Reviewing the Old to Know the New
Once upon a time, Baek Ho-chan was the CEO of a bio-medical startup based in Silicon Valley. Majoring in micro-transmutation studies at USC Viterbi School of Engineering, he made local news as a young entrepreneur leading a business that combined microscopes and AI for cell observation and disease diagnosis. He wasn't lacking in technology or knowledge, nor was he ignorant of company management—he'd even completed an MBA. He was simply born just a tad too early for his era.
The chain of regional bank failures in the US that started last year hit him hard. Unluckily, the first domino was Silicon Valley Bank. He lost not only the promised investment funds but also every penny of the deposits he'd entrusted to them. Unable to pay salaries to his 35 employees, his promising company went bankrupt, leaving him buried under massive debt. But the knowledge he'd poured his life into was like his own children, so he flatly rejected offers to hand over the core technology with the company. The price for clinging to his pride until the bitter end was far too steep. With no money or will to return to the US, Baek Ho-chan ended up living in a cheap one-room in the outskirts of Seoul.
But just as a lifeline descends for everyone, on a sleepless night, he vaguely recalled words from his grandfather—the very man he'd always despised.
His actions were swift. He went straight to Duri Island to see his grandfather, and sure enough, after 40 years, Master Baek Bong-gon had become a man worth 300 billion won.
"If your butts stick out like that, you're done for! Get 'em down now!"
"Ughhh! Hii... It's too hard! My legs hurt—I can't do more!"
"You brats still haven't learned! If you don't get the form right here, that's another hour of horse stance!"
"Hiiing...!"
From the crack of dawn, Arin and Minwoo were diligently doing squats under Master Baek Bong-gon's watchful eye. Baek Ho-chan had been steadily convincing me since yesterday that, though his grandfather was strict, he never resorted to physical violence in his discipline. Yesterday just happened to be the first time he'd wielded a switch.
He pointed to a white trash bag filled with shards of glass across from him.
"The kids were hiding in the closet yesterday and accidentally broke one of Grandpa's most treasured ceramics. Yeah, I know you shouldn't hit them for it... but he's not the type to be swayed by words alone. You've seen his stubbornness these past few days."
Baek Ho-chan let out a deep sigh. By now, the kids had finished their squats and were sprawled on the dirt ground, gulping down ice water.
"It's down to 250 billion now, but that's fine. After taxes, it's still 120 billion."
He felt parched just like the kids. The days of slick presentations to venture capital execs were long gone; now he was just an ordinary farmer.
"No AC, so it's brutal, huh? Want one?"
He handed me a cone ice cream while fetching ice water from his room.
"Where'd you get it? Wasn't in the kitchen fridge."
"Got another fridge in my room. Don't tell Grandpa."
These city kids who'd lived urban lives their whole time couldn't survive on greens forever. Spam, chicken nuggets, ice cream, frozen pizza—he restocked every two weeks from the mainland.
"So why'd you pick Arin to adopt, of all people?"
He'd been observing our Merlin Orphanage for quite a while. To pass this mystery grandfather's 'test,' he'd surely chosen talented kids, right?
"Just 'cause we share the same family name?"
"...? Now I get why your company tanked..."
"Hey...! And Minwoo and Arin aren't officially adopted yet. Once I get the money safe, we'll live together till they're adults, then gift them about 100 billion each."
"You're a real devil."
"Minwoo suggested it first—don't misunderstand. Arin agreed too."
He got indignant alone, claiming there was a rational decision process behind picking a kid with the same surname. Whatever. And the result? This wounded world we all shared. Grandpa found the kids frustrating, Baek Ho-chan was dying of thirst, and Minwoo and Arin just wanted off this island ASAP.
"Heuuk... Nami, water please."
"Here."
"Thanks!"
Gulp gulp—Arin's belly swelled like a tadpole's after starving so long. Hope she doesn't get sick.
"Baek Arin. Were you staying on this island without contact all this time just to make money?"
"Huh? Did Uncle tell you?"
"So why?"
"Living with Nami costs a ton! Gotta buy a house, uniforms, medicine."
"You went through all this hell for that? You can live well without money, Arin."
"No."
Arin, having drained a whole water bottle, shot back.
"No money means misery. No mom and dad means misery. Better to have than not."
"You..."
"At least then I can choose to throw it away, right?"
Suddenly, Arin's irises flushed red. A clear precursor to mana exhaustion. With those words, she collapsed onto the bench. She hadn't shown it, but she'd been pushed to her limit. Baek Ho-chan calmly fetched ice in a bag from the kitchen and placed it on her forehead—like it had happened multiple times before. No more overworking the kids. Abuse isn't just hitting.
"Any words Grandpa really hates?"
"He hates so many, can't count."
"Just one. The absolute worst?"
"Probably 'academy.' One ruined his old seodang school. And the mana power plant base station that kicked Duri Island residents out? They blame academy folks."
"Got it."
"Hey! What're you up to?!"
I glared at the old man leisurely fanning himself on a stroll. Then I hopped off the bench and blocked his path.
"What you doin' now, girl?"
"Let me take that test too."
"Test? What makes you qualified?"
"Me?"
Just then, my eyes caught the massive sign by the front gate.
[堂書名正]
Jeongmyeong Seodang
Fancy name, but does it have the substance?
"If even seodang kids qualify for the test, how could I, an academy grad, not? Right?"
"A... academy?"
"Yep, a real academy—not some pseudo-education like a seodang. So you're not confident, huh?"
The provocation landed perfectly. It didn't take long for the old man's face to turn red then purple.
Genius atop genius.
"Parkhak idokji."
"Study widely and hold aspirations firmly (博學而篤志), question earnestly and reflect on what's near (切問而近思), and benevolence lies therein (仁在其中矣)."
Baek Ho-chan, who'd seen countless geniuses in Silicon Valley, watched her talent unfold from the start.
"On go ji sin...?"
"By warming the old, one knows the new (溫故而知新), and thus can become a teacher (可以爲師矣)."
Master Baek Bong-gon's eyes nearly bulged as he listened intently. The Analects: 600 sentences. Ten per minute.
"Insane... She memorized all that in an hour?!"
Baek Ho-chan couldn't hide his shock. Memories flooded back of the hellish Analects memorization forced on him every vacation at Grandpa's—something he never fully mastered even after years. Even sharp Minwoo stared at Nami like a monster.
First phrase given, and the rest machine-gunned out mechanically. Perfect interpretation too. Master Baek Bong-gon slammed the book shut.
"Next!"
Eight months later, at stage two the kids hadn't even glimpsed. The true nature of the test Grandpa had only hinted at finally revealed.
"Sincerity is the way of heaven. Without striving, it fits perfectly; without thinking, it is understood; without fanfare, it aligns with propriety—this is the sage."
Thud—the mulberry cane hit the ground, kicking up dust.
"Excess and deficiency are equally distant; the mean is not merely holding the middle."
His rage-filled voice vanished. Restraining emotion? No—he was channeling it all into one point. Wrinkled skin like fertile soil sprouted new buds. A faint vibration in his arms, but his torso unmoving. Finally, verdant aura bloomed from his palm.
"External manifestation of aura..!"
"What's that?"
Baek Ho-chan couldn't believe it. Masters of aura could cloak it externally—like slicing open a living heart. A realm even decades of effort couldn't guarantee, yet Master Baek Bong-gon went further. The fiery sprout grew branches, leaves, autumn leaves. One leaf detached, floating independently on his hand. A perfect, severed aura space.
"Do it just like that."
That was Master Baek Bong-gon's command. Baek Ho-chan despaired. He'd never intended to share his wealth from the start. After treating them like strangers—or worse—for decades, why would a few months of flattery change that?
The old man snorted, aura vanishing cleanly. He bent, picked up the cane. Breeze through the pavilion rustled his white beard. With a groan, he straightened.
"Hah...!"
In Nami's crossed-legged hands bloomed apple trees.
"A trick this easy? Mastered it as a kid playing Jenga."
Far more leaves than Grandpa's tree, plus countless golden apples. Nami wiggled her pinky—dozens of golden fruits fell. No—defying gravity, they rose skyward. Gazing at the fading light particles, Nami murmured with a smile.
"The golden apple tree guarded by the Hesperides nymphs. Wonder if Master knows Greek-Roman myth. Or maybe Isaac Newton?"
Master Baek Bong-gon stared blankly at the sky. Nami withdrew her aura fully.
"As you said, 'warming the old to know the new' makes one fit to teach. Your turn to imitate."
She questioned his qualifications as master.