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Chapter 21
I GET TO THE STATUE OF KING SEJONG THE GREATa few minutes early. Minjee isn’t here yet, so I peer up at the bronze statue of the famous monarch who invented the Korean alphabet with a trusted team of scholars in the 1400s. It’s a massive statue, majestic and shiny in the middle of the busy and bustling urban square. As I stare at its outstretched hand and regal throne, I can’t help but wonder what King Sejong would think of me, a Korean girl who was born a whole ocean and continent away and had to painstakingly learn—and still sometimes struggles with—the language he invented.
I hope he’d be proud of me. At least I’m trying, right?
“Hey!” Minjee says as she reaches me. “Glad you could make it. I have a whole day planned for us. Are you okay with a bit of walking?”
Instead of her usual full face of dramatic makeup, Minjee has on her more natural look, which is how the hair and makeup ladies do her makeup when we’re on set. She’sgorgeous either way, but her more plain makeup confuses me since we’re not shooting any scenes today.
“Yeah, that’s fine! But where are you taking me?” I ask, equal parts amused and wary.
“You’ll see,” she just says with a wink.
We head up north toward the Gyeongbokgung Royal Palace gates, where majestic hanbok-clad palace guards stand at attention with their flags and spears. At first, I think we’re going into the palace grounds, but Minjee leads me around the gates to a street with lots of shops.
As we’re walking, we’re surrounded by people from all over the world, dressed in both modern and traditional Korean clothes alike, eating street food and speaking in different languages. Wherever I look, I see groups taking selfies together in their rented-out hanbok, or just browsing the stalls and gift shops. I’ve never been to this part of the city before—my parents and I just went directly to the palace or the museums around it—so I’m fascinated... and I’m pretty sure I know what Minjee has in store for me.
“Are we here to rent hanbok?” I ask after we pass by a storefront window with a mannequin in a beautiful bright red hanbok.
Minjee grins. “That’s the first part, yeah.”
The last and one of the only times I wore a hanbok was forFated Destiny, so I have no idea how today will go. But I still let Minjee lead me into one of the cute hanbok shops. The store is pretty crowded inside, filled with both Koreans andnon-Koreans alike. Racks of many different hanbok pieces from blouses to skirts to accessories like hats and fake flowers line the walls of the store, with busy employees bustling about to direct people to the changing stalls.
One of the employees, a lady who looks around my mom’s age, glances at us and does a double take.
“Jin Hana and Park Minjee?” she says with a gasp. “FromFated Destiny?”
In that instant, dozens of people snap their attention to us, pulling out their phones or whispering excitedly among themselves. I smile and give everyone mini bows while Minjee bows at the lady and replies, “Yes, that’s us. We’d like to rent two hanbok, please. For us to try on for fun, not for the show.”
The lady shakes our hands. When she pulls away, I see that she’s left her business card in mine. I have to smile at her business savvy.
“Of course, of course,” she says. “Welcome! I’m the manager of this store. Let me show you our most beautiful collection. And just so you know, whatever you rent today is totally on us. Please do put in a good word for us to the people at the studio, though.”
“Will do!” replies Minjee. “Thank you.”
The lady leads us past the crowded general room to a secluded room with a smaller but definitely more luxurious selection of hanbok. These look so delicate with their fine golden embroidery and pastel colors. With just one glance, I can tell they’re way more expensive than the ones in the mainroom. My jaw drops at how beautiful they are.
“We couldn’t possibly rent these for free,” I protest before the lady leaves. “Please, let us pay you!”
She shakes her head furiously like I’ve insulted her. “Nonsense! You will do no such thing. Please just walk around the city and take lots of photos. I can guarantee that alone will bring us a lot of profit.”
I still feel bad about the whole thing, but the lady looks so determined that I just bow at her again. “Okay, thank you.”
“Take as long as you’d like to choose!” she says before closing the door behind her.
“Hey, Hana!” Minjee exclaims. “Come here for a sec!”
I turn around to see Minjee holding out a gorgeous hanbok with a pearl-white blouse and a pink skirt with elegant flowers embroidered on it. The skirt has a golden hem as a nice finishing touch and the blouse has a pink bow. It’s gorgeous yet understated. Beautiful yet airy. The more I look at it, the more I notice intricate details in the design.
“This hanbok was made for you,” she says. “You should try it on! I found a matching one for me, too.”
In her other hand, she holds up a hanbok that’s similar to mine but has a bright red skirt instead of a pastel pink one.
“I can’t wait to see how cute we’ll look in these.” Minjee gives me a wide, toothy grin, and I can’t help it. I smile back. Her enthusiasm is contagious.
We help each other into our hanbok, and when we’re done, our reflections in the mirror make me grin so wide that myface hurts. The hanbok inFated Destinyare gorgeous, but they’re super formal—to be as historically accurate as possible—and honestly sometimes even suffocating. They make both Minjee and me look older than we really are. Now, though, we look like two normal high school girls in pretty but elegant hanbok.
Minjee and I snap as many selfies together as possible. As we’re throwing up victory signs and making faces at the camera, I feel really giddy.
