Fame (1)

47.

After Mok Hyunsun and the others returned from Yongin, the first people to move were the research institutes and academic societies devoted to the independence army. They quickly joined forces with Professor Lee and threw themselves into the investigation.

A letter from the independence fighters to their descendants.

In independence army research, stumbling across a document this romantic was vanishingly rare. The work advanced rapidly, and a few days later Professor Lee’s interview was featured prominently on the news.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sight of a young man interrupting a resigned drinking session to recite a monumental discovery.

It had been a moment both embarrassing and, as a scholar, deeply gratifying.

[To put it simply, what critic Mok Hyunsun accomplished is called a “humanistic approach.” In this age, when science is so advanced, it’s a field whose influence is steadily waning… but it was an astonishing discovery. I believe this finding could become the spark that brings the dying humanities back to life.]

Another interview that drew attention was that of the famous ceramic artist Lee Hee-so.

[To be honest, from a ceramic-studies standpoint, this relic has no value at all. But what is it? A humanistic approach? If you look at it that way… it’s charming. It has to be charming. Or should I say, it’s the heart of the person who made it? The existence of that heart has been objectively proven, hasn’t it? Then the story changes. This is a work of art. Of course, the method of analysis was art as well.]

This incident, which stirred up all sorts of academic circles, wandered around the internet communities for days.

The communities each had their own brand of patriotism, so regardless of politics, gender, or anything else, they were united for once after a long time.T_TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

I don’t farm, but we’re doing just fine Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

He transcribed the Chinese characters into Hangul, solved the cipher, and somehow figured out the independence fighters’ feelings while he was at it? And all in one night? Experts aren’t called experts for nothing.

I’m crying, damn it.

As the professor from the chapter said, it was a miracle made by a humanistic approach. If they hadn’t interpreted it, it would’ve just remained an ordinary independence army artifact.

I’m a college student majoring in that field, and this is a huge discovery, way bigger than people think. Independence fighters had the sensibility of their era too, so the things they wrote were all so solemn. Almost nothing was left behind in such a human, intimate way;;;;; In that sense, this writing is like a long-awaited rain for people like us. The independence fighters were people too, you know~~~

As public opinion grew more excited, the media shifted its focus to Mok Hyunsun, the critic who had succeeded with this “humanistic approach.”

But Mok Hyunsun refused interviews, saying, “Hasn’t Professor Lee already given one?”

Yet Korean reporters are relentless, and a few days later, on his way to work, Mok Hyunsun was finally cornered by one. The reporter trotted up to him as he walked and asked, “You’re Critic Mok, right?”

“And if I am?” Contrary to rumor, he didn’t seem particularly resistant to interviews.

He merely looked at the reporter as if to ask, Why are you here? “Could I have a moment of your time?”

“I’m on my way to the office. I’m already running a little late…”

For that reason, he kept walking briskly.

Unfortunately for him, the reporter was a petite woman, and she clattered after him with her legs stretched nearly to the limit. “Could you say just one word about your interpretation of the independence army artifact?”

“Ah, that? I fully agree with Professor Lee’s opinion.”

“Do you have any thoughts on the success of the ‘humanistic approach,’ or anything else you’d like to add about the artifact?”

“It’s a little funny to call it a success, but, well, since we got it done, I’d like to say everyone worked hard,” he said, sounding as though he did have something more to say about the relic.

But then, as if asking what good words would do anyway, he smiled at the camera. “What I’d like to say will be published in a quarterly magazine soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.” He even waved at the camera.

And before the reporter could ask anything else, he hurried into the main office of Gyeongseong Publishing. Mok Hyunsun didn’t realize it yet, but the interview was soon twisted into this headline: Mok Hyunsun Will Publish a Follow-Up on the Independence Army Artifact Interpretation in Gyeongseong Geul! From that day on, everyone’s attention was fixed on the autumn issue of Gyeongseong Geul without question.

─┼

It happened when I went to the smoking area with the senior editors.

I didn’t especially like cigarette smoke, but it was nice being able to lounge around here without drawing any side-eye. Just then the door to the smoking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠room opened, and Senior Jo came in.

The same Senior Jo who had originally been scheduled to go to Yongin. “Hyunsun.”

“Hello, senior.” Jo Senior rested a hand on my shoulder. “If I hadn’t sent you to Yongin, it would’ve been a disaster, right? I feel weirdly proud, like I really accomplished something.”

Honestly, absurd.

Anyone would think he’d sent me there out of concern.

He’d done the math to the last penny. But I, too, had my own version of social survival, so I played along. “Of course. Thanks to you, senior.”

“Hey, hey, Jo Inhwan. Don’t go taking credit for Mok Hyunsun’s work.”

Yang Senior scolded Jo Senior with a cigarette between his lips.

Apparently the two were company recruitment-year buddies.

Yun Senior exhaled a stream of smoke and said, “Right. The only people who can take credit for Mok are us.”

“You’re all messing around. And you still call yourselves seniors?”

“That’s right, Jo Inhwan. You picked a good target in Hyunsun. We were actually going to stop by the Korean Literature Department later anyway.”

Kim Senior handed him a thick document envelope that had been sitting on the bench. “Huh? What’s this, Kim Senior?”

“What do you mean, what is it? Hyunsun went to Yongin for you, and in exchange you said you’d do the proofreading for the autumn issue of Gyeongseong Geul. This.”

“...Oh, right.” He’d apparently forgotten all about it.

Seeing the thickness of the envelope, he made a miserable face. “There’s a lot here. Come on—let’s cut it in half.”

“Hyunsun went to Yongin and pulled off something huge. You should do at least that much. Quit whining and take it. No take-backs.”

“...Tch. Fine. Cigarettes don’t taste good anymore. I’m out.”

In the end, Jo Senior slumped his shoulders and went inside with the envelope in hand.

Yang Senior cackled. “Serves you right. You were happy enough when you were handing out work, weren’t you?”

“Still, Jo Inhwan isn’t wrong. If Mok hadn’t gone, wouldn’t that have been almost a national loss?”

“Come on, now. National loss is a bit much.”

At Kim Senior’s overblown reaction, I just laughed. Ever since I’d returned from Yongin, it had been like this nonstop.

Everyone who looked at me treated me like a patriot of legend.

That was a little burdensome.

If I had truly been a patriot, I’d have gladly given my head to the country and let them crack it open themselves. Anyway, I was just waiting for the editorial meeting for Gyeongseong Geul to be held.

Because if, by some chance, my criticism got cut at the editorial meeting, I’d have to look for another quarterly magazine.

What, did they think they’d definitely publish it just because I’d sent it in?

That kind of complacency gets even obvious things rejected.

You had to be tense. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠This was my writing being published.

Meanwhile, the web novel account “Forest” was still doing well enough that I didn’t need to be as tense there.

As planned, I was releasing the webtoon review feed one post at a time with a delay between them. Buzzzz. My phone rang.

When I checked, it wasn’t a text but an email. “What is it?”

“An email. Probably spam.” Since I had the time, I figured I might as well delete some spam.

So I opened the mail app and—“…Huh?” [A request from the National Heritage Administration and the Ministry of Patriots and Veterans Affairs to Critic Mok Hyunsun.] I could understand the National Heritage Administration, but why the Ministry of Patriots and Veterans Affairs?

Picking up on the odd atmosphere, the seniors swarmed over. “What is it? ...Huh?”

“Huh? The Ministry of Patriots and Veterans Affairs? Mok, are you being drafted again?”

“Hey! Yang Ho-san, use your eyes. They probably sent it about the artifact. Mok, open it already.”

I opened the email right away and read it aloud.

Skipping over the polite greetings, I said, “

Given these reasons, we have determined that the artifacts excavated in Yongin City hold considerable value from the perspectives of multiple academic fields as well as national patriots’ affairs, and therefore wish to place the relic in the National Museum of Korea. In addition, the National Heritage Administration and the Ministry of Patriots and Veterans Affairs plan to hold a commemorative event at the National Museum of Korea to mark the occasion, and we would like to invite the critic who made such a significant contribution to the analysis of the artifact.

”

“Ooooh~ You’re being invited to a state event?”

“Should we go too?” But that wasn’t the end of it.

“Also, after our investigation, we have confirmed that Critic Mok Hyunsun plans to publish a criticism concerning the artifact. If it is not too much trouble, would it be acceptable to include a full reading of that criticism in the event program…”

“...”

“...”

“Wow.” Yun Senior murmured the word under his breath.

...Right?

They were asking me to recite my criticism at a government event?

I read it again, and that seemed to be exactly what it said. The seniors who had been joking around stared at me, their eyes round.

At the very least, as adult men who had served in the military, they understood the weight of the Ministry of Patriots and Veterans Affairs.

They understood what it meant to have your own writing recited at an event like that, too. As for how I felt, of course I was pleased.

If you got something like this and remained indifferent, that would make you the problem.

But this criticism was, first and foremost, meant for Gyeongseong Geul, wasn’t it? “...This is difficult.”

Judging by the schedule for the event, it would be a long time before the autumn issue of Gyeongseong Geul was released.

Maybe even before the editorial meeting. And it seemed that email wasn’t spam after all.

Right before leaving work, Editor Im came looking for me. In his office, he got straight to the point. “You got the email, right? I heard a cooperation request came in directly from Representative Moon’s side.”

“Yes, I got it. But I want that piece published in Gyeongseong Geul.”

Pre-releasing a piece that was supposed to appear in Gyeongseong Geul—from the publisher’s perspective, that probably wasn’t very appealing.

Besides, I had once made the unusual choice to release the commentary on Gwae on social media.

Doing something like that twice was a bit... “Do you want me to refuse if they ask us to refuse?”

“Yes. For now, I’m a person of Gyeongseong Publishing.”

Of course I loved my country, but I wasn’t the type to wave a flag with my chest puffed out for a state event.

I also hadn’t written that piece just to show off at some ceremony. “From the publisher’s standpoint, it’s better long-term not to refuse a national project. What do you think about having that piece presented there?”

“If that happens, it becomes a pre-release. Is that all right?”

He looked as if it wasn’t all right at all.

The publisher’s side seemed to be in nearly as much trouble as I was. “I’d like you to write something else for the autumn issue of Gyeongseong Geul. Is that impossible?”

...So this was how it ended.

“It’s a little tight, but not impossible.”

To be honest, I didn’t want to do that.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to write a new critique.

If I set my mind to it, I could have done it tonight. It was just that this piece, To You, Who Sent Such an Innocent Letter, was special to me.

How long had I been waiting for a chance to write something this weighty?

And the only quarterly magazine that could bear that weight was Gyeongseong Geul.

They wanted me to let all of that go with a single public reading? No matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t accept that. “Um, Editor-in-Chief.”

He lifted his chin slightly, as if to say, Go on then. I slipped the copy of my criticism I’d printed out and brought with me—just in case something like this happened—from my bag.

“Would you read the piece first and think about it again?”