Listen Up, You Little Academy Punks - 3
I decided to hold off on grabbing the plaque and bolting for now. If things went south, not only might the academy scholars' aggro not shift to the plaque thief, but with their leashes snapped, they could dive even deeper into their frenzied debates. If Seokgosan Academy's plaque was a symbol of their pride, then Akrok Academy's was probably their last tether to sanity. Something like, 'We are scholars of the academy; we must uphold our dignity.' Cut that leash, and they'd turn from Dobermans into yapping Chihuahuas, howling away. Just thinking about it was terrifying.
"We meet the Prefectural Governor."
"Come in, Left Vice Inspector General."
That's why I approached the Pojeongsa trembling in fear. This was Jangsa, his turf, after all. Everything that happened here fell under his primary jurisdiction.
"...You've seemed quite troubled lately."
The words slipped out the moment I saw his face. The Pojeongsa looked utterly wretched. Dark circles—the hallmark of overwork—were a given, his skin had a strangely rough texture, and his hair stuck out in unkempt spikes, far from tidy. Anyone could see he was battered both physically and mentally.
"Regrettably, I can't even deny it as empty flattery."
True to my concern, he gave a wry smile and downed his tea in one gulp. Not savoring the aroma sip by sip, but chugging it with gusto. Strangely, though, that gusto evoked pity more than boldness.
"Heh, the young juniors who'll lead the world one day are so passionate. This old-timer can't keep up."
His follow-up only deepened the pathos.
"Left Vice Inspector General."
"Yes, sir."
"How much have you heard?"
"Just that the Akrok Academy scholars' zeal is overflowing into Jangsa."
"I see."
The Pojeongsa nodded gravely, set down his teacup with a sigh, and fell silent for a long stretch. As if resenting his far-junior juniors who hadn't even passed the exams yet. Or lamenting the bomb that had detonated in his jurisdiction. Or perhaps harboring personal feelings about the topics the Akrok scholars were bandying about. He might want to side with one faction but was holding back out of fear of repercussions.
"How to treat the old murim has been a hot-button issue since the Emperor received the Mandate of Heaven. So scorching that even he said to table it for later."
"It's certainly no simple matter to resolve."
"Indeed. And no one dreamed it would drag on for decades like this."
I had no reply to the Pojeongsa's voice, thick with bitterness. He was spot on, after all. No one expected the old murim issue to be settled easily, but neither did anyone think it'd linger this long. Decades might be a blip in history, but in a man's life, it's practically a lifetime. Exaggerating a bit, it's the span from starting as a lowly ninth-grade official to climbing to a central minister. That's roughly decades. Imagine debating a problem the bigwigs tossed around when you were a newbie—now you're the bigwig debating it yourself.
It's a mad situation.
Yet it wasn't something to rush through either, which made it all the more infuriating.
"How to deal with the old murim—the debate rages on. We're just buying time, holding to the premise that the official-murim non-aggression pact doesn't hold, using decades of accumulated customs as our guideposts."
"You're right, sir."
I nodded reflexively; no one could relate more. Dae-song's laws don't clearly stipulate treatment of the murim. We just shatter the official-murim non-aggression, withdraw respect from the parakho, and crush troublemakers mercilessly. Officials are tumbling through this crude setup. With clear guidelines, we'd follow them. But there are none. We rely solely on snap judgment and the tear-stained customs of predecessors.
"In that mess... juniors are debating an issue even central high officials can't touch, one I as Prefectural Governor can't face head-on."
Ah.
A faint anger began creeping into the Pojeongsa's voice.
"Will it change anything if academy scholars debate a problem we've failed to resolve clearly for decades? And not just among themselves, but blabbing so loud the commoners hear? What does that even mean?"
His eyes started twitching.
"Nothing. It means nothing. Akrok Academy's antics are pouring oil on the fire."
"But doesn't it mean the future officials care about the realm's affairs?"
Even as I said it, I felt weird. These Akrok punks had dumped new work on me, yet here I was defending them.
"That's the problem. On what grounds do we silence scholars debating the greater good?"
I couldn't argue, so I nodded again. Fair point. Scholars tend to be rebellious by nature; gagging them mid-debate would only make them explode harder. But letting them prattle on was like ignoring a timed bomb.
"At least the ones who caused a ruckus at the inn submitted quietly and are detained. But there are more still roaming free than locked up."
"I see."
Even the 'inn brawl' that should justify controls had its ringleaders neatly detained. No room for further action.
"Heaven is truly indifferent. Gives us a problem we can't control, can't ignore, can't solve."
I quietly took my teacup as he lamented. I'd grasped the official stance; time to head to Akrok Academy. Figure out what they were thinking debating murim treatment, how fervently... Yeah, I should, but...
I don't wanna go.
Stepping into Akrok Academy felt like walking into a trap. They'd beg for the crown prince's, the Left Vice Inspector General's sage wisdom, and it'd turn into chaos.
Should I bail?
No, I'd already sent word to Kaepyeong. With Seokgosan in uproar, I'd check Akrok too.
Past me, you bastard.
Why poke your nose in for this trial? With trembling heart, I set foot in Akrok Academy. Precisely, I reached the main gate and took a deep breath. Crossing this threshold meant no turning back.
Tempting. That plaque.
Amid it all, eyeing the gate plaque stirred my urges. Should I really snatch it and run? If things soured, they'd rampage more, but if they went well, focus would shift from murim debates to plaque theft. And even if they rampaged, it wouldn't be my problem. The suffering would fall on the Pojeongsa left in Jangsa—
"Gaga, you okay?"
"Huh? Yeah?"
"Your eyes are glazing over."
Ak I-yeon's words snapped me back; I hastily schooled my face. Un, you lunatic. Undermining fellow officials like that? What if the Pojeongsa bled from all seven orifices?
"I-yeon-ah."
"Yes, Gaga."
"While we're at the academy, just scowl and stay silent. I'll handle the talking."
It was an odd request, but she nodded readily. A Dochalwon official from the capital glowering mutely? Even rampaging scholars would flinch. She got it, so she agreed.
"Wi-cheo, you act normal. If you scowl, the kids'll faint."
"Understood."
A super peak master scowling would go beyond flinch to knockout, so I asked him to restrain himself.
Good.
With that, I steeled myself one last time and cautiously opened the academy gate. First, meet the person in charge. Then check when this nonsense started, who's leading it, how long the debates have gone—
"What is humanity! 人 because we lean on each other! 間 to maintain relations! Humanity means not standing alone but living in harmony! Our very name decrees that fate!"
"Well said! To live alone is no human—mere beast!"
"Benevolence and righteousness are needed to coexist! Lose them, and we're no different from beasts! I ask you, comrades: Do we need to spend time and effort enlightening the pitiful, ignorant masses—on beasts?"
"No! Absolutely not! A scholar's duty is to educate the people, not tame beasts!"
"Refreshing! Yes, humans and beasts must be treated differently!"
...?
"Beasts! Who decides they lack benevolence and righteousness? Us, who never knew war? Us, who only heard tales of the horrors? How arrogant! How dare those ignorant of war's terror and pain scorn the silent?"
"No one! No one has that right!"
"Cowardly for not fighting? Then are all the people cowards? Is fearing war and looking away so damnable?"
My brain froze at the scene beyond the open door.
"They're no ordinary folk! They exploited the masses in the name of protecting the realm! Turning away when needed makes them beasts!"
"They have karma, true—but they've paid in full! Lost wealth, homes, trust, honor! Most silent warriors of that era are dead! Generations have turned; why burden the innocent with old sins?"
"Innocent? All they enjoy is their forebears' legacy! Reap the virtues, bear the sins!"
Two scholars jabbing fingers at each other in the courtyard center, surrounded by others cheering, supporting, jeering.
"Even the Son of Heaven without benevolence and righteousness is a tyrant, ripe for overthrow! If an emperor meets that end, why spare sword-wielding peasants?"
"That throne demands fulfilling heaven's will—a grave duty with immense power! Tyrants there deserve death! But is it right to demand the same of commoners? Burden a grain of sand with a mountain's weight?"
I quietly closed the door as the debate grew fiercer. Miraculously, the racket cut off.
Ah, so they'd warded the academy with a spell formation to block noise.
...Should I go home?
I seriously contemplated it. No courage to wedge into that mess.