He had thick white hair and a wrinkled face, but he did not look like a man nearing seventy.
The impression of a young man once renowned as a proud and noble gentleman still lingered, giving off an almost immortal aura.
And naturally, the image of Taejeonggong Dankyeong was visible on his face.
It was hard to understand why someone so much like his child would be hated.
“Eighth Prince Dani-jae is said to resemble the previous king, not the current one. Well, starting from those strange eyes…”
“Is there no answer?”
The king, unable to hold back any longer, pressed for a response.
Since this was what he had been hoping for, Sahyeon lowered his eyes slightly and quickly opened his mouth.
“Your Majesty, before I answer your question, may I be permitted to tell you a personal story for a moment?”
The king gestured casually, as if to say, ‘Say whatever you like.’
To Sahyeon, it was all a formality.
Many petitioners often failed to complete their intended words, dragged away when the king lost interest, but thanks to his deceased master’s legacy, he was able to speak everything he wanted.
“I was also at the Battle of Maecheon.”
He looked up at the king without hiding his nervousness.
The king’s frown deepened as he gazed at Sahyeon, then he adjusted his posture, sitting straighter.
“If it’s Maecheon, then the scholar must have been…”
“Twelve years old.”
“Was that your hometown?”
“I was on the battlefield.”
Whenever Sahyeon brought up Maecheon, he always faced similar expressions.
He always wondered—did they really not know that children were dragged to the battlefield, hence their surprise?
Or were they just pretending surprise to hide their own hypocrisy?
“Who in troubled times would not understand the horrors of war? But I was born there. If there is anyone who can end war on this land, I will dedicate myself completely, like a discarded shard.”
“So at first, I sought my master. He is a renowned scholar, known even by the beggars on the street—Chae Gong. I thought perhaps he knew a way to end the war.”
“I have heard of Chae Gong’s ‘way’ as well. All wars and disasters stem from people’s inability to control their greed, so rulers must lead by example—cultivating their hearts, practicing rites, and bestowing virtue upon their people.”
“Then, like baby birds learning to build nests by following their mother, the people would learn virtue from their rulers.”
The king’s wrinkled lips twisted oddly.
He suddenly seemed to understand why Chae Gong never set foot in the northern lands again after meeting the King of Pasa.
While she pursued her ideals, the king must have looked down on her with such an expression.
For Chae Gong, who was used to reverence, it must have been a dreadful time.
But Sahyeon was different from her.
He was not afraid of being ignored or dismissed by anyone.
What he feared was that some officials inside this high palace would be utterly unaware of the tide of the era, swept away suddenly by the flood and perishing without resistance.
“What do Your Majesty think? Do you consider this nonsense like a Zen koan?”
“The petitioner is a scholar, so why do you ask my opinion?”
The king’s voice had a sharp edge.
Sahyeon smiled gently and bowed his head again.
“My master was only ill-timed, but he never spoke wrongly. I dare say, even if Your Majesty does not appoint this scholar, you must not discard Chae Gong’s intentions.”
An uncomfortable cough was heard.
Sahyeon’s bow was not a sign of submission before the king.
Lacking experience, he was afraid that no matter how calmly he pretended, the shrewd king would see through him.
“Your Majesty is the only one in this continent who needs Chae Gong’s learning.”
His mouth grew dry, and his voice cracked.
He strained his neck veins, swallowed dry saliva.
His pounding heart hammered against his chest, making it hard to breathe.
He must not speak before being asked.
The king would surely ask.
That was why Sahyeon had been summoned so close.
Dankyeong was still in front of Geumyang Bridge.
Pretending indifference, but likely gauging how long Sahyeon had met the king inside.
As soon as he spotted Sahyeon, he checked the bamboo slip he was holding.
Since the picky king would quickly want to remove those he disliked, if he kept Sahyeon this long and talked, perhaps it meant Sahyeon would receive at least a high-ranking official’s post.
Maybe Dankyeong harbored such hopeful expectations.
When Sahyeon approached and bowed, Dankyeong smiled gently.
Then he casually brought up the question lingering in his mouth.
“So, how shall I now address the scholar?”
Sahyeon handed over the bamboo slip containing the king’s decree.
The bamboo pieces clacked lightly as they separated.
There was no need to open them all; the first piece bore the clear, distinctive handwriting of the palace official:
—Baek Sahyeon is appointed as a fifth-rank scholar.
Disappointment flickered on Dankyeong’s face.
Fifth rank was a respectable grade for a young scholar just entering office at twenty-five without any notable record.
However, considering Sahyeon came backed by Chae Gong’s reputation, it was below expectations.
Moreover, scholar was a post for studying books in the archives—not exactly an active position.
It seemed like a way of saying, “The pupil of a scholar who doesn’t understand reality should stick to the books and live in the archives.”
“…Is that so? I suppose I shall now call you Scholar Baek.”
Perhaps Dankyeong still bore ill feelings toward Chae Gong.
Muttering reluctantly, he rolled up the bamboo slip and returned it.
But Sahyeon quietly folded his hands before him and lowered his gaze instead of taking it.
Dankyeong raised an eyebrow and inhaled.
The slip unfolded again with a clatter.
After the dry phrase “appointed as fifth-rank scholar” came another clear phrase:
—Also appointed as the keeper of the archives at Un-gyeong Palace and tutor to Eighth Prince Dani-jae.
Dankyeong roughly rolled the slip back up; the clacking bamboo sounded unusually cold in Sahyeon’s ears.
Tilting his head, he rubbed his ear canal lightly with his pinky finger, which might have looked odd to others.
“Scholar Baek, did His Majesty say it was actually Dani-jae who recommended you?”
As expected.
When hearing the command to be “Dani-jae’s tutor,” Dankyeong naturally suspected this.
Sahyeon had anticipated this question.
Though it was better to ask directly, he did not expect someone who had long been embroiled in succession struggles to be so openly emotional.
Whether this was a strength or weakness of hers…
“And what benefit would I gain by saying that? Your Majesty would see me as someone falsely recommended, and it would bring great harm to the future heir, Taejeonggong.”
People tend to trust practical gains more than morality.
Dankyeong slowly nodded at this answer.
If Sahyeon had said, “As a disciple of Chae Gong, I wouldn’t do anything against her principles,”
Dankyeong would have remained suspicious.
Given that Dankyeong wanted Sahyeon as Chae Gong’s disciple, it was truly paradoxical.
“…I was merely trying to read Your Majesty’s mind. So you wish to bring me into Un-gyeong Palace.”
The titles ‘scholar’ and ‘keeper of the archives at Un-gyeong Palace’ had different meanings.
The former was merely symbolic, placing Chae Gong’s disciple under one’s wing, while the latter meant planting “the king’s eye” in Un-gyeong Palace, full of dangerous heirs and predators eyeing the throne.
“You have not misjudged me! Considering how much Your Majesty disliked Chae Gong, your heavy favor shows that Scholar Baek’s talents must be extraordinary.”
Now the question was why exactly Sahyeon was made tutor to Eighth Prince Dani-jae.
Though the king said, “Since the eighth prince grew up without learning royal customs and has little knowledge of rites, you, a disciple of a great scholar, must teach him to be a proper royal,” Sahyeon thought otherwise.
Dani-jae was arrogant and selfish, a typical royal.
So there must be another reason.
Perhaps the king was gauging if Dani-jae was fit to be heir or, unlike his other children, intended not to appoint him as heir and placed Sahyeon in a neutral position.
“Well, it’s about time to get a new teacher for Lee Jae. The guy who hasn’t even finished the basics of Sohak (Elementary Learning) has already changed seven teachers.”
Wait a minute.
What is this about?
Sohak is the absolute basic that even five-year-olds memorize by heart, isn’t it?
The fact that someone who’s already twenty-five years old… no, that he has not finished Sohak… must be an exaggeration, right?
“Sohak… you mean that?”
Sahyeon barely lifted his creaking neck and looked up at Dankyung, as if asking for more explanation about what was just said.
“Oh dear, I may have said something unnecessary. That… Lee Jae. He seems to be smart and naturally talented in martial arts…”
The word ‘but’ means only what follows is true.
Sahyeon clenched his teeth quietly, trying to swallow the shock as much as possible.
“He doesn’t like to put in effort.”
In other words…
“You’re saying he’s lazy?”
So after pretending to act all high and mighty in front of Sahyeon, he himself is living a carefree, lazy life, not even wanting to study Sohak?