“You're really walking well,” said Kanghyok. He was gasping for breath while following Yoni. He thought that Mt. Paldan was just in the vicinity of his neighborhood, but it was not. If he had known it was so far away, he would have stopped by his home to get on a horse.

The last time he had a long walk was when he went on a march during military training when he was young.

But Yoni walked briskly without any difficulty. Walking ahead, she sometimes looked back and said, “What did you say, sir? Ah, I'm used to walking like this, sir.” She was lightly wet with sweat, which looked s.e.xy to him.

‘I must be crazy to think her s.e.xy.'

Shaking his head, he quickened his pace. “I think I have to run in my neighborhood. I can't catch up with you.”

“Master, you are not supposed to run as a n.o.bleman.”

“I know, but I don't want to gasp for breath like this.”

“I guess Makbong would have already arrived there and taken his seat at the party. By the way, you are walking slowly because you're holding the bag anyway.”

With a bright smile, Yoni pointed to a stump she pa.s.sed by a while ago.

“Phew, I think we're almost there anyway.”

Though Yoni was ahead of her, he was much taller. So, he could notice the mayor's company gathered at the small pavilion in the distance.

The party place was a beautiful scenic area with lots of red flowers blooming everywhere.

Mayor Yungil Kim and other higher-ups were already having their fling with gisaeng (Korean geisha).

“We're late. Let's go now.”

“Yes, master.”

It took some more walking for both of them to get to the pavilion finally.

There were lots of horses put to the heelpost. Obviously, all of them except for Kanghyok got on horses to come here.

Mayor Kim, who was touching a gisaeng's breast freely, shouted with a happy look, “Hey, Kanghyok, welcome! Come this way.”

“Yes, sir.”

“As you have already heard, guys, this is Doctor Kanghyok Paek, the talk of the town these days.” The mayor didn't blame him for coming late, but kept on praising him.

“Aha, I know him, of course! That only son of Lord Sungmun Paek! Actually, he treated me before.”

It was the local judge Jungbok Lee who stood up and lavished praise on Kanghyok.

Though Kanghyok heard his name, he didn't know Jungbok was a judge.

“Oh, I see,” said another one curtly. He was Changkwon Chung, a learned scholar in the Suwon administrative office. His face suggested that he was a typical Confucian scholar.

Kanghyok saw him several times at his house because he was one of his father's disciples.

This scholar was notorious for making people around him pretty upset and uncomfortable.

Most of the others at the party were Confucian scholars the same age as Kanghyok or younger than him.

“Now, everybody is here. Let's start now.” The mayor now stopped flirting with the gisaeng and became serious.

At the same time, the young scholars became tense, with some swallowing dry saliva out of anxiety.

‘Umm… I feel like the atmosphere is a bit tense here.'

Kanghyok went through the turbulent years of his being a freshman at college, a medical intern, and a resident along the way.

Though he forgot all those tough days in the past, the memories were still quite vivid.

‘Looks like the mayor is a.s.signing something to everyone.'

As expected, the servants serving the mayor began to hand out something to the partic.i.p.ants.

‘Writing brush, ink stick, inkstone and hanji, or traditional Korean paper…'

As the mayor already informed Kanghyok, he was going to have a poetry contest.

“How about the condition of the paper?”

At his question the judge replied instantly, “Very good.”

“I guess so. They were provided by the paper factory I chose in person.”

Kanghyok could recognize that the quality of the paper was high.

He was once a member of a calligraphy club in college.

He spent hundreds pieces of hanji at that time practicing Chinese characters.

“Ummm… What would be a good t.i.tle for today's poem?”

“Mayor, I think the flowers around us are so beautiful today.”

“Oh, that sounds good. I love those reddish flowers. Let them take this as the topic of their poems.” The mayor issued an order to the contestants at the party.

The young scholars were busy creating some nice poetic ideas.

On the other hand, Kanghyok's lips turned into a deep frown.

‘d.a.m.n it!'

Kanghyok knew little poetry, and less about those related to flowers.

He could compose one if the mayor asked for any poem that came to their minds.

Turning his head, Judge Changkwon Chung was staring at him sternly.

‘Let me use all my brainpower!'

Putting one Korean cookie into his mouth, Kanghyok turned the topic over in his mind.

As the cookie was soaked with honey, he felt much better.

‘Great, something is starting to come to mind.'

He was very good at putting his brain to work as a student.

He began to recall every poem he could think of.

‘Right now the king must be Sonjo, and I guess it's the late 16th century.'

If that's true, he felt it would be better to recall one past that age.

Plagiarism was a serious crime in old as well as new Korea.

‘Who might be a famous poet in the mid or late Joseon period?'

What came to his mind immediately was Satgat Kim. But one of his poems that Kanghyok could recall was full of foul words. He could not recite it in front of the mayor.

‘The mayor might understand me, but the chief judge will be upset.'

Kanghyok again racked his brain to recall one related to flowers.

‘Aha, there is a poet called Jega Park.'

Though Park was a poet who lived in the 18th century, there was no chance that Kanghyok would be blamed for plagiarism if he borrowed Park's poem.

Fortunately, he had memorized one of his poems.

‘Great. Let me write it down.'

When he opened his eyes, some scholars were already done.

But he couldn't understand their poems in Chinese characters.

Kanghyok didn't think of beating them anyway. What he wanted most was to get out of this place as soon as possible.

Though his handwriting was not good enough, he composed a poem, at last.

“Hmm… It looks like they're all done,” said the mayor.

As if he was tired of waiting for too long, the mayor pressed on the contestants to finish now.

“Good. Recite your poem one by one,” said the mayor.

One scholar hesitantly rose up when he was chosen by the mayor. He opened the paper with one hand, so the mayor could see.

“My heart is surrounded by red flowers, and I'm moving my brush, carried away with the fragrance of flowers. I miss you, whose face was as reddish as flowers.”

In Kanghyok's mind, that was a good poem.

As if he felt the same way, the mayor nodded.

But the chief judge, steeped in Confucian learning, seemed not as satisfied.

“I'm afraid your poem is too romantic at a time you're fully focused on studying as a young scholar,” he commented.

“Sorry, sir.”

Changkwon kept blaming other scholars who submitted poems of their own.

‘Oh my, this judge really sucks!'

Kanghyok looked at Changkwon who was looking down at the young scholars sternly.

“Looks like there are few good poems today. Finally let me listen to Kanghyok's poem,” said the mayor.

At his call, Kanghyok stood up quickly.

As he was tall and handsome, he had an air of a stately n.o.bleman.

“Hum hum.” After clearing his throat, Kanghyok opened the paper with his poem.

With a relaxed expression, the mayor looked at him.

“Your handwriting is clean and neat. So, what's it about?”

“Let me recite it, though there is much room for improvement.”

“Sure, sure.”

Kanghyok cautiously recited the poem.

“Don't call all the flowers with that single word ‘red.' There are stamens and pistils in flowers, so take caution when you look for them.”

That was the poem by Jega Park, known as the best poet in the mid-Joseon period.

Though the poem was sarcastic, it was witty and attractive.

Kanghyok felt that way when he first memorized it.

‘Hmm… why are they so silent? Is this poem too ahead of the times?'

Looking around, he found the mayor casting a glance at him quietly.

After shutting his mouth for a while, the mayor said, “Great! Very good. His poem was sarcastic when you guys were just carried away with the red flowers.”

Soon, the chief judge seconded, “Yes, this is the best poem I have heard today.”

“No, no, this is the best poem I have heard this year. What do you think, Changkwon?”

“Not bad. I felt it had some twist in the depth of its high-mindedness.”

“Oh, that means today's winner of the poetry contest is Kanghyok. Great, come this way and take my gla.s.s!”

Who said true were thpse transcending the ages?

‘Thank you, Mr. Jega Park!'

Kanghyok quickly came to the mayor to take his gla.s.s.

The mayor filled the gla.s.s to the brim with a hearty laugh.

“Wow, the Paek family has produced a genius! Someone who is the best doctor and someone who is so good at composing poems.”

“I'm flattered, sir.”

Kanghyok just gulped down the gla.s.s without taking the mayor's praise seriously.

The mayor liked him all the more, impressed with the magnificent way he drank.

“Hey, Changkwon. Stop being stubborn like that. Just ask him a favor.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You told me the other day that you daughter experiencing a high fever. I think Kanghyok could cure her sickness completely.”