Chapter 194 — Breakfast
In the morning, Yeongu woke and looked over the affairs of the household.
Even when he stayed still, the sound of people coming and going continued.
The steward approached first and bowed his head.
"There are eighty seok of grain left in the storehouse. It will be enough for some time."
Then one of the slaves stepped forward.
"Half the fields have been plowed. The rest can be finished soon."
Another continued.
"The wall was repaired yesterday. It will not collapse even if rain comes."
The words did not stop.
Some held account books, and some stood with soil still on their hands.
Reports continued even without his asking.
Each time words passed back and forth, heads lowered, and the answers were brief.
The affairs of the household flowed through people's mouths.
He had given no orders, yet they knew who the master of this house was.
As he listened quietly, he heard someone call him to eat.
When he went to the main house, his mother and three sisters were seated around the meal.
"Mother."
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes. I slept deeply for the first time in a long while."
"That is good. You must have had a hard time."
His mother's gaze swept down over his face.
She believed all life outside the house must be difficult.
No, she believed her son was always placed in difficult circumstances.
"Oh, it was hardly difficult. Once I rose in rank, things became easier."
"Eat."
"Yes."
The table was set.
In the past, a meal had consisted of one bowl and three side dishes, five at most.
Now the side dishes filled the table.
Steam rose from the soup, and the dishes were arranged neatly.
Suddenly, the bowls of side dishes looked as if they were lined up in horizontal ranks.
Without meaning to, he multiplied the rows and columns, as if counting troops.
His sisters adjusted their places little by little while setting out the spoons and chopsticks.
The youngest kept stealing glances at Yeongu.
The second sister pushed a side dish toward him with a calm face.
The eldest quietly filled his water bowl.
His mother lifted her spoon.
Only then did the family move together.
There was not much talk.
The sounds of bowls touching and soup being swallowed continued.
Now and then, a few short words passed between them, and then it became quiet again.
The table was abundant.
Their clothes were neat.
That was enough.
Just seeing his family seated like this put his heart at ease.
There was nothing more to wish for.
After he had eaten a little, his mother asked, "Are you on leave?"
At those words, his hand paused for a moment.
"No. I have quit. I submitted my resignation."
"Resignation?"
The sound of bowls touching fell one beat late.
The youngest briefly put down the spoon she had been holding.
The side dish the second sister had been pushing toward him stopped on the table.
The eldest, who had been holding the water bowl, set it down as it was.
The air in the room sank a little.
The soup bowl that had been steaming began to cool where it stood.
The small sounds that had continued just a moment ago grew fewer.
His mother's eyes trembled for an instant.
She did not continue speaking.
The table remained as it was.
Only the people grew quiet.
"Yes. Please do not worry. With the estate as it is now, there will be no trouble making a living. Only, the things that used to come down from the north will stop now."
"A great deal has already come. A very great deal."
The words did not continue.
For a moment, her gaze fell to the table.
"..."
"With that, we repaired the house and brought in household goods. We have also continued buying land and increasing it. I bought it with a day like this in mind."
"You did well."
"Dorogan handles the work well."
His mother rarely said someone was good at something.
"I see. I received reports this morning."
His eldest sister covered her mouth and laughed.
"You call that a report?"
"Yes, I suppose so. I have been in the army so long that I'm poor at choosing words."
His mother asked, "How was it, then, that report?"
"It concerned the land and cultivation status, the storehouse situation, and the household retainers."
Yeongu pointed to his right ear with a finger.
"I heard it with this ear and let it flow out through this ear. I understood what they meant, but I could not get a feel for the numbers. No, they hardly entered my head at all."
"That would happen. You will need time. How many years were you in the army?"
"It feels like more than seven or eight years. At some point, I stopped counting."
His mother's eyes grew distant.
Some people count every day while waiting for someone to return…
Our son stopped counting the passing days because he lived as though he would never return at all.
"What are you going to do now, elder brother?"
The youngest asked.
"Mm. I have no thoughts yet. For a while, I'm just going to do nothing and idle around."
"Hm. You must have been worn out."
"It was not like carrying something heavy. Mm, how should I put it? My mind was noisy. It feels as if the sound of monsoon rain keeps rushing through my ears."
"Then will you play with me later?"
Yeongu gave a faint laugh.
He could not clearly recall those days.
A very long time ago, before he turned fifteen, he must have done something together with this small girl…
A warm, distant memory remained as a feeling, but he could not remember what they had played.
"Yes. Today, after I visit one place."
"Hiiing."
At the mention of going somewhere, his mother showed concern.
"You should rest. Why go out again?"
"There is a senior martial brother of mine on Oryang Mountain."
"Oryang Mountain? Is that not quite far?"
"On horseback, it is close."
"Senior martial brother? What is that?"
Yeongu tried to explain, but the words did not come easily.
Time spent giving orders and receiving replies had piled up in layer upon layer.
"When I was in the army, I learned martial arts. Another disciple who learned from the same master is called a senior martial brother."
Hearing that explanation, his sister laughed.
"You mean you studied under the same teacher?"
"We are of the same school. The timing was different, so we did not study together. Ahaha. My life changed when I met the master who had come to support the army. I was just a low-ranking soldier, but after learning martial arts, I earned merit and rose. At the end, I became a Jungnangjang."
His mother nodded and smiled.
A faint bitterness seeped into that smile.
"Then why quit? You could have continued. You must have some thought."
"I disliked killing so many people. I mean to stop now."
"That is how the army is. How could it be otherwise?"
"That is true. When a monk dislikes the temple… the monk must leave. The temple does not change."
"You tried to change the temple?"
"Yes. But it did not work. So I quit."
He no longer knew how many times he had said these words.
After repeating them so often, he began to wonder whether he truly had resigned for that reason.
Perhaps there was another reason.
When a person changes his life, there must be something very serious behind it, something that cannot be explained so simply.
There was no way to explain what that thing was.
Outwardly, one says it was because of this or because of that, but one cannot be certain whether that was truly the reason.
I made this choice because of this.
I made that choice because of that.
And yet, did our lives truly fall into this pit for reasons so simple?