Maedang suspected Gyeong-ae’s comment was tongue in cheek, but thinking that Gyeong-ae might prove useful in the future, she responded earnestly, “Why don’t you come to see me at my house?”
“I was at your gate a little while ago, actually. Would you let someone like me in?” Gyeong-ae jeered.
“Where? At my house? You must have worn yourself out, running around to catch the playboy, but still, you should’ve come in.”
“What use do I have for a man whose hair is turning gray? Could I use him as medicine? But I shouldn’t say things like that in front of the young lady.” Gyeong-ae addressed Ui-gyeong, “Don’t worry about my stealing your man. Just put a name tag on him. He may get lost.” She was lashing out in every direction.
“That’s enough of your silly jokes!” Sang-hun jumped in. He had been curious about this for some time. “How long have you known about her?”
“What don’t I know about affairs in the capital? I’ve seen her often. Didn’t we pass each other all the time near Gan-dong?” Gyeong-ae snapped back.
Blushing, Ui-gyeong blinked her eyes and gazed at the glass in front of her, knowing that she’d lose if she argued with Gyeong-ae. She looked at her wristwatch and stood up.
Gyeong-ae also rose. “Are you leaving? You should empty your glass and return it to me first.” Draping her arm over Ui-gyeong’s shoulders in a friendly manner, Gyeong-ae sat her down, while Maedang quietly kept her seat with no intention of leaving. She didn’t want to stay much longer, but she’d be damned if she had come all this way, marching to this bitch’s tune, only to depart a laughingstock. Ui-gyeong resumed her seat helplessly, because neither Maedang nor her man showed any sign of leaving or excusing her to leave. Threatened by Gyeong-ae, she felt a tangible fear that Sang-hun might be lured away from her.
After Gyeong-ae urged her to drink more, Ui-gyeong listlessly pushed the glass toward her “mother.” Maedang readily took it and gulped it down. She knew about brandy and whisky, but she’d never seen a bottle in the shape of a zebra’s neck. She drank out of curiosity, but she felt she was losing ground by returning the glass to this impudent beauty in a Western suit. After their first exchanges, Maedang and Gyeong-ae faced each other squarely, offering and accepting shots of the liquor.
“Is this a competition between barmaids or a drinking party between alcohol-guzzling whales?” Sang-hun, who wasn’t drinking much, thought he’d take a stab at humor. “Round one between Bacchus and Maedang, ladies and gentlemen. And Bacchus has taken the lead!” In a manner unbecoming for his age, Sang-hun cheered for Gyeong-ae, imagining he found himself in a drinking paradise surrounded by adoring women.
Gyeong-ae tossed Ui-gyeong a napkin. “Why don’t you wave this, instead of a flag, to cheer on your mother?”
Maedang wanted to get Gyeong-ae dead drunk and take her to her house; she hoped to make her one of her girls. Although affronted by the young woman who treated her with such insolence, business came before saving face.
“Egu, it’s almost midnight. We should go,” Maedang said to Sang-hun after finishing off what remained in her glass. Amused, Gyeong-ae said, “You sound like you’re talking to your husband. You’re just like a married couple — with a daughter.” She burst out laughing.
Gyeong-ae’s footsteps were unsteady as she negotiated the stairs, but Maedang looked unfazed, though she had already drunk a considerable amount before coming to the restaurant. As they reached the door, four rickshaws waiting for them came into sight.
“Let’s go share another drink,” said Maedang as she helped Gyeong-ae aboard.
“Sounds good. Why don’t we stay up all night drinking!”
The rickshaws crossed the avenue in a row, with Ui-gyeong’s car in front and Gyeong-ae’s directly behind. Suddenly, Gyeong-ae’s car wheeled about, and Gyeong-ae shouted, “Good night and sleep tight! Thank you for allowing me a good look!”
In her rickshaw, Maedang snorted and clucked her tongue; her slight intoxication disappeared in the winter wind. She wasn’t sure whether she was more infuriated over having been duped by Gyeong-ae’s wiles or by the fact that a good piece of goods — by chance swept into her net — had slipped away. She would love to get her hands on such a bold and unusual girl, even though she knew she would have to pay a premium. Gyeong-ae was better than anyone else who frequented her house, on the basis of her looks, if nothing else.
“You’ve insulted me, Mr. Jo. You should bring that wildcat to me at least once. I’ll teach her some manners,” Maedang muttered sharply to Sang-hun when, later that night, they sat before a table laden with midnight snacks.
“You can try every trick you know, but I don’t think you’ll catch her.” Sang-hun thought he’d better give up on Gyeong-ae, given what he’d seen that night.
Ui-gyeong spent the night at Maedang House. Several months had passed since she first began visiting the establishment, but never had she stayed the night. It was very late, but more than that, after meeting Gyeong-ae — such a powerful opponent — she grew more audacious. She threw herself at Sang-hun’s feet more eagerly than ever before. Another worry stirred insider her — she was late that month. And the more anxious she grew, the deeper she felt she was slipping into an irreparable mess.
Slander and Schemes
Adviser Jo had a son, a grandson, and a great-grandson, but none was as important as one single person — the Suwon woman. He believed he’d get better if she just sat near him. But after being carried inside, despite the doctor’s order to remain immobile, his limp noodle of a back was aggravated, though he was handled ever so gently. For several days, his back ached and the swelling worsened.
The room in the inner quarters was hot, for it was linked to the kitchen stove, which was in constant use. With characteristic impatience, the old man ordered his quilt removed time and again, which required that the door slide open and shut all the time. His cold improved one moment and then worsened the next, completely exhausting the old man. Meanwhile, pneumonia, which they had feared most, set in. Chinese and Western doctors came and went, and the entire house was in an uproar, abuzz with the preparation of medicine from early morning until well into the night.
The Suwon woman was losing weight. Many eyes were on her, and she was all the more resentful not being able to reveal her irritation.
It looked like the old man would be sick for a long time. Like a small child, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight for a minute, and someone had to attend to his bedpan day and night. During the daytime, she could rely on others to empty it, but at night she had to do it herself. It was agonizing to be regularly wrenched from a sweet sleep, and to make matters worse, she wasn’t able to air the room, which was permeated by a pungent odor. She soon took to falling asleep with a perfumed silk handkerchief held to her nose. The old man grumbled about the handkerchief and wondered where the fragrant smell came from. He didn’t mind the scent itself, but it irritated him to think they were trying to mask the stench of his body with perfume.
Still, the Suwon woman was most obliging. If she took this opportunity to pay extra attention to the old man, she could get more farmland — yielding two hundred bags of rice rather than a hundred, for example. She also went out of her way to cast aspersions on her stepgranddaughter-in-law. Now that the old man had become so estranged from his son and daughter-in-law, he might leave more assets to his grandson and granddaughter-in-law upon his death, and if the grandson’s family was cut off, he’d leave more to her — such were the dark workings of her heart, even if it amounted to only a small patch of farmland.