Chastity
Author: Kim You-jeong
Source: Jogwang October Issue (1936)

The master's wife was rotting to the core because of the servant woman. Telling her to leave wouldn't make her go obediently, but keeping her around and watching her was so despicable that every day felt suffocating. The servant woman's bad habits were clearly instilled by the master.

The wife would sit with her legs crossed in front of her husband, who was still under the covers, and pester him every morning. Because, other than the morning, she never had a quiet moment to face her husband, who was always out philandering. To top it off, she would shake the man whose face was red and drooping, unable to sober up from drinking all night, and say,

"Honey! Are you asleep? It's past ten thirty. Gather your senses." Her tone of pushing him was not exactly affectionate.

Then, the master, already guessing what she was getting at, wouldn't even try to open a single eye. Of course, he was dead drunk most of the time and couldn't hear her, but even when she spoke in such a loud voice that he couldn't help but hear, he still pretended not to. At this point, the wife would get even more provoked by her own frustration, and thinking 'surely not this time,' she would say,

"Come on, honey! If you've caused a mess, you have to deal with it one way or another, don't you?"

"Well, let it go, I don't want to hear it," he finally groaned, frowning.

"If you don't want to hear it, what am I supposed to do? It's so sore on my eyes I can't bear to watch it. Shouldn't she at least do her chores? How can a mere servant try to hold the master in her clutches and boss him around?"

"I said I don't want to hear it."

He shouted loudly like this, but because he was fundamentally in the wrong, he smoothly changed the subject,
"Hurry up and go prepare breakfast."

"I can't do anything about it no matter what, so whether you kick her out or deal with her..." As her words began to trail off gently,

"What on earth am I supposed to do about a servant!"

"Can't you shut your trap?"

At this, the master finally had no choice but to sit bolt upright like a man with a fever. At the same time, a brass ashtray flew through the air, hit the wall, and fell with a loud, clattering crash.

If he didn't go to these lengths, the master had no way to shake off the terrible, disgusting memories floating in his head. In truth, if he let his wife keep blabbering, he was terrified of what might come out of her mouth, and if the servant woman happened to be eavesdropping outside the sliding door and caught on to this mood, he would undoubtedly expose his own ridiculous situation even further.

After his wife went out, the master sat blankly and tried to swallow his bitter saliva, but even that wouldn't go down easily. With hands shaking from alcohol tremors, he gulped down the cold water by his pillow, crawled back under the covers, and tried to close his eyes. It was because he felt the unpleasant thoughts might lessen if he fell asleep. However, not only did his eyes remain wide awake, but all sorts of evil spirits appeared behind his closed eyelids. A beggar ghost with disheveled hair and long fingernails, a lion ghost with sprouted horns, a fox ghost giggling while waving its long tail. One of them, with one eye completely crushed, still acted coy as if it liked him, saying,
"Oh, Master," and when it rushed at him, this time a stump ghost with no legs sat blankly over there and glared at him, shouting, "You rascal!" Even if their appearances differed, their true nature was probably all the same.

(Ugh, damn wenches!)

The master shuddered, sat bolt upright, and lit a cigarette. A chill ran down his spine, and cold sweat poured out profusely. That was bad enough, but from the kitchen, he could hear the sound of breaking dishes along with his wife screaming, seemingly getting into an argument with the servant woman again. He couldn't know the exact details, but,
"Are you crawling around?" to which,
"I can't move around quickly," came the servant woman's blunt reply...

Even just hearing the servant woman's voice made the master shudder and feel his limbs shrivel up. And,
(Ah, ah! What did I see in her to do that? That dark red face, those pale blue, thick lips, and worse yet, that sour pickled radish smell radiating from her, and that grime-covered body that looks like it's never seen clear water in its life? Ugh, hideous! Hideous, what did I see in her? It was the alcohol. Alcohol. It was definitely the alcohol's fault.) He couldn't help but blame the innocent alcohol once again.

Ah, even though he tried not to think about it, the ugly memory of what happened around daybreak spun wildly in his chaotic head.

Indeed, around dawn when he reached the house, he was so drunk that the sky and earth seemed to move, and his eyes were completely out of focus. He stumbled getting out of the taxi, fell, tried to get up, bumped against the stone wall next to him, and bruised his face—it was absolutely clear he was utterly intoxicated. However, to the servant woman who opened the gate and stood there waiting,
"Is she back?"
"Not yet, it seems she's going to stay a few days before returning."

It wasn't entirely without premeditation that he then felt relieved, grabbed her waist, and dragged her into the servant's room. After all, what truly drunk person would remember that his wife had gone out that morning, greeting him to say she was visiting her hometown across the way for a bit? But perhaps the wench's behavior was even more wicked. Ever since before, she would laugh pointlessly, cast flirtatious glances at him, and boldly thrust her pathetic face into his room.

"I want to live with you, Master. For some reason, I just feel good whenever I see you."
"Sure, sure, let's live together!"
"I don't expect much. Just buy me a house, and I'll keep house for you as long as you want."
And, wrapping her arms around his neck acting as pretty as possible,
"Isn't that right, Master? Am I a gisaeng concubine, or a young concubine, to expect more?"

What was even more brazen was her attitude when she made excuses later. When his wife caught on to this, freaked out, ran out, and dragged him away, what did the servant woman say? She stood there panting, looking even more furious than the wife, glaring with her eyes wide open,
"A servant is meant to be put to work, are you supposed to do this to her?"
Didn't she yell right at them like this? Not only that, but the wench who used to pretend she was dying of intimidation just looking at him suddenly changed her tune,
"You're lucky my husband isn't here; if he knew about this, he wouldn't let it slide. Don't look down on me too much just because I'm poor."

Of course, this was partly to save her own face in front of her mistress, but regardless, she was an incredibly brazen wench. And even after that, wasn't it also that wench who, the very next night, grabbed the drunk man as soon as he entered the gate and dragged him into the servant's room? But thinking it through carefully, he had no choice but to blame it all on his own lack of discipline,
(If I just cross one threshold, I have a beautiful and clean wife waiting, so what did I see in her?)
Thinking like this made his stomach turn so much he felt nauseous.

But it was already spilt milk, impossible to gather back up, and he couldn't even dare to figure out what to do. Unable to think of a solution, the master helplessly called his wife back with a desperate voice. And with an almost miserable expression,
"Honey, let's say I made a mistake. What's the point of being angry when it's already done?" He let out an agonizing sigh.
"Even so, I don't have the face to step up and tell her to leave or not, so consider it saving my life and quietly call her in, give her 10 won, and make her leave."
"She won't listen to my words when you're the one who can't kick her out?"
His wife retorted sharply like this as payback for him yelling at her earlier, but,
"If this gets out to my friends, I won't be able to show my face outside the gate, so please think it over and handle it," he pleaded, completely deflated. At this point, she couldn't help but mutter to herself, "Why on earth give that wench money!" and walk outside. If she provoked him further, the ashtray would fly through the air again, and making a commotion in the house would only lead to more embarrassment.

The wife crouched at the edge of the wooden floor and sent a servant girl to call the servant woman. Thinking it over again, the servant woman was certainly despicable, but a husband who completely lost his senses over any woman was just as bad. Besides herself, his legal wife, he had set up a gisaeng concubine in Suha-dong and even had a student concubine in Cheongjin-dong to whom he provided rice and firewood to visit. With such flower-like women in front of him, she couldn't fathom why he would go after the servant woman,
(It's not like she even has good looks, what did he see in that face? Ugh, hideous!) The wife couldn't help but feel just as nauseated as he did.

However, in these matters, it was always the woman who wagged her tail first. Thinking like that, she had to conclude that this servant wench was even more wicked. When she first arrived, hadn't the wife felt a bit of pity for her when she shivered and complained the room was cold, saying it had only been a few days since she moved up from the countryside? The wife had kept her thinking she would be easier to boss around because she was from the countryside, but in less than ten days, she was putting white powder on her dark face, applying oil to her hair, and wearing her skirt twisted to the side. Seeing her strut around like that, she was quite a shrewd woman even if she had grown up in Seoul. Even so, when told to work, she used to pretend she was dying just going to the outhouse, but after her behavior went bad, she wouldn't even smoothly do the floor-wiping that she was supposed to do. And wasn't she the wench who, when sent to buy a pound of meat, would purposely stay out for half a day just to get on the mistress's nerves?

"Are your legs glued together?"
When the wife, absolutely dumbfounded, scolded her like this,
"I can't walk fast no matter what's going on in the world!"
Wasn't this the wench who retorted with a sullen voice, her eyes twitching upward? That wasn't all. Whenever the wife happened to sleep with the master, wasn't it this wench who, without even being asked, would sneak in the middle of the night, light a roaring fire in the flues, burn the mattress, and roast their naked bodies?

But thinking about it, that husband of hers who did manual labor might be even more wicked.
With this wench's own mindset, she wouldn't have the audacity to just lie flat on her back for days, claiming she was pregnant, and eat the food brought to her. When the wife, boiling with anger, called the servant woman in and scolded,
"What kind of person are you to be so haughty? You lie down saying you're sick, lie down saying you're pregnant, lie down saying you're sleepy. Who is supposed to do the work then?"
When she furiously yelled at her like this until her eyes nearly popped out,
"How can a pregnant person work? Oh, what a thing to say! Doesn't the mistress also not work even when she's not pregnant?" Looking at her glaring straight back, it didn't seem like these words came from her own mind. Wasn't this the same wench who used to tremble and stutter even when a policeman came for a census and asked her name? Thinking about this, the wife felt so resentful that she was being played by these two wretches,
"So, are you saying you want to be treated like the mistress of the house?"
"Oh, what nonsense are you saying? Who asked to be treated like the mistress?"
The servant woman wrinkled her nose as if she too found it utterly absurd,
"I'm asking how a pregnant person is supposed to move her body? Mistress, you are being too harsh!"
"Pregnant, pregnant, whose child are you pregnant with to act so ridiculously?" When the wife yelled in a fit of fiery anger,
"What do you mean whose child? Mistress! You shouldn't speak so recklessly. Who knows what human affairs will bring, whether the child will grow up to be a young master or a master?"
She retorted loudly, not falling behind her husband, acting as if she had been insulted. At these words, not only the wife's heart but her entire body flinched. Though unspoken, the wench's tone darkly hinted it might be the master's child, but even if that were true, in reality, her belly would only be as big as a full-term pregnancy if she were near her delivery date. Seeing her make such a huge fuss with a belly that couldn't be more than five months along, acting as if it were undoubtedly the master's child, made the wife want to rush over and slap her face, yet at the same time, she couldn't help but feel her chest tighten with anxiety about potential future repercussions.

(Today, I'll definitely...)
The wife firmly made up her mind and shot a fierce glare at the servant woman as she entered the middle gate. However, knowing that snapping at her would only decrease the chances of getting her to leave, she eventually used a pleasant tone,
"Look here, I know it's a bit sudden to say this to you," she cleared her throat politely,
"I feel bad telling you to leave. It's not because I hate you or anything that I'm kicking you out. I'd just have to bring someone else in your place anyway, wouldn't I? It's not that, but as you know, you see all those household goods piled up in the yard? It's going to snow soon, and how are we supposed to manage it? I couldn't think of anything else but to stack them up in the servant's room, so I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to empty the room."
"But it's going to get colder, how can I leave so suddenly?"
The servant woman's wide eyes grew even wider in confusion at the unexpected order, but,
"That's why I'm saying this. It's not something that happens often, but I'll give you 10 won, so use this to find a room and move out," handing over the large bill with a patronizing air.
"Well, I don't know, but I probably can't leave right away," she hesitated, taking the money, but she couldn't help but gladly hurry back to the servant's room. The wife also finally felt relieved, thinking, 'That gets rid of you,' but in less than five minutes, the servant woman rushed back in, put the money down, and said,
"I thought about it again, and I can't leave. Shouldn't I at least deliver the baby and wait a couple of months before moving? How can I move in this condition?" When she brazenly changed her tune, the wife's heart sank again. It was obvious this wench had gone to the servant's room, listened to her husband's coaching, and come back to do this. Knowing she was in no position to argue further, the wife couldn't help but stand there dumbfounded, holding the money.

Only after a long while did she go into the inner room, report everything to the master in detail, and sigh with frustration,
"I can't do any more. Whether you kick her out or whatever, you handle it!"
"How foolishly did you handle it that you couldn't even make her leave after giving her money? Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!"
The master clicked his tongue, glaring with furious eyes. He made it seem as if the failure to kick the servant woman out was due to his wife's lack of eloquence. He glared at his wife silently for a moment, then,
"Get out! I don't want to see you!" he suddenly burst into a pointless rage, but even while raging, he was so terrified the servant's room might hear him that he put on a loud front, burning up inside with his own frustration.

And understandably so, because of this, the master couldn't show his face outside for four days. Not only was the wench who smirked at him a problem, but that husband of hers, the servant who obsequiously bowed to him for no reason, was even more sly and wicked, making it terrifying just to look at him. The master pulled the blanket over his head, swatting away various ghosts with his hands, groaning, "Ugh! Ugh!" as if he were sick. And without even eating properly, he just relentlessly tormented his innocent wife.
"Why is the water so cold? Why don't you just bring me ice."
Sometimes,
"Who told you to light the fire in the room? Are you trying to boil me to death?"
These inexplicable complaints kept coming out of him.

Since the wife had experienced the master falling ill like this several times before, it was reasonable for her to think he had just gotten sick from staying up several nights and drinking. She felt sorry for him, thinking he couldn't even properly manage the wealth his parents left him and was acting like this, but still worried his health would deteriorate, she was boiling gruel on the stove when,
"Mistress, I will be moving out today," the servant woman approached her. Not knowing what was going on, the wife asked in a bewildered tone,
"How did you come to leave like this?"
"Yes! We've sorted out the advance rent and everything, so we're trying to move our belongings now," the servant woman said, picking up a bundle of straw rope from the inner courtyard. She seemed so excited that she didn't even bother to gather the back of her skirt, rushing out wildly like a crazy woman.

Watching this, the wife felt relieved, like a rotten tooth had been pulled, but at the same time, the wench's sudden haste to leave felt strange.
For this wench, who normally wouldn't even dust off her own sitting cushion, to suddenly shake everything off and leave, there had to be some ulterior motive. Shortly after, burning with curiosity, the wife went out to the gate and saw that the servant couple had loaded all their luggage onto a handcart. Seeing the servant woman carrying small household items in a basket, getting ready to say her goodbyes, she asked,
"Are you going to be a servant again?"
"Do you think I only do servant work day and night?" she retorted, pulling rank on the mistress who had oppressed her until now.
"Then to a rented room?"
"Why a rented room again? I'm going to start a business!" she scoffed as if to say, 'I'm just as good as you now.'
"A business? Don't you need capital for that?"
"I'm going to open a cup-liquor tavern, so about 200 won should do. Why would I need more?" she spat out haughtily as if to show off, and followed the handcart out of the alley.

The wife watched closely and realized the wench was definitely acting high and mighty with about 200 won in her hands. If that were the case, last evening when she was busy boiling medicine in the backyard, the wench had barged into the inner room and stayed for a long time. It was certain she had an exchange with the master then and the money was given and received at that time. Otherwise, she wouldn't have left so obediently, and where else would she get 200 won out of the blue?

Thinking about it that way, he had ignored her when she begged so much to buy that modern wardrobe which only cost 70 won, yet what exactly was this servant woman to him that he would so generously hand over 200 won? She instantly felt furious and resentful. With bloodshot eyes, the wife stormed furiously into the inner room,
"Did you give that wench 200 won?"
She let out a sharp cry. But the master lay there without a word, only smacking his lips, making the wife even more feverishly agitated,
"Do you even know how much 200 won is? Why did you give it to that wench? You can't give that kind of money to me?"
Pouring out her rage like this, eventually, tears welled up in her eyes.

Even so, the master kept his mouth shut tight and, instead of answering,
"Mmm! Mmm!"
only let out sounds of groaning.