Chapter 06
The unusually long winter finally came to an end. Even in a place that felt like a tomb of despair, spring arrived—flowers blooming wherever sunlight touched, butterflies fluttering freely above them.
Sohwa had no father, no brother, no fiancé to congratulate her. That spring, that birthday, the arrival of her twenties—she welcomed them surrounded by more tears than laughter. And yet, even with spring’s return, nothing truly changed. There was still no news of her younger brother or of Juan, and the grueling labor continued without pause.
How do those women get food while doing nothing?
The question occurred to Sohwa only after she had grown somewhat accustomed to this life. It was about the so-called “playing women” who began appearing in early spring. While the people of Muyeon tirelessly broke stones, carried loads, and repaired the fortress walls, a group of neatly dressed women spent their days chatting and lounging in the shade.
And yet, when work ended, those women received twice as much food as everyone else.
Those who didn’t work were not supposed to receive any rations at all—so how was this possible? Why did the Toya soldiers feed them so generously?
“Flower girl,” Sohwa asked quietly, “how do those women get so much food when they don’t work?”
No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t understand. So she asked Kkotbun. Part of her felt ashamed of her curiosity, but another part couldn’t help it. If she could receive even half as much food as those women, her sick mother might be able to eat properly for once.
But Kkotbun’s response was cold, her face dark.
“What? Do you think that’s a good thing? Don’t pay attention to it. Not even a little. It’s something very bad—and very dangerous.”
“Why? What is it?”
“You don’t need to know, miss.”
As if they had agreed beforehand, both Kkotbun and Pandong fell silent, refusing to explain further. Sohwa remained in the dark. Days passed as usual—breaking stones, hauling rocks, sweat soaking her clothes. Meanwhile, the number of women who spent their days “playing” continued to grow.
Bokrye, Sohwa’s former slave, had been absent for some time. Then one day, she appeared among them. When Kkotbun saw her, she cursed under her breath, calling her mad.
Two days later—
“Miss Sohwa.”
Sohwa was washing clothes alone by the stream when Bokrye suddenly appeared beside her. Kkotbun was away, working on a bridge.
“Bokrye! You scared me. You disappeared all of a sudden—what happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Really.”
They weren’t just empty words. Bokrye looked well—her face clean, her clothes tidy, and she even smelled faintly pleasant. At a glance, Sohwa looked like the slave, and Bokrye like a mistress of the household.
“Would you like to come with me, miss?”
“Huh? Me too?”
“If you come, you’ll get three proper meals a day. You’ll sleep in a clean place. Don’t you want to take care of your mother somewhere decent? She’s not well—and how long can you keep nursing her in that filthy tent?”
Bokrye’s words were painfully reasonable. For Lady Baek-hwa, living in a squalid tent was torment. The lack of improvement in her condition was likely due, in no small part, to that environment.
“But Kkotbun said it was dangerous… She said not to pay attention to it.”
“Miss, how many times has she said things like that? When we first came to Sari Village, she warned you not to go because it was dangerous.”
That much was true. Kkotbun had always been fearful, always saying this was dangerous, that was dangerous. Don’t go near the kitchen—you might get burned. Don’t touch your brothers’ knives—you might cut yourself. Never go near Sari Village—the Taoist priests are dangerous.
And yet, nothing had happened. The fire hadn’t burned her, the knives hadn’t cut her, and Sari Village itself hadn’t swallowed her whole. More than anything, Bokrye wasn’t the sort of person to fail at something she set her mind to. Hadn’t she quickly learned to break stones and do laundry, even though she struggled at first?
“I want to go with you,” Sohwa said slowly, “but would they really give such a good position to just anyone?”
“Not everyone can become a ‘lady.’ But you can. In fact, several Taoist priests asked me specifically to bring you.”
“What? The Taoists… want me? Why?”
The thought that the Taoists had been watching her sent a chill through Sohwa. Bokrye only smiled, her expression unreadable. She gently took the laundry from Sohwa’s hands and set it aside.
“Someone else will do this. Come with me.”
She stood and urged Sohwa to follow. Sohwa hesitated—only briefly. If I can get more food, she thought, Kkotbun will be relieved. And so she followed Bokrye.
“The Toya lords are truly kind,” Bokrye chattered as they walked. “Much better than the men of Muyeon, if you ask me.”
All along the way, she sang the praises of the Toya soldiers. Sohwa thought she must have enjoyed herself quite a bit during her time with them.
“Have you ever wondered about Taoist priests?” Bokrye asked suddenly.
“Well… I suppose.”
“Do you know why Taoist priests don’t have beards?”
“Now that you mention it… you’re right. I’ve never seen a bearded one.”
The men of Toya County, regardless of age, were all clean-shaven. At first, Sohwa had assumed they were simply young, but even middle-aged men with lined faces were the same. It was strange—men past twenty usually had beards—but she’d never given it much thought. With such exhausting labor day after day, who had the leisure to ponder small curiosities?
“There’s an interesting reason,” Bokrye said. “The Hanya region is extremely cold, you see. If you grow a beard there, your breath freezes and sticks to it. It’s so inconvenient that a clean-shaven culture developed. Personally, I like it. Without a beard, I look younger—tidier. Like a boy.”
“I see. That is interesting.”
“Right? You’ll hear many more interesting stories if you come.”
They soon arrived at a cluster of barracks on the outskirts of Sari Village—the living quarters of the Toya Army who governed the area.
“Shall we bathe first, miss?”
“A… bath?”
“Yes. Since you’ll be meeting the Toya lords, it’s better to be clean.”
Bokrye led Sohwa into a bathing room. She filled a wooden tub with water and dropped a red pebble into it. In an instant, the water began to boil, steam billowing upward.
Sohwa’s eyes widened.
“My heavens… Bokrye, did you learn Taoist arts? What is this?”
“It’s not me,” Bokrye laughed. “It’s the stone. It’s called a warming stone. Put it in water, and it heats up instantly.”
“Then if you put it in the sea, would the sea boil too?”
“Oh, miss!” Bokrye laughed again. “The sea is far too big. It only works for about this much water. Now, please undress and get in.”
Sohwa slipped into the tub. The moment her body sank into the hot water, a sigh escaped her lips. How long had it been since she’d soaked in warm water like this? In the past, even in the depths of winter, she’d bathed every few days. Now, she barely had time to wash herself at all. It felt like heaven.
Bokrye added fragrant oils to the water.
“Doesn’t it feel wonderful? If you stay here, you can bathe every day.”
“Every day…? Even back in Muyeon, that would’ve been impossible.”
“Here, it’s possible.”
Though it seemed strange, the warmth and comfort dulled Sohwa’s doubts. After the bath, Bokrye dressed her in clean clothes and brushed her hair. With just a few strokes, her hair dried quickly, light and soft.
“How did it dry so fast?”
“This is a wind comb. It dries hair quickly. Taoist priests sell all sorts of strange tools like this—and make a fortune doing so. All done. Miss, look in the mirror.”
She held out a small hand mirror.
Reflected there was not the filthy, exhausted fallen noblewoman of recent days, but Sohwa as she once was—bright and composed. She looked thinner, more worn than before, but she was unmistakably herself.
“Now,” Bokrye said, smiling, “let’s go meet the Toya lords. Follow me, miss.”
They walked for a while before turning onto a secluded path. Though it was midday, the sky was blocked out, leaving the road dim. Red lanterns hung at intervals, casting a faint, unsettling glow.
“…You work here?” Sohwa murmured.
Only then did a sense of unease truly take hold. She didn’t know what kind of work was done in this place—but instinctively, revulsion crept over her skin. Kkotbun’s warning echoed in her mind: very bad, very dangerous.
When Sohwa stopped walking, Bokrye turned back to look at her.
