“Look here. Doesn’t it say that due to a long famine, they had nothing to eat and survived by making porridge out of grass roots, and then the father fell gravely ill?”
“In such a desperate situation, hearing that the patient might die from lack of strength, she cut her own flesh. You need to consider the full context—how can you single out just that part and treat her like a madwoman?”
“What’s the use of that one bowl of meat broth? The child couldn’t use their legs and would die from an infected wound anyway, and ah, in that case, the father would’ve been able to eat meat broth to his heart’s content, right?”
“Then what exactly do you think, sir? Surely you’re not suggesting she should’ve kidnapped the neighbor’s child and boiled them instead of cutting her own thigh, are you?”
Dan Ijae looked genuinely impressed and began clapping slowly.
“I hadn’t thought of that. Learned people really are different.”
Sahyeon had to accept his applause while closing his eyes and struggling to suppress his anger.
“Fine, let’s hear the scholar’s esteemed opinion.”
“Isn’t it a famine? In extreme situations, the sick must be left behind so the healthy can survive. If it were me, I’d let my father go naturally and—one more time—receive blood and flesh from him…”
“Are you saying you would eat your father?!”
Dan Ijae shrugged, looking a bit sheepish for once, perhaps out of a flicker of conscience.
“I didn’t eat him. He went on his own.”
Of course, there was no sense of guilt in the way he said it.
“My god, please don’t speak of such things outside. You should have some awareness of who your father is.”
“There’s no famine in the palace, so why are you comparing me to the King? I was simply considering it from the perspective of the people who are starving.”
“But you don’t even understand famine. You don’t know how desperate and hopeless that kind of situation is.”
“And do you?”
“Do you think I don’t?”
At those words, Dan Ijae leaned toward Sahyeon and suddenly pinched his cheek hard.
“Well, judging by your soft face, it seems like you wouldn’t know. But the fact that there’s barely anything to pinch… maybe you do.”
Sahyeon puffed out his cheeks with air and slapped away Dan Ijae’s terribly rude hand.
“Is this how you treat your teacher? Eat your father, pinch your teacher. What kind of degenerate are you?”
“All because of a lack of education, isn’t it? Someone once said that a person who hasn’t even finished elementary studies is no better than a child. So a kid might do such things.”
“You little…!”
Sahyeon clenched his fists but couldn’t possibly strike a royal prince, so he ended up pulling at his own hair in frustration.”
“Meanwhile, the true cause of this mess, Dan Ijae, rested his chin in his hand and leisurely watched Sahyeon flail about.
“Well, your archery seems up to par, so how about learning swordsmanship today?”
Apparently, his mind was already somewhere else before the lesson was even over.
Sahyeon snorted while tidying up the bamboo scrolls.
“I am not only your teacher but also the keeper of the Woon-gyeong Palace archives. I have many responsibilities.”
“What responsibilities does a keeper have? Just leave it to the clerks.”
“I’m not the kind of man with such a rotten mindset, thank you very much.”
“And what is it that such a pure-minded person does? Acting as the Grand Monk’s copyist?”
“Who said anything about copying… wait, how did you know?”
“Copyist?”
“That the Grand Monk gave me the task, I mean.”
“Didn’t you write it out in plain sight in my study?”
So he saw it.
Please don’t tell me he read the actual lines.
I only scribbled a couple of sentences and sighed endlessly afterward…
“How did you know it was the Grand Monk who gave me the task?”
“Is that what you’re curious about?”
It was annoying to admit it since it might inflate his ego, but in order to grasp the situation, Sahyeon nodded bravely.
Dan Ijae narrowed his eyes with a sly smile.
That irritatingly smug face being so close made Sahyeon’s heart beat uneasily.
What is this?
Is it because I’m suppressing the urge to punch him?
Then Dan Ijae picked up something from the floor and dangled it right in front of Sahyeon’s nose.
A blue… book cord.
The kind used to tie bamboo scrolls.
He couldn’t possibly be offering it just to tie the scrolls.
Sahyeon’s gaze moved down from the fingers holding the cord and spotted some small writing at the end.
It was labeled Hyomunrok and clearly marked Woon-gyeong Palace Archives.
“Do you people label even the book cords in Pasa?”
“There are a lot of thieves, you see.”
Unbelievable.
Those who have nothing label their books out of desperation—but the royal archive labeling even the cords?
In any case, that means the book from the Grand Monk likely had his name or the ownership marked too…
“Yes, seeing that label, it did seem urgent. Did you manage to write anything else after that?”
…So he did read it.
Sahyeon bit his lower lip and tied the bamboo scroll tightly with the book cord.
“I was just distracted because the prince insisted on not studying.”
“Oh dear, how grave my sin must be. Should I grind your ink for you today?”
“I appreciate the thought.”
“Why be shy? Watching a teacher write might inspire me to study harder.”
Sahyeon already knew well that Dan Ijae wasn’t that kind of person.
He also knew exactly what Dan Ijae was trying to extract from him so persistently.
He was the kind of man who wouldn’t stop until he got the answer he wanted, so stalling was pointless.
“It’s just… I was struggling to decide whether to write what the Grand Monk wants to hear, or what I want to say.”
Dan Ijae raised his eyebrows slightly, as if surprised Sahyeon gave such a straightforward answer.
Sahyeon shrugged as if there was nothing wrong with that.
“You don’t think you can persuade the Grand Monk by saying what you want to say?”
“Well, I must’ve succeeded in persuading His Majesty with what I wanted to say—that’s why I’m here now, right? But words and writing are different. And the fact that he sent a book before even speaking to me doesn’t exactly make his intentions feel very friendly.”
“The Grand Monk isn’t friendly to anyone. But he isn’t hostile to anyone either, so you needn’t worry about that.”
Sahyeon hadn’t expected Dan Ijae to speak so candidly about the Grand Monk, so he opened and closed his mouth without knowing what to say at first.
But then, he understood.
Ah, right.
The Grand Monk is the daughter-in-law of the Supreme Commander, Lord Sang-gyeong Beom-yeo.
And Dan Ijae grew up in that household, so of course, they’d have some connection.
If I ask what kind of ideology or personality she has…
…Would he just laugh at me?
“I… I see. But still—”
“Write what you want to say.”
His face burned.
It felt like his true feelings had been exposed.
Sahyeon swallowed dryly and looked up at him blankly.
“Isn’t that the only way we’ll have even the slightest chance of moving the Great Monk’s heart?”
Dan Ijae brought his index finger and thumb close together right in front of Sahyeon’s nose, showing exactly a “dust-sized chance.”
Sahyeon scowled and glared at the gap between his fingers, then inserted his own index and middle fingers into the space and forced it wide open.
“Thanks to you, I think we now have this much of a chance. I truly thank you.”
“Hmph.”
He quickly withdrew his hand from Sahyeon’s and, out of habit, looked down at his own palm.
Was he checking if something had gotten on it?
Just what did he take people for?
Dan Ijae rubbed his fingers together as if brushing something off, then leaned toward Sahyeon again.
“Need someone to grind your ink?”
“No. I do just fine on my own.”
“You’d do even better with some help.”
“Young master, do you even know how to grind ink?”
“Isn’t it just a matter of pouring water and stirring it continuously?”
“It must be done with weight but gently. The edge of the ink stick shouldn’t wear down too fast or get lumpy. You must grind it with care so the entire inkstone is evenly soaked, and only then will the ink you brush onto the tip be neither too watery nor too thick.”
“Sounds exhausting. Aren’t you going to edit it and carve it into formal script anyway?”
“And that’s like saying, ‘Since it’ll just become poop anyway, there’s no point in eating good food.’ How is that any different?”
“That was exactly my point.”
Now that he thought about it, Dan Ijae was the kind of person who didn’t eat even when the palace attendants prepared a meal from fresh ingredients brought at dawn — always wandering off instead.
Not exactly the best person to make that comparison.
It must be that smoking those lotus cigarettes dulled his taste buds.
“Baek Munhak, you really seem to like eating, don’t you?”
“And you, young master, truly love your liquor, don’t you? Food is better than alcohol.”
“Isn’t that overindulgence?”
“Do you really think that phrase fits the current situation?”
Busy responding to his nonsense, Sahyeon hadn’t noticed until just then how close their faces had gotten — so close their noses almost touched.
Startled, he sharply inhaled and quickly pulled back.
A delicate scent rose from the man and seeped deep into Sahyeon’s lungs.
That was the only real merit of lotus cigarettes — the faint fragrance that clung to one’s body.
There was a legend that went, “In the Pure Land, lotus flowers bloom in abundance, and a deep scent lingers on all who dwell there.”
Monks on harsh spiritual journeys would clench the lotus cigarette between their teeth, steadying their scattered minds by inhaling its fragrance.
Ordinary people simply carried sachets or applied perfume.
Imitating this was unthinkable for most, until the flower people of brothels (a term used to refer to sex workers in brothels, also possibly derived from the term “commodity person”) began to smoke lotus cigarettes.