As True as a Dream Chapter 175

News of the atrocities committed by the late Governor-General Saito sent shockwaves through all of Korea.

The Korean people were outraged, foreigners residing in the country deeply lamented the events, and condemnation of Japan spread across the globe.

 

On her way back from the mountains, Hae-Joo, who had been out for the first time in a while and had directly felt the public sentiment, stepped into the courtyard. She harbored a faint hope that Japan’s increasingly brutal tyranny might subside, if only a little.

 

“I’m going to change my clothes. It’s so hot, I’m sweating a lot,” Hae-Joo said to Yi Ho as she headed straight for her room.

 

Just then, a crow landed in the courtyard with a flap of its wings and transformed into a man.

“I have news.”

 

Inside the room, Hae-Joo, who had just begun removing her top, pricked up her ears at the deep voice from outside.

‘News? What news?’

 

She hurriedly changed her clothes and stepped out just in time to hear the words “Manse Movement.”

Hae-Joo slipped on her shoes and quickly approached Yi Ho and the crow. “Manse Movement?” she asked.

 

“Codewords are circulating in the city. Tomorrow at 9 a.m., all those who share our cause are to gather in front of the foreign embassies.”

Hae-Joo moved closer to Yi Ho and the crow and asked again, “There’s going to be a Manse Movement tomorrow?”

Though she asked the crow, her eyes were on Yi Ho.

 

Then, the crow produced a small, hand-sized national flag from somewhere and held it out to Hae-Joo and Yi Ho.

“They said, ‘We have no weapons, no military strength, but we can raise our voices. We will not be trampled like this.'”

 

Hae-Joo looked down at the flag offered by the crow, then up at Yi Ho.

“We have no weapons, no military strength, but we can raise our voices…”

She repeated the crow’s words, then tightly clenched the flag in her hand. She, too, was moved.

 

“If we are people who share this cause, then we should go too,” Yi Ho said.

Hae-Joo looked up at him, surprised by his unexpected words.

 

“…I have a debt to pay. However small my part may be.”

As he added this, Hae-Joo understood his meaning.

Man-in-hyeolseok – A pledge made by ten thousand people, sealed in blood…

 

Hae-Joo lowered her eyelids, murmured the phrase, and then finally nodded.

 

“Yes. Let’s go.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

One minute before 9 a.m. that day.

In the Jeong-dong area, where many embassies were clustered, Koreans in worn-out everyday clothes appeared as if from nowhere.

 

The Japanese soldiers patrolling the area grew wary of the sudden crowd, but their vigilance was rendered futile the moment the clock struck nine. Even more people poured into the streets, raising flags bearing the Taegeuk symbol and shouting in unison, regardless of who they were.

“Long live Korean independence!” (Daehan dongnip manse!)

 

Hae-Joo, mixed in with the crowd, most of whom were dressed in white baeki, raised her hands high and shouted until her throat was raw.
Tears welled up in her eyes for some reason.

 

Deafened by the massive roar that shook the very heavens, diplomats began pouring out of the embassies. Reporters, who had already received information about today’s demonstration, set off camera flashes from all directions.

“Long live Korean independence!”

 

According to the information from the crow, this Manse Movement was planned to last only five minutes.

 

True to their word, they had no weapons, no strength—nothing but their voices.

The goal was to disperse before the Japanese military arrived to suppress them, living to fight another day.

“Long live Korean independence!”

 

Hae-Joo saw the flustered foreigners, journalists, and Japanese soldiers staring at the dense crowd packing the streets and shouted even louder.

“Long live Korean independence!”

 

She hoped that these faint voices, gathered together, would one day bring beautiful freedom to this land.

She and Yi Ho would continue to carry the Taegeuk flag and take up arms for their country, Korea.

Even if their lives were to end insignificantly.

 

She realized too late that this was the right path.

So now, she would burn her life brightly and intensely, however short it might be, without cowardice.

Together with this man, Ban Yi Ho.

“Long live Korean independence!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks later.

 

“There are more people than I expected,” said a woman in Western dress, raising her head. She wore a swallow-colored skirt that fell straight and short, a white blouse, swallow-colored Western-style shoes, and a matching swallow-colored cloche hat.

Pearl earrings adorned her pale earlobes, and the handbag she carried was dainty.

The face glimpsed beneath the hat was as vivid as a spring flower, and the faint smile gracing her lips captured the attention of some gentlemen. But soon, they averted their eyes upon seeing the indescribably handsome man beside her.

 

A pinstriped black suit elegantly draped the man’s slender height and fine physique.

The woman’s hand rested lightly on the man’s arm; they were clearly a couple, either lovers or married.

The beautiful pair, a pleasant sight for the eyes, were heading for the first-class carriage. People who stole glances at their retreating figures quickly found their seats as the train showed signs of imminent departure.

 

Hae-Joo and Yi Ho, who had attracted everyone’s attention, also found their reserved sleeper compartment, stored their bags properly, and sat down.

However, the train did not depart on schedule.

 

The previous night, a pro-Japanese businessman who provided massive aid to Japan had been assassinated. Strict inspections were underway throughout Gyeongseong to find the assassin.

 

Soon, a police officer approached where Hae-Joo and Yi Ho were sitting. The sharp-eyed officer looked them over with displeasure.

[“Why are you going to Shanghai?”]

[“We just got married. We’re going to Shanghai for our honeymoon.”]

[“Honeymoon? Your return tickets?”]

 

Yi Ho, with a composed face, showed the officer their return tickets for a week later.

The officer solemnly checked the tickets, handed them back, and turned away. Their luxurious attire and accessories, which suggested influential backing, seemed to make him let it go.

 

As the officer finished inspecting all the first-class sleeper compartments and moved to second class, the gentle smile on Hae-Joo’s face faded.

“You were right, sajangnim. Dressed like this, they don’t suspect much.”

Hae-Joo leaned toward Yi Ho and whispered softly. Yi Ho lifted the corner of his mouth and glanced at her.

 

Initially, Hae-Joo had suggested wearing old clothes and disguising herself as a man to avoid drawing attention, but Yi Ho had refused.

They had decided to make the long journey to Shanghai, China.

The reason they had chosen Shanghai as their destination after long deliberation was precisely because the Provisional Government of the Republic of Korea was located there. It also served the purpose of partially fulfilling Hae-Joo’s dream of traveling overseas.

 

Even as a human, Yi Ho had more than enough money, thanks to the assets he had secured throughout Gyeongseong during his time as the owner of the Song Yue Pavilion.

Thus, this journey wasn’t overly difficult, and as it was a long train ride, he didn’t want either Hae-Joo or himself to suffer unnecessarily. If they had disguised themselves as Hae-Joo suggested, it would undoubtedly have been an arduous and grueling trip.

 

The inspections in the other carriages seemed to be over, as the train began to move slowly. Hae-Joo pressed against the window, gazing distantly at Gyeongseong fading into the distance.

“Will you miss it?” he asked.

 

Hae-Joo, who had been staring blankly, shook her head.

“We’ll be back, so I won’t miss it.”

“Good enough,” Yi Ho said, lightly patting the back of her head in a comforting gesture. Hae-Joo soon sat down.

 

“When we come back later, shall we go to Sogok Village again?”

“Sure.”

“And when the country gains independence, we can have a child?”

“Sure.”

“And we’ll grow old together until our hair turns white.”

“Sure.”

“If we live long enough to see our child’s children, I couldn’t ask for more.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Yi Ho answered her endless stream of hopes for the future with gentle agreement.

“Everything I say, you just say ‘sure’.”

“Because it’s you.”

 

Yi Ho, leaning back against the compartment wall, smiled a lazy, tender smile, looking at her with deep affection.

“I know you’re anxious. We will definitely survive. We will have a child someday. We will return to our hometown. So let’s do our best. Let’s make sure we have no regrets.”

 

He spoke as if soothing her heart. Hae-Joo soon lifted the corner of her mouth and nodded.

“Even if you’re not a fox anymore, sajangnim, you’re truly amazing,” Hae-Joo said sincerely.

 

He was unshaken by most things, quick-witted, and always seemed to have a plan.

So, Hae-Joo relied on him heartily, was carefree, and trusted him completely.

“I didn’t live 400 years for nothing,” Yi Ho replied playfully. Hae-Joo let out a soft laugh.

 

She wondered if it was okay for their journey to join the Provisional Government to feel this light.

She couldn’t be certain, but Hae-Joo desperately wished for it—that during her lifetime, this country would surely be liberated from Japan.