Chapter 16 ….
Mozart in Joseon
Jesam Yard
Woo-su (1)
Just as I was about to head for the main gate, someone appeared in front of me.
There was no one around—he must have jumped over the wall or something.
“A child?”
He looked at me, feigning surprise.
I suppose he was startled by how young I was.
“What are you doing without bringing him along?”
The madman scolded, and the man approached me.
I had no intention of being dragged away.
I stepped toward the main gate on my own, entering the grounds of Chunmongjae.
Once I turned the corner, a garden with a small pond came into view.
Martial men surrounded the pavilion, and on top were Eulji-su, three musicians, Danwol, and a man with his collar loosened.
It was clear at a glance that he had caused a disturbance.
Eulji-su and Danwol widened their eyes in shock at the sight of me.
“Master! No! Please return!”
When Eulji-su shouted, the madman raised a hand to stop her, then glanced at me and smirked.
“Bold little thing, but your voice is still delicate. How old are you this year?”
“Six years old.”
The madman waved his hand.
“Drive them out.”
“Yes.”
The men, appearing to be martial attendants, approached me.
I could not back down.
“I won’t go.”
I said this while looking at the madman.
“You insolent brat! Do you know what safety is, raising your head like that?”
A nearby martial attendant shouted.
“Leave him.”
The madman stopped the attendant and met my gaze.
“Why won’t you go?”
“The person over there, though a commoner, is my music teacher. To ignore my teacher in danger goes against what I have learned.”
It was not just out of respect for my teacher.
I had also been despised by royalty and nobles, so this was layered into my reasoning.
And Eulji-su still had much to teach me.
“A teacher, huh.”
The madman smirked.
“You’re peculiar. Judging by your family, you seem well-born, yet you consider a commoner your teacher.”
He scanned me from head to toe.
“So, your teacher failed, and you intend to take his place? Is that it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not it! Teacher? Preposterous! Master! Go beg for forgiveness and leave!”
Eulji-su cried.
A martial attendant pressed a sword against Eulji-su’s neck.
Whoever this madman was, a commoner had no right to interfere while a noble and another noble conversed.
Eulji-su must have known this.
She was probably risking her life with her actions.
The madman, however, paid no attention to Eulji-su and focused entirely on me.
“You’ve piqued my interest for once. Come up.”
The martial men parted the way.
I slowly ascended to the pavilion.
Eulji-su, threatened by the sword, sobbed with tears and snot running, while Danwol and the other musicians trembled on the ground.
“I like your audacity. So I’ll give you a chance.”
The madman placed his sword on the table.
“If you entertain me, he will be safe. If not, everyone here will meet their end today.”
He glared at me.
“Can you do it?”
“Yes.”
“Ha ha ha ha!”
The madman laughed heartily, striking the table.
“Now that’s a proper answer. Good. What do you need?”
“I need someone to perform with me on the geomungo.”
“Granted.”
I borrowed a geomungo, a suldae, and thimbles from the person with Eulji-su.
They were already tuned, so little adjustment was needed. I faked tuning them while organizing my thoughts and surveying the surroundings.
No one was outside the pavilion.
According to Eulji-su, this morning the madman had suddenly set this event, taking over this entire wide space.
And he had brought several martial men, so he was no ordinary noble.
At the very least, he must be royalty or someone of equal standing.
With such authority, he toyed with human lives.
But I had directed music at the emperor’s coronation and weddings, so I was not nervous about this.
The concern was the state of this madman.
Eulji-su’s performance outside the wall had been faster and more lively than any piece I had heard in Joseon.
Yet he drew his sword, claiming he was not entertained.
Observing closely, his eyes were darkened, clothes disheveled, and despite his threatening behavior, he seemed deeply anxious.
His unrest meant the fast, lively piece only fueled his unease.
What he sought was not excitement.
Fortunately, I found the right person to present a new piece.
“This is boring.”
The madman rested his chin on his hand.
“I’ll prepare shortly.”
I replied and approached Eulji-su, who shook her head frantically.
“Master, you mustn’t do this.”
“Snap out of it. Are you planning to stay still and die?”
“Yes, but—”
“Keep your mouth shut and follow my instructions.”
I picked up Eulji-su’s daegeum from afar and handed it to her.
“It’s simple. Repeat do, gak, chi along with my playing, like this.”
I clapped to set the rhythm.
Eulji-su was trembling and could not focus, so I pinched both her cheeks.
“Do you intend to leave your mother alone?”
Fear in her eyes gradually gave way to resolve.
“I cannot do that.”
“Then follow my instructions.”
Eulji-su took a deep breath several times and began playing the daegeum, repeating do, mi, sol.
“Next, like this.”
I added a few patterns, but being an experienced musician, she handled them with ease.
I hadn’t considered accompaniment much, as finding a partner was difficult.
From what I had observed, Eulji-su would follow along perfectly.
“After this, I’ll lead, just follow. Can you do it?”
“…I will.”
As I was about to stand, Eulji-su held me back.
“Master, this beat is too slow.”
Even after the earlier fast, lively piece, she worried the madman wouldn’t be satisfied.
I tapped Eulji-su’s shoulder and took my place, sitting before the geomungo and taking a deep breath.
I waited until the chirping of insects became steady, then plucked the strings.
Mo Chae-do – Geomungo Sonata No. 1
—Sleepless Night—
1st Movement: Very Slow
I plucked the strings with the suldae, connecting notes with my left hand.
The slowly flowing legato spread like the setting sun.
The man perched on the pavilion, dazzled by the glowing sunset, closed his eyes.
With a breath, it seemed as if the scent of lavender tea from my homeland floated with the wind.
Opening my eyes, a teacup of chrysanthemum tea sat before me. Could my homeland lie beyond the mountains the wind had crossed?
I quietly stood and walked.
Step by step.
Each step forward felt as though the mountains retreated a step.
The sun descended relentlessly despite my impatience.
Night finally came.
Weary and exhausted, the man collapsed beneath a tree.
The tea I had hidden in the insects’ sound sobbed quietly.
Moonlight fell through the leaves, awakening him.
High in the sky, it illuminated the path.
Pale, showing everything as it was, the moon lifted him.
Unlike the sun, too bright to face directly, only the moon consoled him.
“Even if it’s late, it’s alright. The path continues. Do not fear.”
It shone so he could await tomorrow, to fill the steps he had not reached during the day.
Quieter than sunlight. Warmer than sunshine.
Only after the final note scattered under the moonlight did I finish and open my eyes.
The madman sat with his head down, eyes closed.
He had fallen asleep.
Silence reigned; no one dared breathe.
Suddenly, the sword he had been holding dropped with a loud clang.
The madman woke.
“…Have I been asleep?”
“Yes.”
He moved his neck left and right and exhaled deeply.
“I haven’t slept well recently. How long has it been?”
“About half an hour.”
“By that measure, your body seems light.”
He sighed and seemed less mad. The frenzy he displayed before sleeping had vanished.
“You have a strange talent.”
He spoke to me.
“Explain what happened.”
“I observed that Your Excellency was anxious and considered any sound as noise. So I sought to console with slow rhythms and flowing melodies.”
“Even to your young eyes, did I appear that way?”
“Yes.”
The madman stared at me and chuckled.
“You’re better than the royal physician.”
“Physician? What is that?”
“Ha ha ha ha!”
He laughed heartily.
“Hearing your melody, I feel my burdens lift. Whose melody is this?”
“I composed it myself.”
“You did?”
“It is my melody, created to console my own frustrated heart.”
The madman rested his chin and leaned forward.
“What troubled you so to compose this piece?”
I could not tell him my homesickness—it was too far for him to understand.
“I wanted to make sound, but my fate keeps me in the palace, feeling constrained.”
“What did you say? Ha ha ha ha!”
He laughed loudly.
“I see. That moved your heart, did it? Indeed.”
“Have you experienced something similar?”
I asked, curious. He chuckled.
“I haven’t heard your name yet.”
Though calmer, he still had a rude attitude.
Technically, I was a noble too, but he ignored my questions and asked his own.
“…I am Gaedong.”
“Outrageous! Naming yourself after a commoner!”
I replied sullenly, and a nearby martial man shouted.
The madman waved his hand to stop him.
“I’ll ask again. Your name?”
“Mo Chae-do.”
“What?”
The madman’s eyes widened.
“What is your grandfather’s courtesy name?”
No matter how formidable he was, once he knew my grandfather, he could not treat me recklessly.
But if it became known that I was at Chunmongjae at this hour, it would be far worse than being locked in a room.
I hesitated but told the truth.
“He is Mo Dae-ja-hwan, Minister of Rites.”
The madman and his attendants appeared somewhat startled.
Indeed, knowing my grandfather’s name prevented them from treating me carelessly.
I might have no rice cakes or geomungo for a while after returning, though.
“This is troublesome.”
The madman stroked his chin in thought.
He had thought me mad, but clearly he would not harm the only grandson of the Minister of Rites.
The slightly less mad man rested his hands on his knees.
“Considering your talent and your grandfather, today’s rudeness will be forgiven.”
“Thank you.”
“One thing.”
The less mad man spoke threateningly.
“No one must know what happened today.”
He glanced around.
Everyone at Chunmongjae and Eulji-su remained cowering in fear.
“Agreed. I also wish it so.”
I replied, and the less mad man smirked.
Note: 1) Approximately one hour.
