Chapter 3: Peony (3)
Seok-ha scowled, looking annoyed. “The Young Master is hosting a banquet tomorrow, and I’ve been ordered to move the flowers. These laborers are just like this; that’s why I’m here to keep them in line, isn’t it?”
It was true, but Seo-a hated this disrespectful crowd that showed no regard for her mistress. She tilted her chin up. “Move the flowers? I haven’t heard a word of this. Don’t you know these are the Mistress’s treasures? They aren’t things just anyone can touch. If you ruin them, selling you off wouldn’t cover the cost of a single leaf.”
“Why, you little—! This girl sure has a silver tongue for a mere maid.”
Seok-ha raised his eyebrows fiercely. “Do I need to report the Master’s business to a servant girl first? Know your place! Get out of the way right now, or I’ll tell the Master to sell you off!”
Not one to be outdone, Seo-a put her hands on her hips. “Who do you think you are? Know your place! Move aside, or I’ll tell the Mistress to sell you off!”
As the laborers burst into laughter, Seok-ha’s face turned from red to white to blue. He glared at Seo-a. “What are you looking at?” Seo-a met his gaze with a triumphant, contemptuous smirk.
If I can’t handle one little girl today, how will I survive in this house? Seok-ha smiled coldly. “Ignore her and go in. Push through whoever blocks you!”
As Seok-ha stepped back, two brawny laborers stepped forward. The pungent smell of their sweat and their serious expressions made Seo-a’s heart drop. She quickly grabbed the thick door bar to block the entrance. “How dare you!” she cried, her voice trembling.
Just then, a languid voice drifted from the gallery.
“Your name is Seok-ha, right? You bring a mob into my courtyard without permission, startle me, and then threaten to sell my maid? Did I hear that correctly?”
The voice was soft and smooth, pleasant to the ear. It was clearly a rebuke, yet it sounded as casual as everyday conversation. Everyone turned toward the gallery. A tall, slender woman with skin as white as snow stood there, her pomegranate-red skirt dazzling in the light.
So this is the Young Mistress who has been hidden away by illness for so long. Why did people say she was a sickly, unsightly woman?
Seok-ha had seen her a few times while serving Liu Chang. Since her severe illness last autumn, she hadn’t interfered in household affairs. He remembered when the concubine Byeok-o, emboldened by the Master’s favor and drink, had caused a scene at Moran’s door; Moran had simply ordered the door locked and ignored her. Even when the famous courtesan-turned-concubine Seom-so had “accidentally” spilled tea on Moran’s silk skirt to mock her, Moran had simply given her the skirt instead of getting angry.
Such behavior had even made the normally stern Madam Chi pity her, leading the Madam to scold Liu Chang several times for disturbing the household hierarchy.
Is the quiet Mistress finally showing her authority today? Seok-ha knew he wasn’t a favored concubine; if he offended her and Madam Chi found out, he would be in deep trouble. He stepped forward and bowed politely.
“I greet the Young Mistress. Please forgive me. I am only here on the Master’s orders to move the flowers. Seo-a misunderstood; I made a slip of the tongue in jest. Even if I had ten lives, I would never dare be so rude.”
Moran didn’t dwell on who was right or wrong. Instead, she asked, “Which pots did the Master ask for?”
Seok-ha listed them: “The Wei Purple, the Yao Yellow, the Jade Tower, the Purple Robe, and the Jade Dew.”
Moran nodded. “Seo-a, show Seok-ha which ones they are. Be careful not to damage the buds.”
Seo-a was upset that her mistress was letting these rude people off so easily, but she reluctantly led Seok-ha inside while keeping the rest of the laborers out. “One at a time! Don’t come in all at once. Your smell shouldn’t reach our Mistress.”
The laborers remained silent, stealing glances at Moran. She paid them no mind, slowly fanning herself with her white fan. “This pot with the Wei Purple is the most important, so handle it with extreme care.”
Seok-ha noted that the Wei Purple and the Jade Plate White were to be the stars of tomorrow’s banquet. The Wei Purple was particularly precious—thirty years old, three feet tall, and four feet wide. Usually, such old peonies were planted in the ground, but for the convenience of Moran’s dowry, it had been kept in a massive pot and tended to by expensive specialists. This year, it was in full bloom with twelve blossoms, each the size of a large bowl.
Seo-a snorted beside him. “Some people only see money when they look at such beauty. They can count petals and leaves, but they have no idea how to appreciate them.”
Seok-ha ignored her and inspected the Yao Yellow (the ‘King of Flowers’) and the Jade Tower with its tiered, translucent petals. He also checked the Jade Dew with its pure white stamens and the Purple Robe with its golden center. They were all exquisite.
As he finished his inspection, he glanced at Moran. Each of these flowers was worth over 500 coins; he thought it a waste that she kept such treasures to herself. Suddenly, Moran spoke.
“Seok-ha, I heard that last autumn, a cutting of a Wei Purple sold for a thousand nyang. Is that true?”
Startled that she was reading his thoughts, Seok-ha bowed. “It is true, Mistress.”
“I hear the Cho family in the north has a peony garden. They charge 50 coins just to enter, and they get hundreds of visitors a day?”
“That is also true.”
Moran approached him slowly, fanning herself. She wasn’t plump like the current trend of beauties, but she was captivating—tall, slender-waisted, and walking with a dignified, rhythmic grace.
“Have you been there?” she asked.
Seok-ha blushed and looked down. “I haven’t. The Master forbade the household staff from going.”
“I see,” Moran said with a hint of regret. “I wonder what it looks like inside.”
The scent lingering around her wasn’t heavy like the other concubines’ perfumes; it was a faint, natural peony fragrance. Seok-ha answered like a man possessed. “My sister went once. She said the peonies are planted by a large lake—near pavilions, bridges, and beneath strange rocks. You can see all the beauty by taking a boat around the lake.”
He added flatteringly, “But those are common varieties. They can’t compare to the rare treasures you have, Mistress. If you were to make such a garden, people would flock even if you charged 100 coins.”
Moran gave a charming smile and pointed her fan at him.
“What nonsense. If the Master knew you were making such a suggestion to me, he would have your head.”
Seok-ha turned pale. He knew she wasn’t exaggerating. Liu Chang was a man of high birth who knew nothing of the struggle for money and sought only pleasure. He romanticized his life with music, tea, and hunting.
However, after his father Liu Cheng-cai was nearly investigated for embezzlement, the Ha family had stepped in to pay the debt in exchange for marrying their daughter to Liu Chang. Since then, Liu Chang both loved and hated money. He maintained a high-society lifestyle and a nominal government post, but he detested the talk of money, preferring to act the part of a refined, noble aesthete.
If he found out a servant was encouraging his merchant-class wife to turn her dowry into a business, Seok-ha would be finished. Seeing the sweat on the boy’s nose, Moran laughed lightly, as if it were nothing.
