Chapter 1638
Even beasts know gratitude. (3)
The stagnant water in the narrow alley was disturbed by indifferent footsteps.
It was a narrow alley where two grown men could barely walk side by side. A common sight anywhere, yet this place felt different. The red lanterns hanging from each shop on both sides of the alley pierced the eyes, and an acrid scent from an unknown source made one’s hair stand on end.
Moreover, the constant high-pitched laughter and desperate shouts scraping at the nerves added to the unsettling atmosphere. There was a vivid sense of dampness and malice in the air, making the place feel exceedingly dismal.
This was truly a street of debauchery – booze, women, gambling, and violence. A place frequented by those who found no thrill in ordinary life. Hence, it was more dangerous and more exhilarating than anywhere else, seducing passersby with its dense, red hue as it did every day.
Footsteps echoed, and a lone figure entered the alley.
The eyes of those sprawled out in drunken stupor turned toward him. Despite the narrowness of the alley, moths drawn by its fiery allure were never few. It was not unusual for a new face to appear.
Yet, this newcomer undeniably caught their attention. For one, his attire was strikingly out of place. Eyes, unfocused from intoxication, fixated on the clothes he wore.
A scholar’s robe – worn by those who pursued Confucian studies [유학(儒學)] or held civil office. On the main streets, it was nothing remarkable, but here, in this alley, it was an extraordinary sight.
A place like this, teeming with every human desire, was precisely what scholars, or ‘Confucian Scholars [유생(儒生) – yusaeng] as they were called, tended to avoid.
Eyes that had been wondering suddenly sharpened with interest.
Humans naturally distrust and shun those who are different from them. The appearance of someone in such alien attire was enough to disrupt the fragile order maintained in this chaotic place. Hostility began to rise from various corners.
Had the man standing at the narrow alley entrance been an ordinary scholar, he would likely have turned and fled under the weight of this emerging hostility.
Splash.
But instead of retreating, the man walked further in. Dirty water puddled around the alley splashed onto the scholar’s ankles with each indifferent step.
Threatening gazes followed him, but the scholar walked as if he noticed nothing. Or perhaps all those eyes meant nothing to him. The alley’s guards frowned, taking a closer look at him. They soon noticed details beyond the scholarly robes.
Most noticeable was that, despite the high quality of the robe, it was filthy and unkempt. The word “shabby” wouldn’t quite fit, as it implies clothing worn out from poverty and time.
The scholar’s robe was dirty, but it didn’t seem old. It was more fitting to assume that he had recently been through some ordeal, leaving him no time to tend to his appearance.
In short, his appearance sparked curiosity.
However, those who raised their gaze to his face found themselves unable to focus on his attire any longer.
If one were to judge solely by his appearance, the young man’s face was unremarkable. He had the kind of youthful visage that might be described as ordinary. It was the sort of face one might encounter on the street and then quickly forget. But his expression and eyes were far from ordinary.
It was difficult to describe his look – perhaps it could be called expressionless or devoid of emotion. ‘Cold’ didn’t quite fit either. His face showed no traces of emotion whatsoever. It was not the face of a reticent person, but rather one from whom something essential had been drained, as if he had lost something that should have never been lost.
And his eyes – though mostly dull and opaque, a sudden glint of fierce intensity occasionally flickered within them. When that happened, the seemingly out-of-place scholar appeared to blend seamlessly with the dark, oppressive atmosphere of the alley.
Step by step, the young man continued down the alley. His exhausted body swayed now and then, but he never stopped, as if walking this path was his utmost duty.
“Hey.”
One of the onlookers, with a chilling gaze, called out to him.
“What are you doing here? This isn’t a place for a greenhorn like you to wander around.”
“…”
The young scholar did not even glance at the giant man threatening him. He just kept walking. The giant’s face flushed with anger, taking the lack of response as an insult.
People who have no future often cling fiercely to their pride.
“You little bastard…!”
Just as the giant man, enraged, reached out to grab the young scholar by the shoulder, a hand suddenly emerged from behind to stop him.
“What the hell?”
The man turned to see a familiar face shaking his head.
“What is it, Brother Hong?”
“Let him go.”
“That brat?”
“Just let him go.”
Though clearly displeased, the giant man eventually nodded. When he looked back, the young scholar had already distanced himself considerably, indicating that he had never paid attention to the man’s words or actions in the first place.
“Do you know who that guy is?”
“I don’t know his name, but I know his family name.”
“What’s his family name?”
“Ho.”
“Ho [호(扈)]?”
The giant man’s expression shifted slightly.
“Then, by any chance…?”
“Yes.”
Silently observing Brother Hong, the giant man slowly nodded.
He understood why he was told to let the young man go. If his family name was indeed Ho, then he was someone not to be trifled with. At least not by anyone who still considered themselves human.
The giant man’s gaze lingered on the young scholar’s unsteady, retreating figure.
Thud.
His weary steps echoed through the narrow alley once again.
– Give up.
The young scholar’s lips twisted into a bitter smile.
– He’s not someone you can handle. You know that, don’t you?
Of course, he knew. He wasn’t foolish. There were people in this world who couldn’t be touched no matter how much effort and fury one exerted. Even if they breathed the same air and walked the same earth, the worlds they lived in were entirely different.
– No one will help you, even if they pity you. Even if they know it’s unjust.
A faint laugh escaped his lips. It was a clear expression of ridicule, though whether it was directed at the one who had spoken those words or at himself for being unable to respond, even he did not know.
– If revenge is what you seek, then continue doing what you’ve been doing. With the patience to smile through the hardships, until the day you can personally bring him to justice.
When would that be? After he dies of old age? The criminal enjoying a luxurious life till the end, while the one who has been enduring in silence is left to gnaw on the scraps of the criminal’s legacy? Is that what they call ‘revenge’? Is it?
– The world is unjust [불의(不義)]. That is why people like us exist. We must strive to correct this unjust world. We must not deny everything out of personal feelings. No matter how distant and difficult the path, those who walk it are true Confucian Scholars.
– I never thought he would enjoy his current power forever. Sins always demand their due consequences. Even if you don’t dirty your hands, he will surely fall someday.
– Isn’t it a waste to ruin everything with personal feelings? Don’t you regret the things you could achieve? You must look at the greater cause [대의(大義)], the greater cause!
Splash.
Filthy water splashed against his ankles. In the past, he would have been repulsed, but now, even the sensation of his wet ankles didn’t catch his attention.
What is dirty and what is clean?
Is the powerful man who coveted the fortune that wasn’t even that great and ruined a perfectly good family clean? Then are his family members, who met tragic ends due to the powerful man’s tyranny, dirty?
What about those who always talked about the principles of righteousness [의(義)의 도리(道理)] but remained silent in the face of obvious injustice? Are they truly clean?
A wave of nausea surged within him. What had he learned and studied?
The principles and laws [법도(法度)] he had mastered throughout his life. The systems [제도(制度)] and benevolence aimed towards the powerless that he had earnestly pondered.
Where are all those things now?
He had lived by treating empty things as sacred. If only he hadn’t, if only he had had the courage to laugh at those pretenses, he could have died along with his tragically fallen family.
When his father’s neck was severed, he discussed the principles of Confucius and Mencius.
When his sister was murdered, he recalled the words of the sages.
Who deserves judgment?
The filthy person who destroyed his family with vile greed, or himself, who laughed and chatted without even knowing of their deaths?
Confucius said.
A gentleman seeks solutions within himself, while a petty person seeks them from others. According to that saying, the one who truly deserves judgment is the scholar himself.
But he cannot die just yet.
As long as those filthy ones are alive. As long as they breathe. As long as they fill their bellies with his family’s rice and wet their lips with his family’s wine, he cannot die.
Thud.
The staggering scholar finally stopped walking.
Before him stood a large, red-painted door. Though it lacked a proper nameplate, the scholar had no doubt that this was the place he had been seeking.
Only in front of this place there were no signs of drunkards.
Neither the staggering drunk nor the fearless ruffians dared to set foot here.
Soon, the scholar knocked on the door forcefully.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Without waiting for a response, he pulled the door open. The door, unlatched, swung open wide.
Beyond the red door, it was as if another world existed – silent and with heavy atmosphere. He stepped in without hesitation.
“…Who?”
A man who had been lying drunkenly in a corner of the garden rose to his feet.
Unlike the giant figure he had seen earlier, this man was on the thinner side. Yet, the moment the scholar faced him, he instinctively felt his body tense.
Those accustomed to killing.
Yes, he had heard. This place was said to be a gathering of human butchers who killed as easily as breathing. This man, too, likely never had a day without blood on his hands.
But the scholar did not turn back. He could no longer afford to feel fear.
The right to fear had long been lost. Only one thing remained for him.
“I am…”
The scholar’s eyes filled with venom.
“Ho Gamyeong.”
“…Ho Gamyeong?”
“Take me to your master.”
The eyebrow of the person holding the saw-toothed blade [거치도(鋸齒刀)] twitched.
The scholar, Ho Gamyeong, spat out his next words with disdain.
“White Faced Demon [백안귀(白顔鬼) – baek-an-gwi]… I am here to make a deal with Jang Ilso.”
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