Hyang Dan Jeon / The Story of Hyang Dan

HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

This is where I really wish I had a better understanding of classical Korean folk tales and literature, because my knowledge is in bits and pieces, so take it all with a huge rock of salt:

The story of Chun Hyang is one of the most popular classical stories in Korea, and has spawned numerous adaptations over the years — the most recent of which was 2005′s modern reimagining of Chun Hyang as a resilient, independent, contemporary woman who refused to be pushed around by controlling men, in the thoroughly enjoyable KBS drama Delightful Girl Chun Hyang.

The love story between Chun Hyang and Lee Mong Ryong is one of those well-known stories that exists in many interpretations — they are all real historical figures, but the telling of the story over the years has elevated it from historical record to pseudo-mythical standards. Sometimes the love story is likened to Romeo and Juliet, and sometimes the side characters are emphasized more.

Chun Hyang’s mother, Weol Mae, is herself a famous historical figure, being one of the better-known gisaengs, the Korean equivalent of the geisha, of whom Hwang Jini is the most famous. I’ve read about some versions where Weol Mae is more of a malicious character, and some where she’s just misguided. And then there are the faithful servants — Hyang Dan as Chun Hyang’s devoted maid, and Bang Ja as Mong Ryong’s loyal attendant.

This version takes the characters off into a different direction with the simple hypothetical question: What if Lee Mong Ryong fell in love with Hyang Dan the servant girl, rather than Chun Hyang?





SHOW/PRODUCTION BACKGROUND

The plot is not only light-hearted and cute, but weaves together various different folk tales and legends — it’s rife with cultural references and lots of satirical bits. I only wish I could get them all — I know I must be missing some. It’s definitely a drama that is made much more funny when the references come through. But the ones that I recognize are enough to convince me that HYANG DAN JEON is layered, clever, and hi-la-ri-ous. It also mixes modern and antiquated speech to create an anachronistic, fusion feel — it’s not completely parody, and it’s not completely conventional sageuk.

I was also surprised at how much I liked the directing style, because I didn’t think much of PD Kim Sang Ho‘s prior directing in Fantasy Couple (aka Couple or Trouble). (At one point, he even inserts the jokey theme music from Fantasy Couple.) I liked that drama well enough (the Hong sisters screenwriting team is as close to a sure thing as you can get, for lovers of fun romantic comedies), but the directing often felt slapdash and weird. I’d actually wished he directed more in the style of Delightful Girl Chun Hyang, which the Hong sisters also wrote.

Ironically, the directing in Hyang Dan Jeon actually feels a lot like PD Jeon Ki Sang’s in Delightful Girl Chun Hyang, particularly because that drama also incorporated brief Chosun-era parodies in each episode. I wondered initially if that comparison would be a detriment to Hyang Dan Jeon — because there really are similarities between the two — but in the end, I think it enhances the fun.

Also interesting is that around the time that Fantasy Couple ended, I read that the Hong sisters were interested in a retelling of Hyang Dan’s story… But it was their director who has taken on Hyang Dan, and the Hong sisters are slated to pen the upcoming drama Hong Gil Dong, another famous Chosun-era story that’ll be a fusion sageuk as well, starring Kang Ji Hwan (yay!), Jang Geun Seok, and Sung Yuri.



EPISODE 1 (of 2) SUMMARY

In this version, Hyang Dan is a clever, plucky, vivacious girl with a great personality in spite of living a hard life. She diligently serves her mistress, Chun Hyang, who’s really kind of a pill. Chun Hyang’s mother is controlling and ridiculous, while Chun Hyang herself is materialistic, frivolous, and pretty much an airhead. She’s also exceedingly vain.

Hyang Dan, played by Seo Ji Hye, first meets Lee Mong Ryong, the magistrate’s son, when he sneaks onto Chun Hyang’s estate (she’s trying on her mistress’s fancy hanbok). Partly acting out of idealism and partly out of youthful rebellion, Mong Ryong is a member of a secret group of Robin Hood-like rogues who raid the idle rich and distribute the spoils to the poor.

Mong Ryong immediately hushes her as the men outside sound an intruder alert. They ask Hyang Dan if she’s seen anyone, and she covers up for Mong Ryong, directing the men in the opposite direction. He’s not quite sure why she helped him, but she tells him with admiration that she’s heard of how he gives to the poor, impressed with his noble aims.

There are definite sparks there, but no time to do anything about it, as Mong Ryong has to make his getaway. Hyang Dan assists him, giving him peasants’ clothing and showing him a safe escape route.

With a dashing backward glance, Mong Ryong disappears over the wall, and runs home in excitement over his meeting with Hyang Dan. (Brief Bruce Lee reference? Check.)

Mong Ryong is played by new actor Choi Shi Won, a singer belonging to some pop idol boy band called… Su… per… Ju… something? He’s pretty charmingly cute here, so I won’t hold that against him.

Along the way, he runs into the vapid Chun Hyang and her manipulative mother Weol Mae, and to prove that they are gold-digging idiots, Chun Hyang immediately turns up her nose at Mong Ryong’s dirtied peasant disguise. Hmph. Her good looks are soooo wasted on the poor.

(Of course, as soon as she gets home, she’s all a-flutter, primping in hopes of meeting Lee Mong Ryong The Magistrate’s Handsome Son, not knowing she’s already met him.)


Mong Ryong goes home and sighs over the lovely Hyang Dan and her doe-like eyes, neglecting his studies (he sneaks recreational texts — martial arts manuals — underneath his scholarly texts, hehe). He asks his manservant Bang Ja about the young lady living on that particular estate. Bang Ja assumes he must be speaking of Chun Hyang (“But her eyes aren’t doe-like”) and rushes to tell Chun Hyang and Weol Mae the great news that the Young Master has fallen for the young mistress. They’re ecstatic — the magistrate’s son! — and Hyang Dan is happy that her mistress has a good marriage prospect on the horizon.

That night, swept up in youthful ardor, Mong Ryong sneaks onto Chun Hyang’s property hoping to see Hyang Dan. He’s taken for an intruder until Hyang Dan and Bang Ja recognize him —




— and both realize the true identities of the other. Hyang Dan is actually the servant girl, and Mong Ryong is the wealthy young master who’s supposedly infatuated with Chun Hyang.

I’m glad that the discovery doesn’t do anything to change anyone’s feelings; rather, it helps crystallize them more decisively. Hyang Dan realizes she likes Mong Ryong but knows he’s beyond her aspirations; Mong Ryong, on the other hand, doesn’t care one bit, and attempts to court her. At one point, he looks on at the filial Hyang Dan, tending to her poor, blind father — which effectively makes Hyang Dan the folk tale heroine Shim Chung, ha!

(The story of Shim Chung is an old tale about a very devoted daughter who sold herself to regain her father’s sight. Sailors were in need of a beautiful young woman to sacrifice to the angry sea god, much like young Mayan virgins were supposedly sacrificed to appease volcano gods or whatever. But rather than coerce a girl to her death — because that would just be crude! — they bribed her to do so willingly with lots of rice as payment. But Shim Chung was saved by the sea god, and maybe she married him, and maybe they all lived happily ever after or something. I’m a little hazy on the ending.)




But anyway, the point is, Mong Ryong sees Hyang Dan looking after her father and sighs with love in his eyes. Hilariously, a singing trio actually enter the scene to narrate the events in full musical detail like some kind of Greek chorus. That would be awesome enough as it is, but the group is the triplet trio I.S. (which stands for Infinite of Sound — yes, the erroneous English kills me), a group that makes a fusion kind of pop music blending traditional Korean instruments with modern(ish) sensibilities. They were featured in an episode of Goong S with the song “Spring.” (Song samples below.)




Mong Ryong approaches Hyang Dan, and because she maintains a proper sense of decorum, he resorts to trickery to induce a date. (Since she was so supportive of his Robin Hood-ing activities, he asks her to keep his secret and requests her help — they’re planning a raid for more items to distribute to the poor, and he needs her aid.)

He runs through an entire fake scenario, even invoking a Damo parody along the way —




— saying he needs rice balls (to hide gunpowder) and half-full casks of liquor (to act as molotov cocktails). Hyang Dan agrees to prepare them, and the next day, he whisks her away to “meet” the “others.”

To her surprise, Mong Ryong takes a leisurely seat in the bamboo forest and eats the rice balls and drinks the liquor. He drops the act and tells her today was all in fun. He tells her to close her eyes and listen to the wind; it’ll make her feel better. As Hyang Dan does, the singing trio’s song plays (although they themselves don’t make an appearance):



He wants to finish their impromptu picnic (she probably does, too), but her sense of propriety makes her leave right away. He calls after her to meet him again in two days, saying he’ll wait for her.

Although her departure is abrupt, Hyang Dan has enjoyed spending time with Mong Ryong, having fallen for him as well.




HOWEVER.

Weol Mae has her eyes set on Mong Ryong as a son-in-law, and orders Hyang Dan to help marry Chun Hyang off to him. She reminds Hyang Dan that she raised her from birth after her mother died, and basically emotionally blackmails her into a life of servitude as Chun Hyang’s attendant. Now the relationship takes on shades of Kongji/Patji, the Korean Cinderella story, right down to the mean ol’ stepmother.




Thus reminded of her place, Hyang Dan sadly complies, denying herself any hope of romance with Mong Ryong. And so, she shows up at their meeting spot with Chun Hyang in tow, and avoids all of Mong Ryong’s attempts to stay by her side. It’s cute and hilarious.






Even Jang Hwa and Hong Ryun make an appearance — their macabre folktale deals with an evil stepmother who mistreated them, leading to the death of the younger sister. The elder sister also died and they both went on to haunt the stepmother and the evil magistrate, bringing them to their own deaths. (Or something.) It’s the story that the horror film A Tale of Two Sisters is based on (which is really very good, even if you hate horror, like I do).

Anyway, the sisters look on at the lovesick Mong Ryong (“How can you tell he’s lovesick?” “Any minute, he’ll look up and sigh the name of his beloved”), and sure enough, seconds later, Mong Ryong sighs, “Oh, Hyang Dan…”

In a funny bit, the ghostly sisters appear before the magistrate in the middle of the night to appeal to him to address their wrongful death, but they only get halfway through their introductions before he collapses in fear. The sister ghosts complain that they hadn’t even gotten to their point yet.




Weol Mae concocts a complicated plan to ensnare Mong Ryong for Chun Hyang, and Hyang Dan is forced to obey. Mong Ryong hears that Hyang Dan wants to see him, and runs off to the village to meet her. Both don masks as part of the festivities. Hyang Dan draws Mong Ryong into a traditional circular dance, and then switches places with Chun Hyang, who’s wearing the same mask and clothing.




Heartbroken over her own actions, Hyang Dan retreats as Chun Hyang leads Mong Ryong away. He eagerly follows her into an empty barn, which is promptly locked from the outside by Weol Mae. He realizes the girl isn’t Hyang Dan, and yells for someone to get them out. Chun Hyang clings to him, causing him to reflexively shove her away, which knocks a lantern to the hay and sets the place ablaze.




The village is alerted to the flames, and everyone watches as Mong Ryong bursts out, carrying Chun Hyang. The magistrate arrives, demanding to know why Mong Ryong is there, and Weol Mae takes advantage of the situation to suggest that Mong Ryong and Chun Hyang have been romantically entangled. She wails over her daughter’s foolishness in being thus compromised.




Mong Ryong’s father angrily punishes him by locking him up at home and telling him he’s to be sent away to focus on his studies. Meanwhile, Weol Mae counts her chickens before she’s even got the eggs, rejoicing in Chun Hyang’s upcoming marriage. The Greek-chorus trio arrive to disabuse her of that notion, pointing out that the young master is being sent away. They sing their song “고무줄놀이” (Playing with rubber bands) (the lyrics have been altered from this version to fit the scene in the drama).

Weol Mae rushes to the magistrate and puts on the full teary act to appeal to his sense of sympathy and guilt for Chun Hyang’s future. She comes back with a jade ring, which they interpret as proof of an engagement. With a sickened heart, Hyang Dan sits by and offers weak congratulations.



Weol Mae tells Hyang Dan to hurry and marry too — with Bang Ja, who’s been in love with her for years. Hyang Dan has no intention of marrying him — wasn’t she told her life’s duty was to serve Chun Hyang? — but Weol Mae tells her she won’t be needed once Chun Hyang marries Mong Ryong.

Mong Ryong manages to sneak out of his house long enough to confront Hyang Dan about her role in the plan that led him to Chun Hyang.

He demands to know why she keeps pushing him toward Chun Hyang, and she bursts out:

Hyang Dan: “Because that’s my duty! Because it is my duty to care after Lady Chun Hyang.”
Mong Ryong: “Then… what about your heart?”
Hyang Dan: “Why is my heart important?”
Mong Ryong: “It’s important to me!”




Hyang Dan grieves over her lost claim on Mong Ryong, and is reminded from all quarters that Bang Ja is much more suitable for her. She tries to convince herself, “That’s right. Marriage is for people on the same level. That’s how it is.”

As Mong Ryong prepares to leave the village of Namwon, he looks around and wonders where Bang Ja is. He’s told that Bang Ja is in town for his wedding — to servant girl Hyang Dan — and in alarm, Mong Ryong immediately rides off in a hurry toward town…

…where Hyang Dan awaits her fate.


Part of why HYANG DAN JEON works for me is because, although there’s an element of the ridiculous built in (it walks the line between farce and reality), at the center is Hyang Dan, and Seo Ji Hye plays her completely straight. The characters around her may be playing up the joke to some extent (the actress playing mean ol’ Weol Mae, for instance, is a hoot if you just look at her as a comic perfomer) — but Seo Ji Hye’s reading of Hyang Dan is entirely realistic, without a hint of meta awareness. And that’s a good thing — it saves the drama from sinking into overt jokiness. Choi Shi Won is good too, and they’ve got great chemistry together, but Seo Ji Hye is really the one who holds this story up.

While the first episode was more light-hearted and high-spirited, the second episode gets a little more serious (but not too heavy — there are still plenty of jokes and laugh-out-loud moments) as we get more into the trials and tribulations that befall Hyang Dan.



EPISODE 2 SUMMARY

Hearing of Hyang Dan and Bang Ja’s upcoming wedding, Mong Ryong rushes to the village and angrily asks what she’s doing.


Mong Ryong tries to lead her away, but Hyang Dan resists; this is the path she should take, she’ll marry Bang Ja. Undeterred, Mong Ryong grabs her hand and takes her away. Weol Mae sees them riding off on horseback, and tells Bang Ja his bride has run off. Bang Ja rushes off with a group of villagers in pursuit of the errant couple.



In the forest, Hyang Dan tries to send Mong Ryong away without her — she doesn’t want a part in this. But he refuses, and they continue onward, on foot, when they hear the voices of the villagers following close behind. Hyang Dan knows how futile this escape is, and drops sashes and bits of clothing behind to aid their pursuers in finding them.

Finally, she falls, and refuses to continue. Mong Ryong asks heatedly if she wants to be caught (Hyang Dan: “We’ll be caught in the end anyway!”). Is she really willing to marry someone she doesn’t love?

Hyang Dan: “Love? Does love feed you? I’m different from you. If I’m chased out of my Lady’s home, I have to worry about how to survive the very next day. My blind father only has me, while he waits for the day he can open his eyes.”

Hyang Dan tries to run back to their pursuers, and Mong Ryong detains her, asking incredulously, “Are you in your right mind?” She retorts, “The one who’s out of his mind is you!”




With that, Hyang Dan shakes off his grasp — but the force causes him to fall backward and slide down a steep hill. Alarmed at causing him injury, she helps him limp along with his hurt leg.

Back at the village, Bang Ja returns empty-handed and dejected, while Weol Mae stews in frustration and keeps the details from Chun Hyang (because she still wants to marry her off to Mong Ryong.)

Hyang Dan and Mong Ryong come upon an empty cottage in the woods, where they take up temporary refuge that night as she tends to his wounds. He lightly jokes that it’s nice where they are; what if they just set up house like this? She answers, also lightly, that she could be persuaded if he promised to provide her with comfort and luxury. He asks seriously, “Then, would you marry me?”

Startled, Hyang Dan stutters her answer:

Hyang Dan: “What? Perhaps in the next life… if I’m not a servant then, or if you’re not a gentleman… maybe then…”
Mong Ryong: “It’s heaven’s will.”
Hyang Dan: “What?”
Mong Ryong: “I said it’s heaven’s will that I met you like this. And so, we can’t be separated.”
Hyang Dan: “How do you know that? Can you make the sun rise from the west?”
Mong Ryong: “That just means I’ll have to make the impossible possible.”
Hyang Dan: “You mean, for instance… like passing the civil service examination in first place?”




Initially daunted at the seeming impossibility of achieving that task, Mong Ryong then makes a deal with her — if he passes the exam in first place, she’ll marry him. She doesn’t agree to his promise, but she doesn’t resist when he takes her hand in a pinky-swear.


Mong Ryong will still have to leave soon for his studies, but that’s not a concern for tonight. He asks her, “Today, you’ll be my bride, won’t you?” and pulls her closer (with their interlocked pinky fingers). The scene fades out and we’re left to fill in the rest with our imaginations…




The next day, Hyang Dan faces a furious Weol Mae, who’s ready to kick her out of the household after guessing correctly that she was out all night with Mong Ryong. Hyang Dan begs for forgiveness, insisting she won’t have cause to see him anymore. Weol Mae orders her to say nothing to Chun Hyang, who doesn’t know any of the details.




Hyang Dan tells herself with a heavy heart, “If it can’t be, it can’t be. If I don’t see him, if I don’t meet him, I can forget.”

But she can’t stop herself from rushing to see Mong Ryong one last time as his caravan leaves the village.

“Please don’t remember me. Please forget. Erase it all.”





A new magistrate arrives in Namwon, BYUN HAK DO (whose role, if you will recall, was played much more coolly by Uhm Tae Woong in Delightful Girl Choon Hyang). With his awful, irrational temper, he’s feared by everyone — particularly young ladies, since the lecherous ol’ guy is still single. But HILARIOUSLY, nobody can understand his thick accent, so they quiver in fear while asking, “What did he say?” HA!

Wrongfully killed ghost-sisters Jang Hwa and Hong Ryun make a reappearance to wonder if the new magistrate will be able to understand them (when they ask him to bring justice to their killers. In their lore, they ask every magistrate to right their wrong, but they’re unsuccessful for a long time because they scare them to death). But no worries, as younger sis Hong Ryun has been perfecting her southern accent. BWAHAHA.




Mong Ryong, meanwhile, studies diligently, now that he has a goal. Even when the other scholars are asleep at their tablets, Mong Ryong pays close attention — and thankfully, his lessons pay off. The national civil service examination asks a question that was taught on the night everyone else was asleep. Mong Ryong earns the distinction of winning first place, with a medal to prove his achievement.



Mong Ryong travels back to Namwon for two reasons: (1) naturally, to rush back to Hyang Dan’s side; and (2) now that he’s passed the civil service exam, he’s been named an undercover government official, to inspect the administration of local governments. But he finds that certain events have transpired in his absence…

The wicked Byun Hak Do’s reign of terror has him imprisoning and torturing villagers for the most trifling offenses. Furthermore, he’s fallen in love at first sight with the lovely(ish) Chun Hyang, the sight of whom turns him into a babbling fool. Or at least, more of one. He becomes determined to make her his mistress, and orders her to spend a night with him…

…and naturally, Chun Hyang and Weol Mae are not pleased. But they fear what would happen if Chun Hyang refuses — judging from his quick temper in torturing other villagers, there’s no doubt he would do the same to Chun Hyang. Chun Hyang bemoans her cursed beauty like a professional martyr: “Being beautiful… is a crime!”

And so, motherly instincts prompt Weol Mae to save her precious daughter with the sacrifice of one less-precious, less-daughterly figure: Hyang Dan.

She wants Hyang Dan to take Chun Hyang’s place in spending the night with the magistrate, and to hide her face so that he doesn’t realize the switch. Weol Mae guilt-trips her, reminding her that Hyang Dan owes her, and Hyang Dan has no choice but to submit to her miserable fate.

The same night, the band of rogues led by Mong Ryong’s friend (whom I initially thought might a reference to the historical Hong Gil Dong — but he isn’t, because Mong Ryong jokes to him early on, “Who do you think you are, Hong Gil Dong?”) make another raid. Outraged at the vices of their magistrate, they’re targeting Byun Hak Do himself — and thankfully for Hyang Dan, they arrive just as he comes upon her in the darkened room, eagerly anticipating a night with his beloved Chun Hyang.



But relief is short-lived, because the magistrate discovers Hyang Dan’s identity, and is furious that the three ladies had attempted to trick him. He brings them before him, intending to punish them severely…

…at which point Mong Ryong arrives as the inspector, having heard reports of the citizens’ misery.

Mong Ryong demands to know the ladies’ offenses, and Magistrate Byun wildly constructs a story to cover his own ass, saying Hyang Dan sneaked into his quarters at night and tried to seduce him. Weol Mae admits that it was all Hyang Dan’s idea. Chun Hyang had so faithfully awaited the return of her “husband” (Mong Ryong) that they couldn’t give her up to the magistrate — so Hyang Dan offered to take her place.

With no proof of the three women’s “crimes,” Mong Ryong orders them to be freed, against Byun’s protests. Likewise, Mong Ryong has no proof against Byun’s crimes (extorting his citizens) because his bandit friend had chosen that night to rob him — but Mong Ryong is determined to bring the magistrate to justice asap.

Hyang Dan seeks peace in the bamboo forest, remembering Mong Ryong’s advice. Walking along with closed eyes, listening to the wind, she bumps right into Mong Ryong.

He gives her his medal — it’s hers because she’s the reason he studied hard to pass the exam and become a government official.


Another hysterical bit — and there are so many! — occurs when the bandit leader then RETURNS all the stolen loot to Magistrate Byun (so that he can then be caught!). Byun knows what he’s trying to do, and tries to refuse — at one point, the loot flies back and forth in the air, crossing paths, as both sides actually fight over who DOESN’T keep the goods — HAHAHA.




Magistrate Byun is out to get Mong Ryong — because he’s a threat to him politically, and also romantically, seeing that Chun Hyang is set on marrying him. He sees what’s going on between Hyang Dan and Mong Ryong, and figures that the way to get the man is to bring down his woman. So he sends someone to ransack her quarters — where he finds Mong Ryong’s bandit clothing from the very beginning of Episode 1, which he left behind when she gave him a disguise to wear.

Thus Hyang Dan is brought before him for punishment, but she refuses to reveal whose clothes they are. Mong Ryong watches helplessly, and before he can say anything, Hyang Dan lies and says they’re hers (that she’s one of the bandits), and she’s thrown into prison.




Mong Ryong asks why she’s lying, and she answers that she can’t have him brought down because of her. He should understand now that they can’t be together. All Mong Ryong wants is for them to be happy together, but she tells him that’s impossible:

Hyang Dan: “Truthfully, for the briefest moment, I dreamed in vain that I could be happy for the rest of my life with you. But you saw what happened. We were only together a short while that other time, but it’s ended like this. It’s as though it’s a crime for us to be together.”
Mong Ryong: “Love is a crime? Who says it’s a crime for us to love? Whatever it takes, I’ll save you.”
Hyang Dan: “Have you forgotten? You’re a nobleman.”
Mong Ryong: “None of that matters. If I can save you, I don’t need any of that!”




Okay.

I almost decided not to include this next bit, because it was such a hysterically laugh-out-loud, silly moment that caught me completely off-guard, and I didn’t want to spoil the joke for everyone. But then, I also figured most of you might not watch the show anyway… so here goes.

Hyang Dan has a cellmate, Seok Ho Soon, a historical figure whose story I don’t really know, who mentions how she was going to sell herself for a large amount of rice in exchange for throwing herself into the sea. (But at the last moment, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.) In the middle of the night, her brother, Seok Ho Pil, arrives to break her out of jail. During his entrance, I thought I recognized the background music, but couldn’t quite put my finger on it, until…



HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

It’s a Prison Break parody! It’s effing great. I swear, the first time I saw this, I burst out in a laughing fit until I remembered I was watching this at 2 a.m. and had to shush myself. (Prison Break is a big hit in Korea, and who can blame them, with the loveliness of The Wentworth? Too bad for the ladies that he’s gay. (Allegedly!) Hm, what’s that noise? Is it the sound of hundreds of bubbles bursting?)

Anyway, after escaping, Hyang Dan asks where she can meet the fisherman to offer herself as the ocean sacrifice. Ho Soon refuses to tell her, saying she has too much life to live to give it up like that, but Hyang Dan is insistent: “My life is as good as dead anyway.” With the money, she can at least pay to restore her father’s sight before she dies.

And so, Hyang Dan makes a deal.

Mong Ryong turns himself in to the magistrate, identifying himself as the true owner of the robber’s clothes, so Hyang Dan should be let go. Just then, the magistrate hears of Hyang Dan’s prison break (hehe… that’ll never not be funny).



In the meantime, Hyang Dan has gone to offer herself in exchange for the fee, and because she’s a fugitive, she gives a false name — instead of Shim Hyang Dan, she says she’s Shim Chung — and boards the fishing boat. Mong Ryong hears of this and immediately goes to find her, sneaking aboard the ship in disguise.

Prodded by the fishermen, she jumps into the water…


…and while nobody else is watching, Mong Ryong jumps in after her.



Hyang Dan: “If I’m seeing you… am I dreaming?”
Mong Ryong: “We won’t be parted anymore. Promise me that. Promise that you won’t leave me now.”

This time, Hyang Dan can make the promise.



Some time soon thereafter, Hyang Dan’s father (presumably having received the payment for his daughter’s sacrifice) regains his sight at the hands of Heo Jun (a famous court physician).



Even the magistrate is able to win over Chun Hyang after repeated attempts to woo her with poems and pictures. (Even though Byun Hak Do is crude and scary, he does really have a soft spot for her, and she’s moved by his romantic gestures. I don’t know if the comparison is intentional — it probably is — but this last bit definitely recalls the scene in Love, Actually. Haha.)




And finally, Mong Ryong has disappeared, but in his place, we see the birth of yet another legend with the appearance of darkly disguised Il Ji Mae (aside from Hong Gil Dong, he’s another vaguely Robin Hood-y type who, as a young man, seeing the suffering of the commoners at the hands of a corrupt regime, led them to fight back against their oppressors).



He raids some corrupt rich people (“Aish, who’s the bandit this time?”), and then comes home to his happy life with……!





THE END.


Ah, what a fun short series! It was a total surprise, but I’m so glad I stumbled on it. Romance and laughs, what more could you ask for? Part of me wishes the series had been longer, but another part of me recognizes that this was probably the perfect length.

I really like the direction they took this idea — instead of a mere Shim Chung parody, The Story of Hyang Dan has actually created an origin myth (actually two, if you count Il Ji Mae). It’s got elements of folklore and legend, but is rooted in something more realistic than the fairy tale (in which she’s rescued from drowning, and sent back to land in an oversized flower blossom, and everyone lives happily ever after?).

The Story of Hyang Dan isn’t attempting historical accuracy, or to rewrite a familiar tale — it’s just giving a fun alternate version of the well-known story. So I appreciate that we can see how, in this universe, the story of Mong Ryong and Chun Hyang had its foundation, but still allowed for Hyang Dan and Mong Ryong to live their happy lives, in relative obscurity — the dutiful “Shim Chung” sacrificed herself, the official record of Hyang Dan’s life trailed off, and the real Hyang Dan got to live happily with her man, away from the prying eyes of history.