Suddenly, the phrase three visits to the thatched cottage came to mind.
This was a person introduced by none other than Oryang.
They stood before the gate.
From the height of horseback, the inside could be seen at a glance.
The yard spread wide.
The earth, holding sunlight, glowed yellow.
The marks of sweeping remained evenly across it.
Beneath the wall, a low earthen platform continued.
Upon it, a long flowerbed had been laid out.
Flowers of five colors bloomed in profusion.
Everywhere, there were traces of careful hands.
The white walls brightened the eyes, and the dark brown timbers held the lines firm.
The wooden floor shone, so smooth that one felt like lying down for a nap upon it.
The time spent rubbing and polishing it by hand remained plainly there.
In one corner of the yard stood an old stone lantern.
Unlit, it stood quietly as if taking a midday sleep.
The main house bent in an ㄱ shape, embracing the inside.
At the men's quarters, a raised wooden pavilion hung high.
It was a place where the wind rested first.
To the side, the servants' quarters stretched long from north to south.
Rooms were attached one by one, followed by storage spaces.
Compartments with hanging shelves continued along, and everything was arranged in order.
The inside and outside of the house meshed without disorder.
There was no place that did not show the touch of a hand.
"Is anyone there? Is anyone home?"
Dorogan dismounted at the gate and called out in a low, dignified voice.
The gate was open, but he did not enter.
"Is anyone there? Is anyone home?"
A slave with a white cloth wrapped around his forehead came running.
With a kind-looking face, he greeted them warmly.
"How have you come here?"
"This is the home of Han Sun-uk, yes?"
"That is so."
"This is Lee Yeongu, Jungnangjang of the Shin Guard Seonchunryeong Expeditionary Force. He has come to see Han Sun-uk."
The slave smiled faintly.
"He is not here at the moment."
"Has he gone somewhere far?"
The slave answered without losing his smile.
"Not far, but if you wish to see him here, you will have to wait quite a while."
"Hm. Our master must return to the main force far away in Buyeobu. He has little time. Is there no way?"
The slave looked up at Yeongu, who was still on horseback.
The force of one who had fought on the battlefield still remained about him.
Meeting his eyes gave a strong feeling that one might be scolded.
"In truth, on days with weather like this, he goes fishing. He will return only after the sun sets."
"Ah, dear."
Dorogan turned toward Yeongu.
"What shall we do?"
Yeongu asked, "Would it be rude to go find him at the fishing place?"
"No. It would not be rude, but would you be able to find it?"
"I see. Where did he go?"
The slave said, "I was just about to take his lunch to him."
It would take time, but the conversation was very warm.
"If it is not discourteous, we would like to follow behind you."
"Ah! Yes! But…"
A troubled look crossed the slave's face.
"That would be rude, then. Is that so?"
"It is not that. It is because the young lady will be going…"
"Ah…"
Yeongu had lived in a world where the distinction between men and women was faint.
At that moment, Dorogan understood the situation and pointed to his own horse.
"I will escort her."
At the words that he would escort her by horse, the slave's face brightened.
"Would that be all right?"
"Of course."
"I will go inside and ask."
A short while later, a woman came out carrying a wrapped lunch bundle.
She came out from the inner quarters with measured steps.
Dorogan quickly brought the horse forward and set it before the earthen platform.
A mongsu* was neatly placed over her head.
*Mongsu: A garment or practice of covering the head and face. A thin silk or cloth is lowered from the head to cover the forehead and cheeks, concealing the face. In the Goryeo period, it was used when going outside to shield oneself from gaze and maintain proper bearing.
Her hair, wrapped in silk, rose high, and the ornaments were arranged neatly.
Over it, thin silk flowed down.
The soft cloth of the mongsu descended from her head, covering her forehead and cheeks.
When light brushed it, the texture came alive, and when she moved, it followed like a wave.
Her jeogori was arranged to fit her body, and her skirt fell long.
A belt encircled her waist and held the line.
Over it, she wore a banbi**, and the hem of her clothing continued neatly.
**Banbi: A short-sleeved outer garment worn over a jeogori. The sleeves are short or almost absent. Its length reaches the waist or hips, and the front may be open or overlapped. In modern terms, it resembles a short-sleeved vest. Such outer garments were widely used under Chinese, especially Tang and Song, influence.
The outline of her face showed faintly through the silk.
Only the line of her eyes was dimly visible, while the rest sank behind the cloth.
Each time she moved her hand, the mongsu stirred with it.
When the wind brushed past, its edge rose lightly.
A person stood there, yet she was never fully revealed.
She was the young lady.
Yeongu took hold of the reins and stepped back, offering respect with a military salute.
At the firm, formal movement, the young lady lowered her head slightly.
Dorogan said, "I will escort you."
"Please do."
While Dorogan held the reins firmly, she mounted the horse.
As she climbed up, she swayed, and those watching felt their breath stop.
Dorogan handled it well.
After seeing that she had settled in the saddle, he looked toward Yeongu.
The lunch was placed by the slave on the back of the spare horse.
Dorogan led the way, and Yeongu followed at a respectful distance.
A forest path rose before them.
Great trees spread their leaves wide, and above them stretched a blue sky without a single cloud.
"This way."
The woman extended her fingertips from between her sleeves and indicated the direction, and Dorogan took the road accordingly.
Even the fierce northern horse blinked its eyes and moved along obediently.