Lee Hyeong-sik turned to the furious Kim Jongryeol. "But you can't do something so improper. You must endure."
"No, sir. I've already endured three years," Kim Jongryeol replied, determined to oust Vice Principal Bae once and for all. He went on, "We have over two hundred brave young men who have formed an alliance. We cannot yield another step."
"But if the church leader does not permit it, what can you do?"
At the word "church leader," Kim Jongryeol's spirits fell. He tilted his head, thinking for a moment, then said, "Then we'll all be expelled. Is Gyeongseong School the only school there is?"
"But no matter how great the grievance, a collective resignation is improper. And isn't it hard to leave your alma mater?"
"Alma mater? What alma mater? When Principal Park was the head and Vice Principal Yoon was the academic dean, it was our alma mater... but now I have not a shred of affection for this school. That man they call principal knows nothing... and the one they call vice principal only visits gisaeng houses." Anger rose in Kim Jongryeol's eyes. Lee Huigyeong, hearing "vice principal," nudged Kim. "Hey, what are you saying?"
"What? What else should I call such a vice principal!"
Lee Hyeong-sik asked with a worried look, "So you're going to the principal's house now?"
"Yes, we'll go see the principal, and around ten we'll visit the church leader. They say he doesn't get up until ten... But, sir, do you sympathize with our cause?"
"As a teacher, I can't say whether I sympathize or not, but you should think again and try to avoid trouble." With that, he sent the two young men away. In his heart, Hyeong-sik also agreed with ousting Vice Principal Bae. He had even said similar things once or twice in the classroom. Among the four hundred students and ten teachers, not a single person liked Vice Principal Bae. The teachers avoided speaking with him if possible, and the students pretended not to see him when they met on the street. Someone—no one knew who—had sent an anonymous letter urging Vice Principal Bae to resign. Someone had written sarcastic remarks on the blackboard during his history or geography class: "If Vice Principal Bae becomes principal, he'll be the world's greatest historian and geographer." And in the outhouse, someone had scrawled in pencil, "Vice Principal Bae's Restaurant"—probably a first or second-year student who had been scolded with "Are you even human?" and had written it in anger. Every teacher had a nickname, but Vice Principal Bae had the most. Other teachers' nicknames were made in fun, but his were born from hatred and resentment. When his face turned red and he thundered, "Are you even human?" the younger students dared not answer immediately, but once outside, they would stick out their tongues and shout a new nickname two or three times—either one they invented or one someone else had coined—and only then would their anger subside a little. They used these nicknames as medicine to vent their anger at the harsh Vice Principal Bae. So whenever a whole class was scolded with "Are you people even human?" they would gather together and recite all of Vice Principal Bae's nicknames, like monks chanting morning prayers at a large temple. After chanting heatedly for a while, feeling somewhat relieved, they would shout what they thought was the most fitting nickname for the occasion—"Come on, you scoundrel, you bastard!"—and then clap and cheer.
Among the nicknames, three were the most powerful: Tyrant, Fox, and Dog. "Tyrant" meant harsh, "Fox" meant cunning, and "Dog" had deep implications. First, Vice Principal Bae licked the boots of Church Leader Kim Namjak, ate his scraps, and acted as a German-style spy dog. He was cruel to those below him, but toward those above, he bowed and scraped like a well-fed dog wagging its tail and licking its master's feet—he was utterly obsequious. Toward those slightly below him, he would lean back and let his tongue curl inward, but in the presence of a superior, his whole body would relax, his head and back bending naturally, and his tongue would loosen to pour out every honorific like "would sir please" and "if it pleases sir." Thus he cleverly gained the trust of Church Leader Kim Namjak, becoming his only young friend. So while Vice Principal Bae was severely criticized by colleagues and students, he enjoyed deep trust among the so-called upper class, led by Kim Namjak. Therefore, no matter how much colleagues and students tried to oust him, his position was as solid as a rock. Second, if any colleague did not follow his orders, criticized him, or simply displeased him for no reason, he would report them to the church leader, and within two or three days, an expulsion order would come down. That was how he had driven out Principal Park and Vice Principal Yoon—whom Kim Jongryeol had admired—and installed the current principal, an old man who knew nothing, taking the important post of vice principal himself, running all school affairs as he pleased. As a result, all the teachers with any conscience had fled, leaving only those who had nowhere else to go or who willingly accepted Vice Principal Bae's control. The school steadily deteriorated. Only Lee Hyeong-sik, being a Tokyo returnee, was not treated too harshly by Vice Principal Bae, and Hyeong-sik stayed because he felt the school would be ruined if he left too.
Thus Vice Principal Bae had been universally rejected by the entire school. Recently, something had added fuel to the fire: it was discovered that he had been frequenting brothels in the Dadong and Gurigae area, causing the current uproar.
Hyeong-sik thought, "I can't just stand by," and headed straight to school.
Hyeong-sik decided to do whatever he could to resolve this peacefully. On the way to school, he thought it all stemmed from Vice Principal Bae. He would first see Vice Principal Bae, tell him what was happening, and advise him to be more careful from now on. Vice Principal Bae had always resented that Lee Hyeong-sik did not fall under his influence. On the surface, he pretended to be friendly and respectful, but behind the scenes, he was looking for any excuse to drive Hyeong-sik—a thorn in his eye—out of Gyeongseong School. Hyeong-sik was well aware of this, but out of love for the school, and for the sake of Bae Myeong-sik, whom he had known as a friend for four or five years despite their differences, he felt he had to do something.
As he entered the school gate, first and second-year boys playing with a ball gathered around him. "Sir, do we have off today? Are we playing too?" They saw the third and fourth-year students also off and hoped for a holiday. Hyeong-sik went to the office. Vice Principal Bae seemed very angry; his already sharp face was even sharper, and he ignored Hyeong-sik's entrance. Hyeong-sik did not greet him, only exchanged greetings with the other teachers sitting nearby. Each teacher had a chalk box and textbooks in front of them, but though it was already past nine-ten, they showed no sign of entering their classrooms. Pretending not to know what was happening, Hyeong-sik asked, "Why aren't you going to your classes?"
One teacher replied, "For some reason, not a single third or fourth-year student has come." All eyes turned to the vice principal. Hyeong-sik stared at him, then stepped closer and said standing, "Vice Principal, we have a big problem at the school."
"I don't know anything about it," the vice principal said, turning his face away. Hyeong-sik lowered his voice. "Don't we need to take some measures? Sitting around like this won't do."
"Well, what is this? Those worthless brats—why aren't those third and fourth-year punks coming?"
Hyeong-sik realized he still didn't know. He hesitated whether to tell him about the collective resignation plan of the entire third and fourth-year classes, but decided it would be worse to keep silent. "You still don't know?"
"What do you mean?"
"The third and fourth-year students have decided to resign en masse. They've submitted a petition to the principal and the church leader."
"What? A collective resignation?" The vice principal was visibly shocked. His educational methods based on new Western theories had failed. The other teachers, also surprised, left their seats and gathered around him. Startled, the vice principal asked, "How do you know?"
"Some students came to me earlier with the petition. They said they were on their way to the principal's house." As he said this, Hyeong-sik flinched inwardly. He regretted having spoken so carelessly.
The vice principal stared at him with venomous eyes, then stood up abruptly. "Well done! You goad those foolish students into ruining the school!" He glared at Hyeong-sik. The vice principal had always been jealous that the students respected Hyeong-sik more than him. Students never visited him, but many visited Hyeong-sik. He didn't attribute this to Hyeong-sik's superior character and warmth, but rather to Hyeong-sik's skill at seducing students and their being fooled by him. He thought to himself, 'Hyeong-sik is throwing the students away.' Whenever he saw students speaking warmly to Hyeong-sik in his presence, he could not hide his displeasure. He believed that the students ought to respect him, but since they didn't, it was because they were foolish. When he saw the students increasingly reject him, he concluded that Hyeong-sik was deliberately inciting them to oppose him. He had once told someone, 'Hyeong-sik has ambitions to become vice principal by making the students reject me.' Now, hearing that a student had come to Hyeong-sik's house with a resignation petition, he was certain Hyeong-sik was behind it. He clenched his fist. "Lee Hyeong-sik, well done!"
Hyeong-sik was furious at having his goodwill misinterpreted. "You judge others by your own cunning heart! I spoke out of goodwill for you and the school, hoping everything would go smoothly. But you—"
Before he could finish, Vice Principal Bae's face reddened further, and he stepped closer. "Listen, Mr. Lee Hyeong-sik. I've known your tricks for a long time. I've been tolerating it. I know that the four or five previous student revolts were all your doing. Do you intend to destroy this school?" He pounded the desk with his fist, emphasizing "destroy." Hyeong-sik laughed bitterly. "Listen, Mr. Bae Myeong-sik. I still thought you were human." Then his anger boiled over, his voice trembling. "You can't even recognize a friend's goodwill. Do you know how much I've worked between the students and faculty for your sake? How many times I've defended you?"
"Hah, defend! Fine words. You use the young students—go ahead, get them to revolt against the school. Let's see how much power you really have." He grabbed his hat and walked out without a greeting. Those remaining laughed. "Hah, off to see His Excellency the church leader again." Hyeong-sik paced back and forth, unable to contain his anger.
The teachers murmured that Hyeong-sik would soon be expelled from Gyeongseong School too. Watching him pace, one teacher asked, "By the way, what's the students' reason this time?"
Hyeong-sik didn't feel like answering. He pretended not to hear for a while, looking out into the yard, then suddenly sat down heavily at his desk, pulled out a drawer, and began picking through the books and papers inside. "What reason? That reason."
Another teacher said, "It's obvious, isn't it? Probably the incident between Vice Principal Bae and Wolhyang." He looked at Hyeong-sik as if seeking confirmation. "Am I right?" Hyeong-sik tore some papers, read others, and folded them. A third teacher asked, "Vice Principal Bae and Wolhyang?"
"Don't you know? It's famous—the Vice Principal and Wolhyang affair. Lately, a gisaeng named Wolhyang has become very famous in the pleasure quarters. She came from Pyongyang a couple of months ago. Pretty face, well-educated, good with words. And her geomungo playing and folk songs are said to be unmatched. All the romantic gentlemen of Jangan are drooling and rushing in. But there's something strange: no one has ever possessed her."
One teacher, who looked honest, asked as if captivated, "Possessed her?"
"Hahaha, truly a moral gentleman! Many have tried to win Wolhyang, offering money and making vows, but just when they think she's about to give in, she sharply refuses. So she's become notorious as an unfathomable woman."
The honest-looking teacher asked, "Why is that?"
"How should I know? That's what people say."
A teacher with a Kaiser mustache said, "It seems you've been rejected once or twice yourself... Does your heart sting? Hahaha."
"Not at all. A man like me has nothing to do with such luxurious pleasure circles... I'm pure, you see. Hahaha."
"Who knows?" laughed another teacher, and everyone joined in. The honest teacher also laughed, but seemed eager to know more, like a student questioning a teacher. "So? What happened then?" The Kaiser mustache teacher patted his shoulder. "You're not indifferent when it comes to beautiful women, are you?" and laughed heartily, making the honest teacher blush. The teacher who had been talking about Wolhyang lit a cigarette. "Well, our Vice Principal Bae became her prisoner. Apparently, he begged her ten times over. But no matter how much he pleaded, she said 'No' and kept him at arm's length, then kicked him away. So now he's furious. Didn't you see how sharp-faced he looked this morning?" He scratched his head. "That's the mark of being kicked by Wolhyang last night."
"Ah, I see, I see! I wondered why his face had grown sharper lately. So that's it, huh?" The Kaiser mustache laughed. The honest teacher wanted to ask more, but afraid of being laughed at, he sat silent. Another teacher, who had been quietly listening and smiling, asked, "So the students found out about that? Is that why they submitted the resignation petition?"
"I don't know," he said, glancing at Hyeong-sik as if to say, 'You must know.' Hyeong-sik continued pretending to sort through his papers while listening. He suspected that the gisaeng Wolhyang might be Yeongchae. The speaking teacher, noticing Hyeong-sik's silence, continued, "I don't know the details, but that's probably the reason this time." But Hyeong-sik's stillness dampened his enthusiasm, so he stopped and traced letters in the air with cigarette smoke. The honest teacher, unable to contain himself, asked, "How did the students find out?"
The Kaiser mustache said, "Students? They know everything. They spy on the teachers—even know when we go to the outhouse. They act all innocent, but they have their own police and detectives. This time, some student probably followed the vice principal to Wolhyang's house..."
"Hahaha, caught red-handed."
As the teachers chatted, the one who had been writing in smoke seemed unable to hold back. He stubbed out his cigarette. "It's like this," he began. "The vice principal couldn't stand it anymore, so recently he decided to buy her freedom outright and take her for himself. But there are many rivals. If one offers three hundred won, another offers four hundred, and a third offers five hundred—it's probably gone up to a thousand. But even if the vice principal sold his entire house, he might get three hundred won. He can't compete financially, right? So he's trying to win her over with reputation and devotion—visiting her every night to pay homage. But the day before yesterday, a mischievous student followed him." He laughed. Everyone leaned in, amused, imagining the future of the vice principal and Wolhyang.
Hyeong-sik, without clearing his desk of the scattered papers, seemed lost in thought. Then he hastily gathered them back into the drawer, bid everyone farewell, and left. The remaining teachers looked at the clock and yawned.
Hyeong-sik left the school gate and walked home, thinking. Could that Wolhyang be Yeongchae? Originally a gisaeng from Pyongyang, beautiful, and still untouched by any man—was she truly Yeongchae? Had she become a gisaeng under the name Wolhyang, come up to Seoul two or three months ago, and become famous in the pleasure quarters? And if no one had ever possessed her, was she keeping herself chaste for his sake? Yes, that must be it. She was remaining chaste for him. But because she wouldn't give herself easily, wealthy and dissolute men were trying to make her their own property. Even that Vice Principal Bae wanted her? If Yeongchae fell into the hands of a beast like Bae Myeong-sik, what would become of her life? Would a man like Bae Myeong-sik have any human compassion? He only wanted to indulge his filthy desires, to use Yeongchae as a plaything. Moreover, Bae Myeong-sik had divorced his wife of seven or eight years—who had waited for him while he was in Tokyo—on false charges of adultery, and had married a female student last year. Now, not even a year into his new marriage, he was already after another woman. Would the daughter of his benefactor become the concubine of such a heartless wretch? Unthinkable! Unthinkable! He had heard there were four or five rivals, and Bae Myeong-sik visited Yeongchae almost every night. How miserable she must be, surrounded by those beastly men who knew only lust! Perhaps that was why she had come to see him yesterday—unable to bear it any longer, she had finally come to rely on him. But seeing his poor clothes and humble dwelling, she realized it was useless to ask for help, so she stopped mid-sentence and left. The thought made his own poverty feel even more sorrowful and shameful. Indeed, Hyeong-sik had no means to save Yeongchae. If Wolhyang truly was Yeongchae, he had no ability to rescue her. He sighed, recalling the teacher's words: "It's probably gone up to a thousand won." A thousand won! If he wanted to save Yeongchae—to rescue her from those beasts and give her a decent life—he would need a thousand won. But did he have a thousand won? He thought about his assets. His only wealth was the worn wallet in his vest pocket. Even if he filled it with ten-won notes, it would hold at most two or three hundred won. He had never once put a hundred won in that wallet. The only time he had carried a large sum was when he graduated in Tokyo and a friend generously gave him eighty won for a suit and travel expenses—the most money he had ever had in his life. That was four or five years ago. If he had saved ten won every month, he would have five or six hundred won by now, but Hyeong-sik never considered this life his true one; he saw it as temporary, preparatory. So he never thought to save his meager salary. He gave what he didn't use to poor students. But he had a habit of buying books. Every month when he received his pay, he would go to Ilhan Bookstore or a bookshop like Maruzen in Tokyo and spend four or five won. His only joy was seeing his bookshelf fill with gold-lettered books. While others visited gisaeng houses, drank, or played Go, he found his only companionship in reading newly bought books. He was praised by his peers as a scholar, and the students respected him partly because his bookshelf held English and German books with gold letters that they didn't understand. He always said that the only way for Joseon to survive was for Joseon people to reach the level of civilization of the world's most advanced peoples—including the Japanese. And to achieve that, the country needed many people who studied hard. Therefore, he believed his responsibility, as someone who understood this, was to study widely to fully comprehend world civilization and then spread it to the Joseon people. That was why he spared no expense on books, loved talented students, and helped them as much as he could. It was all for this purpose.