Rice Sacks for My Life? Hell No
"We'll give you six sacks."
"Seven."
"Then how about eight sacks?"
"Nine."
"What about ten sacks?"
Bargaining up the price like this pisses me off. It's kinda funny, though.
Is this a flea market? No counteroffers accepted?
"Haggling over a person's life with mere sacks of rice, like some marketplace deal. Isn't this situation utterly ridiculous, teachers? If so, why not just split my body in half and divide it between you?"
It's so cheap it actually makes me a little sad. Ten Chen Soyoungs would barely equal one warhorse, right?
The old perv I pegged as a lolicon was Master Shui Jing. Sitting next to him is Zhuge Liang. No, you old geezers. Even Shim Cheong got 300 seok of tribute rice.
"Why no response? This seems like the most obvious answer to me."
You're supposed to be the top intellectuals of this era, counted on one hand. Great men like you. Even you shouldn't stoop to this.
Offer a fair price. Not this nonsense about rice sacks. How low are you planning to lowball my worth? Make it a fixed price. My lifespan's worth 1,800 years—no less. No counteroffers.
"What kind of absurd nonsense is that..."
"Quiet!"
My shout leaves Father at a loss. Master Shui Jing smiles faintly at me. Zhuge Liang twitches his eyebrows, looking a bit tense.
"She's not right in the head, is she? What the hell is even going on here?"
My body's shaking from sheer disbelief. You're all the same as everyone else. Ha... this goddamn late Han era.
"Do I really have to die for this conversation to end? If so, kill me and take me. Buying and selling people with rice is insane. How? How can you talk about it like it's normal? You of all people?"
Master Shui Jing holds out his open palm. Seeing it, Zhuge Liang straightens his posture.
This is a situation where he could draw his sword and lop off my head without consequence. Clearly, the master has some other agenda.
"Why get so fired up, child? Calm down and speak freely."
He must find this amusing. That poker-face smile screams he's untouchable.
"I'm just lamenting how wrong the world is. Why are you so casually putting a price on my life?"
"It's not about your life price. There's a lotus buried in the mud—we're just trying to dig it out. Do you think I'd deceive you?"
"Do I even have a choice? No matter how much I shake my head, you gentlemen could seize me so easily. Shouting from the foot of the mountain gets no echo, let alone reaching the peak. No matter what I say, my voice won't be heard!"
Zhuge Liang stands. Master Shui Jing raises his right arm toward him.
Zhuge Liang extends his left hand open and clenches his right into a fist, clashing them together. He bows to the master, then sits back down.
After their silent exchange, Master Shui Jing turns to me.
"So, what is your true intent? I've come down from the mountain—now your voice can be heard, no?"
Master Shui Jing doesn't budge, waiting for my reply.
If you're taking that attitude, I'll spill my experiences without holding back.
"Our neighbor, Old Man Woo Shin, didn't survive last winter. He was the head of a family with six kids. When he died, his wife sold off five of them—except the eldest—to save the rest. I still hear that woman's cries sometimes. Thanks to His August Emperor setting a price on human lives, those two survived. I'm deeply moved by the late emperor's wisdom."
My words amount to treason.
The High Ancestor—another name for Liu Bang, founder of Han—legalized human trafficking during famines to prevent starvation. Not just idle gossip. It was my hobby for nearly three boring, pedantic years.
I'd planned to bolt if that weird old creep came hobbling over on his cane. But now... things have gone sideways. Sorry, Dad. I can't do this. Just rice sacks? It's shattering my dignity. Better to die. My body's just annoyingly tough, that's why I'm alive. You're all so contemptible I'd rather die. I'm sick of this world.
"Is that your stance? I can't just let that slide. Do you even grasp the implications?"
"Oh, I do. The world's abnormal—why should I conform? How can you haggle a life over a few sacks of rice?"
"The world is abnormal? Who do you think you are? Such arrogance, piercing the heavens! If your insight is that profound, I must ask: why do you think so?"
"How do you explain the obvious? If everyone lived by Confucius's rites, would the world be like this? Calling abnormality what it is—is that wrong? Punish me however you like. Kill me."
Cold air whistles through the cracked walls. The ghost-like howl grates on my nerves.
We all sit there like cowboys in a standoff, waiting for who draws first.
I know what I've done. It's okay. I'm fine. You did good, Chen Soyoung. I didn't want to get tangled up. This was the best way.
"Kongming. Let's go."
"Yes, Master."
As the two leave wordlessly, I hear shouts and the rumble of wheels.
This is the sound of my life ending. My heart starts hollowing out. ...What about Dad?
*
Zhuge Liang and Sima Hui, the Master Shui Jing, rode together in the carriage he'd brought.
"Ha... haha... HAHAHA!"
Sima Hui burst into the laughter he'd been holding back.
Every word from Chen Soyoung was laced with sharp barbs—bold yet witty.
What surprised him most was her quick wit; her words flowed without hitch, like water, that soft voice still echoing in his ears.
Though not the sort to sway hearts, every phrase from that tiny frame was so clever and endearing.
"Top quality, isn't she? My eye for talent hasn't failed. She'll go far."
"Her fiery temper worries me—she might bring big trouble. But with such talent, and utmost loyalty and brotherhood, it's a shame to waste it."
"I agree. Great talents don't come from noble houses."
In Zhuge Liang's eyes, Chen Soyoung had clearly been possessed by righteous fury.
"Chen Soyoung must have framed it as loyalty to the imperial house. It's frustrating that men of her insight are forced to hide among commoners."
Her argument lamented the golden age of the founding emperor while mocking the current chaos.
No sane person would dare disparage High Ancestor Liu Bang, so Zhuge Liang's reasoning held.
"Locals call that place the 'Great Man's house.' He ignores his own safety to aid neighbors' relief—how could I not cherish him? I tried a little ploy with some rice, but her integrity won't bend easily."
"Did I ruin it? I reported only facts, without exaggeration: rumors say you've been lost to women, neglecting disciples, letting the academy grow lax. I thought little of it but had slight doubts, so I spoke out of concern."
Rumors of Sima Hui chasing skirts had circulated for months.
Jingzhou was like that anyway, so Zhuge Liang dismissed it—until Sima Hui arrived.
Chen Soyoung dressed humbly, but her features were strikingly beautiful.
Zhuge Liang had even suspected Sima Hui might be after her.
"If even you fell for it, I'm not rusty yet. Tricking a girl that sharp takes effort—worth it for my 'arm-not-out' act. Don't worry."
"That's a relief. I was afraid..."
"Enough of that. But you did mess it up, so I can't let it slide without punishment."
Zhuge Liang knew Sima Hui better than anyone, so he wasn't too concerned.
"I'll accept it gladly. My petty suspicion slandered your intent."
"No need to explain your motives. I have homework for you."
"What is it?"
"You botched it, so fix it. Yao enlisted hermits; Tang summoned loyal retainers. What must you do?"
"...Spot and employ the lowly talented."
"Exactly. You know it well—no more words. Open your city gates wide and achieve your will."
Zhuge Liang bowed respectfully, resolve firm in his eyes.
"I've already planned. I spoiled your scheme—unfilial Kongming will exert utmost sincerity to make amends."
Acquiring a sage was like marrying off a daughter or welcoming a bride.
The skirt-chasing rumors about Sima Hui. Zhuge Liang had pondered their truth today, without blockage.
"By the way... Kongming, why did you come all this way?"
"I too fell pathetically for a woman's charms."