Poetry Thief (8)
The assistant moderator whispered something to the lead moderator, who looked utterly perplexed.
What was going on?
I tilted my head in confusion.
Chui Il-gong's face had gone deathly pale, perhaps because the Emperor's theme was beyond his expectations.
He'd been scribbling away in a daze, but...
As I focused my internal energy on my ears to listen in, the Seo-u Warrior beside me spoke up.
"It seems... there's a bit of a problem with the poem that Poet Chui Il-gong submitted."
"Pardon?"
"The assistant moderator said, 'Is it really okay to submit this as-is? His Majesty the Emperor might issue a stern decree.'"
He must have overheard because he'd been channeling energy into his senses to guard me.
The Emperor, sensing something off as well, addressed the moderator.
"Is there a problem?"
"W-Well..."
"It must be the poem. Let me see it first."
At that, a palace eunuch hurried over from where he stood, took the paper with the poem from the moderator, and presented it to the Emperor.
"Hm. 'Following one's father's will is the beginning of filial piety'... Who composed this?"
The assistant moderator replied to the Emperor's question.
"Poet Song Lok did, Your Majesty."
"Is that so?"
The Emperor covered the paper with a satisfied expression and unfolded another one inscribed with a poem.
This was the one Chui Il-gong had written.
"..."
The Emperor stared at it for a long moment before his face twisted in disbelief.
And then...
"Poet Chui."
"Y-Yes? Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Are you trying to deceive me right now?"
"N-No, Your Majesty!"
"Then what is this poem supposed to be?"
Chui Il-gong, at a complete loss, threw himself prostrate before the Emperor.
"Th-This humble one had no such intention!"
The Emperor handed the paper with the poem to the eunuch.
"Read it aloud."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The eunuch unfolded the paper and began reciting the poem.
"What kind of nonsense theme is 'Moving Mountains' or whatever? That bastard's poem doesn't have any of that..."
The content left me and everyone else aghast.
He might as well have turned in a blank sheet...
Was he insane? Even if he hadn't slept all night, how could he write that?
"And you claim this isn't deception?"
"Th-This humble one deserves death!"
"I'll give you one more chance. Write it properly this time!"
And so, Chui Il-gong got another shot. Though even with that, what could he do...?
His hand shook violently as he gripped the brush.
Would we finally see his true skill this time?
On the other hand, I couldn't help but wonder.
How insecure must he have been in his own poetry to steal from others?
Soon enough, he submitted another poem, and the eunuch took it.
"Read it."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The eunuch began reciting.
Wow... he was really bad.
Now I got it. Why he'd stolen poems.
At least he had some self-awareness about his own talent—or lack thereof.
The audience began murmuring around us.
"That last poem doesn't match Mi Si-gak's style at all."
"Why's that?"
The Emperor stared at Chui Il-gong for a moment before ordering the eunuch.
"Bring all the poems Poet Chui has written so far."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The eunuch headed to the judging area, picking out only Chui Il-gong's submissions from the pile and bringing them back.
"Read the first one he wrote."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The eunuch read it aloud.
"The colder the wind, the more joy settles in the snow. Standing with the wind at my back..."
Once the eunuch finished, the Emperor turned to Chui Il-gong.
"This poem's theme was wind and snow. Explain it."
"Th-This poem is, well..."
"..."
"W-Well, the wind is blowing cold, but seeing the snow... the snow falling..."
Chui Il-gong stammered incoherently.
It was only natural.
Poetry packed layers of meaning into every line.
How could he explain it properly when he hadn't written it himself?
That's when my eyes met Song Lok's.
I nodded with a smile and sent him a sound transmission.
— This is your chance to clear your name.
He flinched at my transmission but soon nodded lightly.
He bowed before the Emperor and spoke.
"Merciful Emperor, Your Majesty! I humbly request to explain that poem myself."
"You?"
The Emperor tilted his head at Poet Song Lok but permitted it.
"Go ahead and explain."
"Your grace is boundless! That poem recalls my childhood days playing in the snow. It captures the emotions of a child gazing upon the snow..."
Song Lok explained the poem fluidly, without missing a beat.
By now, everyone had to sense something was off.
"I see. But this poem is attributed to Poet Chui. How do you know it so well?"
"I humbly beg your pardon, but no, Your Majesty."
"No?"
"Indeed. That poem... I wrote it."
"What?"
The Emperor pointed to the name folded over five times.
"This clearly says Poet Chui Il-gong. How is it yours?"
"That is..."
Chui Il-gong quickly cut in.
"Y-Your Majesty! This man is a fraud. He's an imitator who admired my poems and..."
I clicked my tongue at Chui Il-gong's words.
No one would buy that now, yet he seemed oblivious.
"Poet Chui Il-gong."
"Y-Yes, Your Majesty."
"Be silent. Before I have that tongue of yours cut out."
"Eek!"
Chui Il-gong shrank back at the Emperor's words. The Emperor then turned to Song Lok.
"Very well. Explain."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Song Lok took a deep breath and began recounting what had happened to him.
"...And when I was ready to give up everything and end it all, Branch Leader Eun Seo-ho saved me. He gave me this chance to clear my injustice."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Eun Seo-ho, the branch leader? Isn't that Seonhyeopmirang?"
"As expected of Seonhyeopmirang!"
My face burned at that. Come to think of it, I'd forgotten to tell Song Lok not to mention me.
But I couldn't grimace like I'd bitten into a rotten plum here, so I managed my expression—twitching cheeks and all.
Damn it.
How much was the Emperor laughing inside?
But the Emperor was the Emperor. He kept a stern face and summoned Chui Il-gong.
"Chui Il-gong."
"Y-Yes! Your Majesty."
He wasn't even calling him "Poet" anymore.
"Is Poet Song Lok telling the truth?"
"Th-That is..."
"An investigation would reveal it all. No need to struggle."
With that, Chui Il-gong slammed his head to the ground.
"Execute me, Your Majesty!"
He'd realized resistance would only stoke the Emperor's wrath further.
And denying it wouldn't help—investigation would uncover everything, as the Emperor said.
In my eyes, he clearly had other crimes too. That's why he confessed so readily.
Anyway, my plan had worked. Chui Il-gong's shameless crime was laid bare in the light of day.
"Deceiving the judges by passing off others' poems as your own and mocking me—this is no light offense. Gold Guard!"
"Yes!"
"Take him into custody! His punishment will come after the contest ends."
And with that, Chui Il-gong was dragged off to prison by the Gold Guard.
Ah, so refreshing.
.
.
.
The contest concluded.
As I'd predicted, Poet Song Lok took the final victory.
Those who'd lost to Chui Il-gong received consolation prizes.
Paid from Chui Il-gong's pockets, of course.
And I...
"His Majesty the Emperor wishes to see you."
I had to go pay my respects right away.
Moments later, I stood before the Emperor and performed the proper rites.
"I greet Your Majesty the Emperor. Ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand!"
"Rise."
"Your grace is boundless."
As I lifted my head, the Emperor chuckled softly.
"So, how does it feel to be the hero who saved the tragic poet's life and enabled his revenge today?"
"Who wouldn't enjoy being hailed as a hero?"
"Is that right? Your face didn't look so thrilled earlier."
"That was... to keep myself in check."
I continued.
"I am no hero, Your Majesty. But if the world praises me as one, I feared I might start believing it myself."
"What a strange one. But an amusing one, too."
Praise... I think?
"So, that Chui Il-gong was the real target of this poetry contest, wasn't he?"
I didn't deny it.
"Thanks to Your Majesty's wisdom and grace, justice has been served. How could this not be a good thing?"
"You and your silver tongue."
The Emperor grumbled good-naturedly.
"I've confiscated all his assets and sentenced him to salt farm labor."
As I'd advised before, His Majesty was making active use of corvée labor.
"Working the salt pans should give him time to reflect on his wrongs."
Ever since the salt distribution laws, the imperial house had a tight grip on salt.
And they covered the labor through convicts.
Making salt was grueling work.
It felt like fitting punishment for someone who'd hurt others and wasted salt to boot.
Thus ended the bad blood with that thorn in Chief Steward Yu So-ak's side.
"That aside, thanks to you, I discovered some decent talent."
"I'm honored to have provided Your Majesty with entertainment."
Even as I said it, I worried inwardly.
It couldn't be Song Lok, could it?
After all the effort I'd put in, snatching him away would be poor form...
"Don't worry. It's not Poet Song Lok."
"Pardon?"
"First, he's not suited for practical duties. Second, I'm not the kind of lord who covets his retainer's rice cakes."
The first reason seemed the main one.
I finished the audience and left the palace.
"You're back, sir?"
"Yeah."
Palgap approached from where he'd been waiting in front of the palace.
"Poet Song Lok?"
"He's at the victory banquet now, sir."
"Security?"
"Warrior Yeo Eung-am went with him, sir."
Today's banquet was hosted by the Sebin Merchant Group—sponsors of the contest—and our Eunhae Merchant Group.
Attendees included the judges, those who'd helped prepare the event, and eight poets, with the winner among them.
With the Jegal Supreme Patriarch there, it should be safe, but I asked anyway—just in case.
"Hong Eun-ru, right? Let's go."
It would be rude for the host not to show his face.
Soon, I arrived at Hong Eun-ru.
I greeted each attendee one by one, and as time passed, the mood warmed up.
I turned to look at the railing of the pavilion. Poet Song Lok stood there, gazing outside.
I approached him.
"Getting some air?"
"Ah, yes."
He nodded.
"Sitting by the brazier made the alcohol hit harder."
"So, how does it feel?"
"Pardon?"
"You reclaimed the name Mi Si-gak that was stolen from you today."
"Ah..."
Song Lok broke into a bright smile and nodded.
"It feels wonderful."
"Chui Il-gong's punishment is finalized. His family's assets are confiscated, and he'll labor on the salt pans himself."
"...Is that so?"
But his expression wasn't as joyful as I'd expected.
"Aren't you pleased? He's getting what he deserves."
"Honestly... a little. I worry about his family suffering for it."
Revenge achieved, but some lingering regret remained.
"Don't worry about it. They all lived well off Chui Il-gong. If his family has any sense, they've made provisions."
We confiscated Chui Il-gong's wealth, not that of his separated children.
"I'm being sentimental. Thinking like this."
"Having those thoughts just means you're a good person. Nothing wrong with that."
I smiled.
"By the way, you haven't forgotten our deal, right?"
"Of course not."
"We'll be leaving soon, so prepare yourselves."
"Understood."
This time, Song Lok and his family would travel with us.
I glanced at the poets enjoying the banquet.
Some would soon receive imperial decrees from His Majesty.
Why did they seem a bit pitiful?
Of course, I'd handle Song Lok separately.
In merchant work, you often had to sweet-talk trade partners gently.
And those partners weren't limited to merchants.
Sometimes local lords or even imperial kin. Most of them loved poetry.
So, bringing along the poetry contest winner Song Lok to compose a few pieces would soften the mood considerably.
Then strike the deal in that opening.
I grinned, envisioning the perfect plan.
At that moment, a familiar face approached the pavilion, and I couldn't help but flinch.
Ah, no—not His Majesty the Emperor.
You didn't say you were coming here!