He then started to talk about a variety of matters, so that the main topic of interest should appear to arise naturally of its own accord. He spoke of the latest news from the west and the Laws of Manu. Referring to U-Tong, he asked them whether he really was as great a sage as he seemed; when he received only a reluctant, mumbled response, he ordered them to tell him the whole truth. They confessed, with exemplary unanimity, that U-Tong was one of the most sublime idiots in the kingdom—a shallow, worthless mind who knew nothing and was incapable of learning. Kalaphangko was shocked. An idiot?

“It pains us to say so, but that is what he is; a shallow, withered intellect. He has, however, a pure heart, and a noble, elevated character.”

When he had recovered from his shock, Kalaphangko told the academicians to leave, without asking them the question he had intended to ask. An idiot? He would somehow have to unseat him from the academy without offending him. Three days later, U-Tong was summoned by the king. The king inquired kindly after his health. He then said that he wanted to send someone to Japan to study some documents; it was a matter which could only be entrusted to a person of enlightenment. Which of his colleagues at the academy seemed to him most suitable for such a task? One can see the king’s cunning plan: he would hear two or three names, and then conclude that he preferred U-Tong himself to all of them. But here’s what U-Tong replied:

“My royal lord and master, if you will pardon my coarse language: the men you speak of are thirteen camels, except that camels are modest and they are not. They compare themselves to the sun and the moon. But, in truth, neither the sun nor the moon has ever shone on such worthless fools. I understand Your Majesty’s surprise, but I would be unworthy of my position if I did not say this with all due loyalty, albeit confidentially . . .”