Chapter 7:
Entering the Palace
A narrow path lined with dense foliage.
A deer, graceful in its form, darts through the underbrush.
Yet, from its body, red blood drips steadily, arrows lodged deep in its flesh from multiple angles.
Perhaps it had lost too much blood.
Soon, the deer’s steps visibly slow. Panting, exhaling hot breaths, it comes to a halt.
—Whoosh
An arrow, launched from somewhere, pierces the deer’s neck with deadly precision.
The deer collapses on the spot, its body trembling violently.
“A perfect shot.”
A glossy white horse approaches the fallen deer at a leisurely pace.
The man astride it is neither dressed as a hunter nor a military officer.
Peeking out between leather arm guards and a quiver is a crimson gonryongpo, the royal dragon robe.
Tall and slender, with a complexion so pale it borders on sickly, his sharp nose and long eyelashes give him a beauty that could almost be described as feminine despite his maleness.
But what stands out most on his face are his eyes.
Light brown pupils that hold both extreme innocence and cruelty, like those of a young boy gleefully tearing apart a live insect.
This man, recorded as the worst tyrant in Joseon history—nay, in all of Korean history.
The 10th king of Joseon, Yeonsangun, Yi Yung.
“…It has expired, Your Majesty.”
A man in black robes dismounts and checks the deer’s pulse.
“Back when I was still in the jamjeo (the prince’s residence before ascending the throne), my father cherished these creatures like gold or jade. I found it utterly laughable…”
The king, dismounting, pulls the arrow lodged deep in the deer’s neck.
Blood, still pulsing from the dying animal, splatters, staining the white horse and the crimson robe with red splotches.
“Chief Eunuch, these deer…”
A strange smile plays on the king’s blood-smeared face.
“…they’re not meant to be raised. They’re beasts that taste best when shot dead.”
At that moment, one of the royal guards (geumgun), trailing some fifty paces behind, rides up and whispers something into the king’s ear.
His face lights up with sudden delight.
“Enough! The hunt ends here for today. I shall return to the palace at once!”
The king shouts, leaping onto the white horse’s back.
“Returning already, Your Majesty?”
“Didn’t you hear? Sung-jae has returned from the *chae-hong*. He’s brought a slew of new women. How could I possibly wait?”
“And today’s schedule…?”
“Finish the hunt, Chief Eunuch. We’ll discuss the rest later.”
With that, the king lets out a shout, turns his horse toward the capital, and gallops off.
“…”
The man called Chief Eunuch watches his retreating figure in silence.
…
The palace maids scurry about with quick steps.
If the bathwater’s temperature is even slightly off, the entire Inner Court would be turned upside down that day.
The water must be warmed to just the right temperature, infused with a touch of camellia oil, rice wine, and an assortment of precious herbs and flower petals.
“Lady Sukyong, please enter.”
Before the head palace lady’s clear voice even fades, a woman strides confidently onto the raised wooden floor.
Her steps are unlike those of any ordinary palace maid.
Neither the refined gait of a noblewoman nor the cautious tread of a common wife.
Her features, too, are extraordinary.
An oval face, white as an egg, with narrow, almond-shaped eyes, a sharp nose, and vivid red lips.
Taken individually, her features aren’t particularly striking.
Yet this woman, said to have been born with an innate allure, exudes an indescribable sensuality that seems to overflow from her very being.
If the phrase gyeonggukjisaek—a beauty capable of toppling a nation—could be personified, it would be her.
The one person capable of swaying the fearsome King Yeonsangun.
Lady Sukyong (third-rank concubine), Jang Nok-su.
Reaching the bathing chamber, she unhesitatingly sheds her clothes without a trace of shame.
As the maids approach to remove her hairpins, her silken hair cascades like a waterfall over her alabaster skin.
Nok-su slides slowly into the warm, petal-strewn bathwater, closing her eyes to savor its warmth.
“Sung-jae brought back new unpyeong (entertainers responsible for music and dance for Yeonsangun), didn’t he?” she murmurs softly, eyes still closed.
The maid attending her hesitates before replying, “It is said that nearly a hundred unpyeong were gathered from the eight provinces this time.”
Before the maid finishes, Nok-su lets out a derisive scoff.
“Eight or nine out of ten will likely be discarded without even being presented to His Majesty. Why bother dragging so many here? Where’s Chu-wol?”
“Yes, Lady Sukyong.”
A maid named Chu-wol steps forward, bowing quietly before the concubine.
Her demeanor is colder and sharper than the other maids’.
Officially, she is a supervising palace lady tasked with maintaining discipline in the Inner Court, but in truth, she is Nok-su’s right hand.
“I heard Sung-jae and his father visited Governor Hong of Gyeonggi…”
“That is so, my lady.”
“Then they must have secured a chae-hong as well?”
“That is so, my lady. However…”
“Is there a problem?”
“…The chae-hong they brought isn’t the governor’s daughter… but a woman who was cooking in the kitchen.”
“What?”
Nok-su’s eyes snap open, glaring at Chu-wol. The maids around her shrink back in fear at her piercing gaze.
“I told them to bring the governor’s daughter to tame that old thorn in my side, Hong, and they bring some kitchen wench?”
“I haven’t heard the full details, but it is said the chae-hong envoy made the choice himself.”
“Where are they now?”
“They are to be taken to the royal kitchen after their preparations are complete.”
Nok-su’s smooth, white brow furrows at Chu-wol’s words.
That snake Im Sung-jae is up to something again.
Abruptly, Nok-su rises from the bath, fragrant water streaming down her body.
The maids rush forward, scrambling to wrap her in silk cloth.
“We’re going to the royal kitchen. Now.”
Her jade-like face twists with an eerie expression.
…
“Wait, hold on!”
Before Ji-yeong can protest, the maids descend upon her, stripping her clothes.
Her bare body is plunged into bathwater scented with camellia oil. As soon as the bath is done, she is draped in silk as thin as dragonfly wings.
Two or three maids then swarm her, combing her hair while chattering among themselves.
“They bring in all these common women out of nowhere, telling us to bathe and dress them—what kind of work is this?”
“Who’re you telling? Ugh…”
“By the way, this girl’s clothes were already strange, but her hair’s odd too.”
“Right? It barely reaches her shoulders and is all curly. And from the middle down, it’s brown. How peculiar.”
That’s because I haven’t touched up my root dye in a while…
Ji-yeong can’t bring herself to say it aloud as the maids continue their gossip.
“I heard she’s from some barbarian land.”
“Is that why her hair’s like this…?”
“Now that you mention it, she does look a bit strange…”
“They must not eat well there. She’s so skinny.”
Hey… I can hear everything…
Guess beauty standards are a bit different in this era.
As she tries to console herself, the stern voice of an older palace lady, the chief overseer, rings out.
“Once the basic preparations are done, take the girls selected as unpyeong that way, and those for the royal kitchen this way.”
The… royal kitchen?
Before Ji-yeong can process the meaning, she is swept along with a group of women, herded like sheep to some unknown destination.
They arrive at a place called the sojubang—the royal kitchen.
Under the jurisdiction of the Saongwon, the office managing all palace food supplies, the sojubang is divided into the inner kitchen, outer kitchen, and confectionery. The inner kitchen, commonly called the suragan, is where meals for the king are prepared daily.
Dozens of people work tirelessly—slicing ingredients, stoking fires, simmering broths—like a battlefield of culinary creation.
This is the epicenter of the era’s finest ingredients and cooking facilities.
…To think I’d see this place with my own eyes.
Standing in the space she had only imagined, Ji-yeong momentarily forgets her predicament, gazing in awe at the spectacle before her.
“What are you staring at? Move!”
Snapped out of her reverie by the chief overseer’s shout, Ji-yeong hurries forward.
A dozen women have gathered at one end of the suragan. Candidates to become palace maids working in the royal kitchen, she’d heard.
But… palace maids cooking… in the royal kitchen?
Ji-yeong tilts her head, puzzled.
In this era, the suragan is staffed exclusively by men, contrary to common assumptions. The cooks here are hereditary professionals, making it a place where outsiders rarely set foot.
“They say they’re selecting maids to serve during His Majesty’s meals,” a sharp-looking woman beside her whispers, as if reading Ji-yeong’s confusion. “They need to tend the brazier to keep the soup warm and handle the side dishes, so they have to know how to cook.”
“I heard earlier that His Majesty severely punished a maid serving at his meal because he didn’t like the food.”
“Punished… severely?”
An anxious murmur ripples through the women.
At that moment—
“Lady Sukyong arrives!”
Chu-wol, the supervising palace lady, announces in a clear voice, and the room falls silent, as if doused with cold water. Everyone bows their heads.
The distinctive sound of bold footsteps follows.
Lady Jang Nok-su has entered the suragan without warning.
“Are these the ones? The new girls brought in?”
Striding in without hesitation, Nok-su heads straight for the group of women.
The older chief overseer bows deeply to the much younger concubine.
“My lady, what brings you to such a place in person?”
“These are the girls who will handle His Majesty’s food. I must see them with my own eyes.”
Nok-su scans the women with a gaze laced with contempt. As her icy eyes pass over them, the women lower their gazes, fearful of catching her attention.
The chief overseer tries to ease the tension.
“They were carefully chosen from noble families skilled in hosting receptions.”
“They look the part. Just a bunch of plain faces.”
“…”
“But there seem to be too many. I was told only one maid is needed.”
“We plan to select just one from among them, my lady.”
At that, the corner of Nok-su’s mouth curls into an eerie smile.
“Select, you say? How about this, then?”
“Pardon…?”
“Is the head cook here?”
Nok-su raises her voice, calling out abruptly.
The head cook, also called jaebu, the top chef of the suragan—in modern terms, akin to a head chef.
A middle-aged man with a white headscarf hurries over and bows deeply before Nok-su.
“Yes, Lady Sukyong. Jeon Se-ho, head cook, at your service.”
“How far along are the preparations for His Majesty’s meal today?”
“Well… we just finished preparing the ingredients…”
“Perfect.”
Nok-su turns to the women and the chief overseer.
“A maid serving His Majesty’s meals must explain the dishes, keep the soup warm, and manage various aspects of the meal. To do so, they must know how to cook, correct?”
“That is so, my lady.”
“You said these are all daughters of noble families skilled in cooking? Then it’s only fitting to judge them by their culinary prowess. Let’s select the suragan maid based on the dishes they prepare today.”
“A wise decision, my lady.”
Unable to refuse, the chief overseer bows, and Nok-su’s eyes gleam with an unsettling light.
“But it wouldn’t be proper for the unselected women to return to their homes. They say a palace maid leaves the palace only in death, don’t they?”
“What… do you mean?”
The chief overseer looks up at Nok-su, her eyes trembling.
“From now on, these women will each prepare a dish for His Majesty’s table in their own way. And…”
Nok-su’s red lips curl into a chilling smile.
“…except for the one whose dish is deemed worthy of His Majesty’s table, the rest will face execution.”
…
Author’s Note
During Yeonsangun’s reign, those tasked with finding beautiful women were called chae-hong-sa (envoys for gathering red), referring to their role in “gathering red.” These envoys collected women from across the country—servants, government slaves, and even noblewomen—to serve as courtesans. Those selected were called unpyeong, and among them, the special courtesans who served the king closely were known as heung-cheong.
