A Tale Of A Scribe Who Retires To The Countryside [EN]: Chapter 46

46. The Reclusive Scholar, Son Bin

Cheongwon was a small provincial city.

Guangzhou, the capital of Guangdong Province and a major logistics hub in South China, lay just south, bringing some resources to the area. Still, Cheongwon remained a typical small to medium-sized city in Jiangnan, lacking wealthy families or glamorous districts.

The town’s gossip mostly centered on rumors from Guangzhou, but Son Bin’s failure in the civil service examination and his return home had dominated conversations for days.

As a Cheongwon native who had passed the preliminary provincial exam, Son Bin was a local celebrity.

“Hoo.”

Son Bin knelt, listening to his uncle’s sigh. His uncle remained silent, then stared intently at him.

Son Bin lowered his head, avoiding the gaze.

“I know you’re having a hard time.”

The uncle spoke softly.

“But shouldn’t you pull yourself together and do something?”

The uncle’s question hung in the air, but Son Bin couldn’t answer. His hardship stemmed from more than just failing the exam.

But he didn’t feel like explaining.

“Or, are you going to prepare for the civil service exam again?”

Preparing meant committing to another three years of uncertain study.

He couldn’t afford it, and frankly, he didn’t want to.

But if he gave up, what else could Son Bin do?

“I heard there’s a small, vacant house on the outskirts, across the main road.”

Son Bin raised his head, confused. A house? What was his uncle getting at?

“It’s a bit shabby, but livable with some work. How about opening a small private school for children? As a successful candidate from the provincial exam, many will want to send their children. And the house price is very cheap compared to the market…”

The uncle continued about house prices and the growing interest in education.

However, Son Bin was lost in thought.

‘A private school…’

Realistically, Son Bin had few options. He lacked the strength for manual labor and the talent for business.

He had no connections, no wealth. He couldn’t depend on his relatives forever, not as an adult.

In the end, running a private school, as his uncle suggested, seemed like the only viable path.

“We don’t have much to spare, but we can cover the house price for now…”

“No, thank you.”

Son Bin interrupted.

The uncle frowned slightly. But Son Bin meant something different.

“I’ll pay for the house.”

“You?”

The uncle frowned again, his expression questioning, ‘What money do you have?’

“I took a small job on the way back… It wasn’t much, but it should be enough.”

As Son Bin spoke, a faint hope flickered in his heart.

“Really?”

Despite his skepticism, the uncle’s face brightened.

“How could I not know your kindness all this time?”

Son Bin bowed respectfully.

“I can’t impose any further. I can’t repay your kindness immediately, but I’ll manage from now on.”

‘At least, I’ll be alone.’

He hadn’t fully decided on the school. But the idea of solitude appealed to him.

He wouldn’t have to endure his aunt’s cold stares or his cousins’ sarcastic remarks. To them, they might be just words, but to Son Bin, they were much more.

“Good, you’ve thought it through.”

The uncle’s face brightened. He had been enduring his wife’s nagging, so he was grateful for Son Bin’s decision to become independent.

“Don’t worry about gathering students. I’ll help as much as I can. And while teaching, you can prepare for the next civil service exam, right?”

Son Bin gave a wry smile. Suggesting he could prepare while working was naive.

Even those who sacrificed sleep to study couldn’t guarantee success. How could he prepare while teaching children?

Probably no one could pass that way.

“Thank you for taking care of me all this time.”

Son Bin stood and bowed deeply. The uncle nodded, satisfied.

“Yes. I’m glad you’ve decided. Everyone faces hardship, so don’t be disheartened…”

The uncle paused, then asked,

“Um, well…”

Son Bin looked up, and the uncle hesitated.

“Do you… have something to do at night?”

“Pardon?”

Son Bin asked, surprised.

“Well… Your aunt says you often go out in the middle of the night…”

‘Ah.’

Son Bin understood.

“That’s…”

He tried to brush it off with a smile, but met his uncle’s gaze.

His eyes were filled with genuine concern.

“It’s alright.”

Son Bin said quietly.

“I’m just exercising to clear my head. It’s nothing harmful, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

The uncle said.

“If that’s the case, then it’s fine.”

Son Bin bowed again, acknowledging his uncle’s kindness. A corner of his desolate heart warmed slightly.

The house was indeed shabby.

It seemed designed for a courtyard with four buildings, but only two were finished.

The walls, meant to block the sun, were only half-built, as if abandoned mid-construction.

The courtyard was exposed. An old wooden fence offered little privacy, with no neighbors nearby.

The cheap price reflected more than just the location.

‘Good.’

But Son Bin liked it. He liked the openness and the lack of neighbors.

No one would scold him for idleness, or question his late-night sword practice.

‘It’s a bit old, though.’

Fixing the house became a surprisingly enjoyable pastime.

In the large courtyard, a slightly elevated foundation suggested a planned pavilion. Son Bin laid a bamboo mat there and read, enjoying the breeze.

Not for the civil service exam, but for pleasure.

Son Bin savored his solitude and leisure.

However, his peace was shattered within days by unexpected visitors.

“Hoo.”

Son Bin sighed, looking at the six or seven children before him, bewildered.

“So, you’ve come to learn to read?”

The children looked at him warily.

“We didn’t come to learn.”

A smart-looking boy answered bluntly.

“My mom said she’d hit me if I didn’t come!”

“I won’t get dinner!”

“I’ll get kicked out. Tsk.”

“Me too!”

The children competed to explain, creating chaos.

“I… I came because I wanted to learn…”

A shy girl said, hiding behind another.

Son Bin shook his head.

“Alright, alright. But what are those?”

He pointed to the bags they carried.

The children struggled with large bags.

“What was it? Erh-ssa… Erh-ssa-gom?”

“No, idiot. ‘Wol-sa-geum’ [monthly payment]!”

The smart girl corrected. The shy girl remained hidden.

“She said to give it to the teacher.”

The girl dropped the bag at Son Bin’s feet.

‘Ah-ha.’

Son Bin realized it was tuition, likely containing grains or food.

Soon, bags piled up before him. Several dried fish were placed on top.

“So, what do we do now?”

Son Bin looked into the bright eyes staring up at him.

‘They’re really small.’

The gathered children seemed both amazing and cute.

“Well, first…”

Son Bin looked around. The foundation with the bamboo mat was the only place for them all.

The place where he had been relaxing.

“Shall we go up there?”

The children scrambled up.

“Wow!”

“Wait! Take off your shoes!”

The foundation was high, requiring a stepping stone for adults, but the children climbed without hesitation.

Thump.

The first arrivals ran around like puppies.

A small child struggled to climb, slipping repeatedly, ignoring the stepping stone.

“Pfft.”

Son Bin laughed.

“Wow! It’s old here!”

“Look! A hole in the mat!”

“Are there bugs?”

The children explored. Some entered the house.

He had to stop them from emptying his belongings.

“Wait, you can’t go in there!”

He shouted, but they ignored him.

Son Bin climbed onto the foundation.

He helped the struggling child, then stopped another from dragging out his blanket.

The shy girl watched from a corner. Two children wrestled on the foundation.

‘Oh my god.’

Son Bin shook his head, overwhelmed.

“Wait! Stay still!”

He tried to control them.

He feared the house would collapse.

∴

“Keheing.”

Finally, after flicking a few foreheads, the chaos subsided.

The children pouted, eyes filled with tears.

‘Was I too harsh?’

He wondered, feeling guilty.

His voice softened.

“To learn, you must calm your body and mind. Understand?”

Son Bin said. The children looked at him cautiously.

Son Bin sighed.

“Don’t touch anything. If you behave, I’ll buy you sweets…”

“Really? Wow!”

The children smiled brightly. Even the tearful child smiled.

Son Bin felt foolish for his pity.

“But if you don’t behave, you’ll get flicked!”

“Yes!”

The children chirped.

‘Good grief, how did this happen…’

He felt swept up. It seemed the future would be noisy.

‘A private school…’

He needed to prepare.

He had to copy books, as buying them was expensive, and acquire brushes and inkstones, even cheap ones.

He would need paper. Cheap paper.

‘I’m going to be busy.’

Son Bin grumbled, but didn’t feel bad.

A smile appeared as he watched the chattering children.

On a bright moonlit night, Son Bin woke up as usual.

After washing and dressing, he went into the courtyard.

The house, noisy during the day, was silent.

He hadn’t noticed before, but the silence felt unusual.

‘Heh.’

Son Bin smiled.

Watching the tireless children, he wondered how they did it.

Creak.

Son Bin passed through the wooden fence. It was old and broken.

He considered removing it.

Step, step.

The moonlit road was quiet and blue. A wide field appeared.

It overlooked the Bukgang River, shimmering in the moonlight.

It was the place he had visited nightly.

“It’s a strange thing.”

Son Bin murmured, looking at the sky.

“That such a short journey leaves such a long lingering impression.”

The journey had impacted him more than his past or his exam preparations.

“Hoo-oo.”

Son Bin lowered his head and calmed his breathing, recalling the Hyeoncheon Daeganggyeol [a martial arts technique].

He let the sadness, emptiness, anxiety, and impatience fade, feeling the flow surrounding him. He felt the faint warmth of Baekro [his sword’s name] in his hand.

Swish.

The sword shone in the moonlight.

It once felt sharp, but now it felt soft.

Son Bin smiled.

“Then, shall we go?”

Woong.

As if answering, Baekro trembled faintly.

‘Huh?’

The vibration was so faint, he wondered if he imagined it.

Son Bin waited, but felt nothing.

Swoosh.

Son Bin raised his sword.