A Tale Of A Scribe Who Retires To The Countryside [EN]: Chapter 11

11. The Wolf Cannot Ascend to Heaven

‘Why, why are they doing this?’

Son Bin wondered, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. No matter how hard he pondered, he couldn’t fathom why they were suddenly paying so much attention to him.

‘Should I… should I raise my hand or something?’

Just as Son Bin, unable to endure the awkward tension any longer, was about to raise his hand, thinking a simple greeting might ease the situation,

A beauty with a chilling gaze turned to Lionheart and inquired,

“What does that mean?”

The words Lionheart had just spoken were reminiscent of the reply a virtuous official would give to someone offering a bribe, suggesting that such acts are never truly secret.

It implied that nothing is hidden in this world and that one should live without shame before heaven. But what relevance did that have to their current predicament?

“What is that supposed to…”

The beauty frowned, but Lionheart continued, undeterred.

“He knows, and he has written it down, so now even a commoner will know, and those of high renown will also know. Moreover, even after death, the record persists, so future generations will know, people hundreds of years from now will also know.”

Lionheart declared.

“That I accepted your offer and became the greatest under heaven.”

The intensity in Lionheart’s eyes was palpable.

“Records belong to the victor,” the beauty countered.

“History belongs to the victor. I can assure you that no one will ever know about this. The records will be destroyed, the books burned, and anyone with knowledge of this will be buried, regardless of their status.”

Her eyes mirrored his intensity.

“If you accept my offer, history will record you, sir, as the absolute, unparalleled greatest under heaven, an absolute being who bows to no one.”

“Indeed,” Lionheart said in a low voice.

“You remind me of someone I dislike.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the woman replied, though her eyes betrayed a firm resolve not to yield. She had effectively countered the three reasons Lionheart had presented for his refusal. Now, the onus was on Lionheart to respond.

“Do you know wolves?”

At Lionheart’s question, she nodded slightly.

“Wolves roam the mountains as they please. They hunt prey without fear and give birth to their young as they see fit. A pack of wolves fears nothing,” Lionheart explained.

“But no matter how much the wolves howl at the moon, they cannot ascend to heaven. Do you understand? If you are a wolf, play with wolves. Run through the world as you please, hunt prey, and live that way. But do not dare to imagine that you can ascend to heaven.”

Lionheart’s gaze was icy.

“No matter how much you call yourself the king of wolves, to me, you are merely a beast crawling on the ground.”

The cold-looking beauty bit her lip slightly. Lionheart’s words were not only a firm rejection but also a profound insult.

“Hoo.”

After a moment of silence, she let out a soft sigh.

“Very well. We’ll withdraw for today,” she said in a composed voice.

“But my offer remains valid. And there are surprisingly many ways to influence people.”

She added, her gaze turning coldly resolute. Her already frigid expression seemed to freeze over.

“Even if it means moving mountains and shifting rivers.”

Lionheart countered, his eyes equally cold.

“People do not change.”

The beauty remained silent, offering only a quiet, slight bow before turning away.

Rustle.

Following behind her were Hang Ah and Soha. Wi Gajin clasped his hands together and bowed respectfully to Lionheart before also following the beauty.

Thud, thud.

Once they had put some distance between themselves and Lionheart, the beauty spoke in a low voice without turning her head.

“Soha.”

“Yes.”

“Find out everything about the name Lionheart. Everything related to him, no matter how insignificant.”

“That won’t be easy, will it?”

Soha said with a wry smile.

“The fact that such a martial artist is not yet known is quite unusual in itself.”

“Yes. Very unusual. But if Soha wants to know, there’s nothing in the world you can’t uncover, right?”

“Of course,” Soha replied with a grin.

“Let’s stir things up a bit. Oh, and we shouldn’t forget about that scholar either, should we?”

“Of course.”

It was a given. Nodding, the beauty suddenly thought of the young man dressed as a scholar.

“Hang Ah.”

“Yes.”

“What kind of person was that scholar?”

“I examined him closely, but there was nothing particularly special about him. However, they exchanged something discreetly immediately after the duel began.”

“Immediately after the duel began?”

“Yes.”

The beauty frowned slightly.

Lionheart is a martial artist with a strong sense of pride. It’s difficult to understand why such a martial artist would secretly exchange words after a duel has already commenced, unless there was a compelling reason.

‘The third reason was that scholar.’

Lionheart gave three reasons for his refusal: that he didn’t need the title of greatest under heaven, which was only a relative comparison; that he wouldn’t be subservient to anyone; and that he was recording the events.

She countered that the title of greatest under heaven she offered was absolutely unique and a position where he would not have to bow to anyone, and that records could be erased at any time.

Nevertheless, Lionheart refused, even with a clear insult included.

After a moment of contemplation, Hang Ah asked quietly,

“Shall we put a tail on them?”

After thinking for a moment, the beauty shook her head.

“No. There’s no need, and we probably couldn’t anyway.”

Lionheart had seen through Hang Ah’s concealment from the start. Considering the level he had displayed, a clumsy tail would only provoke his vigilance [heightened awareness].

“However, make sure to keep track of their movements.”

“Understood.”

Hang Ah bowed her head to acknowledge the order.

“Milady.”

The voice belonged to Wi Gajin. The beauty stopped walking and turned her head.

“Why?”

“Does it have to be him?”

The beauty’s eyes flashed sharply.

“What are you trying to say?”

After a moment of silence, Wi Gajin spoke.

“He is unlike anyone I have ever met. He is…”

“Yes. That’s right,” the beauty interjected, cutting Wi Gajin off.

“He is unlike anyone else. He’s not a clumsy idealist, nor is he a crude martial supremacist who blindly pursues power. He doesn’t try to ingratiate himself with those in power, and he’s different from those shallow people who chase after immediate gains or empty fame.”

A faint sneer touched her lips.

“He is different. He possesses a haughty ideal that looks down on the world and a natural charisma that instantly captivates people’s hearts, enough to make you his ally with just one duel.”

Wi Gajin offered a wry smile, acknowledging the truth in her words. It wasn’t just Wi Gajin’s sword that Lionheart had subdued.

“But more than all that, he possesses absolute power. Overwhelming and destructive, literally absolute power.”

Her gaze was no longer fixed on Wi Gajin. Her intensely shining eyes were now focused on something beyond the visible.

“The moment I saw his Breaking Moon, Swallowing Sun, I was certain that this is the man who can stand at the pinnacle of the martial arts world.”

She fell silent. After a while, her eyes returned to Wi Gajin.

“That’s why I need him. He’s the only person who can establish an absolute, unwavering authority in this martial world, where all kinds of individuals and countless powerhouses are rampant. He is that person, and this decision will never change.”

Wi Gajin could offer no argument, as he agreed with every word she spoke.

A clear fact that was evident even from a single duel with him.

“But who are you saying this for? Me, or him?”

Her eyes were so sharp that they seemed to penetrate Wi Gajin’s very soul.

Thud.

Wi Gajin immediately knelt on one knee.

“Wi Gajin, having been swayed by presumptuous thoughts, will accept the punishment from the lord.”

The moment he witnessed Breaking Moon, Swallowing Sun, Wi Gajin was also convinced that Lionheart was not someone who would be manipulated according to others’ wishes, that he existed like the moon drifting above the clouds.

Thus, he didn’t want her to interfere with Lionheart. It was loyal advice for her, but perhaps it was also for Lionheart, the only true powerhouse and martial artist he had encountered in the martial world.

“Get up,” she said to Wi Gajin, her expression cold.

“But there won’t be a second time.”

She turned and quietly resumed her steps. Hang Ah and Soha followed, but Wi Gajin remained kneeling, unable to rise easily.

***

The surroundings were eerily quiet, making it hard to believe that this was the site of the recent duel. Lionheart stood, gazing in the direction where the beauty and her party had disappeared.

“Looks like I stirred up something troublesome,” Lionheart muttered with a frown. But that was all; he turned his head.

“Is it over now?”

Son Bin, who had approached unnoticed, asked.

“Yes. For now,” Lionheart nodded.

“That lady didn’t seem like an ordinary person. Are you going to be okay?”

She is no ordinary person. She didn’t back down from Lionheart’s words, not even after witnessing that incredible duel.

Moreover, she remained calm and composed even after being insulted. Such composure is impossible for someone lacking in deep scheming [careful planning]. A person like that is more frightening in the aftermath.

“I’m fine,” Lionheart said.

“How can a beast crawling on the ground do anything to me? However, you might get a little annoyed…”

Lionheart said, looking down at Son Bin.

“You’ll be fine in a different sense, so there’s no need to worry.”

‘A different sense?’

He frowned slightly, but Lionheart offered no further explanation.

“Let’s go,” Lionheart raised his head and began to walk.

“Ah, over there…”

Son Bin tried to call out to Lionheart, as he had many questions he wanted to ask: about the duel where blue sword energy and *dogi* [sword energy] were rampant, the *dobeop* [sword art] called Breaking Moon, Swallowing Sun, the young martial artist Wi Gajin, and the beauty of unknown identity.

However, Lionheart silently continued walking without a word.

Thud, thud.

From his back, Son Bin knew that Lionheart would not answer any more questions.

“Hoo.”

Son Bin closed the notebook he had opened and wrapped the brush in coarse cotton cloth. He then closed the mouth of the small gourd containing ink.

Click.

Son Bin’s first encounter with Lionheart ended just like that.

***

The next day at dawn, Son Bin opened his eyes in his room. Though some twilight lingered outside the window, it was bright enough to see clearly. Son Bin got out of bed and fully opened the window.

Click.

Feeling the cool air unique to dawn flowing in, Son Bin slowly took a deep breath.

“Hoo.”

The cold air filled his chest. Son Bin slowly exhaled. The familiar dawn air banished the last vestiges of sleepiness. After carefully washing his face, Son Bin neatly arranged his clothes and sat at the table to open a book.

Rustle.

Getting up at dawn and reading the scriptures was Son Bin’s daily routine for over a decade.

After failing the *hoesi* [civil service examination], he had stopped for a while, and he had skipped it for a few days thanks to Lionheart waking him up in the middle of the night.

But as he grew accustomed to his changed life, his old habits naturally resurfaced, and he woke up at the appointed time at dawn.

Although he failed, participating in the *hoesi* meant that he had passed the *hyangsi* [preliminary regional examination] and obtained the qualification of *geoin* [recommended man]. To do so, one must be proficient not only in numerous scriptures and their annotations and various history books but also in literature and poetry.

The number of characters in the scriptures that must be memorized alone is about 430,000, making it an exam that one cannot even approach without reading from dawn until late at night.

Therefore, it is no exaggeration to describe the feeling of failing as ‘deeper than being cut with a knife’.

Son Bin felt the same way, and that habit of more than ten years still woke him up and compelled him to open a book.

Rustle.

“Hoo.”

Son Bin, after turning a few pages, suddenly let out a soft sigh. The old, worn-out book was sickeningly familiar, but he had no choice but to open it again.

‘The next *hoesi* will be held in three years…’

He felt conflicted about having to spend another three years preparing for the exam without any guarantee. Son Bin closed the book.

Clack.

Son Bin closed the book and pondered various thoughts, but the more he thought, the more confused he became, and the longer his sighs grew.

“Haa.”

Son Bin got up from the table and looked out the window.

As he gazed at the slowly brightening dawn, the duel from yesterday naturally came to mind. Those dreamlike moments when blue sword energy and *dogi* intertwined in all directions, as if from another world, felt like a dream.

‘But, in the end, it’s a world that has nothing to do with me.’

Wi Gajin and Lionheart, and that beauty with an unknown cold impression and the other two people, were from a completely different world than Son Bin.

‘Should I quit now and go back to my hometown?’

Seeing such great people made him more aware of his own situation. After a moment of internal conflict, Son Bin sighed again. Then, he was surprised to realize that he had been sighing all morning.

“Stop it; such futile thoughts only consume *simnyeok* [mental energy]…”

Wasting worries only makes the heart suffer. Son Bin put the book on the table into his luggage as if to rid himself of distractions [잡념].

‘Ah, come to think of it, the ink for *mukho* [inkstone] was almost out yesterday.’

He had been writing so diligently that the ink he had put in a small ceramic bottle to use as *mukho* was nearly empty. Son Bin took out *muk* [ink stick] and an inkstone from his luggage and prepared to grind ink.

A proper inkstone was expensive, so Son Bin’s was cheap. However, the *muk* was quite good.

Thanks to his diligence in cleaning the inkstone, even a cheap one was quite usable. Son Bin dropped a little water on the inkstone and began to grind the *muk*.

Rub rub.

Grinding *muk* is not something to be done carelessly. There is a saying that ‘when grinding *muk*, be like a sick person, and when holding a brush, be like a merchant’. You must never apply force but maintain a natural posture, drawing circles slowly and persistently, moving your entire arm to obtain proper *muk*.

Son Bin straightened his posture and slowly moved his arm as if to release the distractions in his mind. With his movements, the transparent water gradually transformed into a dark black *muk* with a glossy sheen.

As he repeated the monotonous movement of pouring a little more water and grinding the *muk*, Lionheart’s words came to mind without him realizing it.

‘Deeply, slowly, but constantly, as if riding the flow…’

Son Bin unconsciously repeated Lionheart’s words in his mind. How long had he been doing that? Suddenly realizing it, the unique rustling feeling felt when grinding *muk* on the inkstone felt unusually heavy.

‘Was the secret of *Hyeontan* [a martial arts technique] used for grinding *muk*?’

Pfft.

Son Bin laughed in disbelief, even after thinking about it himself. That couldn’t be.

‘It’s just that the secret is ambiguous, so it feels like it can be applied to anything and still make sense.’

Muttering to himself, Son Bin ground the *muk* and filled it into a small gourd. He then took out the old notebook that contained the record of yesterday’s duel. Because he had accumulated quite a few records now, he needed to organize them.

Rustle.

Son Bin took out the old notebook filled with small, detailed handwriting and slowly began to reread it.

Before he knew it, the outside of the window was bright, and the morning birdsong began to be heard, but Son Bin, immersed in the record, remained oblivious.