Walls Have Ears (1)
The world is not one where opportunities for education are handed out equally. Just attending an academy meant your family had some real wealth. But Cheongeumbang was different. Thanks to the noble vision of past leaders, every child raised in Sishui got a shot at learning.
That was why every alley had its own academy, even if the sizes varied. Still, there was no escaping hierarchy. In a world with such rigid class structures, you couldn't just throw high and low together without regard for rank.
The carriage departing from Unjeong Pavilion pulled up at the academy in the heart of Naemiwon.
"I'll wait outside."
"Got it."
Jin Yeo-rip glanced at Im Pilsaeng and stepped up to the academy gates.
"Wonseo Academy... wait, backwards?"
Out of habit, he'd read the signboard from left to right, then tried right to left. Man hak Seowon. Full Learning Academy. A place brimming with knowledge.
"Nice name."
But was that all it had going for it? This was the biggest academy in Naemiwon, with the highest quality teaching. That's why the students here were all collateral kin or children of elders— the future leaders of Cheongeumbang, gathered to compete and lay their foundations.
"So only the elite brats attend, huh?"
With a smirk, Jin Yeo-rip stepped through the wide-open gates.
"If you're here, get your ass inside already! What are you dawdling for?"
A shrill voice rang out from somewhere. White square hat, wide sleeves on a pristine white robe. Eyebrows white as fresh snow, beard hanging down to his chest. The old man was white from head to toe.
Jin Yeo-rip had heard one of Cheongeumbang's elders hung around the academy dressed like that. And yeah, he recognized him right away. Baekhak, wasn't it? Looked just like a white crane, and Jin Yeo-rip could already guess his personality. Obsessively clean, crotchety as hell, full of pent-up fire even when he didn't need to yell.
"Hey! Lazing around on your first day? Get in here now!"
Baekhak barked at him, then spun on his heel and marched inside. As an elder, maybe he didn't give a damn about the Young Master's title—straight to casual speech from the jump. And no welcoming crowd either. Jin Yeo-rip had figured teachers and students would swarm out for greetings when the Young Master showed up.
So which side was this guy on? Father's faction? Stepmother's? Neutral? Whatever. No point overthinking it now. He'd figure it out step by step. If the old man turned into an obstacle, he'd clear him out by any means necessary...
Jin Yeo-rip startled himself mid-thought. What the hell? That sounded brutally cold-blooded just now.
"Ah, damn... this Twelve Flows crap."
He glared at the demonic impulse surging up, stirring his emotions like it owned the place. Im Pilsaeng was right—the Reverse Heaven method messed with your feelings. The slightest trigger, and it acted like the boss, whispering to slaughter anything in the way like some devil on his shoulder.
As Jin Yeo-rip hesitated, Baekhak shot him an irritated glare and muttered.
"Tch! Shoving an unprepared punk into the advanced class just 'cause he's the Young Master. Age doesn't mean shit if you're dumber than a kid!" Twang!
Whoa. Maha Prajnaparamita Heart Sutra, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva... Jin Yeo-rip recited the Heart Sutra in his mind to tamp down the sudden rage. Otherwise, he'd have snapped the old man's neck right there.
Finally calming down, he cracked a wry smile. Buddha had a twisted sense of planning. Reverse Heaven method mixed with sutras—good and evil all stirred together.
With his mind settled, his brain kicked back into gear. Baekhak's grumbling was obviously aimed at whoever gave the order.
"Probably neutral."
The advanced class already had kids seated and waiting, ages all over the map—younger, older, same as him. Some smiled and bowed his way, others ignored him, a few sneered with thin-eyed smirks.
If he hadn't known the situation, he might not have clocked it. But now he did. Cheongeumbang was split between father's faction and stepmother's, and the academy reflected it perfectly. The friendly ones were father's collateral kin; the rest, stepmother's side.
"What are you standing there gawking for? Find an empty seat!"
As Jin Yeo-rip scanned the room, Baekhak bellowed.
Maha Prajna... Every time anger flared, he recited the sutra silently, reflecting on its meaning. Hell, he should recommend it to Baekhak. Anger was the root of all illness, after all.
"Tch tch, so frivolous! There's an art to walking—keep your stride even, steps heavy!"
A few kids giggled at the scolding. Critiquing his walk now? Just as picky as expected.
"Ahem! Books out, everyone. New kid or not, lessons have progression—we can't cater to one. Open to the ninth chapter of the Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art."
"Yes, sir."
The kids chorused and flipped their books. Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art? What the hell was that? First time hearing it. But not wanting another earful, Jin Yeo-rip rummaged through the books So Hye had packed.
"Here it is."
Quick on the draw, he opened it without a hitch, and class began.
"Before the ninth chapter, let's review. The first, on fields, was implemented long ago by official Wang Anshi to balance taxes and bolster the national treasury..."
Jin Yeo-rip tuned into Baekhak's voice. Nine chapters total. First one on fields—fang units or something. Tough. He'd thought inheriting those memories made him a genius, but he couldn't parse a word. Lived in Shaolin his whole life—how was he supposed to know this? Sutras, maybe.
No matter how sharp the brain, brand-new stuff didn't click instantly. His vow crumbled. Figured inheriting genius brains meant grokking anything on the fly, learning one thing and mastering ten. Nope.
Haa, shit... Can't start off like this.
He flipped through the fields chapter amid the incomprehensible lecture. But the more he read, the more familiar it felt. Not from his body's genius—stuff from his past life's knowledge.
"Huh? This is... math?"
The mutter slipped out, drawing glances from the kids and a roar from Baekhak.
"You punk!"
"..."
"What the hell are you thinking in class?!"
"N-no, that's not—"
"Tch! That's why advanced class is a no-go. What were they thinking sending you?!"
"..."
Baekhak was raging again. Jin Yeo-rip's irritation bubbled. What kind of teacher doesn't listen and just yells? Lips pursed, he swallowed a torrent of inner curses.
Interest tanked. Math or whatever under this guy? Kids would turn out predictable.
Time dragged. And dragged... Ah, sleepy. First class in ages? Or overdid morning training? Can't blow day one as exemplary Young Master.
Baekhak's droning voice was hypnotic, eyelids drooping like late-night ASMR. Teacher, cut it out. That flat, monotonous ramble of gibberish—pure torture.
Pinched thighs, jerked head side to side, rubbed neck... No dice.
Zzz...
Thighs relaxed, shoulders slumped, head nodding. Sleep when sleepy—true bliss.
Head dipped low and stuck. Cross-legged seats sucked. Why so uncomfortable?
Slump.
Legs stretched out. How long after? Poke.
Poke poke.
Annoying. Half-asleep, he scowled and swatted it away.
"Hngh... seriously."
The flailing scared it off. Awake-ish, he slapped arms on the desk and face-planted. Drifting into deep sleep—
Whack!
"Gahk!"
A brutal smack to the head slammed his face into the desk.
"Ow! My head, you fucking— what the hell?!"
Wincing at the pain, he rubbed his skull and looked up. What the—pale thing? Pale robes, pale beard... familiar.
"Fuuuuck?! You bastaaard!"
A roar like thunder from his dantian shook the academy. Face twisted red. Yeah, that was the "fierce god and evil killer" look. Baekhak loomed beside him, the culprit.
"You damned punk! Sleeping in class?!"
"Uh, that was..."
Too late for excuses—no good reason popped up. 'Your voice was too soothing'? Yeah, more beatings.
"Can't keep up, so you half-ass lessons instead of grinding harder than anyone?! Sleep?!"
"Sorry."
"Legs stretched?!"
Too uncomfortable.
"Why not lay out a bed while at it?!"
"Sorry."
Everything else stayed internal. More words, and Baekhak—already escalating—might turn literal demon.
"Snoring? Sleep-talking?!"
"Uh..."
Fair. Sprawled out snoring and mumbling—in the center seat. Head drooped lower.
"Out back now! Your respect for the master's teachings is that pathetic—you need to start with rites. Copy the Book of Rites cover to cover!"
"Teacher, it wasn't on purpose..."
"Don't wanna hear it! Back there, copy the whole thing!"
Baekhak jabbed a finger at the rear. Jin Yeo-rip pursed his lips hard and stood.
"Heh heh."
A few kids snickered. These little... He glared daggers at the whispering brats, memorizing faces. Fists trembled, but he held back.
Why the shitty treatment? He was the Young Master, damn it...
"Haa."
Class continued. Jin Yeo-rip knelt on the floor, spread paper, and prepped to copy the rites. Punishment handwriting on day one—packed tight. But what was this? So damn thick?!
He gawked at the massive tome. No heading home tonight.
"Haa..."
Just sighs. Scribble scribble.
Copying dragged on amid Baekhak's dull lecture.
"Ow!"
Knees ached on the floor. Hunched like a shrimp writing tiny script—back screaming. Joints were key for growing kids. Kneeling forever would fuse his growth plates.
Crack!
Stretching popped joints like breaking. Damn, not even a tenth done. Lifting his aching head, he peeked at Baekhak's lesson. Nine Chapters—basically modern math. Merchant clan, so heavy on arithmetic for the kids.
"Huh?"
Weird. As they hit the ninth chapter, Right Triangles, he tilted his head. No way?
Explanations and methods differed, but that was definitely Pythagoras.
"Punk! Eyes up! Sleepyheads don't need my lessons—copy the rites!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
Another scolding. Sigh, head down, brush moving.
Time passed.
"You idiots! Not one knows the answer?!"
Baekhak bellowed.
"Dumbasses! Right triangles are advanced, but can't solve this simple shit?! No one?!"
Harsh words—kids ducked heads, avoiding his gaze.
"Hah! Teaching retards like you... Not worth feeding! Memorize right triangle methods all lunch, inspection after afternoon class! Got it?!"
"Yes."
Deflated chorus. Then Jin Yeo-rip shot his hand up.
"Teacher!"
"What? Rites done already?"
"No, it's..."
"Then what? Beg for a peek? Dream on! No home till it's finished."
"Aish, no!"
"You—!"
Frustrated, Jin Yeo-rip yelled. Baekhak's eyes bulged, face demonic again. But he stood firm.
"That problem! Can I solve it?"