Beasts of a Little Land(34)
“But why poison him? He’s already been deposed many years, and his son is a mere puppet,” SungSoo said.
“Who knows? But I think, most likely, to let us know that they can kill our sovereign without consequences, just as they assassinated his wife, the empress . . .” MyungBo paused, glancing at Dani, who looked alarmingly pale. “Miss Dani is ill. The news is so shocking . . .”
“I’m all right. I’ll feel better if I have a little drink,” she replied, and ordered Hesoon to bring her a bottle of soju and three glasses. The maid soon returned with the drink, a bowl of refreshing white kimchi and other snacks, and set the tray down in front of Dani. At her urging, MyungBo sat down as well. Dani first poured for the two men, and then SungSoo poured for her, and they raised their glasses at the same time, murmuring, “To His Majesty.”
Once the soju had circulated through their bodies, each began to feel more comfortable—not about the emperor’s death, but the situation among themselves. It is always excruciating to discover that one’s distinct connections, who ought to belong firmly and chastely in separate spheres of one’s life, are somehow acquainted, and perhaps more intimately than one would like. Each of them keenly suffered from this, though SungSoo in particular took this as an insult and a betrayal. His good breeding and the soothing effects of soju were the only things that kept him from succumbing to the jealousy that burned deeply in his chest.
“So what happens now?” Dani asked MyungBo, revived a bit from the soju.
“You know that we’ve been preparing for the demonstration . . .” he began carefully, wondering whether he could be more forthcoming in SungSoo’s presence. Then, making up his mind to be direct, he said, “It probably means we will gather our forces earlier than we’d planned. In about a month, around His Majesty’s funeral, when the crowds gather in Seoul to pay their respects.”
“But are you ready? Can everything come together before then?” Dani questioned while pouring another round for the two men. This time, MyungBo took the bottle from Dani and poured her drink for her. The gesture was customary, as one must never pour one’s own drink, but nonetheless it roiled SungSoo with its intimacy.
“That’s also why I came to see you. I immediately realized that things will start to move very quickly, and I didn’t know whom I may possibly trust, except you.”
After he finished, MyungBo downed his soju without meeting the eyes of either of his companions.
“Please, tell me how I can be of any help,” Dani pleaded. “What is needed?”
MyungBo’s face crimsoned at once. Already wounded by the death of the emperor, he was shocked once more at finding SungSoo at Dani’s house, and somehow strangely hurt as well. Now he was humiliated by having to ask again for favors in plain view of the man who had already refused him so coldly. He focused on the candlelight dancing inside his cup of soju in order to avoid looking at either of the lovers in the eyes.
“We plan on making the demonstration peaceful. For that we would need to prepare only the manifestos, and as many Korean flags as we can manage. But without a doubt, we will need to be ready for whatever comes after the demonstration. That means guns, safe houses, transportation for countless activists and messengers . . . And then again, that’s not even including the preparation for the outbreak of direct military combat. Not just in Manchuria, where most of our remaining troops are, but in Korea itself. If we succeed in gathering enough force, there will be a definite war within our borders, for the first time in more than twenty years.”
“I understand.” Dani nodded. “I haven’t been idle since our meeting. I’ve personally met with each of the guild leaders. You’ll be heartened to know that they’ve all pledged a third of their earnings this month, to begin with.” She smiled, her cheeks flushing beautifully. The presence of the two men had put her in a feverish—yet not wholly unpleasant—state of mind. For one, MyungBo’s visible discomfort confirmed to her that he was jealous of SungSoo. Even with grave issues at stake, she couldn’t help but feel rather delighted.
“When the five courtesan guilds of Seoul pool their money together, you’ll see that it’s not an insignificant sum, even when we’re talking about war. You see, people look down on us for how we make our living, but we have our honor. Actually, I’ve never been so glad as I am now to be able to help in my own small way . . .” Dani’s voice trailed away and her eyes welled up. She was quite overcome with emotion, although it was unclear even to her whether that gladness was purely from contributing to the movement, or from other, less selfless causes.
She sipped on her soju, and explained when and how she may be able to transfer the money to him in the coming weeks. As MyungBo thanked her in the most effusive but dignified manner, Dani turned to SungSoo and innocently asked, “Well, isn’t there something you could do as well?”
SungSoo, blindsided by this question, blurted out, “Me?”
“You must surely be able to contribute something, you of all people,” Dani persisted.
“That’s all my family’s money, don’t you see . . . I myself don’t make very much,” SungSoo protested rapidly. “As it is, I’m spending endlessly on my publishing house and the bicycle shop, neither of which have ever been profitable.” Dani’s face lit up unexpectedly.