”
“For me?”
“There’s such a thing.”
“Yes...”
“It may not be easy, but as your grandmother—and as a citizen of this country—I’m wishing you success.”
“Thank you.”
He ended the call after exchanging his goodbyes.
“You’d better head in now.”
The Foreign Ministry secretary, having completed the formalities, looked from Minister Kim to Kang-to.
“Just a moment.”
Kang-to’s phone rang again. It was the person Song Jina had sent.
“...?”
The gift from Song Jina. It was large, but light.
What sort of clothes were they?
Curious, he took the package and headed into departures anyway.
There, they split into two teams. Kwon Ha-eun boarded the flight to Dalian with Secretary Park, while Kang-to waited with Minister Kim for the plane to Beijing.
“A gift, you said?”
At Kang-to’s words, Kim Ki-wook’s brow furrowed.
“I heard he isn’t fond of gifts?”
“That’s right. But then why would Director Song...”
“Wouldn’t she have made preparations?”
“Hmm...”
“...”
“Still... this is a personal question, but what is your relationship with Director Song? For her to look after you this much, did you perhaps receive great help from the Dharma Master, just like I did?”
“The truth is...”
After a brief pause, Kang-to finished the thought.
“She’s my grandmother.”
“What?”
Kim Ki-wook nearly recoiled in shock. He clearly hadn’t imagined that possibility.
“Then Chairman Lee Tae-seop of Cheonjo Group is your father?”
“Yes.”
“Good heavens, is that so.”
The minister pressed a hand to his forehead.
“Is there a problem?”
“Not at all. I’m just astonished.”
“I have something of a complicated story, so I hope you’ll understand.”
“Understand? I’m only astonished, that’s all.”
“...”
“Now that I think about it, I’m curious. Director Song is a woman whose network of acquaintances is known the world over, so she couldn’t possibly be ignorant of Zhao Huning’s temperament...”
“Boarding is starting.”
Kang-to rose from his seat. Truthfully, he was curious too.
Song Jina.
The clothing that occupied the front of food, clothing, and shelter.
What sort of clothes would make her so certain?
While he was still thinking about it, they landed in Beijing.
“The China Nationalities Museum there gathers the life histories of all China’s ethnic groups in one place. Have you been?” Kim Ki-wook asked as they traveled into the city in a car provided by an acquaintance.
“No.”
“Zhao Huning’s home is behind it. You’ll be surprised when you see it.”
“...?”
He didn’t even need to think long before the car stopped. They were in front of an extremely ordinary-looking mansion.
“This is the home of the Standing Committee member.”
“What?”
Kang-to was startled. China’s economic power ranked alongside the world’s giants; its GDP had grown to astonishing heights. And if one considered the wealth gap, it was no exaggeration to say that the upper class there had surpassed Korea’s own elite.
And yet this was a house so plain?
“He’s a somewhat unusual man. That’s precisely why he’s trusted by the chairman. He originally refused party duties once he passed seventy, but the chairman wouldn’t let him go. He’s someone the nation trusts, so he’s needed more than anyone.”
“Ah...”
“You know the philosopher Kant, right?”
“Yes.”
“The Standing Committee member reportedly tours the Nationalities Museum at a set time every day, just like Kant, studying the characteristics of the various ethnic groups.”
“That’s impressive.”
“He’ll be coming out of the museum shortly.”
“What?”
Kang-to’s eyes widened once more. That meant they had timed their arrival to meet him then.
“That’s why we set the flight schedule accordingly. Since we’re the ones asking a favor, it wouldn’t do to interfere with his schedule.”
“...”
A chill ran down Kang-to’s spine.
The world was vast. Song Jina was something else, but Kim Ki-wook was a man of stature too. It was precisely because people like that analyzed everything so thoroughly and invested themselves so completely that their networks in China worked as they did.
A moment later, people began to appear at the entrance. Zhao Huning. He came out with only one secretary. The others surrounding him were visitors he had met inside.
“Then...”
Even his greeting was impeccable. It was hard to believe this was a man at the apex of China’s power.
“Shall we go?”
At Kim Ki-wook’s signal, Kang-to followed.
“Mr. Zhao Huning.”
Approaching him, Kim Ki-wook bowed with proper courtesy. His pronunciation and intonation in Chinese were flawless.
“Oh, Ambassador Kim?”
Zhao Huning, who had been greeting the visitors, brightened at once.
“We arrived just as visiting hours began, so I waited.”
“No, you remembered all that?”
“How could I forget such a deep concern for the people?”
“My, my.”
“This is Dharma Master Lee Kang-to, whom I mentioned.”
Kim Ki-wook introduced Kang-to.
“Hello.”
Kang-to offered his greeting in Chinese as well. It wasn’t difficult, and he’d learned a few phrases in advance.
“This man speaks Chinese too?” Zhao Huning asked Kim Ki-wook.
“A little, but I’ll serve as interpreter.”
“I see. Then let’s go to my house first.”
Zhao Huning gestured toward his home. He walked ahead of them. Even his clothing was modest. And yet it sat on him so naturally that it did not feel like an act staged for the public eye.
“Please, drink.”
Zhao Huning offered tea. It was jasmine tea, with a fragrance light enough to be pleasant rather than showy.
“The British BBC...”
Zhao Huning began. Kang-to kept his gaze straight and listened intently.
“It was remarkable. And they even found the remains of our fallen comrades.”
“...”
“Would you like to see this?”
Zhao Huning showed him the laptop on the table. On the screen were bereaved families embracing the repatriated remains, overwhelmed with emotion.
“The families were deeply moved. Our chairman was pleased as well.”
“Yes...”
“You’re a shaman?”
“Yes.”
“I encountered shamanism when I was young, but you seem to be something special.”
“You flatter me.”
“Watching that made me think of this request. If ordinary soldiers’ remains can bring such a reaction, how much more so on the Korean side?”
“...”
“Such a dramatic matter... and, moreover, the Korean side was willing to repatriate them without conditions, purely on humanitarian grounds. So I decided to reciprocate.”
“As thanks for your decision, I’ve brought a small gift.”
“A gift?”
Zhao Huning’s gentle expression hardened. Kang-to hesitated for a moment too, but he trusted his grandmother and pressed on.
“My grandmother gave it to me, actually. If you value her sincerity, I’d be grateful if you’d accept it.”
“Your grandmother?”
“Yes.”
“...”
After a silence, Zhao Huning opened the wrapping.
“...?”
His eyes sank inward, going deep and still. It was clothing. But it wasn’t Zhao Huning’s. At a glance, it was the uniform of a People’s Army soldier from the Korean War, and the fabric itself seemed to belong to that era.
But that wasn’t all that had stirred Zhao Huning.
Pinned to the left breast of the uniform was a name tag. His father’s name. In other words, Song Jina had symbolically sent his father back to him.
It was a gamble.
A tremendous gamble.
“...”
Kang-to and Kim Ki-wook held their breath. Depending on Zhao Huning’s judgment, this could just as easily hit the old wound as soothe it.
“Well now...”
After a while, Zhao Huning gave a dry laugh. Then he rose from his seat.
“Just a moment.”
He went into the study and came back carrying a frame. The instant he laid it atop the clothes Song Jina had given him—
“...?”
Kang-to’s mind lit up. It was the exact same uniform his father had worn.
“Minister Kim.”
Zhao Huning’s voice remained calm.
“Yes.”
“As you know, I dislike gifts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“However good the intention may be, a gift inevitably develops into bribery in the end. Human nature is like that. A person who is satisfied with a small gift at first will eventually come to desire millions, then billions. That is why I have rejected gifts, whatever their purpose.”
“I know that well, but...”
“Enough. This gift feels less like it is for me and more like it is for our father, so I will accept it. He’s lain in North Korean soil for so long that his clothes were due to wear out anyway.”
Approval.
Zhao Huning’s reaction was approval.
“...?”
At that one sentence, the tension in Kim Ki-wook broke apart like lightning. Kang-to felt the same.
“You said your grandmother gave it to you?” Zhao Huning asked, directing the question at Kang-to.
“Yes.”
“Your grandmother is no less remarkable than a grandson who can glimpse the future. Indeed, she comes from a family of mingheobuljeon.”
“You flatter her.”
“To be honest, the Liaoning Provincial Party Secretary in Dingshi submitted a petition asking that this matter be reconsidered. I was already troubled, but now that I’ve seen these clothes, everything is becoming clear. It’s possible that petty squabbling on the ground could obstruct the excavation, so I’ll call and remind them again. Please go ahead and proceed properly.”
“Thank you.”
“Then off you go. Your heart is already there, isn’t it?”
Zhao Huning smiled.
“Good heavens.”
Once they stepped outside the gate, Kim Ki-wook pressed a hand to his forehead.
“Minister.”
“Let it be for a moment. I need to catch my breath.”
“...”
“This feels like I’ve come to a divine realm. A Dharma Master who carries the gods’ messages, Director Song reading Zhao Huning’s heart, and Zhao Huning himself accepting it... everyone seems to be peering into one another’s souls. So I really did just visit the realm of the immortals, didn’t I?”
“I don’t know about the realm of immortals, but I think you’ve definitely passed the final gate.”
“Then shall we charge toward Dalian on this momentum?”
Kim Ki-wook’s expression, answering in kind, overflowed with energy.