Chapter 132
Chapter 132
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: Kim Chunsik's Genuine Masterpieces (1)
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I pretended to be moderately ill and pulled myself together.
"The inkstone—could you bring me that inkstone?"
"It's not like the inkstone's going to run away. Just rest up properly."
I racked my brain for an excuse that wouldn't arouse Se-hwa's suspicions.
"Su Dongpo loved the Duanxi inkstone so much he carried it with him to bed every night and even wrote a poem about it. How could I, a scholar, not emulate such elegance? I'm the type who gets restless if I go even a day without writing. Grinding ink on that stone and inhaling its fragrance should help me recover."
"……Ah, alright."
Don't look at me like I'm some trauma victim who's lost his mind. What if you start doubting my scholarship?
I overheard Se-hwa telling a bored Yi Hwan-i outside, "Your father's still delirious, so don't go in. Go check on your little sibling instead." It only made me sadder.
When Se-hwa brought the inkstone, the status window popped up before my eyes.
What the hell?
Don't these status window bastards know basic math? How is 1 + 5 = 4?
At that moment, a hypothesis fitting the 18th century flashed through my mind.
I called out to Yi Hwan-i.
"Hwan-i! Come in here."
"Mother said not to go in."
A bright, chirpy voice came from outside.
Yeah, he was already five in Korean age.
But kids that age are predictable—they're just waiting for an excuse. Why else would he be lingering out there?
"Daddy'll play with you, so come on in."
Yi Hwan-i glanced at his mother but scampered inside anyway. I laid out the inkstones and handed him one at random.
"This one's yours from now on."
Not even knowing what it was, he giggled and took it, probably thinking it was some plaything.
And the status window appeared.
Got it.
Good thing my half-baked theory checked out.
"Now give that one to Daddy and take this one instead."
"Okay!"
Yi Hwan-i plopped the heavy inkstone down in front of me with a thud, then grabbed the one next to it with a proud little flex to show off his strength. Se-hwa's face was growing more worried by the second, but I'd ignore that for now.
Now it was crystal clear.
The first inkstone Yi Hwan-i took was genuine. That's why the status window count changed.
The one he took this time was fake. That's why it didn't budge.
I'd forgotten that most antiques circulating in this era were fakes.
Snapping out of it under Se-hwa's gaze, I had Yi Hwan-i grind ink on the fake one to back up my earlier excuse.
Having learned a bit of writing himself, he wanted to show off too. He ground the ink in that hilariously kid-specific posture where everything's awkwardly rigid. It was pretty funny.
Se-hwa asked in an uneasy voice.
"What's all this nonsense?"
"I've been too busy to be a proper father, so I was just playing with him for a bit."
After a moment's thought, Se-hwa teared up and gripped my hand tightly.
"Don't think we're grateful for that. You have to stay strong. We can't live without you."
I'm not checking off some terminal patient's bucket list, you know?
If the status window popped up saying "You'll die in three days," I wouldn't be hugging my loved ones tenderly. I'd be hugging a bomb and charging into Changdeok Palace.
Let's all blow up together. I ain't going alone out of spite.
Soul's real, but no hell? Fine. My soul won't even be mine by then.
I'd just figured out a way to complete the quest and make some money.
Shame about the fake gifts, but discovering this status window trick more than made up for it.
Se-hwa, scrutinizing my face closely, finally seemed relieved. I was curious what expression I'd made, but business first.
The two who sent me the fakes were appraiser Seo Sang-su and calligrapher Lee Gwang-sa.
Seo Sang-su was about my age, while Lee Gwang-sa was an old man.
Not officials or soldiers, but pure artists. Turns out they'd heard about me from Jeong Cheol and Byeon Sang-byeok (their doujin circle H-Jinsa was still thriving) and sent gifts to get on my good side.
No malice there. They just didn't know. Lee Gwang-sa, maybe, but Seo Sang-su was a pro appraiser.
Not surprising, though. Even top experts mess up art appraisals.
Especially in this era when the art market's just budding.
After the Manchu invasions shattered the class system, rootless commoners with cash started flaunting culture to fill the void.
They threw money around, surrounding themselves with fine horses, beauties, exotic flowers, rare stones crammed into every cabinet.
Just like 19th-century European bourgeois mass-producing fake noble culture to play aristocrat (real nobles were all guillotined anyway, so who noticed?).
Tch. Vulgar lot. Nobility doesn't come from material things.
That's why in 20th-century Korea, throwing lavish ancestral rites made folks think you were yangban stock, ripping pillars out for weddings and funerals.
But the industry lacked strict traditions or standards to match these wannabe yangban's cultural binge. Hard to tell black from white, third-rate from first-rate—it's all arbitrary.
Perfect ground for fleecing suckers.
This is the "rise of commoner culture in late Joseon" from the textbooks.
Surprisingly, the dark ointment the crown prince sent worked wonders—or maybe humans just heal well from non-infectious wounds. My injury mended smoothly.
No more wincing when clothes brushed my skin, even without channeling Guan Yu's endurance. So I invited Seo Sang-su and Lee Gwang-sa for a meal.
With utmost regret, I said,
"I'm no expert, but my family has a tradition of scholarship, so I know a bit about inkstones. The ones you sent... they're forgeries."
They flushed red with anger.
"We showed proper courtesy first, yet a scholarly house insults us like this?!"
"Impossible! I know Kim Chunsik's famed for calligraphy, but I'm no connoisseur. No way I'd mistake the renowned Shekkan-kan inkstone!"
Oh dear. No helping it.
If you're right, prove it with a duel.
"Who in the capital is famed for their appraisal eye? Let's bring them in and see. If I'm wrong, I can't leave experts like you in the wilderness—I'll pull strings for an official post on my family's name."
No one asked, "You, a flogged, unemployed nobody—how?"
They knew I could, that's why they sent gifts. Low-level posts for them would be easy.
People were finally recognizing my virtue after this incident. Justice prevails.
Even Park Jiwon got into the Office of Diplomatic Correspondence via special admission to Gangnam University for leading the cold noodle legion. He's probably getting thrashed at his initiation ritual right now, but lattes were worse—no helping it but call it a life experience.
After a moment, Lee Gwang-sa spoke to Seo Sang-su.
"For appraisals, no one tops your master, Sanggodang. Right?"
"W-Well, true, but..."
Seo Sang-su glanced at me, expecting me to balk at bias.
Not at all.
This incident taught me something.
No matter the vile schemes, truth always triumphs.
And Sanggodang Kim Gwang-su was someone I knew.
Back in Gojeang's game: Classic, King Gyeongjong felt his lifespan running out.
He tried a base raid with inner officials Park Sang-geom and Mun Yu-do to take out his brother, but former Minister of Personnel Kim Dong-pil's super save foiled it. Kim Gwang-su was Kim Dong-pil's son.
In other words, same Noron loyalist lineage as me.
So two days later, when the capital's top appraiser Sanggodang Kim Gwang-su arrived, the mood was warm.
This duel wasn't to humiliate Lee Gwang-sa or Seo Sang-su.
I'd made it a big event for another reason.
I invited my hobby-obsessed father and seven or eight like-minded enthusiasts. Even idle Hong Daeyong for gayageum BGM instead of baduk.
After a few rounds of rice wine loosened things up, Jangbok solemnly brought out the inkstones on trays amid the scholars' quiet gasps.
Kim Gwang-su stepped forward, sleeves hiked.
He peered close, muttered, even ground ink to sniff.
Then he set it down, took a deep breath, and lifted the two fakes—one in each hand.
And smashed them together hard.
Stone shards flew as the sturdy things shattered.
Old man's got vigor. Hong Daeyong kicked into fast tempo, clearly enjoying the show.
Everyone but me was stunned.
Especially disciple Seo Sang-su, who shot up.
"N-No, Master! What are you doing?!"
Kim Gwang-su bellowed like a haughty judge in a cooking manga who'd just tasted the hero's dish his disciple mocked.
"Don't you dare claim you studied under me! Fooled by color and shape? What's an inkstone for? Grind ink with a clear mind once, and you wouldn't gift this trash. Shameful!"
He tapped the genuine Shekkan-kan I'd set aside.
"Duanxi inkstones enhance ink's fragrance and color—that's why they're masterpieces. Grind here and write; you'll see! Even if I can't match Kim Chunsik's famed erudition, to push me into disgracing myself like this!"
Then to me:
"One might be luck, but picking two out of five flawlessly? Chunsik's eye is the real masterpiece."
Calligrapher Lee Gwang-sa, spared disciple scolding, couldn't lift his head. Had I just proven modern genius theory?
Father whispered beside me.
"Can't you tuck in that nose and chin? Even if right, strutting so arrogantly—how will scholars see you? Still teaching you this?"
Sorry, Father.
Following filial piety, I showed humility.
"How could I presume to best scholars versed in literary elegance? Gifts are the thought, so I feel I've received true ones. Today was just to expose the scoundrel selling fakes to you gentlemen."
Defeated Seo Sang-su piped up hastily.
"Indeed. I was fooled too..."
"Quiet! An appraiser proud of being duped?!"
Seo crumpled under Kim Gwang-su's rebuke. I formally stopped Kim, encouraged Seo, then got to the point.
"Since we've gathered you all, this fellowship brings more joy than mere inkstones. Let's meet often to appraise like this. I learned much from Sanggodang today."
Father, loving such clubs, agreed heartily.
"I thought my fool son was up to some prank again, but this idle elegance is a scholar's true calling. With our in-law Hong Deok-bo's music and Park Hana's fine dishes, come anytime."
Guests were thrilled. Half probably saw it as a networking excuse, but whatever. They all bought brother-in-law's pharmacy pills too.
And I'd achieved my goal.
Authority rules this industry.
Who the appraiser is matters more than their reasoning.
Especially sans scientific analysis—tech just hinders profits, proven again.
My appraisal eye, endorsed by Sanggodang, and this group's authority—unrivaled in the capital.
What’s that mean?
I now decide Hanyang antiques' authenticity. And prices.
While Kim Unhaeng was deep in planning his authentic masterpieces variety show that spring, court politics weren't so cozy.
Soron and Wanron turned passive after Park Mun-su flipped, forgetting past protection.
Noron too.
Yeonan Yi clan's Dongdang, tied to Minister Yi Ik-bo, were royal enemies post his death.
Cheongpung Kim clan's Namdang, holding via Yi Geum's clan, never respected him much.
Chundang? We'd half-killed their leader.
Only Noron Bukdang with Hong Bong-han remained.
Explains the Loyalist Purge.
Made sense. Besides Hong Bong-han, only Left Councillor Jo Jae-ho among ministers held post; even the three chiefs and six boards were understaffed.
Ministers' ultimate weapon short of coup: worse than hate, pure silence.
No coming to court, killing parents, faking illnesses—council stalled. Compromise time.
A normal king would. But Yi Geum's rage flared hotter.
"From premier to convict, all state affairs are conscript duty. Obey the king's command. How dare you bargain with intangibles?"
Such insolence was tolerated because prior kings were mere mortals born sans Yi Geum.
Now he'd deal with these would-be rebels seriously.
Head-on? Army first.
As king, seizing military needed no plots.
Yi Geum swapped Training Command general from Kim Seong-eung to Hong Bong-han post-rebel pacification. Also to check the crown prince.
But aware of Kim's "narrow mind," he "rewarded" him with Royal Guard command, demoting the mere figurehead Sinmin to Hong's old Royal Guard post.
Royal Guard now expendable.
After palace fiasco and feeble Ganghwa (thanks to my scheme), rational Yi Geum saw it as dead weight.
Whatever Sinmin, hero of crushing Hong Mo-jeok, thought.
Yi Geum's delicate balancing act, no losses.
Despite melee loss, leveraging massive mulligan, Yi Geum aimed to reclaim Gojeang's game: Reforged dominance.
New Training Command general Hong Bong-han visited the crown prince under courtesy pretext.
Not careless enough for politics first—officially, just father-son chat.
"Kim Chunsik's left the Military Armory, but his elite craftsmen remain. To bolster military funds, Your Highness should encourage them."
Kim Unhaeng alone dismissed it, but arms sales were Training Command's main revenue. Crown prince nodded.
"That's my duty. But Chunsik returning would be better... What’s he up to?"
"Rumor has it he's indulging in luxuries. Gathers folks every ten days for appraisals—Kim Chunsik, Sanggodang Kim Gwang-su, scholars deep in poetry, calligraphy, painting."
No need mentioning antique dealers bribing to join.
Not what mattered to Hong Bong-han.
Nor the crown prince.
"As expected of the Hundred-Strategy Chunsik. Isn't this the Taohui Scheme, like Liu Bei dropping chopsticks—hiding one's talents?"
Hong Bong-han inwardly shook his head. Three Kingdoms again? Liu Bei analogy too risky.
"Precisely. Like Wang Jian requesting estate and fields from Qin Shi Huang. No harm in Chunsik's intent, so avoid needless suspicion."
Not sudden fondness for son-in-law Kim Unhaeng.
Like crown prince couldn't openly defy father, Hong couldn't cut Yi Geum cleanly.
But lately, king's vigor waned clearly. Per experience, old folks starting oddities die soon.
Time for safeguards. Like original history: ditching fading-vigor prince early, even aiding the cage incident.
"So don't urge rehiring Chunsik rashly and anger His Majesty. Bestow favor another way."
Crown prince, eager to favor Chunsik highly, brightened.
Author's Note
1. All appraisal figures mentioned are real, but Seo Sang-su merely inherited Kim Gwang-su's collection, not a disciple. Actual heir to appraisal skills was Kim Gwang-guk, omitted to avoid name confusion. Duanxi or Shekkan-kan inkstones don't upgrade ink.
2. Park Sang-geom and Mun Yu-do were executed for plotting against Prince Yeoning; Gyeongjong initially sheltered them, but like poisoning rumors, unclear if his intent.