An angry grassland. That was Mungok’s koan. He did not seem to be in his right mind at all.
True to his stated words about killing the land, he acted like an incarnation of vengeance.
“You do not know the Thousand Character Classic...? Do you know how to breathe?”
“Why is it a problem that I killed a Northern King? This humble one merely crushed a man-eating monster. I did not kill a king. Even Mencius did not treat the merciless King Zhou as a true ruler, so the righteousness of my actions...”
“Jianghu people who say they have nothing to eat and yet commit wickedness should be made to taste each other’s single punch with their mouths. Indeed, if commoners are to survive an age of chaos, they must hone speechcraft like martial arts. I will compile phrases that deftly scrape a warrior’s pride, and spread a thinly bound book far and wide so that farmers can read it...”
“Farmers do not know the Thousand Character Classic? Then do they not know how to breathe...?”
He had tasted many errors. A failed scholar. A man who had only gone back and forth between his cramped room and the gate.