Living as a True Buddhist - 4
I only stopped by to see Jin-i as a side errand. He's hard to visit since he lives not at home but up on Song Mountain, but I happened to have business there anyway. So even without a special reason, it was only right to at least show my face before leaving. That's what family is for, isn't it?
Besides, among us three siblings, Jin-i is the only one actually studying properly. Even if you added up the time my sister Ryeong-i and I spent studying, I doubt it would reach half of his. So I figured I'd take a peek at what scholarly life was like in this era, but...
What the hell is this?
I never imagined I'd feel the saying "learning has no end" this viscerally.
"How the hell do you even sleep?"
"There's enough space to lay my body down, so it's fine. See? Right there's my spot."
Peeking inside the thatched hut—not outside, but in—revealed stacks upon stacks of books and scrolls crammed everywhere. Amid them, barely visible, was a single human-sized gap. Jin-i's house had been devoured by books. It wasn't that there was living space separate from where the books were stored; it was that there was living space separate from where the books were stored. Things had changed, but had they really improved?
"Don't you have too many? Do you really need to study this much?"
"Learning knows no bounds, and the wisdom accumulated by the sages towers high. How could I speak of more or less after just a few years of study? At the very least, I won't be able to say I've studied 'a lot' until I reach the age of jicheonmyeong or iseun."
"Jicheonmyeong..."
The age to understand heaven's mandate: jicheonmyeong. The age when one's ears soften, allowing one to listen to and comprehend all words objectively: iseun. Put into numbers, that's 50 and 60, respectively. This kid was declaring he'd study until just shy of 60. Madness.
I'll die before then.
Unlike his insane thirst for knowledge, Jin-i's martial arts were only at a liberal arts level—barely scraping second-rate. He'd focused on studies instead, so if he got unlucky, he might pass away mid-book without ever advancing. At least first-rate or peak would let him outlive ordinary folk by a wide margin.
I can wait until he's 30, at least.
Books filling the house. Experiences gained from living alongside nature. If he used those two as his signposts, Jin-i would surpass me as an official. He might even be the one leading a new era alongside the Emperor, not me. So I had no intention of stopping his studies outright. Why sell off a stock guaranteed to skyrocket if you just hold it? But 30+ years of holding? That's a different story. No way I'd allow that.
"Jin-i."
"Yes, brother."
"Gathering knowledge is a good thing. It means your eyes for seeing the world are clearer than others'. You're probably sharper-eyed than me right now."
"Brother, the knowledge I've accumulated can't compare to your experiences. How could you say—"
"You're right. Knowledge merely stored in the head can't match knowledge you can put into practice, experiences you've lived through firsthand."
Jin-i had said exactly what I wanted to hear. As his older brother, I poured out my sincere advice.
"Since learning has no end, someday you must satisfy yourself and return to Kaepyeong. The sages' wisdom towers so high that you surely don't think you'll master it all in one lifetime."
"W-Well, that's true, but..."
"Thirty. I'll wait until you're 30. Even if His Majesty, Grandfather, or Father calls for you before then, I can hold them off and say to wait until you're 30."
But once he passed 30, I'd drag him back by the collar myself, even if they said it was fine. Adding that made Jin-i's eyes tremble faintly.
"If I'm not confident in myself, rising to office prematurely would be disrespectful to His Majesty..."
"No scholar I've met was as diligent or wise as you. And how many scholars are truly confident in their knowledge anyway? They just happen to be wiser than the rest, get chosen for it, and devote themselves because of that choice."
After all, ability is relative. Even if you're not absolutely top-tier, doing better than others gets you employed. If everything were judged absolutely and everyone fell short, who'd do the work? Plus, if the absolute standard was set by septuagenarian scholars who'd studied for decades, they'd die a few years after hire anyway.
"So, 30. Don't forget. Remember it."
"...Yes, brother."
Under my repeated emphasis, Jin-i nodded slowly. I hadn't planned on nagging like this when I just came to say hi. I felt a bit sorry for planting impatience in a guy studying in harmony with nature. But how could I hold back when he was showing such a perfectly hexagonal character—not just scholarly knowledge, but learning the lives of the common folk too?
This is all your fault.
Strutting around every day like the ideal official. That was practically begging me to take him along. Ignoring such an earnest plea wasn't brotherly duty—or official duty, for that matter. For the sake of the realm and its people, I had to snatch him up.
"Well, I'll be off then. Showing up out of nowhere and overstaying would just make you uncomfortable."
"Are you heading to Shaolin now?"
"I already went to Shaolin. Time to head back to Kaepyeong."
Jin-i tilted his head in confusion.
"Weren't you coming to see me first? That's what the letter said."
"Letter?"
His words jogged my memory: "Since you're visiting Shaolin anyway, it only makes sense to see him too. Tell me where he's staying, and I'll stop by there first."
Ah.
The contents of the letter I'd forgotten came back to me belatedly. A memory that didn't forget even the smallest details. Truly a hexagonal talent.
Heading back to Giwangjeo, I spotted Kkieak wandering the garden. Seeing it still walking everywhere was starting to make me question its species. Should I start calling it an ostrich instead of a poison bird? Too big for a chicken, and those legs...
- Kkieak.
"Hey, I'm back."
Spotting me, it flapped its wings in greeting. The problem was it seemed to have forgotten how to fly, but at least its heart was in the right place. It welcomed its master right away, after all.
- Kkieak?
But as it waddled over, it cocked its head, then approached faster than before. Using "footsteps" for a bird felt weird, but those long legs made its strides impressive.
"What? What's up?"
Soon, Kkieak shoved its beak right up to me and started sniffing. I flinched for a moment—maybe it was about to peck me? Even without poison, that beak looked sharp; a peck would hurt.
- Kkieak, kkieaak!
After sniffing thoroughly, it flapped its wings and cried out again. Confusing. I hadn't eaten anything alone, so why? Did I pick up some weird smell on Song Mountain?
- Kkiiiieeaak!
"Hey! Where are you going?!"
But questions were fleeting. After sniffing the air, Kkieak took to the skies for the first time in ages and flew west. Its swift escape left no time to stop it; I could only stare blankly at its retreating form.
...It'll come back when it's hungry.
It wouldn't forget where home was, so it'd return when the time came. With that faith...
I wandered the Repentance Caverns, checking on the elders' conditions. Of course, I didn't just barge in and start talking. When they briefly opened their doors to receive wall-groove rice and water, that's when I'd speak and gauge their states.
"This sinner has troubled His Majesty's officials. To inconvenience others even in atonement—truly shameful."
Even so, a quiet lament escaped me now and then. Lament that they'd twisted a simple matter into something convoluted because of themselves.
"Elder Uncle, please don't say that. The bureau understands our situation and instructed us to investigate leisurely."
Comforting these elders was part of the job. Instead of grasping their realms through a quick exchange, the real work was soothing the despair and guilt buried deep in their hearts. I too carried sorrow and pain in my chest, so I could fully empathize, carrying on the conversations calmly and patiently. Our atonement wasn't wrong. It wasn't birthing new sins.
"But Elder Uncle, your energy seems clearer than last time."
"Distancing myself from killing has made it so. When this old body dies, at least I can shed the stench of blood."
I gave a wry smile at his words. Shaolin's arts centered on weaponless body techniques. In the Mongol wars, that meant staining our hands instead of blades, our feet instead of spears. Even killing for the greater good was something a Buddhist couldn't face without shame.
"If I were in your place—"
"Abbot, we elders boasted loudly yet failed to protect the young sprouts. But you triumphed against those savage, mighty barbarians."
"Elder Uncle."
"You're no sinner, Abbot. Even if you were, not one bearing our heavy sins."
The familiar comfort silenced me again. I had plenty of counterarguments. But rebutting him would just lead to him refusing rice and water for days. Better to stay silent for now.
- Kkiiiieeeeeeak!
"Hm?"
As I bowed and turned to leave, a bizarre cry echoed from behind. Bizarre yet familiar—sharp yet warm.
...No way.
A certain someone sprang to mind, but I shook my head. No way it'd show up on Song Mountain after decades unseen. Still, just in case, I turned around. Hoping my "no way" was right.
- Kkieak!
"Hah."
I let out a hollow laugh the moment I turned. Decades apart, but I knew instantly. My head might doubt, but my heart screamed it.
"Hayang?"
"Hayang!?"
My mutter brought Elder Uncle bursting out the door.
"Abbot! What did you just say?!"
"Hayang? That Hayang?"
"The one that gloomy guy raised!?"
Doors flew open all across the caverns in unison.
No, elders. If you can come out that fast, why haven't you until now...