Chapter 41: A Letter from Pyongyang

The tips of my fingers refused to obey.

The sound of paper tearing echoed like thunder in the empty room.

I took out the letter.

Clumsy, yet neat Hangul in Western-style Script.

Oppa.

The moment I read the first word, my breath stopped.

Oppa?

Did I… have a younger sister?

I am your second younger sibling, Suyoun. I don’t know if Oppa remembers me. When you left for the United States, I was only ten years old.

Suyoun.

The name felt unfamiliar, and yet, somehow faintly familiar.

No, what is this feeling?

Not long ago, I saw Oppa’s article in the newspaper. Isn’t it amazing? That an American newspaper called the New York Times made it all the way to faraway Joseon? Father managed to get a copy with great difficulty when he went to the marketplace.

Father.

Another word struck hard against my frozen chest.

You made a lot of money in Cuba from the sugar business? I couldn’t believe it was really my brother, so I looked at the tiny photo in the newspaper over and over. It was blurry, but it was you. My Oppa.

Lee Jun-hyuk staggered and sat heavily on the bed.

His legs lost all strength.

The letter continued.

Father and Mother were truly delighted. Especially Mother, she clung to Oppa’s article and cried for a long time. For seven years, we didn’t hear a single word from you.

Seven years.

I see.

The original owner of this body left his family at nineteen to come to the United States.

The other younger siblings are all doing well. The third child, Jeonghoon, is now attending middle school. He’s such a good student that the neighborhood teachers never stop praising him. He says he wants to be a judge who serves the nation in the future.

Jeonghoon. So there was a younger brother.

The fourth, Mincheol, is still a rascal. He runs around the whole neighborhood every day, just playing. But he’s thoughtful and smart, so I’m not worried.

Mincheol. Another one.

The fifth, Hayeon, now goes to girls’ school, and people say she looks the most like you. She may seem blunt on the outside, but she tries to do everything on her own.

Hayeon.

And the youngest, Miyeon, is still little. She’s only six years old. She was born after you left, so you wouldn’t know what she looks like, would you?

Miyeon.

Lee Jun-hyuk paused, eyes leaving the letter.

Six siblings.

So I was their eldest son.

The day you left, Oppa, Father sold five cows to prepare your tuition. Do you remember? That night, Father cried alone in the stable. You didn’t see, did you? In front of you, he pretended to be indifferent, but he turned away and wept in secret.

My chest… ached.

In my previous life, I had no family to protect.

I was alone.

But in this life…

Now, every day, Father boasts to the neighborhood elders. Our eldest son is over in America, achieving great success. He’s even in the newspaper.

A proud son.

And yet, for the past few months, I’d completely forgotten about them.

Oppa, please take care of your health. Be sure to eat well. I heard that New York in America is very cold. Be careful not to catch a cold.

Worries from a younger sister whose face I didn’t even know.

And… Oppa, if you can, could you come to Pyongyang someday? Mother looks at your photo every night and waits for you. Father doesn’t say anything, but for seven years, he’s kept your room just as it was.

Oppa’s room. Waiting for its owner for seven years, left empty.

If you could reply, our address is Pyongyang, Seomun-dong 35. That’s our house. I don’t know if Oppa will remember.

I don’t remember.

Anything.

Then why does my heart hurt so much?

Oh, and Father wanted me to tell you this: business is important, but don’t push yourself too hard. Health comes first.

Mother says you must eat well. She worries that American food won’t suit your taste and that you must be struggling.

The last part of the letter.

Oppa, I really miss you. All of us are waiting desperately for you.

With love, your second sibling, Suyoun.

P.S.: The youngest, Miyeon, is very curious about what Oppa looks like. If you could… could you send even just one photo?

Lee Jun-hyuk folded the letter.

His hands, his whole body, trembled uncontrollably.

Something he had never had, even once, in his previous life.

The greatest gift God had given him in this life.

Family.

“I… really was a fool.”

All I thought about was money.

All I thought about was success.

The one thing most precious, I’d utterly forgotten.

Outside the window, New York’s dazzling lights glittered.

Far away, beyond the Pacific, was there a faint light glowing now in Pyongyang?

In the house where my family lived.

“I have to write a reply.”

No, before that.

“Tomorrow, I need to find Kim Young-soo right away.”

I need to ask about the fastest way to get to Pyongyang.

A letter alone is not enough.

I have to go myself.

After seven years.

No, practically for the first time.

To meet my family.

***

Rrring.

At that moment, the telephone rang.

“Hello?”

“Boss! It’s Yu Ilhan!”

Even though it was late, his voice was full of energy.

“What is it at this hour?”

“I just couldn’t help myself, I was so excited! Tomorrow, the equipment supplier is finally bringing the finalized blueprints!”

“…Ah. That’s good news.”

But Lee Jun-hyuk’s voice was different than usual. It was weak.

“Boss? Is something wrong? You sound…”

As expected, Yu Ilhan was quick to notice.

“It’s nothing. Just… I was thinking about home.”

“Oh, feeling homesick, are you? I get that way myself sometimes.”

Yu Ilhan’s voice softened.

“When you miss home, you should at least write a letter to your family. That’s what I do.”

“…Yes. I should do that.”

“Yes, Boss. Then please rest well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hung up.

Again, Lee Jun-hyuk unfolded Suyoun’s letter.

“With love, your second sibling, Suyoun.”

It was strange.

I didn’t know her face.

I didn’t know her voice.

Why did I miss her so painfully?

Lee Jun-hyuk set the letter down and went to the window.

Fragments of his previous life flashed by.

A child found at Seoul Station’s waiting room at five years old, in the coldest winter. That was the start of his life.

He grew up in an orphanage, became independent at fifteen, and was always alone from then on.

On holidays, he’d make do with a cold convenience store lunch box. On birthdays, he’d buy himself a small cake. When he was sick, he went to the hospital alone, bought medicine by himself.

“So that’s why… I clung only to work?”

With no family, work became my family.

The company was my home, colleagues were my kin.

I believed that right up until the moment I died, but in the end, I realized—

At the end, I was truly alone.

“But in this life…”

He looked at the letter again.

Father, Mother, and five younger siblings. The eldest of the Six Siblings.

Being called “Oppa” was so unfamiliar.

“Sold five cows to prepare my tuition…”

That passage, it felt as if my heart was collapsing.

The value of five cows in the 1910s, in the Korean Empire.

That was the entire fortune of a family. No, more than their fortune—it was their very future.

They sold everything, staking it all on the eldest son’s future.

“…I’m sorry, Father. Mother.”

Seven years without even a single word. A disloyal son.

Lee Jun-hyuk sat at his desk and took out hotel stationery.

He picked up his pen, set it down, and picked it up again, several times.

What could I possibly write?

A letter after seven years.

No, a letter to my family for the very first time in my life.

“To my beloved Suyoun.”

He picked up the pen again.

It still felt awkward, but with care, he wrote each word.

I received your letter well. It felt like a dream, and I was so happy. I am truly relieved to hear that everyone is healthy. I am also living well here in New York, so don’t worry about me.

The newspaper article is a bit exaggerated. I was just lucky, that’s all. Everything is thanks to the tuition Father provided by selling five cows. I have never, not even for a moment, forgotten that great favor.

I’m thinking of visiting Pyongyang. After seven years of unfilial neglect, I want to finally see Father and Mother in person. I’m curious to see how much the younger siblings have grown, especially Miyeon, whom I will meet for the first time.

Please send my regards to everyone. And, let’s meet soon.

From Oppa.

As he folded the letter, he made up his mind.

Tomorrow, I will seek out Kim Young-soo and ask about traveling to Pyongyang.

And I’ll need to prepare gifts for my family in advance.

“I should also bring some money.”

All the hardships my parents endured.

It’s time to repay the price of those five cows.

2 a.m.

Sleep would not come.

Lying in bed, Lee Jun-hyuk imagined the house in Pyongyang he’d never seen.

“Family.”

Something I’d longed for my entire life.

Unfamiliar and awkward, but still, the warmest word in the world.

***

Saturday morning.

Lee Jun-hyuk woke earlier than usual.

He hadn’t slept properly because of last night’s letter, but his mind was clearer than ever.

Because now, he had a goal.

“I need to meet Kim Young-soo.”

As he got ready to head to Brooklyn, he thought,

I’ll ask about how to get to Pyongyang, and perhaps, just perhaps, he’ll know someone with news from there.

After a light breakfast, he left the hotel.

Saturday morning in March.

The streets were quieter than on weekdays.

While heading to Brooklyn by carriage, lines from last night’s letter played over and over in his mind.

He arrived at the Merchant’s shop.

Though it was Saturday, the store was open.

As soon as he stepped inside, the familiar scent of ginseng and cinnamon pricked his nose.

“Welcome—ah, Lee Jun-hyuk!”

Kim Young-soo looked up from his ledger and greeted him warmly.

“Working even on a Saturday, I see?”

“Haha, there’s no weekend for those in trade. But what brings you here so early?”

Lee Jun-hyuk hesitated for a moment.

How should I begin?

“Do you happen to know how to send a letter to Pyongyang?”

“Pyongyang? Oh, your hometown is Pyongyang, isn’t it?”

Kim Young-soo tilted his head thoughtfully.

“But why a letter, all of a sudden…? Good news?”

“Yesterday, I received a letter from my younger sibling, after seven years.”

“Oh my, really! That must have been wonderful!”

Kim Young-soo beamed, sharing in his joy.

“I know well how precious it is to hear from family in a faraway land. But how did a letter from Pyongyang even get here?”

“That, I’m not sure. It was just waiting in my hotel room.”

Lee Jun-hyuk took out the envelope.

Kim Young-soo accepted it and examined it closely.

“Ah, looks like it came via the Chinese merchants’ route. See, there’s a Chinese stamp here.”

It was true.

Looking closely, there was a faint Korean Empire stamp, a Chinese stamp over it, and finally a United States stamp layered on top.

“Seems it came through Shanghai. From Pyongyang to Shanghai, then by ship to San Francisco, then by train all the way to New York. Must’ve taken a very complicated route. I’d say at least two or three months.”

“That long?”

“That’s the fastest it gets. Usually it can take over half a year.”

While pouring tea, Kim Young-soo continued.

“So, how do you plan to send your reply?”

“That’s what I came to ask. Is there a way?”

“Of course. I have a trading partner in Shanghai—if I send it with his cargo, I can make sure it’s delivered to Pyongyang. But it will still take some time.”

“How long?”

“Two or three months, at least. If you’re lucky, maybe a bit less.”

That was still too long.

But there was no other way.

“Then… may I trouble you with this?”

“Of course. But…”

Kim Young-soo asked carefully.

“Have you considered going in person?”

“Is that possible?”

Lee Jun-hyuk asked in surprise.

“Not easy, but possible. First, take the transcontinental train to San Francisco, then a ship to Yokohama in Japan. From there, another ship to Incheon Port in the Korean Empire, and then by train to Pyongyang.”

“How long would that take?”

“At the very least, a month. Normally, a month and a half to two months. That’s just one way.”

Round trip, three to four months. Far too long for someone who’d just started a business in New York.

It was another stumbling block.

Air travel would be out of the question for at least twenty years.

“And it’s March now, so the Pacific weather isn’t stable and there aren’t many ships.”

Seeing Lee Jun-hyuk’s disappointed face, Kim Young-soo tried to comfort him.

“Things get much better in winter. Around November or December, the weather stabilizes and more ships run. You’re busy with business anyway—why not plan thoroughly and go in winter?”

He was right.

Right now, with the founding of La Jolla and the radio station takeover, there was no time.

“For now, why not just send your reply? I’ll include it in tomorrow’s cargo to Shanghai.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kim.”

Lee Jun-hyuk handed over the carefully written reply.

“Oh, one more thing. May I ask something else?”

“Ask anything.”

“Do you know of a place in Pyongyang called ‘Seomun-dong’?”

Kim Young-soo thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“Sorry, I’ve never been to Pyongyang. But if it’s Seomun-dong (790530), I’d guess it’s a neighborhood near the west gate of Pyongyang Fortress.”

“I see.”

“Pyongyang is one of the largest cities in the Korean Empire. It’s the center of Pyeongan province. The Daedong River flows there, and commerce is very well developed.”

As he left Kim Young-soo’s shop, Lee Jun-hyuk felt much lighter.

He could send a reply, and in winter, he’d have a chance to visit in person.

“About eight months left.”

He wanted to build up his business in New York first, and return as a proud and successful son.

On the carriage ride back to Manhattan,

Lee Jun-hyuk kept calculating time.

Something was off.

“Wait, the newspaper article came out in early March… today’s March 15th. That’s only two weeks?”

Kim Young-soo said it takes at least two or three months for a letter to arrive. But if Suyoun read the article and wrote to me, at the fastest, that would be about ten days ago.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

As soon as he returned to the hotel, he pulled out the envelope again.

As Kim Young-soo said, there was a Chinese stamp.

But looking closer, the postmark was clear.

Shanghai, March 8, 1920.

His heart pounded.

One week. From Shanghai to New York, in just one week.

“That doesn’t make sense, either.”

It must have come through a very special route.

Not an ordinary cargo ship—maybe an express mail on a luxury passenger liner, or else…

“Father… found the fastest way possible, no matter what.”

He read the letter again.

Suyoun’s handwriting was neat, but here and there ink was smudged or hurried.

As soon as they saw the article, the whole family must have gathered and spent the night writing the letter.

And in the morning, Father must have rushed out to the express mail office with the letter.

Even for a family willing to sell cows for tuition, this kind of express postage was no small sum.

“How much… how much must they have missed me?”

News of a son after seven years.

News that he had succeeded.

Lee Jun-hyuk sat at his desk and took out the letter he wrote yesterday. It felt incomplete.

In the end, he picked up the pen again.

P.S.: The letter arrived so quickly, I was astonished. It seems Father made special arrangements, but please, there’s no need for that in the future. From now on, let’s exchange letters regularly. And in winter—probably December—I’m determined to visit Pyongyang myself. Until then, stay healthy, all of you. I want to visit in person and share all the stories we’ve missed.

He put the letter back in the envelope.

If he handed it to Kim Young-soo tomorrow, in two or three months it would reach Pyongyang.

“By then, it’ll be summer in Pyongyang.”

He looked out the window.

March in New York was still chilly, but spring was definitely in the air.

Spring would come soon to Pyongyang, too.

Peach blossoms would bloom along the Daedong River.

At that moment, the telephone rang.

“Hello?”

“Boss! Robert here!”

Even though it was Saturday, Robert’s voice was full of energy.

“What’s up, Robert?”

“Ah, just calling to confirm Monday’s schedule.”

Robert recited the whole week’s agenda.

It looked to be a busy week ahead.

“Oh, and Boss, if you don’t have any other plans tonight, would you come to my place for dinner? My wife’s been wanting to meet you.”

An unexpected invitation.

But it was far better than eating alone in the hotel.

“Sounds great. What time should I come?”

“How about six o’clock?”

After the call ended, it was already 3 p.m.

“Maybe I’ll take a walk.”

He went outside.

Saturday afternoon in New York was peaceful.

Families were out walking together on the streets.

Children’s laughter rang from every direction.

“Family.”

Were my family in Pyongyang spending their weekend like this right now?

What were my younger siblings doing?

Especially the youngest, Miyeon. Six years old.

“December.”

There were still nine months to go, but already, my heart was racing. Meeting my family, for the first time.

As he passed through Central Park, Catherine came to mind.

Yesterday’s date felt like a dream.

“Next Friday.”

It felt good to have something to look forward to.

Checking his watch, it was already five o’clock.

It was almost time to head to Robert’s house.

He stopped by a bakery nearby and picked out a pretty cake he thought the children would like.

It wouldn’t do to visit someone’s home empty-handed.

On the carriage to Brooklyn, Lee Jun-hyuk organized his schedule.

From March to November, focus on the New York business.

Visit Pyongyang in December.

And in between, every Friday with Catherine.

“Not bad.”

For the first time, it felt like he could live a balanced life.

Work, love, and family.

Things he could never even imagine in his previous life.

But Lee Jun-hyuk no longer felt lonely.

Now, he had a place to return to.

A home in Pyongyang, real and waiting—even if he’d never been there.

And family waiting for him.