“Oh goodness, is this another protest? We should take a different road,” SungSoo said.
“I don’t think so, that sounds like laughing. Maybe it’s some show?” The playwright, who liked spectacles, started heading in that direction. As they approached they could see that the crowd was whooping and clapping at something in the middle of the boulevard. They pushed their way to the front, and saw that it was a procession of about two dozen courtesans.
Each woman was dressed in a marvelous silk costume, tied together with a white sash that trailed behind them. On the sash was written the name of the courtesan and the name of the new restaurant MyungWol. Some of them carried baskets of flowers, and from time to time tossed a blossom at the adoring crowd.
“Incredible!” The playwright laughed. “How brilliant. MyungWol will be the talk of the town! We have to go there together soon.”
SungSoo had always enjoyed the sight of beautiful women, and he watched the courtesans with great interest. Then, in surprise, he froze. In the middle of the procession was the familiar yet changed face of Dani.
At first, SungSoo could only process her appearance in comparison to the one in his memory. Her round face had thinned, and her features had become more prominent. Her powdered skin looked like polished marble, though it had once been as fresh and rosy as a spring dawn. Her black-lined eyes, sharp cheekbones, and painted red lips gave her a formidable air. It was undeniable that she no longer looked young. Only the lively expression of her eyes, which showed a glimpse of the mysterious garden within her and seemed capable of looking into anyone’s soul, remained unchanged. But so, so unchanged! The moment he finally made that connection, he saw her as other people saw her: a resplendent woman against whom all other women simply paled.
How, in the seven years since coming back to Seoul, had he never seen her? The truth was that he’d long known she had become a courtesan, and a grand courtesan at that. In fact, it would have been impossible for him not to hear about her. In the capital, intellectuals, artists, writers, diplomats, and the like moved in just a few intricately connected circles, and they all loved beautiful courtesans, some more basely, and some more innocently. But, he admitted to himself, he had deliberately avoided running into her, and had stuck to parties where he knew she wouldn’t be entertaining. In his mind he had thought that their relations were finished a long time ago, and that it was useless to dig up old bones and try to make a broth out of them, so to speak. The best thing about the past was that it was behind you. So he never once wondered about her or indulged in fantasies of meeting her. Yet, when she was before his eyes, he suddenly felt troubled and did not know how to react.
“Have you met that one, Dani?” the playwright asked with a knowing smile, noticing SungSoo’s gaze.
“I knew her a long time ago,” he said. “She was a student back then.”
“A student?” The playwright raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
SungSoo explained how Dani’s mother—a celebrated courtesan herself—had retired when she became the second wife of an influential official.
“So a stepchild in a distinguished house. But if they sent her to school, why become a courtesan?” the playwright persisted.
SungSoo shrugged rather than implicate himself further in the story. He knew that Dani had been raised as a normal girl and was innocent when they met by chance in front of her school—she was never meant to become a courtesan. SungSoo had seduced her with implied promises and slipped away when he was called to study abroad. This had not troubled him, since he hadn’t explicitly said, I will marry you. He could never have chosen anyone other than a woman of unimpeachable birth and wealth—a woman with a certain aristocratic blandness, like his dutiful and contented wife. If Dani hadn’t realized that, it wasn’t his fault.
“She’s being kept by a very powerful protector, you know.” The playwright gave the name of a Japanese judge near the very pinnacle of law, who had evidently set her up in a two-story house and even given her diamonds. “So if you’re interested in her, you should know she is a forbidden fruit.” The playwright winked. “As they say, you can see it, but you can’t touch it. The good ones are always like that!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t, anyway,” SungSoo said, turning his eyes away with difficulty from the back of Dani’s red robes.