37 — It Is No Big Deal. (2)

“Wait…”

Baek Cheon stared at So Jung-Gyeong as if he couldn’t comprehend.

“What do you mean we could lose our lives?”

“Did I not say? This place gathers retired scholars, and those you’ll meet next are the apex even among them.”

“…”

“They may have stepped down from the frontlines, but they still possess such power they could erase people like you with a single gesture. How could facing them be without danger?”

“I see…”

Embarrassment crossed Baek Cheon’s face.

He wasn’t afraid of enemies—no matter who stood before him, Baek Cheon would never back down. But this was different.

Power, huh.

Baek Cheon didn’t know how to oppose power. Could their choices even bring great harm to Mount Hua?

At that moment, Tang Soso asked cautiously, “But when it comes to reputation, you are second to no one, sir. You invited us as guests—surely that protects us, doesn’t it?”

So Jung-Gyeong’s expression grew grave as he shook his head.

“That’s precisely the problem: it’s not necessarily so.”

“Pardon?”

“On the contrary—it may be even more dangerous because you are my guests.”

“No—why…?”

So Jung-Gyeong cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed, then continued in a bitter tone.

“As I said earlier, all the scholarly and lineage traditions of the world converge here. Even within the same Confucian school, what they learn and pursue can differ greatly.”

So Jung-Gyeong scanned the Mount Hua disciples’ faces.

“Do you understand what that means?”

The one who answered was Jo Gul.

“…Does it mean we’re less than friends but slightly better than enemies—such a relationship?”

“Exactly.”

“As I thought…”

“W-wait a moment.”

Yoon Jong stared at Jo Gul, startled.

“No, Gul. Even if your teachings differ, we’re both Confucian scholars—why do you hate each other so much?”

Jo Gul, displeased, scratched the back of his head.

“Well, no need for a long explanation—just think of the Wudang bastards…”

“Ah, I completely understand now.”

Yoon Jong nodded like a machine.

Just because they shared the Dao, did Wudang and Mount Hua get along? Not at all. If Wudang were nearby, they’d be worse than the Southern Edge.

“So I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can be of help.”

Baek Cheon shook his head quickly.

“I’m grateful just for the chance you’ve given us.”

“Thank you for saying that, at least.”

Just as a warm atmosphere began to form, a nonchalant voice drifted through the group.

“So.”

“Huh?”

Everyone’s gaze turned to Chung Myung.

“You went on at length, but in the end, there are those crotchety old men up ahead who enjoyed worldly power and wealth in their day and now, having nothing else to do, amuse themselves here. We’re supposed to persuade them?”

“…In a manner of speaking, yes.”

Those words sobered the Mount Hua disciples. From Chung Myung’s remark, they immediately understood how difficult the task would be.

If they offended them, who knew what might happen. Even facing them carried danger. Among Confucian scholars, weren’t there those who deeply loathed Taoists?

“…I need to think this over a bit.”

Even the usually spirited Mount Hua disciples grew downcast. Yu Han-bin flinched, about to speak.

“If you’re worried, you can turn back here. That might be wiser…”

“Well, it’s nothing special.”

Chung Myung said casually, as if it were no big deal.

So Jung-Gyeong blinked in surprise and looked at Chung Myung.

“Nothing special?”

Chung Myung placed his clasped hands behind his head and said, “I’m used to that sort of thing.”

“…”

So Jung-Gyeong regarded him with a puzzled look.

Hype?

No—this wasn’t bravado. The way Chung Myung spoke was unnaturally natural, as if he’d truly experienced such encounters countless times. But So Jung-Gyeong knew that couldn’t be true; someone that young was unlikely to have so many dealings with such powerful figures.

“You truly are… a rather unique person.”

“Only an old man, huh?”

“Heh heh. That’s not wrong.”

So Jung-Gyeong nodded, stopped, and pointed ahead.

“This is the place.”

“…”

At his words, everyone looked toward the thatched hut he indicated.

“Those you must meet are in that house. I’ll watch to see whether you can persuade them.”

The Mount Hua disciples nodded gravely. Only Chung Myung still looked carefree.

So Jung-Gyeong strode to the thatched hut. Beyond the low fence—more a boundary than a barrier—white-haired old men were visible.

“Are you there?”

“Hmm?”

Two elders, who’d been playing go on a worn wooden platform in the hut’s courtyard, turned and looked at So Jung-Gyeong.

“Teacher Dang-Baek?”

A small surprise flashed in their eyes.

They rose slowly and bowed to So Jung-Gyeong. Their courtesy was neat and restrained—respectful but not overly deferential.

In that moment, all the Mount Hua disciples felt an inexplicable weight.

“Long time no see, Grand Scholar.”

“Indeed, long time.”

One elder burst into a hearty laugh.

“We only heard you’d retired to your pool; in all that time it was difficult to see you even once—what brings you now?”

There was a pointedness to the remark. Though not overtly sharp, it hinted their relationship with So Jung-Gyeong was not close.

“I apologize for the imposition.”

So Jung-Gyeong seemed unwilling to linger on pleasantries; after a brief greeting he continued.

“I came because there are people I’d like to introduce.”

“Introduce? Do you mean the people standing behind you?”

“Yes.”

A large, white-haired elder who had been standing behind So Jung-Gyeong stared oddly at the Mount Hua group, then suddenly laughed heartily.

“Hahaha. Teacher Dang-Baek. Hahahaha!”

His laugh was so loud and boisterous it made the listeners flinch.

“People change with age, but that change should still follow reason. Now you even allow the most wicked fangshi into your retirement pool?”

“Fangshi?”

Baek Cheon’s face twisted.

‘Fangshi’—a derogatory term for Taoists. No matter how powerful these Confucian scholars were, it was not a term to be used before those concerned.

Before Baek Cheon could flare with anger, So Jung-Gyeong snapped at the elder scholar.

“You seem to be right. They say age makes one forget propriety—have you now even forgotten the basic rule that manners come before learning?”

The elder scholar let out a curious chuckle as if amused.

“Heh heh, Teacher Dang-Baek’s tongue is still sharp.”

“I did not come to bicker. This concerns matters you might be linked to as well—hear us out first.”

“Linked… you mean between them and us?”

“Yes.”

The elder scholar’s gaze darkened as he studied the Mount Hua disciples.

After a moment’s thought he nodded as if deciding.

“Very well. In all my life I never thought the day would come to converse with Daoists, but if Teacher Dang-Baek requests it, I will listen.”

When he said that, So Jung-Gyeong glanced at Baek Cheon with slight sternness, and Baek Cheon suppressed his rising anger.

Hah. Right—this place was not meant for me.

So it was best to set aside personal feelings.

“I am Baek Cheon, a disciple of Mount Hua in Shaanxi.”

Baek Cheon cupped his hands in salute. Greeting them with the courtesy of the martial world hinted at the resentment he could not entirely hide.

“The reason we have come is none other than…”

Baek Cheon opened his mouth with a firm expression.

“We have come to ask whether you could open the way for this child to enter government service.”

The elder scholars listened without comment, then turned their gazes to Yu Han-bin.

“The Yu family of Shandong.”

A strange expression crossed their faces.

“So the direct heir of the Yu family is still alive.”

“I thought their lineage had died out.”

“Indeed. The line of such a family would not be broken so easily. Such is the way of the world.”

Their voices carried a faint emotion. When they first entered office, the Yu family’s position in Shandong had been like an impregnable fortress. That such a family had been reduced to a single descendant underscored life’s transience.

“Indeed, your words do not run counter to reason.”

The elder scholar turned from Yu Han-bin and addressed Baek Cheon.

“No order has been issued to block the official path of one bearing the Yu surname. That child has every right to sit the provincial examination.”

“Yes! That’s correct.”

Baek Cheon brightened and nodded.

He had worried after So Jung-Gyeong’s warning and the elders’ sharp reactions, but the conversation seemed to be going well.

“Then, will you help us?”

That was only Baek Cheon’s thought.

“Help, you say.”

A tall elder smiled faintly and looked at Baek Cheon.

“What reason do we have to help you with that?”

“…Pardon?”

Confusion spread across Baek Cheon’s face.

“What do you mean?”

Hadn’t they just said it was wrong to block Yu Han-bin from the exam?

“I mean it literally. I’m asking why we should help that child.”

“Well…because it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”

“Right, right—who decides what is right?”

“…What?”

Baek Cheon’s face contorted. It felt like they were openly provoking him.

“As you say, the child is innocent. But have you not considered that this unjust treatment might be the result of someone’s long and deliberate decision?”

Baek Cheon frowned.

“What nonsensical sophistry is that? Whatever the circumstances, an unjust act is simply unjust!”

“Sophistry…”

The elder scholar shook his head.

“People naturally fill unknown parts with what suits them. Haven’t you already decided the conclusion and are merely fitting your thoughts to it?”

“What are you saying?”

“You’re saying this matter stems from the caprice of some wicked power-holder.”

“…”

“And so you think it’s right to undo that caprice and make it as if it never happened. Isn’t that so?”

Baek Cheon’s face flushed. The elder’s words exposed his unexamined assumptions.

“In truth, it should be put like this: I do not know whether it is right, but I simply pity the child and want to help.”

“…”

The elder smiled faintly.

“Do not make that face. I’m not reproaching you. On the contrary, I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?”

“Isn’t that feeling truly admirable? I never thought those who follow the Tao would undergo such trouble for benevolence.”

Unsure whether it was praise or insult, Baek Cheon bit his lip.

“But, as I said, if what you intend is decided by personal opinion and private feeling alone, then we have no reason to help you.”

“That is…”

“Return home, then.”

The elder dismissed them in a voice flat as stone.

“If you intend to oppose some seditious act, you should report it to the authorities; if not, it is something you must handle yourselves. Why do you think resolving this through us is appropriate?”

Baek Cheon clenched his teeth, swallowing the swelling anger.

Logic aside, it was their attitude that stung. There was no opening; from the start, this man had no intention of listening.

But Baek Cheon did not back down. Though wounded pride twisted inside him, now was not the time for that.

“Is there really no way?”

“Why seek such a method here? I will say no more. Just go back.”

The tone was so cold it felt dry.

However, just as the elder turned decisively and looked back to the go board before him—

“What a load of bullshit, really.”