She was looking at him with such loving and innocent eyes. She was completely selfless in her offer, and wasn’t seeking anything in return. He kissed her hands and said, “I don’t deserve you.”
He had been considering dropping out of night school altogether rather than struggling for another six or seven years, just to get a shot at university. He had been looking at a lifetime of driving rickshaws or, when those became obsolete, becoming a hard laborer carrying bricks on his back seven days a week until his death.
Jade not only paid for his school fees, but also covered the living cost for him and his family. Unable to explain that a courtesan-actress was his benefactress, he told his mother that he’d won a scholarship. She replied, “At last you are starting to live up to your potential. But don’t become arrogant and slack off. You mustn’t rest until you’re admitted—our family depends on your success.”
HanChol went to school nine hours a day and studied at home even longer, often until after the night birds fell silent. Sometimes he found himself reading until sunrise. But after running around the city every day for years, simply learning in his seat was something he could do gladly. He caught up on several years’ worth of education in just a year and finally took the university entrance exam.
The results were announced in the newspapers, and when he saw his name near the top out of all the students in the country, he was exhilarated to the point of tears by two things: first, that his life could have gone the path of abyss or that of success, and that it had taken a decisive and irrevocable turn toward the latter; second, that he had done this all on his own.
17
Café Seahorn
1933
WHEN YOUNGGU HAD FINALLY GOTTEN THE COURAGE TO ASK THE RESTAURANT owner for his daughter’s hand in marriage, JungHo had offered to make the match. But YoungGu had refused.
“JungHo, you know I’d trust you with my very life,” he’d said. “But I’m worried you’re going to speak with your fist again. That won’t do for the father of my future bride.”
He’d also ruled out eloping, although stealing a bride was a rather time-honored practice among men who couldn’t pay the dowry. Instead he went to the father, knelt on his floor, and asked for his blessing. He begged for forgiveness for coming into his home and taking advantage of his restaurant, and promised to work to repay the debt.
“You hooligans have ruined my life for years and now you rob me of my daughter too? Is this some kind of a sick joke?” the father shouted. “Fine, if you really can’t live without her, as you say, go out there and kneel in the courtyard. If you get up before I say you can, you won’t lay a finger on my daughter. And trust me, I’ll know if you get up for even a second!”
YoungGu obediently left the room and knelt in the dead center of the busy courtyard, while restaurant workers looked on and gossiped, neighbors peeked over the walls to laugh, the girl cried miserably in her own room, and his loyal dog tied to the chestnut tree barked his heart out, sensing something grave had fallen on his master. The commotion was extraordinary. But YoungGu stayed in his spot, shins digging into the dirt, head bowed in penitence, and did not get up the entire night. The next morning, a servant was trying to convince him to just give up when he collapsed and sprawled out on the spot.
Finally, the father came out of his room, shook him by the shoulders, and said, “If you swear to sever all ties with your gang of hooligans, especially that red commie JungHo, and to work hard like an honest man from this point forward . . .” He couldn’t finish his words, because the idea of giving his most adored daughter to this wretch was still so appalling. Then he remembered the old saying that there is no parent who can win against his own child.
“Thank you, Father,” YoungGu whispered faintly. “I will take good care of her.”
From that point on, YoungGu had ostensibly dropped out of the group. He stopped going to the meetings and doing JungHo’s work and started helping out at the restaurant. Soon, he was managing the place instead of his old father-in-law, who had softened with time and the birth of his beloved granddaughter.