I would save the one whom I had once called orabeoni—Older Brother—whether it was to prove his innocence or to save him from his own darkness.
“Ryun,” I said. “I am going to Myeonmok village.”
TWENTY
“TAKE CARE OF yourself,” Lady Kang said, and behind her, Sunh?i stood and smiled at me. “Be brave and do what is right. For the weary and the frightened, create a paradise on the cold bones of this earth.”
Clasping my hands, I bowed deeply and bid them farewell. I wondered if this would be the last time I’d see them, for soon they would be called traitors and condemned to death.
Drawing myself back up, I tried to memorize their gentle countenances and smiles. They had fed me and had shared tea with me last night. Generosity and gratitude had filled every plate and bowl served to me.
I did not believe in their Western God, but I knew that Lady Kang and her daughter must have been an aunt and a cousin who had loved me very well in a previous life.
Lady Kang stepped forward. “Right now, the darkness before us is all we see, but the bright morning is sure to come.” Her large and bony hands then wrapped around my rough fingers. “I pray many blessings over your life, Seol. Wherever you go, may you be shown kindness after kindness.”
* * *
I lowered the brim of my satgat over my face as I made my way toward the soldier guarding the East Gate. I presented to the guard the identification tag lent to me by Lady Kang, which belonged to one of her manservants. He cast a cursory glance over me, and I knew that what he saw was a gray robe, ragged and dusty, secured by a black sash belt. The topknot all men wore, I wore too, hidden beneath my conical straw hat. I was to him a harmless, lanky young man.
The guard gestured at me with his chin. Get going.
I stepped out of the capital and took the road that wended east to where Mount Yongma, Mount Acha, and the Han River met. Even from where I stood, I could see the shadow of the mountains silhouetted against the early morning sky, painted purple. A shiver rippled down my limbs. The air was cold, and I was relieved that Lady Kang had thought to line my robe with cotton padding to keep the heat in. Overnight snow had fallen unusually early for autumn, layering the fields and mountains, white as bare bone.
The sound of footsteps behind made me wary. It was a water carrier with pails hanging from a yoke, splashing their contents. His large eyes protruded from his burnt face, and our gazes met, only for a moment. I quickened my steps until he was but a spot in the distance.
I no longer felt safe anywhere. No one could be trusted.
The wind grew fiercer as I drew closer to the mountains. Their towering peaks blocked out the sunlight, leaving me in an icy sea of shadows. Strands of my hair escaped from beneath my hat, flicking across my face, obscuring my vision. Sometimes I saw only my streaming hair, sometimes glimpses of the purple sky and giant mountains. Holding back the strands, I paused now and then to look behind me, to make sure no one was following, before feeling safe enough to push forward.
The journey was not meant to take too long, yet it felt endless, like the seemingly endless journey I had taken with my brother and sister toward the port after the end of our three years of banishment.
I love Older Sister. I love the sky. I love the sea. I love the fishes in it. I’d listed all these things while running my fingers through the long grass. But best of all, I love you, orabeoni.
Best of all.
My fingers numb, I reached into my robe, and it took a while for me to feel the crinkled paper I was looking for. I slipped it out and unfolded the sheet on which I had drawn my brother’s face. His lightly shaded eyes, his round face, his timid smile.
He belonged to the past, a place he would never leave, not even to come looking for me.
I kissed the sheet and then tore it in half, then in half again, the paper hissing with each motion. I opened my fingers and let the torn pieces be swept away like moths on the wind.