“I’m the owner and director of Joseon Theatre. You made quite an impression today, Miss Jade! I saw your name on the program. I’ve never been so moved by—excuse me—a courtesan’s dance as I have been tonight. I’ve never thought much of the traditional dances, palace-style or otherwise—but you’ve changed my mind. People were moved to patriotism by your performance!” The director paused, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
“And I thought, I must convince you to join our in-house troupe. We perform seven nights a week here—tragedies, comedies, variety shows, storytelling . . . You name it. We have the best actors and actresses in Seoul. Anyone who becomes anyone in the city does so on our stage.” He smiled gratuitously, grasping both of Jade’s small white hands in his own big brown ones. Then looking about him, he noticed Lotus and turned his attention on her.
“And you’re that brilliant singer who sang that waltz. What a voice! I couldn’t believe my ears. You’re far better than the singers who are popular these days. They hit the notes but have no soul . . . I would very much like to speak to you as well,” the director said excitedly. “Well, what are we waiting for? Why don’t we go to the reception to talk all of this over? No, that would be too noisy and distracting, on second thought. Allow me to take you to a nice restaurant somewhere to discuss this over supper and some drinks,” he said, glancing back at Dani, for he noticed that the girls were looking inquiringly at her.
“Those are overflowing compliments, although I think we’re all quite tired after such a long night,” Dani said haughtily. She was irritated at barely being addressed, just as all such charming women are secretly slighted by not being the focus in a group. “But if you’d like to call on us tomorrow afternoon to discuss these things, we’d be honored,” she said, and rattled off their address.
“No, the honor is all mine. Tomorrow then, tomorrow,” he said, politely bowing his head a few times before taking his leave.
In the flurry of exchange with the director, JungHo had been nearly forgotten. Jade now turned to him and smiled, because after such an exciting conversation even Dani couldn’t darken the mood. In fact, she seemed to have decided that brushing over the past was the best policy. She even nodded curtly at JungHo before sweeping the girls away like a dignified hen.
“Goodbye, JungHo. You can come see me anytime. I’m always home at noon,” Jade whispered, giving him a light pat on the shoulder. JungHo looked like someone drowning in a sea of happiness. How lovely, easy, and natural it was to be reunited with him! Jade thought to herself before running to catch up with the others. Dani and Luna had already left on a rickshaw; Lotus was calling out to her from another one, driven by a young man in a worn black coat. He helped Jade up the carriage and then they were on their way, a soft wind grazing their ears and stars streaming up ahead.
“This is the most amazing night of my life! Jade, we’ll join Joseon Theatre! Who cares about pouring drinks for rich playboys. We’ll live like true artists!” Lotus shouted, grabbing her friend’s hand and shaking it up and down.
“It’s like a dream, isn’t it? We came here just with some small clothes in our arms . . . Do you remember how we were so little, the four of us all fit in one rickshaw?” Jade laughed. Her friend was on the verge of being known as the best singer in Seoul. And without any ambition or early promise, she herself had succeeded far beyond anyone’s expectations. At seventeen, it was impossible to imagine that anything other than triumphs and joys awaited her from this night forward.
They soon arrived in front of their house, and the driver helped them down from the rickshaw. He did this quickly and attentively, and without any slavishness or secret rudeness that sometimes characterized these laborers. While on the taller side and broad-shouldered, the rest of his body tapered rapidly even under his oversize coat, which was patched on the elbows with brown corduroy fabric. Noticing this, Jade was moved to sympathy, as often happens to people who feel particularly and unfairly blessed.
“You poor darling, you look like a student,” she said, gazing at his serious face. “Are you going to school?”
The rickshaw driver’s eyes, not large but attractive, lit up at her question. “Yes, I go to night school, miss,” he answered.
“So you work all day and evening, and go to school at night. Do you ever sleep?” Jade muttered with a smile. “Poor thing. We just did a benefit show to raise funds for a school for rickshaw drivers’ children. And my friend and I both had a very good night. Here, use this to buy yourself a new coat,” Jade said, handing him enough for an entire day’s work. She linked arms with Lotus and passed through the front gate, which the maid was holding open for them, hopping in place to keep warm. Jade was conscious of being watched by the rickshaw driver, which made her laugh louder and lean even more affectionately on Lotus.