MI -Hee
Mi-hee, the daughter of Haruka, grew up under the doting favor of Lord Ko.
Having been blessed with her late in life, Lord Ko took Mi-hee with him wherever he went. By the age of eight, she was already reading the scholarly volumes her father studied, and she began to master not only Japanese but also English, Russian, and German. As the official in charge of Japanese military rations and diplomatic documents, Lord Ko’s home was a frequent stop for many Westerners. He possessed a vast collection of Western and Japanese books and artifacts that were nearly impossible for the common public to access at the time.
Gazing at the beautiful Mi-hee—who possessed both the refined dignity of a traditional Joseon aristocrat and the wise, kind-hearted nature of a Japanese merchant—Lord Ko often thought she was destined for greatness.
She had the long, slender frame typical of the Joseon nobility, yet her eyes and mouth, which crinkled beautifully when she laughed, were the spitting image of the Japanese merchant Shobei. Her soft, warm voice brought to mind a classic Japanese lady, but the decisiveness in her eyes and her haughty, graceful gait were unmistakably those of a Joseon noblewoman. If Mi-hee disappeared from his sight even for a moment, Lord Ko would immediately summon his servants.
"Where is Mi-hee? Go at once and see if she is in a safe place," he would command.
However, Lord Ko’s wife did more than just hate Mi-hee; she regarded her as a "yokai," a monstrous spirit sent to ruin her life. Before Mi-hee’s birth, the couple had shared at least a few kind words, but now they lived like strangers, passing each other in silence for years. It was Mi-hee, the one who truly understood him, who was always by Lord Ko's side.
The wife's bipolar disorder grew increasingly severe. She would spend an entire month lying in a darkened room, only to suddenly emerge and throw lavish banquets for the wives of Japanese generals, showering them with expensive gifts.
Her emotional volatility worsened with each passing day.
By 1938, Japan was spiraling toward the peak of its oppressive power, forcing Koreans to worship at Shinto shrines, change their names to Japanese ones, and systematically conscripting young girls into forced labor and sexual slavery as "comfort women." On the other hand, anti-Japanese guerrilla units and communist organizations were growing in strength; in the Manchurian regions, northern Hamgyong Province, and around Mt. Paektu, partisan forces were consolidating their power.
Lord Ko, though a pro-Japanese collaborator, had a premonition that the end of Japanese imperialism was near. Because of his vast knowledge and connections, the Japanese were using him, but he knew better than anyone that if the tide turned and the anti-Japanese guerrillas took power, his wealth would be seized and his entire family—having aided the Japanese—would be executed.
One day, Lord Ko summoned his wife, who was in the midst of planning another endlessly extravagant banquet, to his study. The couple lived in separate quarters, so the wife left the main house and entered the large library built adjacent to the men’s reception room where the Lord resided.
"Sit down, wife. We have important matters to discuss." "What is it?" she asked. "The times are chaotic, and the future of the Japanese Empire is uncertain. The future of Joseon is equally opaque. Please, watch your conduct so as not to cause a stir, and hold no more banquets. It might be better to enjoy simple tea ceremonies with the generals' wives instead."
The wife erupted in a scream. "Do you know who I am to give me such orders? I am the granddaughter of the Chief State Councillor! To say the future of the Great Japanese Empire is uncertain... how dare you speak such insolent words? Even if you are my husband, I will not listen to the words of a traitor!"
She stormed out, kicking the door open. At that moment, Mi-hee was trying to enter the study, carrying a bundle of books. Mi-hee had a habit of taking Western and Japanese books from the study, wrapping them in a cloth bundle to read them, and then returning them one by one.
Glaring at Mi-hee’s face with eyes full of loathing, the wife suddenly slapped Mi-hee hard across the cheek. "How dare a low-born girl look the granddaughter of the Chief State Councillor in the face! Lower your eyes this instant, you wench!" "Mistress, forgive me..." Mi-hee lowered her gaze and stared at the ground.
From inside the room, Lord Ko’s voice rang out. "Mi-hee, come in quickly. Take the book by Bergson today."
The wife’s eyes burned with hatred and jealousy. "Feeble, pathetic Joseon nobles! Associating with commoners, reading the books of Westerners, and doubting the future of the Great Japanese Empire! You shall all be cursed!" The wife shoved Mi-hee aside, trampling over the fallen bundle of books as she walked away.
Mi-hee picked up the bundle, carefully brushed off the dirt, and hugged it to her chest. To her, books were like secret spells that opened doors to all the worlds she dreamed of. Within those pages lived a mother whose face she did not know, and a beautiful, peaceful life she had never experienced. With eyes full of dreams, she listened to Lord Ko’s stories of Western civilization and thought to herself, “One day, I will surely go to that Europe my father speaks of.”
Studying Japanese and Western books with her father was Mi-hee’s only joy. And there was one more thing—taking after her mother, Haruka, she loved woodcarving. She had grown up hearing people say, as they showed her Haruka’s carvings,
"Your mother was an incredible cook and just as talented at carving."
She loved to go to the kitchen where her mother had always worked and read there. She would stand blankly in front of the woodpile, trying to conjure her mother’s face from the logs. Longing for a face she could not even remember had become Mi-hee’s daily ritual as she stared at the firewood.
Like her mother, Mi-hee began to carve faces into small pieces of wood. Just as Haruka had carved to soothe her longing for her own mother, Mi-hee carved out of a yearning for Haruka. As she grew older, Mi-hee became the image of her mother.
Seeing Mi-hee from behind—sitting alone in the kitchen, reading or staring vacantly at the woodpile—Lord Ko’s wife fell into a delusion that Haruka had returned as a ghost. The wife’s obsession grew worse by the day. Mysterious voices began to whisper incessantly in her ear: "You must kill Mi-hee. Kill her..."
Driven by these voices, she sought out the male shaman, the Baksu-mudang, who had once sold her the young shaman girl, Cheong-ah. She went to have her fortune told and to buy a talisman to curse Mi-hee. Her mental state had spiraled into a vortex of bipolar disorder, obsession, and grandiosity; she wanted Mi-hee dead immediately. However, she could not bring herself to kill the girl who was under Lord Ko’s protection. Furthermore, it galled her that Mi-hee’s very existence was the result of a "mistake" she and the shaman Cheong-ah had committed years ago.
The male shaman greeted the wife warmly, showering her with flattery. "What brings a noblewoman destined for the royal palace all the way to Wonsan? As the years pass, the dignity of the royal house flows from you even more. To think you are suffering in this rough place, married to a mere county magistrate during such dark times..."
The shaman always told her that she was of a status meant for a royal marriage, but that her fate had twisted, leaving her married to a magistrate and childless.
"I did not come to hear such talk," the wife snapped. "I am on the verge of death because of that faulty prophecy you sold me regarding Cheong-ah. That fox-like Mi-hee has bewitched the Lord, blocking the family’s fortune and treating me with contempt. Make me a talisman that will bring about her instant death."
The shaman tossed a dried piece of wood onto his desk and examined it intently. "Death is not possible... and yet..." His eyes rolled back until only the whites showed, and he began to chant in a broken, song-like rhythm.
"There is already a curse in the house; yin energy slays yin energy... The mother dies, and the daughter dies... Blood is born covering blood, and blood kills blood..."
"What does that mean?" "It is a cursed yin energy—one that kills the mother upon birth. It was so for Haruka’s mother, and so for Mi-hee’s mother. And the daughter Mi-hee bears will be the death of Mi-hee." "You mean she will die young?" "Like her mother, she is fated to die at sixteen. And like her grandmother, she is fated to die like a dog on the street."
A satisfied smile spread across the wife’s face. "That fate... it will never change, will it?" "If you want her to die young and far from home as fated, bring me a lock of Mi-hee’s hair. I shall cast the curse again."
"It was my fault for trusting that girl Cheong-ah instead of listening to you back then. Do you remember? You told me a daughter would be born and told me to abort it. If only I had placed the talisman on Haruka’s back, or fed her wolfsbane..." "The price for the talisman to ensure an early death is 200 won." "She must die at sixteen. Without fail." "The effect is always as great as the money offered," the shaman replied with a cunning grin.
The wife gave the shaman 210 won and headed back to her grand estate.
The hatred one human feels for another is as difficult to master as the love one feels. It is because of this uncontrollable hatred that humanity wages war and commits murder. Sometimes, it is impossible to even know where this massive hatred originated. Often, such unbridled loathing begins with a hatred for oneself.
In those days when Joseon was collapsing, Lord Ko’s wife—once the granddaughter of the Chief State Councillor—knew that all she had left was a hollow shell of her status. She sensed that Mi-hee’s newly born intelligence, youth, and genuine talent were a new kind of power that captivated the hearts of others. Traditional titles, offices, and the hats of the nobility no longer held any real sway.
A new era was coming.
The ideas of the "New Woman" were beginning to be loved. And Lord Ko’s wife could not tolerate it.