"Do you know who I am, old man? I am Kim Il Sung."
"And I am Chiun."
"Watch your mouth, Chiun."
"It is not I who drivels on floors. You get your manners from Russians."
"You are a bandit and a lackey of imperialists," said the premier without caution, for he was angered greatly.
"Were you not the premier of our people in the north," said Chiun, "I would slay you like a pig for dinner. Yet I withhold my hand for I would reason with you."
"How can a lackey reason?" said the premier. "All his reason serves his white masters. I serve Korea."
"Before you, young man," said Chiun, "Sinanju was. During the Mongol invasion, Sinanju was. During the Chinese lords, Sinanju was. During the Japanese lords, Sinanju was. During the Russian lords, Sinanju was. They are all gone and we are here as we will be here after Kim Il Sung was. But I would speak with you for, lo, after these many years Korea has a leader who is of her own. And that is you, although you are but a Pyongyanger."
And hearing these words, Sung sat. But he neither bowed nor did he remove his shoes as in the old ways. And Myoch'ong listened with great apprehension. But when Chiun spoke, he knew all would be well for there was much wisdom in the Master.
"You come here seeking the wisdom of Sinanju, otherwise why would a premier come to this poor village?" said Chiun.
And Sung agreed.
"You call me lackey," said Chiun.
And Sung agreed.
"Yet who is the lackey? Have I joined Sinanju to the Russians? Have I made compacts with the Chinese? Do I on every occasion support Arab and African and even whites just because they profess a belief in one form of government?"
"They are our allies," said Sung. "The Russians give us arms. The Chinese fought Americans for us."
And Chiun smiled.
"The Russians gave arms because they hate the Americans. The Chinese fought because they hate the Americans. Lucky are we that these two hate each other for they would sit in Pyongyang and not you. As for Africans, Arabs, and whites, they are far away and not even yellow. The Japanese are greedy, the Chinese despicable, the Russians swine, and as for our own southerners, they would sleep with ducks if birds had big enough openings."
At this, Sung roared in laughter.
"This man has a proper outlook," he said to Myoch'ong. "Who is responsible for calling him a lackey? Who has given me such misinformation?"
And Chiun spoke again. "But we must look with more sympathy upon our southern brothers because they are of the south and cannot help themselves. This is their nature."
Myoch'ong gasped. For never had anyone dared say any kind thing about those beneath the thirty-eighth parallel.
"I too have often thought such. They cannot help being what they are," said Sung.
"And Pyongyang is not the nicest of places. It is where good people go wrong," said Chiun.
"I was not born in Pyongyang but in Hamhung," said Sung.
"A fine village," said Chiun.
"Sinanju is fine also," said Sung.
"I am of Paekom," said Myoch'ong.
"But he has risen above it," said Sung.
"Some of our best friends come from Paekom. They transcend their origins," said Chiun.
Now Kim Il Sung was satisfied that here was a man of good heart and proper thinking. But he was troubled.
"I hear you teach Sinanju to whites. To an American."
Now Chiun knew this to be a great offense, one that could not be laid before the premier with all honesty, so he was careful with his words, and he spoke with slowness and with caution.
"In my own village, in my own family, none I found was worthy. There was laxness and sloth and deceit. Among ourselves, we can admit these things."
Sung nodded for he too knew of the problems of governing.
"There was ingratitude for what was offered," said Chiun.
How well did Sung know this also.
"There was backsliding and lack of discipline," said Chiun.
Oh, how truly did the Master of Sinanju know this, proclaimed Sung.
"The son of my own brother took the preciousness given him and used it for selfish gain."
How well did Sung know this trait. He looked somberly at Myoch'ong.
"He acted like a southerner, "said Chiun.
Sung spat and this time Chiun nodded approval. For it was a proper moment for such things.
"And so I sought another, that this knowledge of our people should not die."
"A wise thing," said Sung.
"I would have chosen one of us. But in all the village, in all the North, I did not find one with a Korean heart. I did not know you at the time."
"I had my problems," said Sung.
"So I sought a Korean heart like yours. One of us."
"Good for you," said Sung, placing a strong hand on the shoulder of the Master of Sinanju by way of congratulation.
"This man of our heart happened to have suffered a misfortune at birth. A catastrophe."