WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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Chapter 110: Hanga Mogok Orphanage (2)

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Of course, the orphanage's grand reopening did not go smoothly.

No, it was nowhere close to smooth.

Once again, managing a group was much like being an author-editor.

And Namgung Eok could hardly have been the only artsy type among them.

The former Mogok School faculty, now orphanage teachers, looked baffled.

"Um... Chairman Han San?"

"Yes."

"I understand that an orphanage might offer proper academic subjects and all, but... are these really the things we're supposed to teach?"

The teachers held the orphanage's class schedule in their hands.

"Korean, Japanese, arithmetic, physical education... We have no issue with those. But why are you teaching these children [English]?"

Teacher Namgung Eok had been King Gojong's English interpreter. But that also meant English was a language with no practical use beyond such settings, so why teach it at an orphanage?

"And why aren't there classes in [school songs] or [moral training]?"

School songs and moral training corresponded roughly to music and ethics classes today.

Both were considered essential to cultivating a child's character.

Han San shrugged.

"Come on. I put [public morals] on the schedule."

"We looked at it, and it's just things like not cutting in line and not stealing. There is nothing about loyalty and filial piety, nor love for one's country and people. How can that count as proper morality?"

The teachers were dumbfounded.

In those days, Koreans still widely believed that the ultimate purpose of education was to raise gentlemen of virtue.

They had already been unsettled by the written pledges and letters of reflection, by being told to take in and teach a bunch of little beggars, and by former gangsters being brought in as dorm supervisors, guards, and physical education teachers.

They were only staying reluctantly, because the revered Namgung Eok had earnestly persuaded them and because the Government-General had sent them the message, [Hello? From now on, I'm going to stalk you.]

Still, when they saw the curriculum brought in by Han San, holder of the triple crown of [new money], [slash-and-burn settler background], and [friendly with the Japanese Empire], even they began to complain.

"At this rate, we cannot raise these children into upright adults!"

"Mm."

Han San did not even blink.

"I don't intend to raise them into gentlemen of virtue."

"Pardon?"

"It will be enough if they become [workers] who can make an honest living."

That was right.

As a regressor, Han San knew all too well.

'The times ahead are going to be harsh.'

The children entering the orphanage now, along with the children across the country beginning their education while dreaming of a new nation, could be called a miraculous generation.

But in a bad sense.

What future awaited children who began life in 1930, under the [Japanese Empire]?

First, they would have to endure World War II in the 1940s and the national war of the 1950s. There was no end to the other disasters he could list.

'Honestly, surviving myself was a stroke of heavenly luck.'

Without the inheritance his father had left him and the hidden help of his father's friends, including Uncle Imok, he might not even have reached adulthood. After the Inwang Gang disappeared, it had been one stroke of heavenly luck after another.

So Han San had reached his conclusion long ago.

The Mogok Orphanage's goal was not to produce gentlemen of virtue.

'Survival.'

To survive!

To keep hold of a bowl of rice and survive, whether in the middle of a battlefield or after war had reduced the entire country to ruins.

'They absolutely need English. It'll only become more important with time.'

The timing worked out perfectly.

Namgung Eok, who owed Han San his life, had once been King Gojong's English interpreter.

"How could an old man like me hold back when a young man has done so much to help me?"

Namgung Eok himself decided to stand at the lectern despite his age.

"When I first established the school, all I wanted was to pass on knowledge. I believe I shall return to being an educator with peace of mind."

Han San bowed his head in respect to the old man, who was offering all the sincerity he could.

"Thank you, Teacher."

"Ho ho. No, no. I'm sorry I couldn't rein in the teachers, and sorry that I failed to earn your trust as well."

The teachers who had been so baffled could only panic at the words of their spiritual pillar.

"N-no! We are the ones who should..."

"Um... We're sorry, Teacher. And Chairman..."

The teachers lost half their momentum there.

But half still remained.

"Then why is there [civil engineering]?"

"Because it's necessary."

Han San had firmly told Namgung Eok that the Japanese Empire would collapse. That was true, but there was one truth he had not mentioned.

The post-liberation Republic of Korea would also collapse in the national war that followed!

Yet, amazingly, Korea would rise again. Han San remembered concrete jungles blooming from bare ground where not even a framework remained.

(Then again, Japan and China rose again too. Maybe it was a trait Northeast Asian countries began with by default.)

'Civil engineering knowledge will be useful in postwar national reconstruction, on the battlefield, and even when repairing damaged homes or furniture in daily life.'

Han San swept his gaze over the children as though looking at ripe fruit.

'I might be able to put them to use when I need them, too.'

There was no need to look for separate teachers for civil engineering.

Hadn't the people of Sebeom Valley, including the Chuk Brothers, gained experience from flood recovery work only recently?

Han San intended to teach it in earnest, bundling [civil engineering] together with [vocational studies], or in other words, field practice.

That decision shocked the teachers as well.

"If it's field practice, shouldn't you naturally teach them farming? Farming is the foundation of all under Heaven..."

"Civil engineering? Such lowly physical labor..."

Han San remained firm.

"Please follow my decision."

Then he continued.

"I want these kids to make an honest living wherever they end up, whether it's Chuncheon, Tokyo, Primorye, or even New York. I want nothing more than that."

"Mm..."

The teachers did not look convinced, but they had no choice but to accept it. Namgung Eok himself was going to stand before the class and follow the set curriculum.

One teacher, famous for fine calligraphy, remained an artsy type to the very end.

"E-even if everything else is fine! Aren't there too few subjects for cultivating the mind? A person should at least know how to write Chinese characters with grace as they grow up. Otherwise, how will they develop artistic sensitivity?"

"There is [cooking]."

"How is cooking art!?"

Han San did not waste his breath arguing.

On the first day of the orphanage's grand reopening, he made the first period [cooking] and taught the class himself.

The lesson: pour oil into a cauldron and heat it, then coat chicken in batter.

The orphanage students cheered at the new kind of class. Even the adults drawn in by the smell of frying chicken caught their breath.

Especially the calligraphy teacher, who had a chicken drumstick in their mouth and looked as though they had witnessed brushwork like Han Seok-bong and Wang Xizhi holding hands and dancing ganggangsullae, murmured,

"So cooking really was art after all."

And so, even the artsy type was subdued.

The sajang of Han's Myriad Commerce and chairman of the orphanage had risen beyond editor to something like editor-in-chief, yet he still had one thought.

'It would be nice if the children developed some literary grounding, though.'

Artsy types were a kind of anomaly.

They were why authors sometimes lost their minds for a moment and suddenly whispered, 'But do you know the true meaning of New Noah...?' or declared, 'In fact! The Empire once had a beautiful young officer called the Silver Fox Baron...!' before getting up to all kinds of strange things.

'I promised Teacher Namgung I wouldn't quietly bring back twenty periods of fun wordplay...

Hmm. Old Man Gye said Kim Yu-jeong is fired up and hard at work writing. Could I use that as supplementary reading to build up the children's literary grounding?

Once there's enough material, it could be a textbook rather than supplementary reading.'

Han San let his imagination soar.

Korean class. A room full of children gathered together, engrossed in literary discussion.

[ Why is a transcendent master's mind sword stronger than a pinnacle master's sword aura? ]

[ A transcendent master has the word transcendent in front of it! Of course they're stronger than a pinnacle master! ]

[ Hmm, but isn't that a hasty conclusion? (Adjusts glasses.) What you just said may establish that a transcendent master is superior to a pinnacle master, but it does not establish that a mind sword is superior to sword aura. ]

Han San nodded deeply.

'This is it.'

It was a truly proper educational institution. He could already hear talk of post-liberation Korea's culture leading the world.

'Wouldn't it be perfect if it became known as an academy that raises future wuxia authors... a Wuxiademy?'

While the chairman was possessed by that anomaly, the Government-General also sent an inspection party for the first day of classes. The higher-ups had sent Sawada as the inspector in charge with the intention of saying, [You two are close, right? Get even closer from now on.]

Sawada observed the little beggars' lessons with a look as though he had bitten into something foul.

"...Hm?"

When the second subject, [history], began, surprise creased his fierce brow for the first time.

After the [history] class ended, Sawada spoke privately with Han San in the hallway.

"You."

"Oh, Commander. Welcome. I truly appreciate you honoring us with your presence despite being so busy..."

"Enough with the chatter. You, did you know of Lord Nobunaga's Battle of Okehazama?"

The history lesson that had just ended had, surprisingly, not covered Japan's founding history or anything like that.

It was, in other words, [war history].

Han San had selected wars from Japanese history and had them taught under the label of [history].

"Goodness, what do I know? But! The Empire's majesty lies in war, and then more war, does it not!"

"Hm."

"And when one speaks of war, there is Oda Nobunaga! Who else could it be but that great man!"

"Hmm."

"Commander, I only hope these children will grow into fine warriors and serve as members of society. That means they need vigorous education from childhood, not weak or old-fashioned lessons."

"Is that so?"

Even an official of the Japanese Empire might have responded, "That is a little much," upon hearing Han San's words.

But the Government-General had sent Sawada as the official responsible for the site inspection.

Again, did a person in charge take responsibility?

No. A person in charge was someone with the ultimate power to avoid responsibility.

Sawada was in charge, so responsibility fell upon the Government-General that had put him there.

"I cannot deny it. This history curriculum is excellent."

Even if the Korean bastard before him had deliberately proposed samurai-focused subjects to flatter him, no, because that was precisely why it was even more meaningful.

Did it not mean that he was exerting a good influence on this Korean land and instilling an advanced samurai spirit into it?

'Is this the 【standing】 of a man destined to rule the realm?'

He was satisfied.

"Keep it up."

"Of course, Commander."

Naturally, Han San had no intention of teaching samurai spirit.

What Han San intended was to teach these little ones how to survive the future wars that would come for them.

As he pondered how to teach those things, a brilliant idea had occurred to him.

'Hm? Why not just pretend it's Japanese war history and quietly teach them wartime lessons?'

It even looked right.

Just as Koreans still held the idea that education was meant to produce gentlemen of virtue, Japanese people also widely believed that education should raise samurai.

Han San's classes were perfect for Sawada, who held especially conservative views!

"Hey, Sawada. How's the atmosphere over there?"

The operations chief of the Chuncheon military police asked when he met Sawada.

Sawada straightened his posture.

"It was clean and without unnecessary frills."

"Really?"

"Yes. I found no impure thoughts or behavior at all. From the form of the lessons to their content, they meet the Empire's expectations."

"Hm..."

The operations chief thought that if even this bastard approved, there was no problem.

Again, the Government-General had to bear responsibility for sending Sawada to inspect it.

"That young Korean named Han San is quite useful."

Han San used [seditious elements who cultivate rose of Sharon] to raise [street beggars] into fine [Imperial subjects], and was treated as a model citizen.

Even to the Government-General, he was no different from an alchemist. They had gotten more than their money's worth from the tax reductions and subsidies.

And so.

At that educational site, officially recognized by the Government-General for cultivating [Imperial subjects], this was what was happening.

"Hello, Younghee! My name is Cheolsu! How are you!?"

"I'm fine, thank you! And you!?"

"I'm fine too!"

In one classroom, the children's greetings in the language of those Western bastards went back and forth diligently. (Fortunately, the chairman's style of pronunciation had been successfully kept in isolation.)

"Material-hauling work is done with your glutes, not your back or shoulders!"

"Construction-site muscle aches are worked out through construction work!"

In another classroom, practical civil engineering knowledge was passed down.

"One! Never forget concealment of one's route and watch every direction!"

"One! A trench is my home! No, my hometown! If you stay somewhere for more than a day, make yourself a hometown first!"

"One! Do not eat mushrooms you do not know! Memorize one edible wild plant every day!"

And in yet another classroom... well, something was happening.

Footnotes:

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