Jade began to plan her first panel. Once—it seemed long since—she had thought of embroidering the cranes she had seen flying over the house, but all memory of them had vanished in the face of her first glimpse of the mountains that day on the road. It was the mountains she would depict on her panel.
Jade knew what they should look like. They would be a misty blue-gray color, with white on top. There would be bright green rice fields at the bottom. She chose her colors carefully.
Somehow the mountains had gotten tangled up in her mind with the strangers, with Willow's refusal to see her, and with Servant Cho's misfortune. They remained a background of steady reassurance in a scene of confusion and pain.
The time she spent planning her panel took her mind off the fact that Servant Cho had not been rehired. At first Jade had hoped that the events at the court had been keeping her father too busy to attend to the matter. But the days went by, and Servant Cho did not reappear. She had failed.
Her mother brought out the precious bolt of blue silk, dark as the night sky. It had been saved especially for this purpose. She measured and cut the proper length. "Have you chosen your subject?"
"Yes, Mother," Jade answered. She hesitated only a moment. "I wish to show the noble mountains that guard Seoul, where the graves of our ancestors lie."
Jade's mother looked at her sharply. But her voice was gentle as she said, "That is not the usual subject for a panel, Jade. Have you considered, perhaps, a peony blossom or a water lily? Your flowers are very fine. They would make an excellent panel."
Jade had been prepared for this response. She spoke respectfully but firmly. "If it would not displease my honorable mother, I would like to show the mountains. I know that it is not usually done, but it is my wish to try."
Jade's mother sighed almost inaudibly. "All right, if it is your wish. But I think you will soon find that they do not make a good subject."
Jade took the length of blue silk, vowing silently to prove her mother wrong.
***
It took only a few attempts for Jade to learn that her mother knew far more about embroidery than she did. The texture of the thread on the silk was somehow wrong for mountains. The tiny, fine stitches that melded together so smoothly to show a flower petal or a fish's shiny scales would not make the greatness and solidity of mountains.
Jade tried different stitches. She changed colors often. She picked out as many stitches as she put in. She worked so long and hard that her fingers were raw from the needle and her back and shoulders ached from bending over.
Her mother tried to tease her gently. "You need not work so hard on the panel, Jade. You have plenty of time before the matchmaker comes!"
Jade heard the worry in her mother's voice and smiled halfheartedly in response. But when her mother turned away, Jade sewed all the more stubbornly.
Her stitches were only part of the problem. Each day she feared that her memory of the mountains was fading, little by little. From the special spot in the garden, she would stare at what little she could discern of the peaks, then close her eyes, trying to remember what she had seen from the seat of the cart that day. Jade had first thought she would never forget how the mountains looked in their entirety. But her failure to embroider them as she wished combined with the passing of time to make her feel as if those same heavy clouds were slowly closing in over the picture in her mind.
Chapter Fifteen
Brushes and Scrolls
Schoolmaster was ill. He had woken one morning with a bad spirit of sickness in his head and had been in bed for several days now. Jade's mother sent special soups and tonics every morning and evening, and he would soon be well. But for the time being the boys had no classes.
Tiger Heart alone among the boys still went to the Hall of Learning each day to study on his own. In a few years he would take examinations at the King's court. He would have to do well to become a royal scholar like his father.
One afternoon Jade put down her embroidery in despair. She stretched her aching back and shoulders and took a walk around the Inner Court. The door to the Hall of Learning was open, and she saw Tiger bent over his books. She stepped inside quietly. The Hall was forbidden to girls only during the boys' lessons, but Jade had not been in the room since the day of her prank with Willow.
She liked the Hall of Learning. Many beautiful scrolls hung on the walls, with elegant calligraphy for the boys to copy. Jade could not read, but she knew by heart some of the poems written on the scrolls. Rolls of fine rice paper and porcelain jars of ink were arranged on the shelves, next to the rabbit-hair brushes. It felt like a place of wisdom.
It was winter, and while there was not much snow outside, the air was still frosty. But the stone floors of each room in the house were always warm and cozy because of the long pipes underneath that reached all the way to the kitchen stove. Jade crossed the room to the low table where Tiger was reading and sat down next to him, grateful for the warmth that rose through the floor's waxed-paper tiles.
"What are you reading?" Jade asked.
"It's a scroll about Tan-gun," Tiger answered. The famous story about the founder of their nation was familiar to all Korean children, but Tiger had to know every word perfectly for his examinations.
Jade bent over his shoulder and let out a gasp of surprise. In the middle of the scroll was a picture of two mountains. Between them a graceful swash of ink made a river. A few tiny, deft brushstrokes indicated a man near the river.
"That's Tan-gun." Tiger pointed. "He will escape from his enemy by crossing the river."
Jade hardly heard him. The mountains in the picture looked almost as they had when she had seen them from the road. Here was the magnificence and mystery and reassurance she had felt. Here was the way to keep the picture forever, not with thread on silk but with ink on paper.
"Brother, can I try that?"
Tiger looked surprised. "What, reading it? You don't know how to read."
"No, no, not reading it. I want to try to paint—to make a picture like that."
Tiger wrinkled his brow. "I don't know ... Schoolmaster might not like it."
"He won't know; he's still sick in bed. Just a small bit of paper, Brother, please!"
Tiger shrugged. He unrolled a few inches of rice paper and tore the piece off carefully. Jade fetched a brush and ink from the shelves and eagerly began to paint a line across the paper.
Tiger watched her for a moment, then took the brush from her impatiently. "You're using too much ink," he said. "Here—" He wiped the brush gently and gave it back to her. "And don't press so hard. Master says it should be like a butterfly's wing."
Jade tried again. Tiger nodded. "That's much better." He watched in silence for a few minutes longer.
"By the way," he said, his eyes still on the paper, "I thought you would like to know. Servant Cho has a new job with the Kim family. It was our father who recommended him for the position." He looked up to return her grin of delight, then went back to his studies.
As Tiger bent over the scroll again, Jade worked to try to copy the picture of the mountains. Her lines were heavy and clumsy, unlike the delicate strokes on the scroll, and she tried again and again until at last she drew a single line that satisfied her. Tiger glanced up for a moment and nodded at her work. "It's not bad for your first try."
Jade was thrilled with his praise. That afternoon she worked until the strip of paper was full. She could hardly believe how much time had passed when the dinner gong sounded. There was joy in the gentle strokes of the brush—joy at learning of Cho's good fortune, relief that her mistake had not been his permanent doom.
And every afternoon until the Master was well, she slipped into the Hall of Learning to paint again.
Chapter Sixteen
Yut Sticks
Jade's attempts at painting continued. She begged scraps of paper from Tiger. He even smuggled a brush and a jar of ink out of the Hall of Learning for her. As he gave them to her, he said, "There you are. But why would
a girl want to paint?" Jade could not have told him why—only that she had to paint, to put the pictures in her head onto paper, where she could see them with her eyes.
While she did not wish to deceive her mother, Jade painted only when she was sure to be alone—in her room, or in a quiet corner of the garden when her mother was busy. She knew what her mother would say if she should learn of Jade's new interest. Painting was a noble art, reserved for men.
As a consequence of her secret painting, Jade had abandoned her attempt to embroider the mountains. To her mothers satisfaction, the swordlike leaves and rich purple blooms of iris plants were slowly taking shape on Jade's first panel.
Pleased as she was with her embroidery, Jade was still dissatisfied with her painting. She could not show anyone her attempts, nor ask questions about how to improve her work. She could only experiment, with different brushes and strokes, wet paper, dry paper, rubbing, shading, blotting—and starting all over again. Jade was sure that no other painter used as much ink as she did.
Beyond her efforts to discover good technique, Jade felt desperate to see the mountains again—not just once, but many times. The pictures that most pleased her were of things she had looked at as she was painting: the bridge over the pond, a willow tree, her little ivory ball. But whenever she tried to paint the mountains from memory, there always seemed to be something missing.
As she frowned over her most recent picture of the mountains, she felt she had no way of knowing whether she was putting a true picture on the paper. I must see beyond the wall again, she thought. There must be a way.
Jade did not consider another attempt at escape. The first had been disastrous. Alone, she walked in the garden; overhead, she could see blue sky and wild birds flying. If only I could fly, she thought.
If only I could fly.
***
The following month, it was time for the New Year celebration. This was great fun for all the family. The children bowed in front of their elders and received gifts of money. Jade was delighted. Although she had bowed every year since she had been a small child, she had never used the money for anything but sweets. Now she had enough to give Tiger to buy paper and ink the next time he went to the market.
The festivities lasted for several days. Everyone ate wonderful food and played games. Jade's favorite game was yut. It was a board game popular with both adults and children. Yut was played with long smooth sticks, each with a rounded side and a flat side. A player tossed the yut sticks into the air; the flat sides that landed faceup indicated the number of spaces a token could be moved.
On the last day of the New Year celebration, Jade grew tired of yut and stood by watching some of her cousins play. One of the youngest, little Dragon Fire, had taken an extra set of yut sticks and tokens. He was playing his own game with them—balancing one stick across another, putting a token at the end, and then pounding the other end with his hand. As the token flipped into the air, Dragon squealed with delight and tried to catch it.
Jade watched him, first idly, then with growing interest. When Dragon balanced the token just right and hit the other end just so, the token flipped high into the air.
Another plan began to grow in Jade's mind.
***
Jade watched for her chance. Soon the spring season's repairs began. As always, winter snow and winds had done some damage to the house, and masons and carpenters arrived to make their repairs. It was a boring time for the girls of the Han household, for while the workers were busy in the Inner Court, the girls had to stay behind closed doors.
But the repairs were finished quickly, and soon the girls were free to roam the Inner Court again. Jade wandered about noticing the work that had been done here and there. There was debris in some corners that had not yet been cleared away by the servants. And in one pile Jade found just what she needed: a long wooden board.
Jade wheedled one of the servants into carrying the board to the garden for her. She got Tiger to bring her one of the tightly rolled sheaves of rice-straw that were kept in the stables to feed the oxen. After a few experiments, her invention was ready.
Chapter Seventeen
Beyond the Walls
Jade needed one more thing—a partner. She was slowly growing accustomed to Willow's absence, but there were times like now when she sorely missed her old friend. Jade had to think carefully about whom to choose. She needed someone old enough to follow instructions well, but younger than herself so he or she could be coaxed into doing what needed to be done.
Only two of her cousins were suitable—a shy girl named Moon Lily and a boy named Bear Courage. She decided to try Lily first. Lily was younger and shorter than Jade, but a little plumper. Jade approached her with great friendliness.
"Lily, would you like to play a new game with me? It's in the garden."
Lily was cautious. "What kind of new game, Cousin?"
"It doesn't have a name. But I'm sure you'll like it." In the end Lily agreed and followed Jade to the garden.
In the middle of a clearing was a simple contraption. The sheaf of straw lay on the ground with the wooden board across it.
Lily stared at it curiously. "What is it, Cousin?"
"I'll show you. It's a jumping game." Jade stepped onto one end of the board. "Now, I want you to stand at the other end, jump off the ground as high as you can, and land on the board."
Lily shrugged and did as she was told. The results were unexpected.
When Lily hit her end of the board, Jade did indeed pop up off the other end. But she lost all control in the air and landed in a heap on the ground, one shoe flying off and her skirts in a tangle.
Lily ran shrieking to her cousins side, her eyes wide with fear. Jade sat up, rubbing her ankle. "I'm all right," she said impatiently. She limped over and put on her shoe. "It worked fine—we just need to practice more." But Lily backed away in alarm, shaking her head. No amount of coaxing or pleading could persuade her to try again.
Now Jade had to try her plan with Bear Courage. He too was younger, but not as easily led as Lily. He was busy playing ball and did not want to try her new game.
Jade tried everything she could think of. She pleaded, cajoled, even threatened him. Nothing worked. At last in desperation, she thought of bribery.
"Bear, Tiger goes to the market tomorrow. He always brings me sweets. If you come with me now, I'll give you my share of the sweets."
For the first time, Bear looked interested. "All of your share?"
Jade nodded. "All of it."
Bear considered. "Not enough. I want something more for playing a girl's game."
Jade thought hard. She ran to her room and opened the lacquer chest where she kept her things. The silk purse that held her ivory ball was carefully stored in its usual place in one corner.
With the ivory ball clutched in her fist, Jade ran back across the Inner Court. Halfway to the garden she slowed to a walk and finally halted. She opened her hand and studied the little ball, rolling it around in her palm.
How many memories it held! Jade recalled her delight when her father had given it to her, and the many times she had played hide-and-find with Willow in the garden. The little ball had been with her during her escape. And many times in recent months Jade had painted it, trying to capture perfectly its carvings and curves.
She closed her hand tightly over it again. If my plan works, she told herself fiercely, I will see things even more wondrous than my hall.
"Look, Bear." She opened her hand. Bear's eyes widened. He reached for the ball. Jade pulled her hand back. "You have to play whenever I want," she demanded.
Bear agreed, and with one last pang in her heart, Jade handed over the ball.
Bear was a much better partner than Lily. He thought it great fun to send Jade flying from her end of the board and didn't worry when she fell down. But Jade's invention was not working as she had hoped. She did not get high enough to see over the wall.
At last Bear grew tired of jumping on his end and de
manded that Jade jump to send him flying. Jade did not want to give up her chance to see over the wall. She thought for a moment.
"Bear, I want to try something different. This time, when you jump and send me up in the air, I'm not going to land on the ground. I'm going to land on the board again. So when I land on the board, you'll go flying."
Bear agreed eagerly. After a few attempts, they found that it worked; not only that, but Bear's turn in the air was higher than Jade's.
"Let's keep going!" shouted Bear. "We don't have to stop after one jump each—let's see how many we can do!"
Bear's idea was a good one. By the end of the afternoon, they were doing five or six jumps each. It took great concentration and timing, for the jumper had to jump at the exact moment that the "flyer" landed. But when they did it right, each flight was higher than the one before. Jade was having so much fun that she almost forgot to look over the wall.
The predinner gong sounded; it was time for Jade to go help prepare the evening meal. "One more time!" yelled Bear.
Jade stood on her end and waited for Bear's jump. Up into air she went, then down, then up again, higher than before. This time she remembered to look over the wall.
She saw the streets outside the Outer Wall. She saw people. Each time she jumped, she saw something else—the rice fields, a stray dog, a farmer and his donkey. And on her last jump, she saw the mountains.
She saw them in the dusk, purple-blue this time against the bluer sky. As she flew through the air, she glimpsed them only for an instant, but it was long enough for her to make a picture in her mind—a picture that she would paint as truly as she was able.
***
Jade ran to the kitchens in a daze of delight. Jumping on the seesaw had felt almost like flying. She thought about the flashes of life she had seen outside the wall—above all, her glimpse of the mountains. Jade hoped with all her heart that with the seesaw's help she would be able to see the mountains as Tiger had described them so many times.