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youarejesting · 4 years ago

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Kisaeng (BTS)

[Masterlist]

Beta: @bluewhale52, @janetfraiserdeservedbetter Genre: historical, drama, adventure, comedy, feel good, slice of life (if you lived in the 1654), spy’s (espionage). Rating: Teen and up Summary: Mulan disguised as a soldier, went to war to spare her father and save china. The bangtan boys disguised as concubines, went to an all womens home and saved a small village. Words: 12154 Announcement: This is part of a reverse trope project with castle bangtan. I am happy to have made this and for everyone who helped support along the way.

Winters End 1654 Hanseong,

Today my mentor Bang Si-Hyuk taught me the history of the Qing invasion and the passing over of the Ming to Qing era. We discussed the Qing Calendar and the offerings of princesses made to King Dorgon. Bang-seodang (teacher) told me I was a child for not understanding that there was a place for everyone. Men would fight in the wars and women would stay home and bear children. He is telling me this as news has spread that we are going to war and it is only a matter of time before they call for us. But when I think of my family and my sister, I want to protect them. I don’t want to fight in the war even if it is for my country. Leaving will only put my family at risk.

Kim Namjoon.

Namjoon placed down his brush and wiped his palm of ink that sometimes smudged. With a deep sigh, Namjoon got ready collecting his satchel, and headed to the town. Namjoon arrived at the small well-frequented building. The building held all the information of the residents in town and was also a place for people to send letters. That’s where he spent most of his days reading and writing correspondence for the villagers.

He had received the earliest message about the impending war. There was only so much he could do to protect his family and he feared the coming announcement of deployment. Every available man was to go, leaving the women and children to fend for themselves. The women would have to tend the farm and care for the younglings which would only work if they stuck together.

The problem lay with the men who would be allowed to stay behind due to business, like the butchers and the barmen and anyone who would swindle or pay their way out of deployment. These men were shady and wouldn’t hesitate to exploit and hurt the women left behind unprotected.

Namjoon was in the middle of writing another love letter for one of the many present flower boys (beautiful men) within the town. Today’s letter was to someone Namjoon had written to on many occasions and yet never had the pleasure of meeting in person.

My dearest Kim Seokjin,

There is no one who can compare to your beauty. A man such as yourself would be ever so popular and have gardens of beautiful flowers for you to pick. But there is a part of me who wishes that I may be the sweet flower that you might choose. That I could be the one to make you smile. The one who can make a long day feel like it was nothing when you come home.

“How does that sound, Miss Ahn?” Namjoon looked up, his expression deadpanned. He never expected his tutor to teach him the importance of reading, writing, history, poetry and Confucius’ philosophy, only to waste it on love letters from pining women addressed to the same two young men every week.

Part of him felt sorry for the two men, but another part of him felt jealous that these two men had the entire pick of women from the town, and he was stuck with his lessons. The constant “Scholars life is one without women” Bang-seodang (teacher) preached whenever he noticed Namjoon’s eyes wander from his books out the window at the young ladies giggling.

Namjoon finished with the letters and handed them over to Hoseok, the delivery man whom he only ever saw in passing; the man was so energetic and gangly. He had an odd tone of voice but it always sounded chipper.

Namjoon had only the briefest of moments with the young man. “Here for the mail,” Hoseok called, and the letters were placed on the counter along with two coins for his hard work and he took the money and letters and headed on his way.

Hoseok took a stack of perfume scented letters from his bag and rolled his eyes. Seokjin was a popular young man, only to be outdone in recent years by Taehyung.

The things Hoseok had to go through to deliver the mail was honestly scary in itself. He found it best never to stand around too long; best to simply hand over the mail and leave.

He had a few regular customers he enjoyed spending a short time conversing with. Today he was delivering mail to the Noble Kim household. He walked in, nodding to the servants, and promptly followed the steward.

“It seems the young master has mail once more,” The steward called and Hoseok was beckoned inside. He bowed low and shuffled quickly and quietly across the room where the Kim family were having breakfast.

Hoseok knelt down and began taking out multiple letters addressed to the second son. “Father I don’t want to go to war,” Seokjin protested adamantly, slamming his rice bowl down onto the table.

“It is the way things are, how they’ve always been.”

“Why don’t they send a few girls, why do they get to sit around at home? It isn’t fair”

Hoseok had heard about the possibility of war from the postal office. Any messages to and from the city passed through himself which left him privy to important and secret information. He did feel a tad nervous for his sister and mother. He wanted to stay home to protect them, but only a few men with jobs important to the community got to stay behind, men who provided essential services like the postman. The problem was that only one could stay behind and unfortunately, it would not be Hoseok to represent the post but the old man who ran the office.

Hoseok wished he could just dress as a woman and stay behind but that was a crazy idea; men who did that were either shunned as cowards or killed. He handed over the stack of letters and moved on his way, bowing again before backing out of the room, leaving Seokjin with his hands full of letters of adoration and sickly sweet perfume.

Letters again; they each began talking about the war wishing he came back safe as if he had already left and had resigned to his fate. Those words dwelled in Seokjin’s head more and more and made him feel ill and bitter. He tried not to crease his forehead. He didn't look good when he was angry.

If only he could be a girl and laze around without a care. He would play and frolic in the gardens and he would have an easy life.

Seokjin read each letter slowly and sighed. Of course, he was handsome, and these women had their way with words. Every day, the letters became more profound and he could feel his ego rising.

Seokjin sighed once more, a growing habit for the day as he got dressed. He looked fit for a Nobleman, his hair tied in a top knot manggeon (mesh headband that stops baby hairs sticking out) preventing any hair from falling in his face. He then wore his gat (hat) with fine jade bead gatkeun (beads that hang from their hat).

He thought he looked quite smart and with his small pouch of coins around his neck, wandered from the estate. His father had ordered swords, readying for the war to come and had sent Seokjin to pick them up from the blacksmith.

Seokjin held his hands together behind his back and casually strolled through the streets, trying to keep his composure. He nodded at a group of giggling girls but his smile fell soon after he passed them. They were so lucky, they weren’t taking up arms to fight for their families. No, the women had it easy.

Amidst his fuming, he accidentally made eye contact with an old drunk man who looked him up and down and smiled crassly. Seokjin shivered in disgust. Part of him wondered if he could pass as a woman; he had a pretty enough face and perfectly plump lips.

He didn’t have much time to think as he arrived at the blacksmiths. He walked into the room and saw a shirtless young man, smithing. Beside him, an older man, presumably the man’s father, was shoveling coal into the fire.

“Jungkook, we have a customer,” the older of the two smiled at Seokjin before resuming his work.

Jungkook dropped his things and grabbed a towel, drying his chest of sweat. He headed to the wooden table by the entrance, draping his Hanbok over his chest and thin waist to appear more decent in front of the handsome nobleman.

“Good morning, Sir, what can I do for you today?” He smiled a particularly wholesome little smile, teeth a little big but endearing.

“I am here to pick up the order of swords my father ordered?” The nobleman smiled.

“Your name sir?” Jungkook sat at the desk and opened the ledger. Though Jungkook wasn’t a nobleman with extensive education, he still knew how to read and write basic words associated with smithing.

“Kim.”

“Kim, Kim, Kim...gardening tools.... no, aha the swords! Yes, sir, that will be 100 mun a piece sir.”

“I should have enough here,” he smiled, placing down a pouch that made a heavy ‘clink’ sound as it hit the wood.

Jungkook emptied the pouch and counted the coins with expertise, then handed back the change and the silk floral pouch it came in. He fetched the swords and carried them over; they were expertly made by him and his father.

“Thank you,” Jungkook smiled and began explaining in detail the care and features they added to the handcrafted metal weapon. “Three foot long single-edged, weighted and balanced”

Guiding the customer out, Jungkook handed over the two swords and held the door open for the handsome young man to crab walk from the smith’s shop. He looked completely out of place holding such dangerous weapons, and he pitied the young man. He was the son of a nobleman and would definitely be expected to set an example.

Jungkook had on many occasions sparred with his father and was able to hold his own in a sword or unarmed fight. He wondered if his father would be okay alone. He would be exempted due to his job and physical condition, but he was getting older, would he be able to work on his own without getting hurt or sick?

Scooping up the bag of tools, Jungkook told his father to take a break and that he would deliver the tools and bring back some fresh fruit from the Kim farm. He poured his father a glass of tea then left.

As Jungkook traveled through the crowd to reach the fields across town, he passed the small bar. Inside, he could hear the raucous of unsavory street merchants discussing how they were going to bribe their way out of deployment. They had plans to pay the royal officials and take over the town when all the men had left. It seemed that all they wanted to do was cause havoc to all the families and businesses, and blackmail them into paying a safety fee.

He pressed on, trying not to think about his father being exploited or worse, given his current state. While musing, he arrived at the small farmhouse on the edge of town and was greeted by a handsome young man.

“Hello, Can you hold this?” The young man smiled, handing over a large rope. Placing down the bag of tools, Jungkook gladly held the rope tightly in his palms.

Taehyung raced to the other end of the rope and secured it in both hands, he looked up with a grin before shouting, “Okay pull!”

The young man who had arrived at the farm was confused but he pulled the rope nonetheless. Taehyung pulled back and the two were suddenly in a heated tug of war.

Taehyung giggled and the young man seemed to give it his all. It was a battle of strength and the farmer’s son wasn’t particularly muscular as he very much neglected most of his farming duties for foolish games so it was only fair that the young delivery man bested him.

“Good game, you are pretty strong for someone so young,” Taehyung patted the Younger man's head before scooping up the rope.

“Isn’t this a child’s game?” Jungkook eyed the rope draped over the older man’s shoulders.

“Sometimes it helps pass the time to act a little childish, and it made you smile so you thought it was fun too right?”

“I enjoyed it, thank you for the game, I am here to deliver tools for your family.” He said now looking more serious.

“Ah yes you must be the blacksmith, you look like a blacksmith. All work, no fun.” Taehyung tapped the younger man’s nose before turning with a flourish, humming as he went, beckoning the smith to follow.

“I have to work to take care of my father,” He pouted, Taehyung enjoyed the boy's childish nature, the two could definitely get up to some mischief.

“My name is Taehyung,” He smiled, gesturing to the large box in the shed and removing a small pouch of coins from his satchel.

“Jungkook,” He sighed, placing the tools down and gratefully accepting the money.

“What are you going to spend it on, sweets?”

“Uh, it's for my father's medicine,” Jungkook laughed, making Taehyung feel a little sorry for the kid, he was so young and yet working so hard already.

Taehyung with his unwavering curiosity decided to tail the boy once they parted, not trying to be discreet, just walking a few paces behind and whenever the boy turned, Taehyung gave him a smile and wave. Lost in thought for a moment, Taehyung didn’t take notice of the boy in front of him until they were colliding, fumbling with the empty porcelain soju bottles.

As Jimin fell, he pulled each bottle to his chest and held them; though the impact was quite jarring, the bottles were safe. Jimin lived with his grandparents and they ran a business selling rice wine which was popular but didn’t make them a lot of money. They couldn’t afford to replace any new bottles.

It was his job to deliver the full bottles to the bar and bring back the empty ones. If any bottles were broken, the bar would pay for replacements. That was the rule, but if they were broken during delivery, the money came out of his family’s pocket.

“I am sorry,” the man who had run into him was polite and gentle, helping Jimin to his feet and dusting him off, “Let me help you carry some of those, I promise I will look where I am going.”

“Thank you for the offer, you can carry this half” He offloaded a few from his arms.

“I am Taehyung by the way, who are you?”

“Oh, I am Jimin,” he smiled, thankful for the help. The two journeyed through the vendors until they arrived at Jimin’s family business, “Gran, I have a friend who helped me,” Jimin called.

“Oh let me see him! Oh he is quite the looker, Jimin, if only you were a girl, what is the use of you being so pretty if you can’t lure in handsome young men,” she joked playfully, this was their running joke that Jimin was so pretty.

“I can lure in handsome men just fine, see if I was a girl I would have too many suitors. I wouldn’t be able to pick,” Jimin laughed.

“If you were a girl then you wouldn’t have to go to war.” Jimin’s heart sank knowing his grandmother really didn’t want to see him leave.

“That would be one way to get out of the army,” Taehyung laughed and Jimin’s grandmother handed him a plate of rice cakes. The two boys wolfed them down happily, bonding over their love of sweets and games.

Taehyung left and Jimin was getting ready to close up shop; he lifted a large porcelain vase of Soju and carried it over to the butchers. The butchers were not the nicest of people; they were affiliated with the outlaws, the ones Jimin heard talking about taking over the city when the men left for war.

“Yah!” Yoongi called, seeing the graceful form of Jimin from the top floor of the liquor store. “Jiminie.”

“Hey Yoongi, I am here to trade.” Jimin smiled up at him and he nodded, coming down.

“Alright, dad’s got your meat pack ready, it's all freshly cut.” Yoongi handed over the basket.

“Have you been preparing for deployment?” Jimin asked him, it seemed the secret war was not so secret as it was all everyone was talking about. The boy always meant well, this innocent question asked by anyone else would not have ended so well.

“I am not going, Jimin, my dad has bribed the officials trying to get as many men as possible to stay behind so that they can take over the town. there isn’t much resistance when the only people left are the elderly, the women, and the children.”

“You should think about staying too, maybe I can convince my father not to threaten your family and their shop.”

“I can’t; it’s punishable by death if you try to avoid your duty.” Jimin sighed, “Gran thinks I should just dress up as a lady and stay behind and protect my family.”

“You could definitely get by as a lady, you would just have to work on a few things,” Yoongi hummed looking him up and down. He eyed Jimin up and down wondering if Jimin could really do it, lie to the officials, and say he was a girl.

He would have to stay in the Kisaeng house; he couldn’t stay with his grandparents, because if he was found out they would all be killed. Perhaps Yoongi was thinking too far into this, but he really did like Jimin. He was the only person who knew who he was and yet still wanted to be his friend.

“Maybe that might be an option, I don’t know how my grandparents will do on their own being so old; the shop barely makes enough money for food as it is.”

“Look, if you can’t stay, I could try my best but it’s alcohol, and you know these men love to drink,” Yoongi said honestly, “they will probably go through all the supplies in a week and everyone else will struggle.”

Yoongi sighed, watching the boy leave looking rather forlorn; perhaps he shouldn’t have told him.

Spring 1654 Hanseong,

Today, I, Kim Namjoon, have done something stupid. I dressed as a girl but it seems like I wasn’t the only one. Five other idiotic bamboo shoots have no clue what they are doing. Stepping foot into the kisaeng house was taboo, only women and eunuchs were allowed entrance. But the officials have been bought out by the corrupt street merchants, the kind who plan to take whatever women and land they see fit. We are all honestly praying for a miracle, that no one will find out we are men, some are better at hiding it than others. We will see.

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon was rudely awoken by the call of war. He guessed today was the day. He dressed slowly, in no hurry to give his life away. Departing his room with little thoughts of breakfast, Namjoon heard the soft sniffles from his sister who was mournfully packing. There was not enough room for all the beautiful dresses so she had left many behind.

He wanted nothing more than to stay, if only to protect his sister in their own home and let her keep her luxuries of dresses and books.

Namjoon knew women were not allowed to read or write but he made time every day teaching his younger sister or letting her sit in on lessons when father was away working in the palace.

Namjoon hugged his sister, trying to comfort her as well as to calm his nerves. “Do you need me to walk you home, I can carry your bag?” He said trying so hard to prolong the moment.

“No brother it is okay,” she paused. “You are going to come back, you're smarter than any of the men out there. You’ll return, I know it.”

She scooped up her bag and left the house, waving from the front gate. Namjoon was sure he wouldn’t get away with his plan. But he packed a few of his sister’s bigger dresses, hoping they would cover him entirely. He grabbed a subtle pink chima (skirt) and sky blue jeogori (jacket), looking at the two items, they honestly looked complicated but he knew logically which items went where.

Namjoon did his best stripping from his masculine clothes and getting to work. He wrapped his chest and followed the order he believed for the under skirts and silks. Once fitted, he was exhausted; wrestling fabric wasn’t easy. He didn’t want to be late or leave room for doubt, so he settled for a simple braid.

He followed behind his younger sister, by a few yards, trying to mimic her walk and mannerisms, hoping that he could pass as a girl. He ducked past some officials keeping his head low until he saw the beautiful residence. A collection of young girls were already lining up with their belongings.

As fathers and brothers were going to war, some children were left without parents. This meant the children were rehomed into other families. The young women old enough were left in the kisaeng house (home for courtesan), where girls were taught how to be wives before they were sent to the matchmakers.

Hoseok had secretly been stealing his sister's clothes, trying to perfect her style of makeup. The two had such similar feminine features, the only difference was Hoseok’s athletic body. It wasn’t hard for him to slowly get the hang of her makeup and hair routines. Honestly, Hoseok thought he had a real knack for braiding hair.

He tried to round out his lean build with some makeshift breasts, but he couldn’t get them the same size; that and they had a tendency to slip. He had his chest wrap on but it was too loose around his chest and the fact he didn’t have boobs made the whole thing shift and the rice pouches he had slipped right out.

He deemed himself ready, heading out towards the kisaeng house with his coin purse on his hip. Lining up, he couldn’t help but blanch at the poor excuse of a woman standing in front of him.

Her hair was not at all perfect like his, but he seemed similarly dressed. Hoseok looked down at his own green jeogori and red chima, for a brief moment he wondered what the young girl was going through. Her family must be torn apart by the war; without a second thought, he tapped the tall woman on the shoulder, only to be greeted by Namjoon, who he recognized from their brief encounters at the postal office.

Almost revealing their identity, Hoseok covered his mouth. As the officials passed by, the two disguised men bowed politely behind their fans. The stuffing in Hoseok’s chest wrap slipped to his waist making his chest obviously lopsided. Namjoon’s face contorted in an attempt to keep his composure.

Hoseok’s laugh came out uncharacteristically deep but he remembered why he was laughing, he was trying to appear feminine. Turning his body away, he faced Namjoon, “Let me fix your hair, sweetie, you must have been upset having to see your brother leave.”

“Ah thank you,” Namjoon said with a sweet soft voice. The two turned away from the officials so that Hoseok could fix his breast dilemma and also tame Namjoon’s hair before the two of them were found out as fakes. After doing a beautiful updo where Hoseok added one of his spare combs for decoration, he turned Namjoon to face him in order to add a little makeup from his floral coin purse.

Seokjin felt betrayed by his family; his father lied about the three of them going to war. It seemed as a Nobleman he was exempt, and as his older brother was the firstborn he was also exempt in order to carry on the family name.

Seokjin however was the spare son. This meant he was expendable. He was begrudgingly on his way to the front gate of town ready to hand over his ID and his life to some stupid war when he heard the uncharacteristic masculine giggles from the line of young women waiting to spend their days pouring tea and strolling through town while he trekked the countryside and fought for his life and theirs.

He followed the sound, eyes catching on two rather tall figures, and it didn’t take long to recognize Hoseok’s face. He couldn’t forget the face of his mailman and he had to admit it was a bit of a feat that he and the rather tall looking young man were both trying to pass as young women. Seokjin looked down at the sword on his waist and contemplated seriously about joining the two.

He caught sight of a beautiful silk chima in a brilliant dusty rose color, he leaned over the counter, “Excuse me, ma’am, I would like to buy this beautiful set for my sister before I leave.” He exchanged some of his coins making sure he had enough for what he had planned. He threw in a veil as well, not to cover his beautiful face but to offer to the taller man he saw with Hoseok, whose jawline was just a little too masculine.

Seokjin got dressed behind the postal office; he stepped out once more making sure to cut in line in front of Hoseok. Seokjin offered the tall man ahead of him the pretty lace veil which matched his outfit. “For your jawline, it is too prominent you must appear more dainty,” Seokjin muttered with a swish of his skirt. He was thankful he hadn’t fallen on his face with how much fabric encircled him.

The tall man took the offered fabric wrapping it around his face only to have Seokjin swat his hands away, “You are hopeless.”

“Ah Namjoon, this is Seokjin,” Hoseok gestured between the two.

The boys spent a few moments brainstorming new names and identities, in order to really get into character.

It didn’t take long for the three to reach the front of the line; they had taken to preening each other, trying to help one another appear more feminine. Seokjin almost anticipated Namsoon’s refusal but when he wasn’t pushed out, it was Seokjin’s turn. Stepping inside, he was met by a woman dressed in a brilliant dark grey chima and orange Jeogori. Her eyes had a sharp glint. The smirk on her face was prominent as she brushed her small fingers across her chin. “What brings you to my home, young lady?”

Jungkook was camping a few paces into the tree line behind the blacksmiths. He hoped he could look after his father and not get caught for staying home. He saw the officials handing out exemption passes and he knew he couldn’t leave. Not when the enemy had such large numbers behind them.

Jungkook went hunting, he didn’t want to bother his father by being an extra burden on their small supply of food. Catching something significant for dinner, Jungkook did his best to prepare the meat and then cooked it over a small fire.

The shadows crawled across the ground as the sun bowed behind the hills. Jungkook wondered if life could be this easy without wars and evil, if there could be harmony and peace one day.

Jungkook heard a commotion in town and frowned, going to the edge of the forest to listen. “The King has heard people have paid their way out of deployment, anyone caught will be sentenced to death. Come forward now and you will be spared and sent off with your fellow men.” The man read from the scroll, looking about the village. “We will now commence inspecting every household”

A few men stepped forward, walking to the front gate and signing their deployment. A few retreated and were cut down by the bite of the swords from the royal guards. There was running coming from his left and a small figure spoke quickly; “Run, the guards are coming”

Jungkook followed after the thin figure and the two stopped at the nearest window and climbed in. They were caught by a young woman dressed regally in orange, grey, and gold, “Good evening, can I help you?”

“Uh… we um?” Jungkook was embarrassed.

“I will happily help two young ladies such as yourself, but, you will have to dress quickly if you wish to make dinner”

Ladies? Dress for dinner? Jungkook was confused, the sound of the royal guard growing louder as they searched for any men hiding from their duties. He looked up at the woman catching her eye, she smirked knowingly.

“You wouldn’t want the guards catching you underdressed now would you?” He realized then that she was offering them refuge.

The two nodded, taking the clothes thrown in their direction, rushing to dress. The woman helped tie their jeogori before leading them out to the Sigdang (dining hall). She led them to a table filled with some other strange looking ladies, some of which Jungkook could have sworn were in disguise as well. Was that Taehyung?

Taehyung smiled seeing the two new additions to their group. He recognized the blacksmith anywhere and smiled trying to get the young man’s attention. Giggling when he did just that, Taehyung hadn’t spoken with Jungkook for long the day they met but he knew those wide curious eyes. They looked just as confused when Taehyung handed him a rope that afternoon by his family's farmhouse.

The woman was in on it, when Jimin and Taehyung came up with the idea, they didn’t expect Jimin’s Gran to not only hear their plan but also support it. She went out of her way to speak with the woman known as Hojang (head of house).

The bargain was to take in the two gentlemen who would protect the women and to provide free wine for the building next door. Kisaeng was a place where women could stay and learn all the things a woman should know before marriage.

Next door, however, was the tea house, at least during the day. At night it was filled with men, mostly guards and officials who would drink and dabble with opioids in the company of fine young women.

These women were not forced to be there, but those who chose to be would leave with their coin purses filled. Some of the money was used to fund the house, and the rest was pocket money they could spend on new silks and anything else they desired.

Taehyung learned quite a lot about this during the days leading up to the deployment. The Hojang held such a big presence; she moved with grace and did business with the best.

Jimin’s Gran had painstakingly obtained the silk and hand made clothes tailored to her grandson’s and Taehyung’s bodies. She also taught them how to sit, stand, walk and dress like a lady. The two were doing rather well but the hojang scrutinized every little detail that they should work on in her home.

Taehyung could see she expected nothing less than perfection from her girls and she wouldn’t make an exception for them. She would make proper ladies out of them if it took everything she had, and perhaps a little more.

Gran had always taught Jimin things that she loved herself. Jimin remembered dancing with his gran every afternoon, when he was young, the two would hold beautiful fans and perform. Jimin would do anything to make his gran happy.

The Hojang picked up on this early, pleased with his form but it didn’t last long when he opened his mouth. Though his voice was sweet, the words and drawl were masculine and crass.

Jimin was surprised when Taehyung and himself were joined by more young men in dresses. He didn’t think anyone else would have the guts or the stupidity to join the house. He tried to fight the smirk that stretched across his face when he saw the three young men sitting across the table.

The Hojang had laid out the rules that they had to obey while living in her house: they were not to touch any of the women, they were to share a room by themselves, they were to only refer to themselves as their female alter egos, and they were to act like graceful ladies at all times.

Jimin greeted the newcomers. “My name is Park Jimin” He smiled sweetly. He was glad his name was widely used by both girls and boys or he would have to remember something else.

“Namsoon,” the tallest smiled, holding out a large hand to shake but immediately retracted it with a small shy smile. ‘Definitely a boy.’ Jimin thought.

“Seojin,” the broad shoulders were giving Jimin mixed thoughts. However, no matter if they were a female or male, Jimin knew this person was beautiful.

“Hye-Seong,” a cute voice said, surprising Jimin. The voice was a little nasally but it belonged to a man none-the-less. The group turned to the two newcomers dressed in beautiful silks and ribbons, their hair braided down their backs.

“Yoonji” A familiar deep drawl spoke, making Jimin drop his chopsticks looking over at him shocked. Jimin looked Yoongi over, seeing that the young man actually made a rather beautiful woman, he almost felt himself blush.

“My name is uh… Jeong-suk” Jimin found it almost laughable.‘Jeongsuk’s build was almost unbearably muscular in the outfit, it wasn’t fitted to him at all. He looked like he was an overloaded dumpling the way the fabric worked over-time to conceal him.

“Hi, My name is Taeyeon, it is nice to meet everyone” Jimin laughed at how deep Taehyung’s voice sounded before he lifted the pitch.

Yoongi couldn’t believe his father talked him into staying only to have it backfire. Yoongi thought finally he would be able to get away from his father and the immoral activities he orchestrated.

Now he was pretending to be a woman, this was probably the biggest disrespect he could have ever felt. He almost wanted to walk out onto the streets and hand himself in. He would take death over the humiliation.

“Alright ladies everyone at your table will be sleeping in your quarters, the token on your table is the room color you will be staying in,” Hojang clapped her hands. Yoongi looked at the token on the table and Jimin lifted it for all the occupants to see the Yellow wooden piece “I would like you all to bathe and get to bed as quickly as you can, as we have lessons tomorrow. And I will not have any giggling or you will be eating bean soup for the whole week.”

The girls obeyed the Hojang’s instruction and started filling out. Yoongi watched in amusement at the kid he had met in the forest leaning away practically in fear of the women passing by.

“I would like the yellow table to please stay behind.” The Hojang announced.

Yoongi sighed, wondering what this woman had to say to him and his new friends. Once the room was empty, the Hojang addressed them.

“I am happy to house you all, but you will follow my rules and I will teach you what you need to know. I will have you getting men to empty their pockets and you won’t have to do anything more than throwing them a coy smile.” Humming, the Hojang looked at them all over, eyes settling on Yoongi’s making him feel vulnerable.

“I can see who has good intentions, and I can see who thinks that women have it easy. I will show you what it means to be a woman, the struggles you will face.” She gestured the group to stand. Yoongi struggled, trying to get up as he was stepping on his skirt. He really tried to correct himself, but it was too late the fabric under his foot tore. The Hojang sent a disappointed and disapproving glare.

“Miss Namsoon, your sister is here, I have warned her to not refer to you as her brother nor Namjoon. I have told her if anyone finds out you are men, you will be killed. Your room is secluded across the courtyard and has its own private hot spring. So please bathe there and nowhere else. If I find out you are perving on my girls, I will turn you into eunuchs.”

Yoongi swallowed audibly. He felt respect for this woman. But he was also scared of her.

Summer 1654 Hanseong,

The past three moon cycles have been particularly painful. I have seen so much and started to really appreciate what women have to go through, if only from the first lesson that left us all so exhausted. The list of expectations of a woman before she could even be considered for marriage is frightful. The Hojang confiscated my books and ceased my ability to speak freely. My mentor explained Confucius’ teachings on how important it is to speak your mind and be true to yourself. But the first lesson from Hojang was not the same. I am proud to say I have grown, I now truly see how important words are.

Kim Namjoon

The day began with cleaning their sleeping quarters and heading to the sigdang, where they were to cook their own meals as was expected of wives (unless of course, they were wives of noblemen who had servants). Namjoon looked at the ingredients rather unsurely, he had no idea what one was supposed to do with them.

He was a smart guy, he knew what everything was and how it ended up together, but the process in between wasn’t something he was familiar with. He saw Jimin take the rice and begin washing it without instruction. Jimin explained his family worked with rice for their business, making rice wine and that his gran was particularly fond of rice cakes.

“Why do you wash the rice?” Seo-jin curiously asked, Namjoon turned and watched the younger man work confidently with the ingredients.

“To make it fluffy,” he smiled, “you have to wash the rice to get the frothy stuff off the top of the water.”

The Hojang had invited a wholesome old woman for the cooking class; her small plump figure held such a firecracker personality. She spoke so lively and made the whole lesson amusing.

“Now chop them into half-moons,” the woman smiled. “Be careful of your fingers, curl your hand into almost a fist and hold the knife against the back of your knuckles to prevent slipping and losing a finger.” Namjoon was trying to follow the instruction, but he heard an exasperated sigh from Yoonji.

“Stop, let me.” It was impressive how Yoonji’s hands moved so quickly and precisely while cutting the vegetables.

Namjoon knew at this moment cooking wasn’t for him but judging by the wonder in Seojin’s eyes, it resonated more with him. Taking his notebook out, Namjoon thought it best to write down the instructions the woman was giving on cooking so that he might be able to learn and practice.

The Hojang had other plans, taking the book from his hands and leaning down. “Ladies shouldn’t burden themselves with reading and writing,” her words were bitter through the clenched teeth of a forced smile. She clearly didn’t believe what she was saying as she herself could read and write.

Namjoon realized that this was a privilege only for the king, the nobleman, the officials, and scholars. Namjoon realized that he had yet to meet a female scholar.

The house had been given some free time from the grueling lessons. Honestly, if Hoseok had to pour tea again and have the Hojang smack his elbows with the thin bamboo stick whenever they stuck out too far, he would rip his hair out. On top of that, it was frustrating not to be able to speak out and stand up for himself without getting another sharp tap across his hand.

The boys had all sat in the room that night discussing how the Hojang was abusing them for her own pleasure. “It has to be to get back at us for being male and suppressing her.”

The chance to be free was something important to Hoseok. He was a mailman for a reason, and that reason was to move when and where he wanted to, never be tied down and confined to one place.

Being held up in the kisaeng house was making Hoseok restless, so during this free time, there was nothing that could stop him from racing out from the cage he was supposed to call home. Taking to the streets, it was market day and vendors and merchants were in the town square selling anything and everything he could think of and more. With his coin purse on his hip, he began walking with a practiced giggle.

He almost resented the persona he was to live with, enforced by the hojang. Perhaps it was just because he was thinking of the woman, but Hoseok could swear he felt her gaze. Looking over his shoulder there she was standing on the front porch, parasol in hand, staring directly at him, as if to mentally remind him of the damned curfew.

Could that woman relax at all? Could she just learn to chill and have some fun for once? Hoseok huffed; some fun would probably make her less cranky, but he couldn’t see her acting nicer, that in itself was a scary thought.

Hoseok went past his home and saw both his sister and mother outside playing with the children they took in after he had left. He smiled; they looked happy and healthy and that was reassuring. ‘Perhaps I was worried for nothing.’

As he was heading back, he started wondering if he should have gone to war and defended his country. He shook his head; it was too late now, he had to accept his fate no matter how grueling it got.

Scuffing his feet on the way back to the town square, a sly smile creeping across his face at the thought of the scolding he would receive for doing something unladylike, like walking ungracefully.

“I have to get back, the Hojang will be expecting me.” A small feminine voice spoke, so timid and laced with fear. Hoseok looked down the small lane to see some of the young ladies from the kisaeng house cornered by a much larger group of royal guards.

Hoseok paused, looking on wondering if they were trying what he thought they would do. He didn’t have to wait long to confirm that yes, in fact, they were. He stepped closer. “Ladies, we all have to head home now. We can’t keep the Hojang waiting,” Hoseok said a little cutely.

“We are just talking, come join us,” one of the guards said. “The more the merrier.”

Hoseok was guided over, he would have smacked away the guard’s hand on his lower back but it would reveal his identity.

He tried to squirm from the older man’s grasp. He smelt like alcohol. Amongst the women was Seojin, standing there looking concerned as he was eyed by the plethora of strong men.

Seokjin looked at Hye-Seong, he didn’t know why but he was tense. On a regular day, he was always unbothered, he was taught that as a nobleman there should be nothing he feared, not even death.

Why did he feel so vulnerable? This was so unlike him. It was like he couldn’t say or do anything as one of the men pointed out how ‘cute’ he was while sliding his hand down Seokjin’s back.

He felt a sense of dread, he honestly had never felt so scared in his life. Scared of what these men might do to him, what they might do when they found out. He was spared from any horrors he could think of when he heard a familiar voice, one that he usually cowered under.

There she was, the hojang. She slowly closed her parasol and fastened it shut with a ribbon, before looking at the girls. “Head back home and you can start the dinner preparations early,” she smiled reassuringly.

Hye-Seong gestured for the girls to go and Seokjin took a moment trying to muster the courage to leave. “Seojin, head back.” A soft hand landed on his broad shoulder, the Hojang was smaller than him and Seokjin had no idea how strong she was but she looked at him and he knew nothing could hurt him.

Walking away he looked back and felt a swell of admiration for the woman who didn’t bow in front of the palace officials. They stepped forward and he felt scared once more, she did in fact look smaller in front of them despite never faltering.

Seokjin and Hoseok waited behind the Hojang, the two floundering on whether to go for help or to stand in her place. Suddenly, three figures barged past Seokjin with determination. Jimin, Yoonji, and Jeong-suk were all shoulders and fists stepping in front of the Hojang.

“Ya, you have a problem?” Jimin’s voice was sweet and yet laced heavy with warning. It took the men by surprise as Jimin moved like he was dancing but ended up driving one of the men’s faces into the ground. Still, with his sweet expression, he said with a sense of finality, “We will be going home now.”

It took a long time for Jungkook to get used to having people around his age constantly in his presence. He never had any big brother figures, it was just him and his father and they mostly worked in the shop. Of course, Jungkook’s father taught him many important life lessons, and he was thankful for them.

There was just something that grew in Jungkook like he had been locked up in his mind when he was working in the blacksmiths. It took a long time but eventually, Jungkook felt his shell break, and all his thoughts and feelings could be let out and expressed.

Nurtured by the open and honest environment in the kisaeng, he found himself no longer hiding away from the women, but instead connecting with them. Jungkook always took laundry duty for his sleeping quarter; he loved the smell of the clean fabrics and he also enjoyed the time with the women by the stream.

One would start singing to pass the time and the others would join in, they each made songs and they would sing it a few times until it felt right. Of course, Jungkook had his favorites and he would sing them as he strolled around the enclosed gardens.

Just one day, if I can be with you, Just one day, if I can hold your hands, Just one day, if I can be with you Just one day, just one day If only we can be together

For some, it was easy to adjust to the new way of life, for Taehyung it was not, with an abundance of energy he tried his best to expel it all. At first, he found a ball, and he and Jimin went outside to kick it around but were scolded by the Hojang who said “Women shouldn’t be seen doing anything masculine,” and apparently that included running around, playing sports, or just anything Taehyung deemed fun.

It wasn’t for lack of trying; Taehyung would find a new activity and a new area in the house or in the inner courtyard. He would barely set up or have a few moments of fun before he heard the voice that haunted him even in his dreams.

“Taeyeon, follow me,” Taehyung sighed, dropping the small ball he had been kicking between him and some of the young girls, perhaps he was a bit of a bad influence. He walked slowly after the Hojang. Mentally cursing her and stepping quickly in an effort to step on the back of her skirt so she would trip but she was too quick.

She led him into a small room he hadn’t seen before and he got nervous; was he being punished for disobeying the rules? He eyed the bamboo cane in her hand while she moved about the room and made up two desks. She placed a sweet flower arrangement on one and a stiff parchment pinned to a board on the other.

“Sit and watch, and then I will let you have a go. I promise you will have fun.” She explained how to grind the dyes and how to mix them perfectly before she began painting the flowers within the vase.

Taehyung was fascinated by the way the picture came to life, although there was a moment of confusion and doubt before it all came together. She spoke slowly, describing her technique. “You will develop your own technique that will feel right to you. Feel free to come here often and practice, let out your energy.”

“I can?” He seemed excited.

“A lady can do dainty activities, ones that are seen as beautiful and feminine.” She said softly.

“Why do you have so many rules?” He blurted out and winced, ready for a scolding but only felt a soft pat on his head.

“They aren’t my rules, no man will marry these ladies if they don’t meet these basic standards. Ask any man who they want to marry; they want someone who cooks and cleans, who doesn’t speak too much and is beautiful and feminine.” She sighed, “I would teach them how to read and write, but they are not expected to. I would teach them to fight and protect themselves but then they will not be seen as desirable young flowers, they would have too many thorns.”

Taehyung nodded slowly, and following the Hojang’s directions, began setting up his paints and parchment. He was allowed to paint whatever he wished. When he was done he frowned. “It doesn’t look nice.”

“What do you mean? Look at the depth you created here, you have such a good style, Taeyeon. Keep drawing until you grow comfortable and like what you have painted, but I will keep this one. Your first painting is precious.” She began to leave, “Don’t stay up too long, you have more lessons tomorrow.”

“Miss Hojang, I have a question?” Taehyung's voice was soft and curious as he turned away from the canvas. “If you could do anything that you ever wanted, what would it be?”

“Goodnight Taehyung,” she gave a small chuckle, smiling for the first time since Taehyung met her, and his opinion changed at that moment. She wasn’t as evil as he first thought.

It wasn’t long until Taehyung had told the whole group about the hojang; how she was actually a really considerate woman, who had nothing but good intentions for the girls she was protecting.

The boys talked about how the expectations were so unfair, that the girls should learn how to protect themselves and they should be educated. “I wish I could just teach them how to defend themselves,” Jimin hummed. “I learned from a young age how to fight, I could definitely show them some things.”

“I could teach them how to read and write, you could teach them how to fight,” The idea sparked inside Namsoon, they headed off to the hojang to present the idea, who agreed to their proposal.

Jimin led the class through the stretches thanking the girls for their cooperation, he had been teaching for two months and the girls were getting rather good. They really loved these new classes, they were so unlike what they were used to. It was hard for Jimin to teach his class in a dress but he made it work. Jimin had never felt prouder when he heard of stories of the ladies in the tea house defending themselves and others against rowdy patrons.

He also helped Hye-Seong with his dance practice, it seemed he really liked the class. Hyeseong mentioned to Jimin after their first dance class how he had never felt freer in his life, and after a few more, Hyeseong was moving his body freely to the music.

Jimin loved the idea that his friends enjoyed things that could be considered feminine, just like the things he liked. Maybe he wasn’t odd for liking dancing if his friends enjoyed art and simple house chores and cooking.

Yoongi had snuck out to speak with his father not because he particularly cared for the man, but he just knew his father would be angry if he didn’t report to him. He was climbing over the fence when he heard a cough behind him. “Yoonji where are you going?” Jeongsuk asked in a tiny voice.

“I have to see my father,” he spoke softly, trying not to wake anyone else up, “You should go back to bed.”

“I will come with you,” Jeongsuk smiled, climbing over the fence with Yoongi who sighed. The two walked along the dirt road until they arrived at the butchers.

“Wait here, Jeongsuk,” Yoongi spoke seriously, and quietly gestured to the spot just outside the lights of the street lamps. “I will be back.”

“My name is Jungkook,” He grabbed the sleeve of Yoongi’s jeogori before he pulled it off and helped him change into his masculine clothes and tied his hair up. “I know we aren’t supposed to tell each other our names but I need to say it, I need to feel like me for a little bit.”

“Yoongi,” he patted the younger boy's head, “Stay here Jungkook.”

He walked inside, nervous to see his father, and to hear what he would say. Meeting his father’s gaze across the room of laughing drunk men, his father stood up looking as harsh as always. “Where did you run off to?”

“The officials came, they were killing everyone, I just went off for a bit until they lost me.”

“Where have you been, you look awfully clean.” A slur drew Yoongi’s eyes from his father. Yoongi knew he would have to answer truthfully or he would be found out and beaten.

“I was hiding at the Kisaeng house,” he sighed.

“At the kisaeng house?” his father said. “What, are you pretending to be a girl?”

“Yes, I am,” he said, ears a little pink, and perhaps he should have just taken the beating.

“No son of mine is dressing as a woman!” His father shooed Yoongi, his hand pointing to the door. “Get out, I didn’t raise you to become a whore.”

“I only used it as a place to hide, I am back now.” Yoongi sighed nonchalantly, trying to get his father to calm down.

“If you don’t get out, I will kick your ass,” his father said, taking long strides until he was towering over his son. “I didn’t raise you for twenty-six years only to have you acting like some delicate flower. You always looked too much like your mother.” He raised his hand to hit Yoongi. Without flinching or shying away Yoongi waited for impact but it never came. A hand had clasped around his father's wrist.

“Hey, let’s just go back,” Jungkook said, letting go of the butcher’s hand then towing a struggling Yoongi behind him.

“Let me go,” Yoongi hissed as they were walking back to the house. “He was right, I am a disgrace, why am I prancing around in dresses when I am a man?”

“NO!” Jungkook grabbed the older man, thankful that he was stronger. “If there is one thing I have learned about my stay here, it is that women aren’t weak, they aren’t to be looked down on.”

“Good for you, I don’t need this disrespect.”

“Why do you care so much about what your father and those bad men think, you know they are scum. You aren’t, Yoongi. You left and you are a good person,” Jungkook protested.

“Did you not see what was on the tables?” Jungkook said. “Land deeds, they are strong-arming women and children from their homes, taking ownership of land that isn’t theirs. We must use what we have to our advantage.”

“What do we have, dancing and the ability to pour drinks for men.”

“I don’t know but if we don’t do something, your father and those men will only make things worse, you have nowhere else to go.”

How Jungkook got Yoongi to come back with him he would never know but he was thankful he did. As the two climbed over the wall to the kisaeng house, they were unaware of a pair of eyes watching them.

Summers End 1654 Hanseong,

Things have gotten worse. The officials have suspected someone in the kisaeng house is a man, it won’t be long before they send someone to investigate. We are trying to figure out how we can hide them and their extra appendages, but the situation doesn’t seem very hopeful. If things keep going the way they are, the town will become slaves to the merchants and no woman or child will be safe from their wrath.

Yeong-hui (Hojang of the Kisaeng house)

There was an abrupt knock at the door, startling the Hojang. She sat up and began dressing, as a woman should never be seen underdressed, then she opened the door. The steward bowed low before relaying a message. “There are officials at the front gate, asking to enter the premise.”

Yeong-hui didn’t waste any time. Tying her hair as she walked, looking regal as always, she stopped at the front gate and signaled for the doors to be opened.

“Miss Yeong-hui, we have heard multiple rumors that the Kisaeng house is harboring a fugitive from war—” one of the officials started.

“I will stop you right there,” Yeong-hui interrupted. “You have the right to search the property only when my girls have woken and dressed appropriately. It is perverse for you to even insinuate that I would allow you to enter while they are sleeping. You shall be allowed entry in when the sunlight reaches the Jing (gong) in the town center.”

Yeong-hui gestured behind them to the Jing and the man went to argue.

“No exceptions. Cooperate, or when you find there is no fugitive within these walls that you have barged into for nothing more than a story,” she eyed their Baji (lower part of a man’s hanbok), “well then I guess I could use a few more eunuch’s to help with chores now, don’t I?”

The men squirmed and the man leading the search party faltered.

“I would also like to see the confirmation letter from the king as I want proof you are allowed to step foot into my home,” Yeong-Hui added.

“Fine, we will get permission from the King. We will return at the specified time and nothing will stop us searching the premise and the ‘girls’ within the walls,” the leader of the search squad huffed before steering his men away from the front gate.

Yeong-hui headed inside, waking the young women early. She raced to the secluded sleeping quarters where the boys were staying. She saw them all sleeping haphazardly and smiled fondly.

She saw Taehyung wrapped around Namjoon, he was upside down on the older boy's futon hugging his calves, his face pressed between the scholar's ankles. Jungkook had his torso draped over Hoseok’s legs and his foot dangerously close to Seokjin’s face. Jimin’s head was on the eldest’s wide shoulders and even though Yoongi was the first away his pale thin arm stretched across the futon and was sweetly held in Jimin’s grasp.

They had all grown so much and had learned important life lessons that she was happy to be a part of their growth.

Without a moment longer, she woke the boys with a clap and a call. “Ladies, it is time to get up, the officials are sending a search party to find any man hidden within the kisaeng house.” She said, and what happened next was like a flash of lightning before the deep rumble of thunder. The boys jolted out of their beds, then a barrage of young girls burst through the doors, clutching bags of makeup, hair accessories, and armsful of fabric.

“You have to get up and get ready, the officials are coming!” Some of the ladies shouted, helping the men get dressed without batting an eyelash, ignoring the fact that they were all practically shirtless. Yeong-hui smiled softly, it seemed she had underestimated the ladies, how they had found out about the boys, and even took care of them.

It was pleasant to see them all coming together. If only they could change the way men and women interacted, if only they could show women were more intelligent and stronger than they were perceived to be.

The Kisaeng house started breakfast early. Yeong-hui explained that she would have the girls present themselves to the officials one by one and each of the boys would be placed randomly in between the girls. It would draw too much attention if the odd-looking ladies were to meet the officials one after another.

The officials came and started their interrogation. After the first group of girls was individually interviewed and scrutinized, Seokjin headed inside. If anyone could pass, it would be him. The Hojang smiled, sitting on a magnificent seat at the head of the table while the officials were off to the side, on less elaborate cushions.

“This is the beautiful Seojin, she has become the best cook in the house,” Yeong-hui smiled, and the officials blushed when Seojin blew them a kiss after taking a seat gracefully.

“Alright, next” the official stuttered after receiving a wink. Seokjin had passed.

After the next group of girls, Jimin walked into the room. As his long elegant legs strode in, there was a presence around him that made all the officials tense. He moved with allure and as he sat in perfect posture, the sleeve of his Jeogori slipped revealing a dainty shoulder and sensual clavicle.

The officials were sweating profusely, shifting in their seats. “This is Jimin, she is a dancer would you like to see?” The Hojang gestured for Jimin to begin, and Jimin started moving slowly with a delicate wave of the fan.

The officials were quick to decide and Jimin raced off smiling coyly. Another group passed and this time Hoseok came in, acting cute and charming the men. Yoongi’s turn then came, and his small frame and soft features helped him pass. When it came to Taehyung, he gave the officials his powerful gaze and devilishly said, “I can show you that I am a woman, if you want,” while playing with the hem of his skirt.

Yeong-hui was almost in stitches; something about the way these boys shamelessly flirted for their freedom had her choking back her laughter. Namjoon stepped in wearing a soft veil. “Miss Namsoon is quite a shy girl but she loves when some of the visitors to the tea house read to her.”

“Men such as yourselves would be ever so popular and have gardens of beautiful flowers for you to pick. But there is a part of me who wishes that I may be the sweet flower that you might choose.” Namjoon giggled slightly making the men nervous with such forward words “That I could be the one to make you smile. The one who can make a long day feel like it was nothing when you come home.”

Last was Jungkook who sang a song he had made to the group of men and talked about making friends whilst doing the laundry. Jungkook was allowed to leave and the men finished their search of the property before leaving, albeit a little flustered and a little sheepish for their antics earlier that morning.

The house was lively for the young women who had sensed the weight of the interviews and therefore felt the celebratory relief. Yeong-hui allowed the boys to run around and play freely; they and a few young women began kicking a ball around the inner courtyard.

As the group dwindled, Yoongi was left sitting on the porch, his head tilted back, eyes shut enjoying the breeze. Yeong-hui grabbed a bottle of the Park family's best soju and two ceramic glasses, then moved across the hand-polished wooden floor before sitting down, legs dangling over the edge beside Yoongi.

“You care for a drink?” Yeong-hui smiled softly waving the bottle in her hand. Yoongi nodded, moving to take the bottle as he was younger, but she began pouring for him. She poured elegantly and effortlessly, making no mistake as if she was demonstrating in front of the class.

Yoongi thanked her politely and the two began drinking in silence. It didn’t take long for Yoongi to spill all his troubles, expressing his struggles from the beginning.

“I can’t touch him, I will have to leave the town, my father won’t allow me to stay. He has a pile of land deeds so even if I found a place somewhere, he likely owns it.” Yoongi downed the next glass. “I could show him how good women are, that they aren’t delicate flowers, that they can plot and scheme and m I could probably steal the land deeds right from under his nose.”

“Well, why don’t we do just that?” Yeong-hui smiled, and the two began plotting an elaborate coup to retrieve the land deeds. Yeong-hui walked slowly, leading Yoongi back to his quarters but when they got close, they could hear Seokjin’s voice shouting.

“I knew it! I knew those words sounded familiar! You have been reading my letters?” Seokjin said “...have gardens of beautiful flowers for you to pick. But there is a part of me who wishes that I may be the sweet flower that you might choose.”

Hoseok was cackling and pointed out, “he didn’t read them, he is the one who wrote them!”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asked, his voice almost dying down.

“The women in town would pay me to write love letters addressed to you,” Namjoon said cautiously, and the group laughed.

Autumn Chuseok (Harvest festival) 1654 Hanseong,

It took a lot of planning and preparation but everyone was willing and ready to do their job. Tonight was the Chuseok festival; the tea house was open and the ladies of the kisaeng walked the streets dressed elaborately, inviting men inside to drink at a fee.

Usually, each young woman would bring in men who looked like they were of noble status. They were advised to stay clear of any man wearing the bandit emblem. Tonight, however, it was encouraged. The unsavory men were led inside and shown all the respects of a nobleman if not more. The women were working undercover and they weren’t going to let the operation down.

Within the tea house were Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jungkook. While working, Yoongi was explaining who was who, and soon they had their targets. The boys split up, getting to work trying to impress the merchants, and having them each pay more and more money for some alcohol.

Yoongi as Yoonji was making quick work of his targets, whispering filthy things in their ears and having them drink until they were inebriated. Then he took their coin pouches and moved on to the next unsuspecting victim, who was also a member of his father’s gang.

Across town, Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok, accompanied by a handful of the kisaeng, headed to Yoongi’s father's home. Jimin was quick to move up the side of the building, slipping upstairs while the men were drinking boisterously downstairs. Jimin was light-footed and found the small box hidden just as Yoongi had described.

He took the box, it was heavy with deeds, gold, and more, and as he moved to escape, he bumped his foot on the side of the table.

“Did you hear that?”

Jimin froze.

“Good evening would you men be interested in going to the kisaeng tea house? We have many delicious festival snacks for you to try?” Taehyung said playfully and the men blushed to see a group of women poking their heads into the butcher’s home.

The men looked flustered and eventually refused to say they had to stay and take care of the place. Jimin was able to escape and the group graciously began heading back to the kisaeng house.

They were almost back safe within the kisaeng walls when they heard a shout.

“Hey!” The group froze, Jimin hiding with the box in the middle of the group. “You dropped this” The man smiled, blushing profusely having to talk to a stunning Taehyung.

Taehyung took his handkerchief and smiled, “thank you.” The group continued on their way, hurrying inside the house where they met Namjoon, working hard over a desk.

In the days leading to the coup, Namjoon and Yeong-hui had taken a census of families within the village. They found that the gang had been procuring land for many years before the war.

Namjoon, with the newly acquired land deeds from Yoongi’s father’s house, was now dividing land and profits, ensuring each family would have a home and land to live on.

The next morning, the members of the gang were regretful of their night and were in foul moods. Yoongi’s father marched to the kisaeng house and began pounding his fists on the doors, demanding to enter the premises.

Yeong-hui signaled the doors to be opened, and the man entered, alone. He stepped forward, looking at the group of women dressed in baji and holding weapons. The man spotted Yoongi standing on the far end of the inner courtyard.

Yeong-hui walked through the group of women until she stood in front of Yoongi who was dressed as a woman and was not at all ashamed. “You stole from me, you little rat?” Yoongi nodded. His father’s face was bright red, “I will kill you!”

The women moved with a loud cry and the man faltered, releasing a mocking laugh. “You think you can hurt me?”

“Yes, I believe we can,” Jimin smiled, standing in front of the women, just in case the man was an unexpected fighter. He was a street merchant after all and they weren’t known for fighting fair. However, it seemed the women were holding their own, as they started knocking the man to the ground.

Spring 1655 Hanseong,

With the power restored, the people are thriving, the women are stronger than ever. The land is now divided, ensuring there are better harvests and more trade among the vendors. I have been working to teach the girls in the kisaeng how to read and write, training them to be scholars. Seokjin and I are planning to present the young women in front of the king, as well-educated scholars.

Seokjin has been around a lot. Having perfected his cooking skills, he happily teaches the women his favorite dishes. Something about being free and independent and able to make his food makes the man happy. He likes how free he feels, admitting he originally thought it was the women who were free to do whatever they wanted but he was wrong.

Yoongi has found he has a real talent for playing some of the instruments, and he and Jungkook spend their days making songs. Hoseok and Jimin enjoy dancing and are some of the best dancers, and Jimin also spends his time teaching the young ladies how to defend themselves. Jungkook has made light-weight weapons for the women who find themselves in the ways of fighting.

Taehyung teaches Art and keeps things in the kisaeng house light with sports and games. It wasn’t long before a new age began, the age of female growth.

Let’s just say when the fathers, brothers, and husbands return home from war they will be in for quite a shock, as every family now owns the land and the land deeds are under the women’s names. The women are all stronger, smarter, and happier.

Every day the Hojang fights to liberate her girls more and more, we help however we can even if we have to dress up as women to do it. As for the Hojang, Miss Yeong-hui, whose name means eternal play, she has changed her name to Jester. She is now working on a project to use some of the young women trained to fight for future espionage.

Kim Namjoon

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