Saga of the Pai Family

By Lucina Park

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 14, 2009
• ISBN: 9781984572851

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Copyright © 2009 by Lucina Park.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 12/17/2018

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Contents

Chapter 1     1801—The Year of the Rooster

Chapter 2     Dongsang Village in Kimhae

Chapter 3     A New Teacher, Jubu, and Hangum

Chapter 4     Marriage

Chapter 5     Separations

Chapter 6     Donghak Revolution and a New Partner

Chapter 7     Departure and Reunion

Chapter 8     Happiness in the Pharmacy Clinic

Chapter 9     Wind Blowing at the Twigs

Chapter 10   Father’s Hometown

Chapter 11   The Same Ground

Chapter 12   Encounter

Chapter 13   Another Encounter

Chapter 14   The Continued Relationship

Chapter 15   Pastor Ross

Chapter 16   A Cold Snack for Three Puns

Chapter 17   The Pharmacy Clinic Church

Chapter 18   The Righteous Dongsuhk

Chapter 19   Leaving Home

Chapter 20   The Kei-seong School

Chapter 21   Kyungshin School

Chapter 22   Modern Science and Haerim

Chapter 23   The Flame of Yuil School

Chapter 24   Chunlee Leaves

Chapter 25   Choguk Kwangbok Hoe and the Severance Medical School

Chapter 26   In Between Studies and Independence

Chapter 27   Back Home Again

Chapter 28   Standing on a Spring Day

Chapter 29   Manchuria

Chapter 30   In the Deepening Process of Learning

Chapter 31   Manchuria, Shanghai and the March 1st Movement

Chapter 32   The Coming Day

Chapter 33   That Spring In Kimhae

Chapter 34   Kyungsung District Court, Seodaemun Prison

Chapter 35   Severance Hospital

Epilogue

Appendix

Biographer’s Note

Chapter 1

1801—The Year of the Rooster

The cold wind kept filtering through the cracks in the strips of cotton wound around his silk shoes, which were torn and frayed. Kwangkuk Pai’s two small feet, already numb from the cold, continued to push forward with lifeless steps. The pace of his father, Soowoo Pai, who was walking ahead of him, began to slow down, too. They had been on the road for a whole month exposed to the cold.

Exhausted as an adult, Soowoo could sense the physical impact this hardship must be having on young Kwangkuk. Coming to a brief halt, Soowoo turned and looked back. At the sight of his son, the epitome of a beggar boy with a straw sack thrown over his grimy quilted cotton top as added protection against the cold, Soowoo felt a gush of tears filling his eyes.

Tough going, right son? But try to pick up your pace just a bit. Before sunset we must reach at least the border of a village to beg for food and a place to sleep.

His father’s remark caused Kwangkuk to stop walking altogether, hard as it had been, and he glared at his father as he screamed in a sudden outburst of anger. Father! What have we done so wrong that we must leave our fine home and suffer like this? I miss my mother. I really do! The boy began yelling bitterly and was now seemingly oblivious to the cold.

Tears began to fill Soowoo’s eyes. To hide them, he turned his face away from his son and looked up to the sky. Locked in the icy grip of the month of the winter solstice, the sky clearly forewarned of an imminent snowstorm.

Soowoo squeezed his eyelids shut. The thought crossed his mind that the child might have hit the nail on the head. Was it such a major crime to have met and occasionally spoken with those people said to be followers of a new philosophy called Catholicism and to have provided them with a place of assembly a few times?

However, had it only been Catholicism at issue, perhaps it might not have been necessary for them to leave home and wander. Surely, fraternization with the Catholic groups hadn’t reflected that well on his position as Administrator of Chungju Township, but what brought it to a head had been the beating death of a servant girl, unpremeditated though it might have been.

It happened one afternoon last fall when the soft ripe persimmons were about to fall from the tree in the backyard. Ten-year-old Kwangkuk was just coming back from the village, dressed in jade-colored trousers made of silk fabric and a dark blue jacket—a standard outfit indicating his status as the son of a governmental official.

He looked at a few of the slaves who were gathered on the wooden veranda. The slaves stood up immediately, not knowing what to do. There was a steamed rice cake at the wooden veranda of the servant’s quarters. As there were always many guests in the house, food was always available, including steamed rice cakes.

Kwangkuk tried to pass them immediately, aware that the servants were nervous. He also knew that they regularly snatched the rice cakes for themselves. He gave them a slight smile. One of the servants approached Kwangkuk and said, Young Master! You must be hungry after reading all those difficult words in school! Here, have some rice cake before you go. The way he bowed low and looked up at Kwangkuk was pitiful to the boy’s ears.

Just as he was about to take a bite of the rice cake, a small door of the servant’s room opened and a servant girl with untidy hair ran out. Sir! Young Master, you came!

Her yellow-toothed smile gave her the appearance of a crazed girl, or a ghost. Kwangkuk, frightened at her appearance and words, dropped the rice cake. As he stood there shaking, the girl came stepped closer to Kwangkuk.

Oh, young master! What’s the matter?

Despite Kwangkuk’s screaming, the girl stepped even closer to him, not understanding his behavior. Confused, she asked, What’s wrong? What are you doing?

Some of the outraged servants ran to the girl. You little idiot! How dare you scare our young master? How dare you appear before of him with your untidy hair?

One of the servants threw her aside. The girl rolled all the way towards the end of the wooden veranda, staring at the servants. Kwangkuk was still screaming, prompting the other servants to run towards the girl all at once. One of the servants started kicking her, as another punched her chin. Soon her mouth was filled with blood. Another servant lifted her and threw her down with force. This beating continued until the girl finally stopped breathing and lay still. The fading sunset soon fell behind the mountains, casting its violent red rays onto the hunched corpse of the girl.

Kwangkuk had already run into the house, and the servants who had only wanted to frighten the girl were unsure of what to do. The dead girl was the daughter of a servant who was a dishwasher. Due to her ignorance, she had never combed her hair neatly and had been sleeping at the time when she heard Kwangkuk’s voice. At fourteen years of age, she was approaching womanhood, and there was a rumor among the servants that she had a crush on Kwangkuk. They presumed that she had probably reacted in such a way because she had never seen Kwangkuk so closely before.

The girl’s mother cried the entire night until her throat was sore. The next morning, they immediately buried her in the plains. Soowoo gave some money to the mother as compensation, but it did not ease the ill feeling pitted deep within his gut.

Soowoo was very confused and concerned. The interaction with the Catholic believers made him nervous, but now a murder was within the house, opening up the door for a public scandal involving him and his household. The incident would inevitably become public and widely known. A revolt by the juniors against senior officials had become a definite possibility. To make matters worse, some of the Catholics he had been involved with were now in prison.

After worrying for several days, Soowoo finally decided to take his wife and son and ran away at night. Before he left the village, he wanted to meet with some of his close Catholic friends, but many of them were already imprisoned.

Soon his wife, who had never experienced any difficulties before in her privileged life, fell ill. Thus, Soowoo left his wife at an inn along the way with some ornaments to pay for her care, and had little choice but to continue on with his son. His destination was not set. He just felt the immediate need to be as far away from Chungju as possible.

During their wanderings one night, they came across an old man. The old man wore a one-layered top coat without a hat and had his white hair tied in a traditional topknot.

Is it the end of the world? As soon as the old man spoke in a grief-filled voice, he began to closely inspect the father and son.

I knew I wanted to come to this path. When I sat down and closed my eyes, a vision of a hunter chasing two rabbits kept coming to my mind. I believe that you two are the rabbits. You don’t look so bad though; follow me!

The old man turned away and started walking. He had gone ahead about twenty feet before Soowoo took his son by the hand and started following the old man with some apprehension.

Who are you, old man? Soowoo asked.

The old man took a deep breath before answering. His shoulders bobbed up and down with the rhythm of his breath. I am an old man living according to the logic of the heaven and the skies. I am only helping two rabbits in trouble, and even though my house is old and filthy, I invite you to stay a night before you take off tomorrow.

The old man spoke in a low tone as he walked. It was already late at night when they arrived at the old man’s grass-covered hut, located at the bottom of the mountain near the entrance of a village. He left Soowoo and the child in a smelly room and went to the kitchen to prepare two bowls of rice. A small bowl of soy sauce and some pieces of kimchi were the only side dishes.

After Soowoo had satisfied his hunger, he looked at the old man, who smiled. While blinking his own eyes, he gazed at Soowoo and the child eating under the dull light of the lantern.

"I am Chiseon Kang. I know the people who study Catholicism will be caught. I also know the people who study Catholicism in the town where you and your son came from. Those people were caught just two days ago. It seems that one of them has revealed your name. There are rumors that officials are now looking for you.

When I saw you, I realized that you are the provincial governor of Chungju, Soowoo Pai. Unlike low class people, you have a noble face and the soft hands of a person who has read books all his life. The way you eat is different from the lower class, as you are very careful and well mannered, even when you were starving.

I’ve heard your name through the people who study Catholicism. They say that you are helping them. Those stupid idiots! If they get help, they should keep their mouths shut! Why did they name you, even though you did not take part in the demonstration?"

Soowoo put his spoon down, shock registering on his face from the corner where he sat. Do you study Catholicism? he asked.

The old man nodded his head.

How do you know about it? responded Soowoo.

I’m only an old man living according to the principles of the sky. What is Buddha, what is Jesus? Isn’t Catholicism what the Westerners believe about Jesus?

I’m not quite involved in all of this, but I’ve talked to Catholics because we have something in common—the fact that we believe we must love our neighbors. That, and most people who study Catholicism are poor, so I’ve helped them out a few times. To tell you the truth, I don’t quite know a whole lot about Jesus; only that He was a godly man who was born from a virgin, and died, but later rose from the dead.

The old man smiled again as Soowoo spoke. Buddha or Jesus, I don’t know. You can stay and rest here as long as you need. I’m just an old man who makes a living by selling herbs from these mountains. Somehow I also learned about acupuncture, and I helped some Catholics during an epidemic when they were vomiting and had diarrhea. That’s when Soowoo saw some medicinal herbs hanging on the wall. The smell in the room was most likely coming from those herbs.

As soon as they were finished with their food, Kwangkuk finally stopped shivering from the cold as he fell asleep at the warm place nearest to the fireplace. The old man took out some paper, writing brushes, and an ink stick and started writing under the dull light. His crude writing contained elementary words usually written like children and women with a smattering of Chinese characters.

I’m nothing but a man of the lower class. During my many wanderings while learning acupuncture, I also learned how to write a few words. I have a younger brother who is a doctor in the town of Kimhae. Go and look for him. If you show him this letter, he will help you.

Thank you very much, old man! exclaimed Soowoo. You’ve helped us even though you don’t have anything to do with us. But the reason I am on the run is not only because of Catholicism. Not long ago, a servant girl in my household was beaten to death. Even if she was only a servant, how can it have nothing to do with me? It was dangerous helping the Catholics, but after this incident happened, I had no choice but to flee. As soon as we left home my wife fell ill, and we had to leave her at an inn near the road. But, I have to take her with us somehow.

Soowoo looked at the old man carefully. The old man looked deep in thought, but continued writing. I can’t say that my home is safe at all. Maybe one of the Catholics could give away my name. I could be caught as one of them, so I think it is best that you should leave in a few days. However, I will look for your wife first thing in the morning.

Instead of saying thank you, Soowoo held the old man’s coarse hand tightly and let out a long breath. Not long ago, had he not been leading a happy, comfortable life? He was now speechless, thinking about his wife, who was probably lying down on a spoiled rug at the inn. He tried to fight back the tears in his eyes as he released the old man’s hand and sat back.

The old man Kang stopped as he finished writing and looked at Soowoo. I don’t know why I am helping you, but as I had told you before, I had that vision of two rabbits. That is all. I think there is a plan for you and your son to live. Only the sky knows. A smile formed on the old man’s wrinkled lips.

They spread out the only blanket in the house onto the floor and lied down with Kwangkuk in the middle. After a while the old man fell asleep, but his snores kept Soowoo up the entire night.

The next day, the old man left the house quietly as Soowoo was finally sleeping to go find out how the wife was doing. It was noon when he returned to the hut where Soowoo and his son were waiting for him in the dark, smelly room.

I’m so sorry about your wife. Her illness worsened as soon as you left her and she soon fell unconscious. She died a few days ago. With the ornaments you left on her behalf, the owner of the inn bought a coffin and performed a funeral for her. It is dangerous to go there. Since she is gone now, why don’t you two just keep going on your way? I saw two rabbits, not three.

Not understanding what was going on, Kwangkuk only stared at his father as Soowoo started crying. The old man looked sadly at the pitiful sight of the grieving husband and the bewilderment of his young son.

Stay here for one more night and then go to Kimhae with my letter tomorrow morning. It is much safer there.

The next morning at the break of dawn, Soowoo took Kwangkuk and left the old man’s house. That had been a month ago. They were now continuing to walk south without any other plan than to head for Kimhae. The money he had taken with him was starting to run out, and soon they were nothing more than beggars, going to people’s homes to ask for food and shelter.

Soowoo had no idea how far or close they were to Kimhae. If he saw a village, he would go and ask for some food, and then ask them for the directions to Kimhae. They could only follow the directions that people had given them.

During this month of wandering, they encountered many generous people, but there were also people who did not show them any pity. Only a few recognized them as part of the aristocracy in spite of their disheveled appearance. It was now difficult to tell, what with their frozen faces from the bitter cold, their dirty clothes, and their worn out silk shoes.

Soowoo held Kwangkuk’s hand and calmed him down after his latest outburst of anger. You’re right! Your father did nothing wrong. We had only helped out some poor people, that’s all. It seems in this world, you have to suffer even if you did nothing wrong. It is all because fate gave you the wrong father. Let’s go to sleep before the sun goes down.

It was already late at night when they reached the next village. Exhausted, they knocked on the door of the first house at the entrance of the village. The one-room hut looked like it was going to collapse at any given moment. A young woman in white mourning clothes opened the door. She had a distressed expression on her face as Soowoo asked whether they could spend the night there.

I can feed you, but I don’t think you can spend the night here. As you can see there is only one room. In addition to that, I was widowed not long ago so I can’t let a man in. You can let the child sleep here, but you will have to sleep in the barn. I warn you, though, that it is very cold outside.

Her words were polite although she was clearly a poor woman. However, Soowoo was in no condition to refuse her generous offer. Kwangkuk was already exhausted and he himself was aching all over, unable to take another step.

Your kindness will be very much appreciated. Is the town of Kimhae far from here, by chance?

Kimhae? No, it’s not very far from here, she responded.

Oh, I see. It seems that we will just need to suffer a little more. But why are you living in this far corner all by yourself? How long have you been widowed?

My husband died three months ago. Due to his illness, the household had to be downsized, but we were not poor originally. The woman looked as if she was going to cry, but quickly went to the kitchen to bring out scorched rice, which was all the food she had left.

After eating the meager meal, Soowoo left Kwangkuk with the woman and lied down on a straw mat inside the barn. It was not the first time he had slept outside, but on this particular night, he didn’t know why he was feeling so sorry for himself.

It was cold even as he pulled the straw mat up to his neck. As he closed his eyes, images of his dead wife appeared in his mind. The sight of his beautiful, dignified wife, whose long skirt would gracefully brush the floor whenever she walked around the house, flooded his memories. How could she have died so miserably? During their long journey from Chungju, he had not had time to think about his wife much.

But now, alone in the barn, he suddenly missed his wife terribly. He missed the abundant life they shared only a couple months ago. All of a sudden, he opened his eyes. Through a gap in the barn wall, he saw one lone star in the dark sky. As he stared at the shining star, it grew bigger and bigger. Blinking his eyes a few times, the star grew to the size of the moon and was right before his eyes. Something wonderful illuminated his whole body. Suddenly his heart filled with happiness.

He mumbled to himself, Is this what Jesus was meant by loving the whole world? There is nothing more to want! There is nothing more to want! He fell asleep with a smile on his lips.

The poor widow found the corpse of Soowoo the next morning. After making breakfast she went to the barn. Soowoo’s face was beaming back at her. She cried with fear, seeing a man die in her house not long after the death of her own husband. With Kwangkuk in hand, she went over the mountains hoping to call her older brother to help dig a burial for Soowoo.

While digging the ground, the widow’s brother grumbled to himself, The weather was not that cold to freeze a man to death. This woman who killed her husband has killed another strange man!

Rolling the straw mat, he heard a crunching sound near Soowoo’s chest. He put his hands into the gap of Soowoo coat and the coldness of the corpse frightened him. He took out Chiseon Kang’s letter from the coat and proceeded to spread it out. Being illiterate, he could not read the words and could only look at Kwangkuk and the widow, who were sitting in a sunny place.

Carried away with the loss of his father, Kwangkuk sat with his head lowered down, looking at the ground. As the widow was also illiterate, she took the letter from her brother and put it in the sleeve of her coat.

After burying Soowoo, the widow and her brother decided to send Kwangkuk as a servant to a wealthy family living beyond the mountains. They simply couldn’t take Kwangkuk as a member of their own family because they could not afford to feed another mouth.

Before sunset, they sent Kwangkuk to the village over the mountains. The letter did not come to the widow’s mind until later that night. She unfolded the letter, but still could not figure out what it meant. The widow folded the letter back and put it into her cupboard, thinking that she would return it to Kwangkuk the next time she saw him.

Time passed for Kwangkuk, who was now living and working as a servant for a wealthy family in a village where the widow’s brother was staying. Over time, his memories of his past life and his family were fading away.

Formerly a young master in a noble household, he had grown into a healthy young servant from working hard for his master. Now at the age of thirty, he did not even dream of being married because of his poor situation. He would wake up at dawn to work all day and would go back to his room in the servants’ quarters to fall asleep as soon as he lay down. Thinking of a woman was just not a possibility.

After some time, the widow’s brother passed away, so she widow came over the mountain to attend the funeral. Her beauty had given way to the appearance of an old woman. Over the years, Kwangkuk had occasionally gone near the widow’s house to visit his father’s grave. Although she still lived in the house on the outskirts and made a living by sewing and helping with other people’s chores, he had never run into the widow until that day.

Kwangkuk and two other young men finished digging the ground to bury her brother, at which time he looked at the widow’s face carefully. She was not sure who Kwangkuk was, but as soon as he bowed to her, she recognized him and a smile formed on her sad face.

A simple coffin went into the hole that the men heaped soil on top of it. As the wailing sound of the widow continued, the burial ground was eventually filled and flattened. The sight of red soil on the circular grave mound made the cries even more pitiful. Kwangkuk felt tear drops in his eyes, which he quickly wiped away with the sleeve of his shirt. Suddenly, the widow looked as if she had remembered something and stared at Kwangkuk with her widened eyes.

The letter! Now I remember! I had forgotten all about it since I could not read it. The paper was in your father’s coat when we were about to bury him. I remembered it as soon as I saw you! I have it somewhere inside a cupboard back home!

Kwangkuk shook his head. A letter? He had studied how to read when he was younger, but that had been a long time ago. The face of his father appeared faintly in his mind, and the image of his mother was growing dimmer by the day. The abundant life that he had back in Chungju seemed like a faraway dream. As the words of the widow reminded him of these old times, he became confused from memories of the past.

A few days later, Kwangkuk’s curiosity about the letter grew, and he finally went to see the widow while visiting his father’s grave. The widow was waiting for him with the letter in her hands. Her hut looked even worse than before. The mud-plastered walls of the barn where his father froze to death were half gone. It had been a long time since he had read anything, but he soon understood as he read the letter, with its mixed Chinese and Korean characters.

The letter was written by Chiseon Kang to his brother in Kimhae, telling him that he was sending two valuable guests, and to look after them well.

Kwangkuk felt that everything was now useless, as it was far too late. His father, who was supposed to have reached Kimhae a long time ago, was now dead, and he was nothing more than a mere servant. He quietly folded the letter and put it away inside his sleeve. After that he bid farewell to the widow and walked slowly over the mountain to where he lived.

Arriving back at his master’s house, he continued on with his daily chores of loading bags of rice, sweeping the front of the house, and cooking stew for the cows until sunset. After eating barley-mixed rice, he usually laid down in the corner of his room and fell asleep quickly. But this night was different.

He had thought that it was probably better to continue living as he was. As though he had been born to be a servant, he worked all day and slept peacefully as soon as he laid down every night.

Something compelled Kwangkuk to slowly put his hand under the blanket, and he took out the letter again. He thought of his childhood when he had worn wear new clothes and went to school to learn how to read. Their palace-like tile-roofed house, his beautiful mother, his noble father; he tossed about as the memories flooded his mind. He felt a deep stab in his heart and moaned motionlessly as he turned his body toward the wall.

Two more years passed after that fateful day when Kwangkuk received the letter from the widow. On the outside he appeared to be working as silently as always, but something inside of him was being transformed little by little each night as he slept touching the letter under his blanket. Whenever he had the chance, he would go inside the main house to look at his master’s collection of books. Part of his heart desired knowledge with a hunger that was growing steadily. He who used to lapse into a simple peace of mind after a hard day’s work could not fall asleep as peacefully anymore.

Two years later, Kwangkuk decided to visit Jubu Kang’s house in the town of Kimhae. The reward that his master gave him after twenty years of servant-hood was excessive. There was hope evident in his face as he headed to Kimhae.

Chapter 2

Dongsang Village in Kimhae

Jubu Kang was preparing herbs as he looked at Kwangkuk who was chopping medicinal ingredients quietly. With a determined look and a straight back, Kwangkuk’s appearance revealed his noble upbringing. Jubu was puzzled when he first encountered Kwangkuk.

His brother Chiseon had passed away about ten years ago. It was after he recognized the writing of his brother on the letter that Kwangkuk presented to him that he deciphered the whole story of the father and son. He accepted Kwangkuk into his home, and Kwangkuk began to help him with the work in his drug store. He taught Kwangkuk the names of all the herbs and their treatments, and he began to teach him some acupuncture, too.

Kwangkuk was an enthusiastic learner. During his leisure time, he would memorize the seven Chinese classics, and also started learning to write again. Now forty-seven years old, it had been ten years since he found Jubu Kang. During this time, he had discarded the appearance of a servant and became a respectable physician. Jubu had encouraged him to get married on many occasions, but for some reason, Kwangkuk had not seemed interested. Indeed, since he was born a nobleman, he could not be married to any woman.

Jubu himself was a man of low birth. When they were young, he and his older brother Chiseon came to the house of a physician as errand boys, but soon learned about the healing arts as apprentices. Unlike his older brother, who would become deep in thought while looking at the far away mountains, Jubu was an intellectual and a bit of a wise guy. He had married a woman from a wealthy home, a match made by his master. Since then, he had settled down in Kimhae where his wife’s family lived and was successful as a physician. He became very wealthy, but did not have any children.

Despite his successful life, he would feel a sharp pang in his heart whenever he thought about his brother, Chiseon, who was now dead. Chiseon had deliberately stayed away from his younger brother after Jubu upgraded his status by marrying so that his lower status would not harm Jubu’s new reputation. Out of guilt and affection towards his deceased older brother, he had chosen to take care of Kwangkuk, whom his brother had asked him to look after.

Jubu remained persistent. Don’t you want to marry? Your academic and medical knowledge is extensive. Let me see a grandchild before I die. Don’t you want to fulfill the wishes of your dead father? Jubu scolded him.

Kwangkuk stopped chopping at these words, but his eyes remained as focused as ever on the task. Sunlight that slipped through the paper sliding door reflected onto the top of his nose.

Jubu pressed on, saying, They say there is a charming lady in the next village. It would be nice if she was a young virgin but since you are aged, her maturity would not matter. She is a distant relative of my in-laws. Though she did not marry because she was not pretty, she is very kind and has a quality disposition. Besides her appearance, there is nothing wrong with her. What do you think?

Kwangkuk’s eyes moved away from the chopping to the sliding door. He took a deep breath after a long period of silence. Still, would anyone want to be married to someone as old as I am? I’m no better than an orphan. Kwangkuk hung his head.

What did you say? Nothing better than an orphan? You have me, don’t you? Since I have no child, there is no one to inherit my practice. In the end, you will have to take care of this place for me. And do not worry about your age. She is already thirty years old. Jubu’s voice turned soft as he tried to reassure Kwangkuk.

If that is my master’s wish, I will do it. You may do as you wish, he respectfully replied.

Do you want to see her at a distance?

That’s fine. But if she is going to be my wife anyway, why would I have to see her in advance?

All right, all right! Then I will discuss this matter with my wife and make it happen. Jubu gave a light-hearted laugh, but Kwangkuk continued to chop the herbs in silence.

After two months had passed, Kwangkuk saw his new wife Jungshi for the first time at the wedding hall. Since the wedding was not going to be a formal, noble affair, Kwangkuk wanted simple arrangements that would not require lengthy preparations. However, Jubu’s stubbornness won out, and he prepared the wedding hall instead.

Kwangkuk appeared awkward in his wedding clothes, and Jungshi looked old in her crown-like head piece. As he had heard, she had an ugly face despite the elaborate make-up. He took a deep breath in silence. The image of his mother’s beautiful form came into mind. Even in his memory, his mother was a very pretty lady. In fact, he wanted a wife as beautiful as his mother. But it was only a dream, and he had to follow the wishes of Jubu, his benefactor.

That night, Kwangkuk became drunk after drinking all of the liquor offered by the well-wishers at his wedding. It was almost midnight by the time he went to the bridal room. His new wife was sitting facing the kerosene lamp, waiting for him. She was ashamed to show Kwangkuk her ugly face.

Wife, listen to me. We have both met each other in our old age. We did not make a family at the right age like the others, but let’s make an agreement to make a fine life together.

Kwangkuk had the smell of alcohol on his breath as he reached out to touch her neck. She shrunk back her shoulders and drew her robe closer to herself.

He did not know anything about this woman, but his heart was moved by her fragrance, and he hugged his new wife without any hesitation. She had the scent of a woman regardless of the fact that she was neither pretty