Chapter 30 : Grand Historian (3)

Chapter 30: Grand Historian (3)

Thwack!

Wi Yeonho’s go stone struck the board roughly.

The old man's brow furrowed.

He had heard the rumors, but now he found himself shaking his head involuntarily at the sight of this playing style.

‘Such a violent style.’

Even in the middle of a battlefield, you wouldn’t see a game of go like this.

It wasn’t merely a matter of having a hasty personality. If being hasty was enough to produce this kind of go, then one would expect him to draw his sword at the mere brushing of sleeves on the street.

But the man sitting across from him with a scowl did not appear to be someone with such a hot temper.

That’s what made it all the more shocking—first, to see his demeanor change so drastically the moment he sat at the board, and second, to sense an even stronger aura emanating from him than his expression let on.

‘What kind of life has he lived?’

The more he looked, the more incomprehensible the man became.

“Not going to play?”

Wi Yeonho, face twisted in annoyance, broke the silence.

“Hmm…”

The old man placed a stone on the board. There was no longer any point in continuing.

“Huh? You're not playing? No backing out now, just because you're losing.”

“That won’t happen.”

The old man ordered Mun Yuhwan to bring tea and quietly looked down at the board. After the storm had passed, the go board was left a mess, with stones scattered randomly.

It looked as if two amateurs, with no idea how to play, had just thrown stones around.

‘This isn’t right.’

Neither this explosive, chaotic board nor the lazy appearance he usually gave off fit the image of the talent the old man sought.

He took a sip of tea to calm his mind.

There was still more to find out.

“You mentioned you were training in ascetic practice?”

Wi Yeonho shook his head.

“Nope.”

“But didn’t you say you came to the Confucian Forest to uphold your master’s final wishes?”

“I did.”

“…”

A twitch ran down the old man’s eye.

“And yet you say you’re not training?”

“I’m doing it because I was told to, but it’s not like I’m actually training.”

The old man gave a dry cough.

It wasn’t exactly impolite speech, but something about the way he spoke made it irritating to hold a conversation with him.

“Then... can you tell me what kind of person your master was?”

Master?

Wi Yeonho fell into thought.

How could he possibly describe Baek Muhan?

Baek Muhan might be the most difficult person to explain in the world. Not that others would fare much better, but for Wi Yeonho, it was especially hard.

After a moment of deliberation, Wi Yeonho found the most perfect word he could think of.

“A swindler.”

The old man's body jerked.

If he hadn’t been careful, he might’ve sprayed the tea in his mouth right onto Wi Yeonho’s face.

“A... swindler?”

Wi Yeonho nodded nonchalantly.

“He insists he isn’t, but no matter how you look at it, he is.”

“You’re saying your master was a swindler?”

Without hesitation, Wi Yeonho nodded.

“That’s right. Just thinking about the time I wasted under that man...”

Wi Yeonho looked like he was about to burst into tears from frustration.

The old man let out a long sigh.

If his master truly was a swindler, how could one make use of a disciple taught by such a man? And if the master wasn’t, then what use was someone who would call their own teacher a swindler?

“...Then what did you learn from your master?”

Wi Yeonho blinked and replied.

“What did I learn?”

“Well, surely you learned something, didn’t you?”

“Oh!”

Wi Yeonho nodded.

“Let’s see... How not to get hit, how to get hit less, how to hit one more time without getting hit, how I don’t get hit but you get the hell beaten out of you—that kind of stuff.”

The old man gave a hollow laugh.

‘Was he a martial artist?’

But nothing about Wi Yeonho resembled a martial artist.

Not only the elite warriors of the Royal Family, but even the greenhorns who had just entered martial academies all carried sharp eyes and strong builds.

While those at the peak of their cultivation learned to conceal such presence, it was unreasonable to expect that from someone who looked like he had just passed his coming-of-age.

The old man nodded.

“Very well. You may go now.”

Wi Yeonho glanced toward Mun Eunji to read her expression.

The old man snapped in annoyance.

“No need to continue the game. Go rest.”

Only then did Wi Yeonho flash a foolish grin and happily head out.

The old man’s deep sigh filled the room.

Mun Yuhwan looked toward the old man with a slightly troubled face.

“You don’t like him?”

“You’re really asking if I like him?”

“…”

The old man shook his head.

“What a waste of time. I can’t for the life of me understand why you rate that man so highly.”

Mun Yuhwan offered a gentle smile.

Even under the old man’s criticism, he showed no sign of discomfort.

“What you see isn’t always everything.”

“It might be worse than what you see.”

“Grand Historian, how could I doubt the eyes of someone who has seen countless men over the years? And yet, that man clearly possesses something we cannot yet see.”

The old man clicked his tongue.

“Tsk tsk, you really are...”

Thanks to Mun Yuhwan’s pleasant smile, the old man’s irritation eased somewhat.

“Why do you regard him so highly?”

“Because I saw it.”

“Saw what?”

Mun Yuhwan slowly nodded.

“During a game, there was one moment when I played a divine move. Even to me, it was an exceptionally good move.”

“Hmm…”

The old man nodded gravely. Mun Yuhwan was hailed as the Peerless Hand by the world. For him to describe a move as divine meant it truly was a masterpiece—likely one that decided the entire flow of the game in a single stroke.

“So?”

“When I felt the match had come to an end, I lifted my eyes from the board and looked across. And that’s when I saw it. The face of that man staring at the board with an expression completely different from before.”

Mun Yuhwan gazed into empty space, lost in thought.

“That face is not something easily seen. It was the face of ‘no-self’—a state rarely displayed even by those utterly immersed in writing. A person who reveals such a face while playing a mere game of Go can’t possibly be ordinary.”

But the old man remained skeptical.

“Are you sure you didn’t misread it?”

Mun Yuhwan shook his head firmly.

“There’s no way I saw it wrong.”

“Hmm.”

With a serious expression, Mun Yuhwan continued.

“Whether it’s literature or martial arts, all learning follows the same truth. Many attempt it, but very few continue without giving up. For someone so young to maintain such a pursuit—and to freely enter and exit the state of ‘no-self’—there’s no way he’s an ordinary person.”

It was a voice full of conviction.

Normally, the old man would have nodded without a word.

Mun Yuhwan’s words held truth. And for him to speak so highly of someone was extremely rare.

Yet the old man turned his head with a dissatisfied expression.

“Tch.”

The words were right—there was no denying it. But how could such words be said after seeing that mess of a person?

Mun Yuhwan’s statement was sound, but the person it described could not possibly be sound.

“In any case, I have no intention of using that man.”

“Is that so?”

Mun Yuhwan smacked his lips in regret.

The old man sighed deeply.

“What a waste of time. No... I suppose I can’t call it a waste since I got to see you again. Anyway, I’ll have to be on my way early tomorrow.”

“You’re in such a hurry?”

“I told you, didn’t I? Things aren’t looking good in the Royal Court.”

Though Mun Yuhwan was reluctant, he had no choice but to respect the old man’s decision.

Honestly speaking, he hadn’t done anything to help the Royal Family, so what could he say?

“Understood.”

The old man stared out the window with a face tinged with emptiness.

“What a shame.”

He had come seeking a talent, and had believed he might find a phoenix—only to realize it was a chicken. The sense of disappointment was immeasurable.

Bang!

“Where are you?!”

Mun Eunji stormed in, eyes blazing, frantically scanning the room.

But Wi Yeonho was nowhere to be seen. Clearly, she had not been pleased with the earlier exchange between him and the old man.

And rightfully so—he had said all kinds of nonsense while speaking with someone who was clearly a high-ranking elder.

She couldn’t act rashly in front of her father and the old man, but that didn’t apply when they were alone.

Especially when Wi Yeonho had practically embarrassed Mun Yuhwan.

“You little...!”

Bang!

The door slammed shut again.

Then, from under the bed, Wi Yeonho peeked his head out.

“Gone?”

A smug grin spread across his face.

“Knew it.”

Trusting the ominous feeling that crawled down his spine had been the right call. If he’d stayed lying on the bed without a care, things would’ve ended badly for sure.

“Seriously, what’s her problem with me?”

Wi Yeonho clicked his tongue.

What could anyone do with a woman that temperamental?

Not that he ever considered how others might feel when they looked at him.

“Anyway…”

Under the bed was cozier than expected.

It was dim and shadowy—perfect for napping in the middle of the day—and since no one could see him, it was a comfortable place to rest. The chill rising from the floor was a bit of a problem, but for Wi Yeonho, that was no issue at all.

He stretched out with a yawn and hugged the blanket close.

“At least until tomorrow…”

Wearing a contented smile, Wi Yeonho closed his eyes. Finally, he had some proper time to slack off.

Night fell.

Darkness descended upon the manor, blanketing it in deep silence. The rooms where scholars had been reading until dawn went dark one by one, and the faint sounds of reciting texts gradually faded.

At this hour—when everyone was deep in sleep, resting for the early morning lectures—some moved in secrecy.

“Everything is ready.”

Clad in black nightclothes, the men whispered to the large-bodied figure before them. The bulky man nodded and gave a brief order.

“Subdue everyone swiftly.”

“Yes, sir!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than dozens of night operatives leapt over the wall and into the manor.

The man with the massive frame smiled and began walking slowly toward the main gate.

Creeeak.

The unlocked door swung open with a loud groan.

The man silently gazed into the manor.

“You should have listened to me.”

Nok Mokpung watched the unfolding chaos within the manor with a triumphant grin.

“Who goes there?!”

“Aaaagh!”

“Robbers! We’re under attack!”

Shouts erupted from every direction.

Nok Mokpung closed his eyes and hummed a tune, as if enjoying a lovely piece of music.

“Mmm, such a sweet sound.”

A smile formed on his face—barely visible beneath the folds of flesh around his mouth.

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