Cheongju 1935
Haruka and Dr. Choi (Cheongju, North Chungcheong Province, 1935)
Under Japanese colonial rule, Joseon was a place of dualities, where traditional Korean sentiments blended with the new Japanese order. By the 1930s, Cheongju—the administrative center of North Chungcheong Province—was rapidly taking on a modern appearance.
The main street, Jungang-ro (then known as Honmachi-dori), was vibrant with Western-style buildings, Japanese shops, banks, and post offices. It was a space characterized by a sophisticated and exotic bustle, primarily populated by Japanese merchants and wealthy, pro-Japanese Koreans. Coffee-serving teahouses (dabang) appeared, along with gas stations and Western-style dress shops. Modern Japanese-style houses were clustered near the provincial government office, symbolizing a clean, organized order distinct from the Korean quarters. Dr. Choi lived near the provincial office with his parents, and the hospital where he worked was located on Jungang-ro.
On the other hand, the Korean residential areas outside the old fortress walls or on the outskirts of the city remained a cluster of old thatched-roof and tiled-roof houses, cast in the deep shadows of traditional lifestyles and poverty. Japanese police officers (sunsa) and officials in uniforms were a common sight. The sound of their boots clicking on the pavement instilled a sense of silent surveillance and oppression in the Koreans, and tension hung in every public space. Japanese was given priority on all government buildings, schools, and even shop signs.
While the city became more functional due to the construction of railroads like the Chungbuk Line and the exploitation of rice, this mostly resulted in increased suffering for Korean farmers, creating a gloomy undercurrent to daily life. Dr. Choi’s family was economically ruined but descended from Joseon yangban (aristocrats); his father was a man full of pride and a strong sense of authority. Dr. Choi’s younger brother worked at a bank on Jungang-ro and was already married with a daughter. Dr. Choi, however, had missed the typical age for marriage due to his early studies at Tokyo Imperial University and his subsequent posting to the distant city of Wonsan. His father, always worried, eventually ordered him to go on a blind date.
"You know the third daughter of Scholar Song, right? I’ve arranged for you to meet her. She is already over twenty; she shouldn’t miss her chance for marriage, so make sure the wedding happens this time."
Dr. Choi’s father was resolute in his decision that his son, who was nearly thirty, must marry and produce an heir.
"Father, I have no desire to marry right now. I still have much to learn."
His father barked back. "There is always more to learn throughout your life! And do you know what people say because you are always with that nurse, Haruka? Rumors are everywhere that the two of you are dating. Over my dead body will I ever accept a Japanese daughter-in-law. Moreover, I cannot bring a Japanese woman of unknown origin into this house!"
"Father, we are simply colleagues."
"We? You and the nurse are a 'we'? This won't do. I’ve set the date for this weekend. Meet her, have the formal family introduction, and get married."
"Father... I..."
"No more talk. Have the wedding next spring. The girl is pretty and virtuous, and her family is decent enough."
In Joseon at that time, it was common sense to follow a parent's decision regarding marriage. The concept of "marrying for love" barely existed; marriage was more like a contract to maintain a family's power or wealth. The romantic idea of marrying for love only began to enter the land in the 1920s with the emergence of the "New Women" (sinyeoseong). Before that, almost all marriages were arranged.
In the late 1910s, concepts of free love and love-marriages were introduced through newspapers, magazines, and "new novels" alongside Western liberal ideas. While these thoughts criticized traditional arranged marriages (often viewed as "buying and selling") in favor of individual free will and emotion, arranged marriage remained the dominant practice in most of Joseon. Discussions on love-marriage were active among the female intellectual class known as "New Women," and while some intellectuals actually practiced it, such trends were mostly limited to large cities like Gyeongseong (Seoul).
Cheongju was famous within Joseon as a city of education, aristocrats, and philosophy—a place that was deeply conservative and prioritized etiquette and tradition. In such a city, "love-marriage" was viewed as a vulgar and lowly "new culture." To a modern person, for whom "love" is the natural and absolute condition for marriage, this might be incomprehensible, but in the Joseon of that era, the "loving heart" of two individuals was not considered a valid reason for marriage.
Dr. Choi left his house and headed to the clinic. Seeing Haruka every day was the very reason he lived. Haruka had turned the clinic’s storage room into her bedroom, living and eating there. Dr. Choi always went to work with the happiness of being in a place where he could be with her. But now, with a formal matchmaker involved and marriage talks underway, people would gossip even more, and he would no longer be able to even walk the streets of Cheongju with her.
Whenever their work ended, their greatest joy was going to the newly opened "Café Ariake" on Jungang-ro to share a cup of tea. They would talk about the day’s patients or new medical books; it was like a small festival that concluded their day and confirmed a bright future. But now that a formal arrangement had been made, it was out of the question for the two of them to meet alone at Café Ariake.
Dr. Choi felt as though the gates of heaven had closed, leaving him standing alone outside. He couldn't accurately explain this feeling, but to him, Haruka was the reason for his life, his joy, and the light that made every day feel like a celebration. Thinking of a life without her, the screams and cries of the poor outside the fortress and the darkness of the clinic seemed to grow louder. He felt as though all hope was gone.
He recalled reading Chae Man-sik’s Ready-made Life. He remembered being deeply moved by how the novel used "the frustration of love" as a tool to criticize the inhumanity of colonial capitalist society, where even love was determined by capital and social class rather than pure emotion. It felt as though reality was more like a novel than fiction itself. Within these feelings, he found the definition of an emotion he hadn't recognized before. It was love. He discovered that the joy, hope, and mysterious daily excitement he felt for Haruka could be defined by that word: love.
However, in those days, it was unthinkable to disobey his parents and marry Haruka—a Japanese orphan with no known family history. Dr. Choi entered the clinic. He put on his gown in the neatly organized room. Haruka helped him into it. Seeing him arrive with slumped shoulders, she asked:
"Is something the matter?"
Dr. Choi gazed at her blankly. "A matchmaker has visited. It seems both sets of parents have already made their decision."
Haruka felt the strength leave her body, and her heart began to race. "Ah... I see. Congratulations."
"Haruka, do you feel what I am feeling?"
Haruka lowered her head. Her only protector was Dr. Choi. To her, he was father, mother, teacher, doctor, friend, and lover. "Congratulations," she whispered, and she continued with her work. Dr. Choi stepped behind her and embraced her tightly, saying nothing.
"If I marry, can you stay by my side? Can you promise not to run away and stay with me, just as you are now?"
Haruka wept as she spoke. "Doctor, I have nowhere to run and no place to hide in this world. I have no one, absolutely no one. If you allow me to stay here, I will be nothing but grateful."
Haruka looked at him with eyes like a small puppy bitten by a wild animal, a person with no one in the world. If Dr. Choi married and decided to no longer employ her as a nurse, evicting her from the storage room, she would have nowhere to go. She had no family or relatives in either Japan or Korea, and she could not return to Lord Go’s house in Wonsan, where she had lived for six years. Since she was already twenty, a marriageable age, her only paths would be becoming a Japanese man’s concubine or working as a maid in a restaurant or a Japanese home. But she knew no one in Cheongju, and a woman without a verified background or family had no protection against whatever might happen to her.
Dr. Choi turned her around, looked at her face, and wiped away her tears. Holding the small, thin woman in his arms, he said:
"I promise you. Though I may marry the woman my parents chose, I will protect you for the rest of my life. Just stay by my side."
The two clung to each other as if they were one body. Dr. Choi buried his face in Haruka’s long, straight hair and whispered: "Thank you for staying with me."
After the marriage talks became official and the parents began to agree on the details, the place where Dr. Choi and Haruka began to meet in secret was Yonghwasa Temple in Cheongju. Both were Buddhists, and Yonghwasa was close to the city center yet a place where no one would think to associate the two of them. Located just west of the main city area, it kept the silence of a mountain temple while being near the town.
Rather than leaning against a majestic mountain, the temple was situated on a gentle hill—a "border zone" perfect for keeping secrets without being entirely isolated from the surrounding houses or town. The path from the town to the temple was a quiet trail thick with green pines and kudzu vines. After work, they would head to the temple about ten minutes apart. Their meeting spot was behind the main hall (Daeungjeon) and the monks' living quarters (Yosachae). A small, dense bamboo grove and old trees blocked the view. Listening to the sound of bamboo leaves rustling in the wind, the two secret lovers found the meaning of life only by finishing their day with conversations that confirmed their feelings.
"I hope that in our next life, we can meet under different circumstances and live as husband and wife."
"If there is a next life, I want to be born as the wind," Haruka said, her face looking as mature and resolute as someone who knew everything about life. "I want to be a wind that flies through this world freely, bound by nothing, driving the clouds."
"If you become the wind, where is the first place you want to go?"
"Wonsan in Gangwon Province. I want to go and hug Mi-hui once. I want to be by her side as a warm wind when it's cold and a cool breeze when it's hot."
Seeing Haruka long for the daughter she had never even seen, Dr. Choi comforted her. "Lord Go is taking good care of Mi-hui. I heard from a merchant from Gangwon Province that she is so bright she is already fluent in four languages and has such a kind heart that she is growing up as a daughter loved by everyone."
Haruka’s eyes sparkled, and a smile of joy and hope spread across her face.
Just then, a monk walking through the temple grounds saw them and approached. "Namu Gwanse-eum Bosal (Hail to Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva)."
Haruka put her hands together in prayer and bowed. "Namu Gwanse-eum Bosal."
The monk, sensing the tears in Haruka’s eyes as well as the joy radiating from her face, spoke: "The Seven Maitreya Buddhas of Musimcheon Stream will look after a woman who must bury the greatest joy and the greatest sorrow of life in her heart."
The monk took a step closer, gazing out toward the Musimcheon Stream with a distant look, and began to speak in a low voice. "Do you know how the Buddhas of Yonghwasa came to be here?"
The monk pointed to the massive stone statues rising inside the main hall under the dim light. "Only thirty years ago, they were lying in the cold mud at the bottom of the Musimcheon Stream. They had been worn down by the currents and covered by sand for eons, forgetting the light of the world."
Haruka looked at the monk with wet eyes, for she felt her own situation was like a stone submerged in water. The monk continued with a merciful smile.
"Then, one night, the seven Buddhas appeared simultaneously in the dream of Lady Eom, a consort of Emperor Gojong. Their bodies were soaked in river water, emitting a chilly air, as they pleaded: 'We are suffering at the bottom of the Musimcheon marsh. If you rescue and enshrine us, we will look after this country and the royal family.'"
"Were the Buddhas from the dream actually in the water?" Dr. Choi asked, fascinated.
"Indeed they were. The Governor of Cheongju, acting on the Lady's order, searched the banks of the Musimcheon thoroughly. To everyone's surprise, those seven massive stone Buddhas emerged one by one from the mud. Those heavy bodies, which seemed impossible to move by human strength alone, came out of the water as if by magic. Lady Eom used her own funds to build this temple and named it Yonghwasa, praying for the future world of Maitreya."
The monk paused and looked at Haruka’s trembling shoulders. "Woman, look at those Buddhas. Is it not because they waited with held breath in the dark waters for hundreds of years that they now emit such a solid and grand light? The tears currently gathered in your heart will one day become a solid comfort to someone, just like those Maitreya Buddhas."
Haruka bowed deeply again. The smiles of the stone Buddhas, which had never worn away in the cold waters of the stream, felt like pillars supporting her nameless life.
Suddenly, the monk looked intently at Haruka and said: "Seven statues became seven faces, and seven deaths became seven lives. Woman, your presence here is not a coincidence but the will of Buddha; He will open the path for you to lead your life."
Haruka looked at him in surprise. "Monk, what do you mean by that?"
"Woman, you are a soul blessed by the Seven Buddhas who save human lives. You came here because you have a mission to save someone."
The monk looked closely at Haruka’s delicate yet powerful hands. "Do you perhaps remember carving seven faces for someone?"
Haruka was even more shocked. She remembered that a few days before giving birth to Mi-hui, the shaman Cheong-ah had come to her, told her she would have a daughter, and said she needed carvings of seven faces to survive seven life-threatening crises. Haruka had carved them.
"Monk, how do you know that? Before coming here, I carved seven faces and gave them to a young shaman."
"Those carvings do not save one person seven times; they are carvings that received the mercy to save the lives of seven women. It was the Seven Maitreya Buddhas of this place who inspired you to save those women's lives. The Buddhas called you here, so live with peace in your heart."
With those words, the monk put his hands together, bowed, and walked calmly away. Dr. Choi and Haruka watched his retreating figure disappear into the whispering branches swaying in the soft breeze. Then, Dr. Choi took Haruka’s hand.
"Does this mean your carvings for Cheong-ah were the inspiration of the Seven Maitreya Buddhas? One of those seven women must be you, Haruka."
In the courtyard of Yonghwasa, where the quiet red sunset was settling, hope for life and hope for love brushed past like a silent wind. Their love was rising slowly under the Seven Maitreya Buddhas of Yonghwasa, like a quiet, mysterious legend from long ago.