Chapter 119
A very short time later, one day,
A welcome guest arrived at the Dang family estate.
As the weather grew colder, the townspeople naturally wore thicker clothes. Dang Bi, dressed in a rather warm outfit, hopped down the stairs.
“Grandpa!”
Dang Cheon-gi’s expression brightened as he saw his granddaughter running toward him.
“Bi, you’re here?”
“Did you call me?”
Bi asked in her clear, crisp voice. Her eyes sparkled at the sound of her grandfather’s long-awaited call.
Bi, who had escaped from her mnemonic arts training at Dang Cheon-gi’s summons, seemed unusually cheerful today.
“Ah?”
However, Bi only realized a moment later that Dang Cheon-gi was not alone. She startled and took a step back.
Bi looked at the man standing next to Dang Cheon-gi.
He was tall, handsome, and had exceptionally delicate hands. Considering that eight-year-old Bi’s own hands were full of calluses and scars from playing in the yard, how could an adult’s hands be so soft?
He clearly wasn’t a martial artist. But if not that, then who was he? Bi’s face showed her mild confusion as she glanced between the man and Dang Cheon-gi.
Her expression seemed to silently ask: “Who is this scholarly-looking man?”
Dang Cheon-gi chuckled.
“Introduce yourself. This person will be the one to teach you writing and painting from now on.”
At the end of Dang Cheon-gi’s words, Bi’s eyes widened.
‘He really is a scholar!’
Bi didn’t care much about how her grandfather was acquainted with such a young scholar—she was more curious about his background.
Although his face was youthful, the aura he exuded made him feel like an extremely seasoned veteran.
He wasn’t a martial artist, so he couldn’t have undergone any reverse transmigration, yet he possessed such a presence.
However, her curiosity could wait. Bi quickly bowed.
“Hello, I’m Dang Bi.”
“I’m Ju Sa-eon. I’ve been asked to teach you calligraphy and painting while I stay here briefly.”
His voice was refined for a man. Bi thought, “So it’s not just his hands that are elegant…”
“So, you’ll be my teacher?”
“I won’t be staying that long, so it’s a bit much to call me teacher. Just call me Master Ju.”
Bi looked at his pale face and thought ‘Scholar’ might be a more fitting title, but she didn’t speak it aloud.
Glancing at her grandfather, Bi cautiously asked,
“You said you’ll teach calligraphy and painting. Does that mean you are a painter?”
“No.”
“Then a musician?”
“No, that too.”
Ju Sa-eon smiled. He seemed to find the curiosity of an eight-year-old girl cute and reached toward her head absentmindedly, but quickly withdrew his hand.
“I’m just a passing guest, so there’s no need to concern yourself with my background.”
“Rest assured, I can vouch that Master Ju is a good person,” Dang Cheon-gi said, looking at his granddaughter.
“So don’t worry. Besides, he will only be teaching until you enter the Gahak school, so he won’t be staying long.”
At the end of Dang Cheon-gi’s words, Bi and Ju Sa-eon’s eyes met.
Master Ju smiled warmly.
“Take care of yourself, Bi.”
Master Ju was a curious person.
Every day, he woke up at dawn to sweep the courtyard of his quarters himself.
The household staff repeatedly told him that it wasn’t necessary for a guest to do such work, but he insisted, saying he simply enjoyed it.
Because of this, the staff managing Master Ju’s quarters often broke into a sweat.
He also conversed with her father fairly often, and they quickly became close, like old friends. He seemed naturally sociable.
However, even his remarkable sociability could not penetrate Dang Pae-jin’s defenses.
It was normal for guests to stay temporarily in a martial arts family of their stature. Separate quarters were prepared for them.
Yet Dang Pae-jin didn’t seem to like the new Master Ju and avoided him entirely after a few interactions.
Knowing that Dang Pae-jin disliked complicated or intellectual conversation, it was assumed that he ran away because he didn’t like a teacher who knew so much.
I studied calligraphy and painting under Master Ju while observing him closely.
Teaching an eight-year-old writing and painting didn’t require extraordinary skill. As a child, even basic ability was sufficient to instruct roughly. At first, I didn’t think he was exceptionally talented in these areas.
After all, he wasn’t brought in specifically to teach me, only to stay briefly and offer guidance as a favor. That’s why I assumed his skill would only be adequate for a child.
However, I was entirely mistaken. Whether from outside experience or innate talent, his painting rivaled that of a professional painter. His calligraphy was even more impressive.
His skill with gold leaf was also top-notch, and even in Go, he never lost, often playing with my grandfather or father on the pavilion.
In many ways, he was truly remarkable.
He also took teaching seriously. He taught a variety of subjects, making it hard to even discern his primary field of study.
I quietly watched Master Ju from my seat as he perused a book.
Today, since everyone else had run away to avoid studying, it was just the two of us.
He didn’t bother chasing after the children. He had a calm, unhurried nature, like flowing water or the wind.
When he looked up and our eyes met, he asked,
“Curious about something?”
“Master Ju, you’re teaching both writing and painting. Why did you say I didn’t need to call you ‘teacher’?”
We were discussing the formal lineages of the Four Great Dang families—one of the top houses of the martial world. Being a teacher to their children would have been a secure, prestigious position.
Yet Master Ju refused. He claimed he had no intention or ability to stay long enough for that kind of role.
“The answer lies in your question. Everyone who teaches is a teacher, everyone who learns is a student. There’s no need to formalize it,” he said, closing his book.
“Honestly, it’s an excuse. I don’t form deep ties with anyone.”
“But you’re teaching me writing and painting, so haven’t we already formed a bond?”
“Indeed. But some relationships, once defined, can bind you. Wouldn’t it be sad if a relationship was defined with someone you’ll never meet again?”
It sounded as if he was saying we wouldn’t meet again in the future.
“Maybe we will meet. When I grow older and go out into the world, I might meet someone who knows your story and background, Master Ju!”
“That could happen. That would be delightful.”
Yet he didn’t seem particularly happy. He seemed uncomfortable with the idea of someone knowing his past.
I stared at him and asked,
“When do you plan to leave?”
Was he saying that, no matter what I learned, he didn’t want to be bound by the formal title of teacher and student?
“When you’ve finished this book.”
“I’m very clever, so I might finish it by tomorrow!”
“Then I might leave tomorrow.”
“Does that mean I won’t see you again?”
Master Ju smiled.
“No. Everyone eventually meets again.”
“But just now you said we’d never meet again.”
He stood and stepped closer, closing the book I was studying and pointing outside the window.
From the pond, the sound of flowing water could be heard.
“Human connections are like rivers. Eventually, they reach the same current,” he said.
“If there’s someone you wish to meet, think of the river. If you believe that one day you’ll meet everyone you’ve parted from on the same riverbank, then separation won’t feel so sorrowful.”
I stared at the pond.
But still water that doesn’t flow can never reach the river.
I thought Master Ju was like that pond. That’s how he seemed after months of observation.
But I kept that thought to myself.
Meanwhile, Dang Pae-jin had been behaving quietly. Of course, he still frequently visited the Dang family tomb.
He seemed desperate to find the cornerstone of the Dokgang Era Law, which had been broken.
It wasn’t my concern. If he kept focusing on that, it left me in peace.
‘But he’ll move to find evidence to cause a stir.’
I had to watch more carefully.
The movements of the Blood Demon Sect were minimal. For the first time since my regression, peaceful and uneventful days followed.
I devoted myself to studying writing, practicing instruments, and mnemonic arts.
I didn’t practice painting much since I had no talent for it.
After all, choosing and focusing on what matters is important.
