When the assistant official said something to the official, the official’s face turned baffled.
What’s going on?
I tilted my head.
Maybe the topic the Emperor had given was too unexpected, because Chu Il-gong’s face had gone completely pale.
Then, with a vacant look in his eyes, he scribbled something down…
Just as I was about to focus my Qi in my ears, Escort Guard Seo Wu beside me spoke up.
“Something seems… off about the poem Poet Chu Il-gong submitted.”
“Huh?”
“That assistant official just said, ‘Are you really going to submit this as is? His Majesty the Emperor will probably thunder down in wrath.’”
Since he had focused his Qi into all five senses to guard me, he must have picked up that conversation.
The Emperor must have sensed something was wrong as well, because he spoke to the official.
“Is there some kind of problem?”
“Y-Your Majesty, that is…”
“So it’s that poem that’s the issue. I’ll take a look first.”
At that, the eunuch standing at the side hurried over, took the paper with the poem from the official, and presented it to the Emperor.
“Hmm. ‘Following this father’s will is the beginning of filial piety…’ Whose poem is this?”
In response to the Emperor’s question, the assistant official answered.
“That one was written by Poet Song Rok.”
“Is that so?”
The Emperor covered that sheet with a satisfied look, then opened another paper.
This one was the poem written by Chu Il-gong.
“…”
The Emperor stared at it for a long moment, then his expression turned incredulous.
And then…
“Poet Chu.”
“Y-Yes? Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Are you trying to make a fool out of me right now?”
“N-no, Your Majesty, never!”
“Then what in the world is this poem supposed to be?”
At those words, Chu Il-gong panicked and hurriedly prostrated himself.
“Y-your humble subject never had such intentions.”
The Emperor handed the paper with the poem to the eunuch and said,
“Read it aloud.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The eunuch unfolded the paper and began to read.
“‘What’s with this “Yu Gong Moves the Mountains” or whatever, why give such a ridiculous topic? That guy’s poem doesn’t have anything like tha…’”
Everyone, myself included, froze at the content.
He should have just submitted a blank page…
Is he insane? Even if he really didn’t sleep a wink last night, how could he write something like that?
“And you still say you weren’t trying to make a fool out of me?”
“Y-your humble subject has committed a capital crime!”
“I’ll give you one more chance. Rewrite it properly and submit it.”
And just like that, Chu Il-gong was granted another chance. Not that a second chance was going to magically fix anything…
His hand trembled as he grabbed the brush.
Would we finally get to see Chu Il-gong’s real skill this time?
At the same time, another question came to mind.
Just how little confidence did he have in his own poetry that he felt the need to steal other people’s work?
Soon he finished writing and handed the poem up, and the eunuch received it.
“Read it.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The eunuch began to read the new poem.
Wow… he really is terrible.
Now I understand why he stole poems.
At least he had a very clear, objective view of his own ability.
Around us, the spectators began to murmur.
“That poem just now is completely different from the Graceful Verse Wanderer’s usual style.”
“Why is that?”
The Emperor quietly watched Chu Il-gong for a moment, then ordered the eunuch,
“Bring me all the poems Poet Chu has written so far.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The eunuch headed over to the judging area and carefully picked out only the poems written by Chu Il-gong from the pile.
“Read the first poem he wrote.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The eunuch read the poem aloud.
“‘The colder the wind, the more joy the snow contains. Standing with my back to the wind…’”
Once the eunuch finished reading, the Emperor turned his head toward Chu Il-gong.
“This poem uses wind and snow as its theme. Explain this poem.”
“T-this, this poem is, um…”
“…”
“T-that is, the wind is blowing, so it’s cold, but the snow… the snow is falling, so seeing that…”
Chu Il-gong stammered and babbled, going in circles.
Naturally.
In poetry, each phrase carries multiple layers of meaning.
If it isn’t a poem you wrote yourself, how could you possibly understand its meaning properly?
At that moment, my eyes met Song Rok’s.
I smiled, gave him a small nod, and sent him a Voice Transmission.
— This is your chance to clear your name.
He flinched at my Voice Transmission, but soon gave a slight nod.
Then he bowed before the Emperor and spoke.
“Merciful Your Majesty the Emperor! I humbly beg leave to speak and explain that poem.”
“You?”
The Emperor tilted his head at Poet Song Rok, then granted permission.
“Very well, explain it.”
“Your grace is boundless, Your Majesty! That poem is something I wrote while recalling my childhood, when I used to play in the snow. I tried to capture the feelings of looking at snow through a child’s eyes…”
Poet Song Rok went on and on, explaining the poem without a single hitch.
At this point, anyone could tell something was off.
“I see. But this poem is credited to Poet Chu. How is it that you know it so well?”
“With utmost respect, Your Majesty, that is not so.”
“Not so?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. That poem… is one I wrote.”
“What?”
The Emperor pointed to the section where the name was written, folded over five times.
“It clearly says Poet Chu Il-gong’s name here. So how is it that you claim to have written it?”
“That is because…”
Just then, Chu Il-gong hurriedly cut in.
“Y-Your Majesty the Emperor! This man is a fraud. He admired my poem and produced a copy of it, and—”
I clicked my tongue at Chu Il-gong’s words.
There wasn’t a single person here who would believe him now, and somehow he was the only one who didn’t seem to realize that.
“Poet Chu Il-gong.”
“Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Shut your mouth. Before I have that tongue of yours cut out.”
“H-hik!”
At the Emperor’s words, Chu Il-gong shrank back. The Emperor then turned to Poet Song Rok.
“Go on. Explain.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Song Rok took a slow, deep breath and began to explain what had happened to him.
“…And when I had given up on everything and was about to take my own life, Deputy Merchant Lord Eun Seo-ho saved me. He also gave me this chance to clear my injustice.”
A murmur rippled through the surroundings at those words.
“Deputy Merchant Lord Eun Seo-ho… isn’t that the Handsome Young Hero?”
“So it really was the Handsome Young Hero!”
I could feel my face burn.
Come to think of it, I forgot to tell Poet Song Rok not to mention me.
But I couldn’t exactly make a face like I’d just bitten into rotten radish here, so trying to keep my expression neutral made both my cheeks twitch.
Damn it.
Just how hard is the Emperor laughing on the inside?
But the Emperor was, as always, the Emperor. He kept a solemn expression and called out to Chu Il-gong.
“Chu Il-gong.”
“Y-Yes? Yes, Your Majesty.”
He doesn’t even bother calling him Poet Chu Il-gong anymore.
“Is Poet Song Rok’s statement true?”
“T-that is…”
“A simple investigation will uncover everything. You’re struggling for nothing.”
At those words, Chu Il-gong finally slammed his head to the floor.
“Please, have me executed!”
He had realized that dragging this out any longer would only deepen the Emperor’s anger.
And as the Emperor had said, even if he denied it, an investigation would reveal everything.
From where I stood, it was obvious he had some additional crimes on his conscience. That was the only reason he was admitting guilt so readily.
Anyway, just as I had planned, Chu Il-gong’s shameless crimes were dragged into the light for everyone to see.
“Deceiving the judges by claiming another man’s poem as your own and making a mockery of me is no trivial crime. Imperial Guard, hear my command!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
“Throw him into prison! As for his punishment, I’ll decide after the competition is over.”
And so, Chu Il-gong was dragged off to the dungeon by the Imperial Guard.
Ahh, that’s satisfying.
.
.
.
The competition ended.
As I’d expected, Poet Song Rok took the final victory.
And those who had faced Chu Il-gong and been eliminated received consolation money.
Of course, with Chu Il-gong’s money.
And as for me…
“His Majesty the Emperor wishes to see you.”
I had to go pay my respects to the Emperor right away.
A short while later, I stood before the Emperor and offered the proper salute.
“I greet Your Majesty the Emperor. Ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand years!”
“Raise your head.”
“Your grace is immeasurable, Your Majesty.”
When I lifted my head, the Emperor let out a small chuckle.
“So, how does it feel to be a hero who saved a tragic poet’s life and helped him take revenge?”
“Who wouldn’t enjoy being hailed as a hero, Your Majesty?”
“Really? You didn’t look all that pleased earlier.”
“That was… because I was trying to keep myself in check.”
I continued.
“I am no hero, Your Majesty. But the whole world keeps praising me as one, and I was afraid I might start believing it myself.”
“You’re a strange one. But entertaining, too.”
That’s… a compliment, right?
“Anyway, that brat Chu Il-gong was the real target of this poetry competition, wasn’t he?”
I didn’t deny it.
“Thanks to the wisdom and grace of Your Majesty the Emperor, justice has been properly upheld. How could that be anything but a good thing?”
“You little brat, you sure know how to talk.”
The Emperor grumbled like that.
“I’ve ordered full confiscation of his assets and sentenced him to forced labor.”
Just as I had advised before, His Majesty the Emperor was actively putting forced labor sentences to use.
“After he works in the salt fields for a while, he’ll have plenty of time to reflect on his sins.”
Since the Salt Distribution Law, the imperial family had kept a tight grip on everything related to salt.
And the manpower for that came from convicts on forced labor.
Producing salt was extremely hard work.
Considering he’d gone around hurting people and then metaphorically sprinkling salt all over their wounds, I thought it was a fitting punishment.
And with that, the nasty entanglement that had made Internal Chief Administrator Yu So-ak’s life difficult finally came to an end.
“Anyway, thanks to you, I discovered quite a usable talent.”
“I’m simply glad I could bring some enjoyment to Your Majesty the Emperor.”
Even as I said that, I worried on the inside.
Surely he doesn’t mean Poet Song Rok, right?
I put in so much work on him. If His Majesty just snatched him away, that’d be a complete betrayal of business ethics…
“Ah, don’t worry. I don’t mean Poet Song Rok.”
“…You don’t, Your Majesty?”
“First of all, he’s not suited to practical government work. Second, I’m not the kind of lord who steals the reward a vassal has worked hard to prepare.”
Pretty sure the first part was the real reason.
With that, I finished the audience and left the imperial palace.
“You’re out, sir?”
“Yeah.”
Palgap, who had been waiting in front of the palace, came hurrying over.
“And Poet Song Rok?”
“He’s attending the celebration banquet right now.”
“Security?”
“Escort Guard Yeo Eung-am went with him, sir.”
Today’s celebration banquet was officialed by the Sebin Merchant Group and our own, the Eunhae Merchant Group, who had sponsored this competition.
The guests were the competition judges, those who had helped prepare the event, and eight poets including the winner.
With the Grand Elder of the Zhuge Family also present, there shouldn’t be any danger, but just in case, I’d asked who was accompanying him as protection.
“He said it was at Hong Eun Pavilion, right? Let’s go.”
It would be rude for the official of the banquet not to show their face.
A short while later, I arrived at Hong Eun Pavilion.
I went around greeting everyone who had come, one by one, and as time passed, the mood grew more and more lively.
I turned my head toward the pavilion railing. Poet Song Rok was standing there, looking out at the night.
I walked over to him.
“Getting some air?”
“Ah, yes.”
He nodded.
“Standing by the brazier, it felt like the alcohol was hitting me even harder.”
“So, how do you feel?”
“Pardon?”
“Today, you took back the Graceful Verse Wanderer name that was stolen from you, didn’t you?”
“Ah…”
Song Rok’s face lit up in a bright smile as he nodded.
“It feels wonderful.”
“Chu Il-gong’s punishment has been decided. His family’s assets will be confiscated, and Chu Il-gong himself will be sent to do forced labor at the salt fields.”
“…Is that so?”
But his expression didn’t look as happy as I’d expected.
“You’re not pleased? That man finally got what he deserved.”
“To be honest… not entirely. I keep thinking about what his family will have to go through.”
Now that his revenge was done, it seemed a tinge of regret had settled in.
“Don’t worry too much. They all lived well off Chu Il-gong. If his relatives have even half their wits about them, they’ll already have a way to keep themselves fed.”
They confiscated Chu Il-gong’s property, not the assets of his children who had already split off.
“I’m being ridiculous, thinking this way.”
“Thinking like that just means you’re a good person. That’s not a bad thing.”
I smiled.
“Anyway, you haven’t forgotten our agreement, have you?”
“Of course not.”
“We’ll be leaving soon, so get your things ready.”
“Understood.”
This time, Poet Song Rok and his family would be traveling with us.
I turned my head and looked at the poets enjoying the banquet.
Some of them would soon receive imperial appointments from His Majesty the Emperor.
So why did they all look just a little pitiful to me?
Of course, I had separate plans in mind for Poet Song Rok.
When you’re running a merchant group, you often have to coax your trading partners along gently.
And the people you trade with aren’t limited to merchants.
Sometimes they’re local gentry, sometimes even members of the imperial clan. Most of those people loved poetry.
So if I take Poet Song Rok, the champion of this competition, have him compose a few poems here and there, the atmosphere will naturally soften.
And that’s when you swoop in to close the deal.
I pictured my flawless plan in my head and grinned.
Then, as someone familiar walked up from within the restaurant, I couldn’t help but flinch.
W-wait, Your Majesty the Emperor.
You never said you were coming here, did you?
–TL Notes–
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