Ballad of the Mountain Fox

제 35 장: Arirang Part 1

"Wh-what are we doing here, exactly? I thought we were supposed to be going to Miryang?"

I cursed under my breath and turned to one of the performers who I had, er, persuaded to come with me down the mountain. But my charms, weaker in this village, were not holding up as well as they should. Ever since I had sidetracked the performance troupe from their original destination, I had needed to renew their will to stay at least every half-hour, and it was more than tiring.

"We're going to perform, and make you famous," I answered with an enchanting smile. "Do you not want to become famous?"

The man looked confused as my words began to take effect. "Well, I..."

"And it would make me so happy," I continued, stepping closer and fluttering my eyelids. "I've just always wanted to sing for a crowd."

"Ah," the man's face softened into a slightly vacant smile. "Of course."

He turned to rejoin with his companions, and my smile soured to a sneer as soon as his back was turned. If it weren't for the restricting Joseon laws, I wouldn't need these imbeciles to begin with. But a proper woman wasn't supposed to sing for an audience, or really, entertain guests in any way. So I had surrounded myself with my "escorts" and done up my hair in the traditional gisaeng style. Although gisaeng were from the lowest class, they were at least allowed to educate themselves and sing and dance, and go out in public without a sseugae chima covering their heads.

In the mountain village, when I had last tried to perform, I hadn't been so concerned about laws, since the place was so isolated from the rest of society and I would have had no trouble escaping to my cave if needed. Here, however, there were too many people, and I was much farther from home.

"Now," I announced, walking over to my gayageum and sitting down. "Places, everyone."

I plucked a string, and nearly went deaf as the air around me burst into a cacophony of sound. One of the men on my right blew into his flute with all the force and grace of an angry bull, while the man next to him banged away mercilessly on his drum.

Possibly the worst sound came from the man on my left, a pansori singer who, instead of singing, alternated between loudly clearing his throat and shouting out "ah-ah-ah" in some poor imitation of a vocal warm-up. He sounded more like a dying gull than any kind of performer.

The less musically-inclined of the group began leaping around the rest of us, in what should have been a very graceful and elegant dance but ended up looking instead like a chain of uncoordinated frogs hopping in a circle.

People in the market began to stop and stare at us. Some laughed.

Our terrible excuse of a performance continued, drawing quite a crowd as people followed the noise to see what was going on. Other gisaeng entertainers who gathered began to glare in my direction, worried that I would put off business for the rest of them by making such a racket.

"What is going on here? Can there not be a moment of peace in this town?" A flash of red and black fabric from the magistrate's uniform caught my eye through the crowd.

I plucked on the gayageum again, and the dancers ceased their movements while the musicians mercifully fell silent. Glancing up once more, I caught sight of Kim Nara, and the pale-faced young noble on his horse beside her, as well. He had better not interrupt my performance this time.

I looked at the men beside me, who held their instruments at the ready and nodded once when meeting my eyes. I nodded back. It was time to end this madness, once and for all.