As for herself, Jade didn’t know whether she’d like going anywhere. The occasion to wonder this had never arisen before, and her mind always drew a blank when it came to uncertainties. Even worse, she was not even naturally curious: the books she liked best didn’t teach her something new, they talked of things that she already understood just in a more beautiful way. Her imagination ran its circular course inside familiarities—a fountain rather than a river, particularly when it came to thinking about her own life. What else could she become besides what others wanted her to be? She was certain that Dani’s imagination would have been an entire sea even as a young girl. Jade guessed that she would not grow up to be half as splendid as Dani—and worse, that Dani thought this too.
At sundown, the train slowly rolled into Seoul station like a tired horse returning to the stable. Once they walked out, the soupiness of the air suddenly intensified, glowing orange and violet over the sprawling unknown. Jade was struck most of all by the strangeness of the people crowding around her. Of course, people in PyongYang were also unfamiliar to her, but as a group she’d recognized their looks, sounds, and expressions on their faces; she’d felt safe in their company. The collective of strangers in Seoul had a different aura, more self-possessed, purposeful, and indifferent, not unlike Dani herself. They impatiently sidestepped the girls and flooded the large square in front of the station where street vendors and rickshaw drivers vied for attention. Beyond this, there was a huge, freestanding stone arch topped with a blue-black tiled roof. Small stores and odd buildings huddled on its sides like puppies.
“That’s the Great South Gate,” Dani pointed out, when they’d gotten on a rickshaw. “It was built more than five hundred years ago into the walls of the castle, which were still there when I first came to Seoul. It was a sight to behold, back then. The Japanese knocked off the walls long ago. And none of those unsightly electric poles used to be there, either.”
The rickshaw driver started jogging, and the chaos of the station gradually receded.
“Are we going to go through the gate?” Jade asked, speaking up for the first time since leaving home.
“Why, of course we are,” Dani said. “A gate doesn’t cease to be a gate just because there are no walls around it. How else would you know you’ve arrived in Seoul?
“And besides, there’s nothing like going through an arch to raise your spirits. Just remember that when you’re down,” she said gleefully. Her ability to find strangely uplifting things was another one of her peculiar talents. “Here we go—you’ll see what I mean!”
And Jade did shiver with an inexplicable elation as the rickshaw passed under the arch and came out on the other side.
4
The Orphan
1918
EARLIER ON THE SAME DAY WHEN THE GIRLS ENTERED THE CITY, A BOY had also gone through the Great South Gate. The night before, he’d parted ways with some traveling merchants who had taken him in for a few weeks in exchange for carrying a pack and running small errands. They had given him two pennies, enough for sleeping in a communal room at the inn and a bowl of broth. Instead, he headed to a ditch by the side of the road just outside the Gate, resolving to eat only when he no longer had any strength left. Once he found a rounded groove on the ground, he curled himself on his side and hugged his knees to the chest. As if they’d been waiting for him, soft strands of green foxtail gently bent over him like a coverlet. The boy looked sideways up at the sky, which was richly black and resplendent with stars.
His father had been a man of few words, but before he died, he’d said that looking at the sky could make you fearless against anything. He had been a formidable hunter, but toward the end of his life he couldn’t walk out of his room. No matter what, take care of your sisters, he’d said, lying helplessly in his cot. Only the sprig of gray hair stood out from the rest of his body, which was as thin as a shadow. You’re the head of the family now. If you need courage, just look at the sky.
When the stars went to bed, the boy awoke to the smell of the sun warming up the earth. He rubbed his eyes and crawled out from the ditch to get his first good look at the city, which was then drenched in liquid orange light. Summer dawn in Seoul was electrifying but short, almost nonexistent. The scorching sun hurled itself above the horizon, drying the dewdrops in seconds, and the city rose up as if obeying its commands. Already, there was a line of carts, travelers, and laborers entering and leaving the Great South Gate. The boy cautiously joined the crowd going into the city. No one questioned his presence or even looked at him. He safely snuck underneath the cool shade of the arch and came out on the other side, to a wide road buzzing with streetcars and lined with tall, stately buildings in Western style. And though weak with hunger, he couldn’t help but smile. He reached for the drawstring pouch in his pocket and gave it a friendly squeeze, feeling the two pennies, a silver ring, and a cigarette case inside.