A Tale Of A Scribe Who Retires To The Countryside

The Homun Inn was a small, shabby establishment located at the foot of Mount Homun. It was not situated near any major road or near any renowned cities or scenic spots, making it a quiet place most of the time. The only guests who frequented the inn were the occasional passing merchants and penniless wanderers. After a storm several years ago knocked down its signboard, it was unclear whether the place was originally called Homun Inn or if it was just named that way because of its location at the foot of Mount Homun.

Wangpal Noya, the owner and cook of the inn, looked at the inside of his inn with a frown on his face. Although the narrow inn was almost empty, it was not the lack of guests that bothered him.

What irked him was one particular drunken guest.

"When the water of the river is murky, even if you try to wash your feet... it's useless," the young man slurred. Dressed in shabby scholar attire and carrying an old tattered knapsack, he was clearly a failed exam candidate. The heavily intoxicated scholar was swinging his arms in the air, mumbling to an empty wall.

"Of all places, even in the state's examination for selecting officials... how could such a thing happen? Giving favors to relatives of high-ranking officials, to wealthy merchant's children... No wonder people say the world is rotten. It's not just murky water, it's rotten, filthy water!" he exclaimed before gulping down another cup of alcohol.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, slamming the cup down on the table. Several empty bottles were already strewn about, but not so many that it was excessive. Wangpal Noya clicked his tongue as he watched.

"Ugh, he should just sleep quietly if he's drunk," Wangpal Noya grumbled under his breath.

'Drunk off of just a few cheap bottles... If he'd ordered more, maybe I'd be more understanding.'

"Injustice! Injustice!" the scholar suddenly shouted.

"The world is full of injustice! Everything is wrong! Dammit!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the table.

'Don't you dare break that! If you do, I'll make you pay handsomely for the damage...' Wangpal Noya glared at the scholar, but the drunken man didn't even notice him.

Wangpal Noya then subtly shifted his gaze to another guest, quickly stealing a glance at him.

There sat another man, silently sipping his drink alone.

'Is he... okay with this?' Wangpal Noya nervously wondered, watching the other man's reaction.

Dressed in light martial arts attire, the middle-aged man with a solid build looked deceptively youthful, despite his slightly visible gray hair. His thick arms seemed strong enough to take down even the tigers of Mount Homun, but it was the large sword strapped to his back that made it clear he was a martial artist. And not just any martial artist, but one who could kill without a second thought. Even now, as he quietly stared at his drink, his deep, intense gaze was almost eerie.

"Oh my, look at that bicep. A guy like that could probably knock someone out with just one punch."

The cup in the man's hand seemed unusually small. He ordered a simple meal, and his drink was just a small bottle of alcohol.

Contrary to his first impression, the man remained quiet and reserved. But it was clear that crossing him would lead to trouble, as evidenced by the ominous black greatsword strapped to his back.

"If I foolishly annoy him and start a fight, it would be a disaster..."

Wangpal Noya nervously fretted. It was a common occurrence for a drinking session to end up in a quarrel. However, if a fight led to death and the destruction of the guesthouse, it would be a major headache for Wangpal Noya. And right now, that terrifying situation seemed to be teetering on the brink of reality.

"The whole world is drunk, and I'm the only one sober!"

"Yikes!"

Wangpal Noya was startled by the sudden outburst from the scholar.

"Why on earth is that fellow acting like that?"

Wangpal Noya glared at the scholar who seemed to be hastening his own demise with his oblivious behavior. He couldn't help but despise the scholar, who was getting drunk without any awareness of the tense atmosphere. Regardless of Wangpal Noya's glaring, the scholar continued to mumble to himself before letting out a long, weary sigh.

"Sigh..."

"Great, the guesthouse is going to collapse."

Wangpal Noya muttered to himself, trying to calm his startled heart. Unaware of Wangpal Noya's feelings, the scholar kept grumbling.

"What? Are you saying that if I keep talking nonsense, I'll get beaten up? Is that what an official should say? Sticking to the strong and bending justice is an official's duty? Damn this rotten world. Damn, damn."

Muttering almost unintelligibly, the scholar took another sip of his drink.

"Ugh."

With a thud, the scholar emptied his cup and lowered his head, accompanied by a deep sigh. He then muttered, as if speaking to a spirit.

"This damned world. If no one knows, it's as if it never happened. If no one knows, it never happened."

Thump.

Although it was a small sound, it was enough to make Wangpal Noya's heart drop. That's because it was the sound of the imposing middle-aged martial artist rising from his seat.

"Oh dear, the trouble is finally starting."

As Wangpal Noya made a gloomy face, calculating the potential damage and corresponding countermeasures in his head, the sturdy martial artist slowly approached the scholar.

"If no one knows, it's as if it never happened, huh?"

The middle-aged martial artist spoke to the scholar in a deep, resounding voice.

The scholar, who had been looking down, raised his head and gazed at the martial artist with bleary eyes. It seemed that his intoxicated vision made it difficult for him to grasp the situation.

"Who...?"

The martial artist chuckled. He then looked down at the scholar and said:

"Let's have a little chat. But before that..."

As his large hand slowly approached the scholar's head, Wangpal Noya momentarily forgot his calculations and stared intently at the scene. He wondered if the martial artist would really kill the scholar with a single punch, but unfortunately, that situation didn't unfold as Wangpal Noya had hoped.

"First, you need to sober up a bit."

The middle-aged martial artist grabbed the collar near the back of the scholar's neck with his large hand. He then effortlessly lifted the scholar, as if handling a stone.

"Uh? Uh?"

The scholar, suspended in the air, looked bewildered, unable to understand what was happening to him.

Lifting the scholar with ease as if handling a puppy or a child, the martial artist strode out of the guesthouse with the scholar still in his grasp.

Ting-a-ling.

The sound of the old bell signaled their departure from the guesthouse. Wangpal Noya, who had been crouching with his head down, fearing some trouble might come his way, couldn't help but watch the scene with his mouth agape.

However, he soon made a gloomy face as he faced the reality of the potential damage.

"Damn, who's going to pay the bill when they're all gone?"

In a very small voice, Wangpal Noya grumbled sorrowfully.

"Aaargh!"

The scholar screamed with all his might, but his scream was drowned out by the wind, making it inaudible. They were passing through a pitch-black mountainous area at an incredible speed.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

The sound of the wind, like a waterfall, hit his face so hard that he couldn't maintain a proper expression. Occasionally, he saw the shadows of trees passing by with sharp, swooshing sounds, and the dizzyingly spinning moon and stars in the night sky.

"St-stop! Stop it!"

The scholar shouted with all his strength.

"Have you come to your senses now?"

Despite the roaring wind, that voice came through loud and clear. It was as if the voice was speaking directly into his head.

"I-I can hear! I can! So now, please, st-stop!"

Suddenly, the deafening sound of the wind vanished, and their bodies stopped moving at the tremendous speed. However, his vision was still spinning.

Swoosh.

It seemed like they were getting closer to the ground, and the cold blades of grass embraced the scholar's body.

"Ah, ouch..."

The scholar propped himself up on his hands and knees. His head was still spinning, but he felt a deep sense of relief that he was no longer being shaken.

"It's good that you've come to your senses."

A heavy voice came from above his head. The scholar looked up. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but the white teeth between the smiling man's lips were clearly visible.

"If you hadn't, I would've thrown you over there."

Following the man's gaze, the scholar turned his head and shuddered at the sight before him.

"Gasp."

It was no wonder the scholar gasped. The two of them were standing on top of a tall waterfall, with a deep, dark pool at the bottom of the cliff right before their eyes. It was terrifying just to look at it.

"What is going on? Why..."

The scholar reflexively questioned but then closed his mouth, realizing for the first time that the man standing before him was no ordinary person.

The man, with his arms crossed, looked down at the scholar, grinning. His arms were so thick that it seemed impressive for them to be crossed.

Gulp.

Unconsciously swallowing, the scholar thought:

'I would be knocked out with just one punch.'

The scholar's admiration of the man's arms was not much different from Wangpal Noya's back at the guesthouse. Of course, neither of them knew that.

With the powerful sound of the waterfall in the background, the scholar washed his face by the dimly lit water's edge. His hair was a mess from the wind, but his face was a mix of sweat, tears, and snot.

"Phew."

After rinsing his face lightly and running his fingers through his hair, the scholar straightened his clothes. Having washed his face and tidied himself, it seemed as if the drunkenness had subsided and his senses returned.

The scholar turned to look at the man. The middle-aged man, who gave off the impression of a massive rock, was staring at the scholar with gleaming eyes. Even if it weren't for the martial arts uniform he wore or the large sword on his back, one could roughly guess the man's identity.

"Ahem."

The scholar straightened up and stood tall.

"First of all, I must say that your behavior is extremely rude."

The scholar said with a stern look in his eyes.

"No matter how much of an elder you are, is it right to treat someone like this so recklessly?"

The man's graying hair and white-streaked beard allowed the scholar to roughly guess his age. Despite his age, the man's rugged face still appeared to be in its prime.

"You do have quite a temper."

The man chuckled.

"Temper!"

The scholar raised his voice angrily. He was already upset by the man's violent and rude behavior. He tried to behave in a dignified manner befitting a scholar, but it was impossible not to get angry when provoked.

"What is the reason for abruptly dragging me here like this? Don't you know that such actions are strictly forbidden by the imperial law!"

"Imperial law?"

The man laughed again.

"Just a while ago, you were complaining about the unjust world and mocking the lofty scholars. Now you're clinging to imperial law, trying to rely on that unjust world? If you're truly a man..."

The man suddenly looked at a huge rock next to him.

Whooosh.

With a low noise, the man's martial arts uniform began to flutter as if there was a sudden gust of wind. Then, in the next moment, the man's fist cut through the air.

Whooosh.

Crash!

"Gasp!"

The scholar instinctively ducked and gasped. The man's punch had shattered a rock larger than a person in an instant.

'How could a person do that with their bare hands...'

Standing amidst the scattering rock fragments, the man grinned and said,

"Isn't it only fitting to rule the world with one's own strength?"

​

TL Note: lmk if I should keep going.