The Clean Stream Faction's Mental Victory
The Clean Stream faction was ultimately nothing more than a mental victory for betas who had failed to secure any real power, and this was even written in Egyptian papyrus. It took about a week for the governor's duties to wrap up, and during that time my drinking sessions with the two men continued several more times. Even when Cao Cao suggested we drop the formal speech, Yuan Shao stubbornly refused. It didn't seem like shyness so much as... hmm... a reluctance to remove his mask, so I let it be.
"The court these days is utterly rotten! Ignoring the Clean Stream and only shielding those Dirty Stream officials—has His Majesty lost his mind!"
"Aman, the Dirty Stream are fundamentally people who have proven their ability through cold, hard cash."
"Hah, so you're saying it's perfectly fine for them to buy titles through bribery and plunder the common people?"
"Of course not. Internal oversight is always necessary. The current problem is that the overseers and the officials have become one and the same."
I wondered how many rounds it had been. This was one of the nights when Yuan Shao couldn't join us and I was drinking alone with Cao Cao. Griping about politicians over drinks was one of those timeless traditions that had existed throughout history, East and West. That night the alcohol went down especially smoothly. We each drained a full jar, our faces flushed red, and before long Cao Cao and I were locked in fierce debate as we tore into the Dirty Stream faction. I found myself lamenting the emperor who could not wield true absolute power.
"Exactly! It was the Ten Eunuchs and the consort clans who purged all those inspectors!"
"In exchange, they obtained the strongest royal authority in Han history. They swept away the nitpicking Clean Stream scholars, and the Dirty Stream were always the ones meant to protect imperial power in the first place."
"What?!"
"Consort clans? Eunuchs? If the emperor withdraws his favor, can they ever seize power again? The local gentry who hide behind the Clean Stream label have their own supporters. If they lose this round, they can simply raise disciples and wait for the next. But consort clans? Can they marry into the imperial family generation after generation? And eunuchs? Aren't they all castrated? Can they continue their bloodline? The Clean Stream? Confucian scholars who follow proper order? So... were they the ones throwing stones at people thirty years ago for skipping the three-year mourning period? Were they the ones twisting their words to hide their true intentions? In the end, since they couldn't seize power by devouring each other, they invented complicated, grotesque procedures just to flaunt their moral superiority. The name says it all—Clean Stream. 'We are the pure ones. We recommend each other for office and take our posts, but at least we didn't buy them with money.' Bullshit. Today's officials are one of two things: they proved their talent through connections, or they proved it with money. The third path would be to castrate yourself, I suppose. I wouldn't recommend it, though."
Cao Cao's eyes widened. Whether it was because he was still a young scholar carrying the seeds of a future warlord, because he simply hadn't thought that far, or because something else had occurred to him... I couldn't really tell.
"Right now we have the strongest... well, if I exaggerate a little, it's practically an era of absolute monarchy. If one had the will, one could even build the Great Wall all over again."
"Of course, properly governing the hearts of the people would be the first priority."
"That's always the top priority."
"From the way you talk, I thought you didn't care much about public sentiment."
"Nonsense. The will of the people is the will of Heaven. Any state that fails to practice politics for the people, by the people, and of the people is doomed to collapse. To speak my true heart... it's also the cheapest method of governance."
"Pfft! Well said!"
---
Back at the Yuan family funeral hall, my expression as I greeted Yuan Shao and Cao Cao had grown somewhat stiff.
"Ahem... I'm sorry about what I said back then."
"So suddenly?"
"A slip of the tongue made in ignorance is still a slip, but if I had known it would be insulting, then an apology before it becomes an insult is only proper."
"...Sigh. I heard you studied under Lord Lu Zhi, but you've become quite the master at twisting words like those old Clean Stream fossils."
"Gongsun Gong... Aman, must you speak of such things here?"
"...My apologies."
"Sorry."
"Still, it's good to see your face after so long. You seem to be well, and that is a relief."
"Is your health holding up?"
Perhaps because the three of us had created a rather warm atmosphere, or perhaps because it was the turn of the great scholar, the long line of mourners made space for us. If we kept our voices low, our words would not reach them.
"...Well, it isn't good."
"Honestly, you know better than anyone how insane this is."
"If a son goes mad in offering to his parents, that too can be considered a good thing."
Crazy bastard. As a son of a concubine myself, I knew perfectly well. For one's biological father, perhaps, but holding three years of mourning for a stepmother was pure madness. And if it was the son of a concubine... well. It was like attending the funeral of your company president's wife and observing full three-year mourning. You get the idea.
"Don't ruin your health. There is no greater unfilial act than losing one's body while practicing filial piety."
"I'm fine. I know my own body. This much is nothing."
I had never once met a person who said those words and actually turned out fine... but it didn't matter. He wasn't someone who would survive to the end of this warlord era anyway. It was enough to simply attach a moderately positive image to him.
"In any case, I offer my condolences once more. Let's share a meal together later."
"That doesn't sound bad. Safe travels home."
...I had spoken of sharing a meal later, but I doubted the day would ever come. Something told me it wouldn't.
It was late summer. By the time I returned it would be autumn, and my connection with my teacher would slowly draw to a close.
The jar of gunpowder I had buried in the academy's backyard was bait I had cast toward the Clean Stream faction through my teacher. It didn't matter if they wasted time and budget searching for black sand. Even if they somehow managed to produce gunpowder... there was no chance they could. Simply looking at the substance and figuring out the exact black powder formula? If such a person existed, I could kidnap—no, hire them and put them to use. If hiring wasn't possible, I could simply remove them from the board.
I planted the incense, bowed twice, and left the Yuan family ancestral cemetery.
The road back to Takgun was uneventful. Stabbing the skulls of bandits who appeared every other day, pitching tents on damp earth for overnight camps—these were hardly unusual for travelers of this period, so it was fair to call the journey moderately smooth.
"It seems we'll be parting ways once we return."
"It does."
"I recommended you as Administrator of Liaodong."
"Pardon?"
"The previous one was killed by the Maek tribe barbarians. Among the young talents these days, there is no one with as much promise as a general as you, so I put your name forward."
"Wait, does that even make sense? A mere low-level clerk becoming an administrator?"
"That's how the Clean Stream works. You already knew that, didn't you?"
"...Will I be taking up the post alone?"
"Do you wish to bring someone?"
"Absolutely not. A dependency of Liaodong will be absolute chaos with the Maek and Xianbei tribes running wild. What kind of hardship would I subject a new bride to?"
"Take her with you."
"Pardon?"
"From my limited perspective, that place is actually safer. The Central Plains will soon become a sea of blood. As administrator of a dependency, you will have only the Liaodong Governor above you. After Emperor Wu's conquest, it is a barbaric land with no proper kingdoms left. You can simply shut yourself inside the fortress and organize the archives."
No, those barbarians are Goguryeo... a cavalry civilization that swallowed Manchuria and created the largest territory in Korean history...
Even though they were still in their early stages, they were not to be underestimated. No matter how many lives I lived in this primitive ancient Chinatown, the chance to set foot on my previous homeland was not one I could easily discard. If possible, I wanted to get along with them.
The semi-agricultural, semi-nomadic gangster state I had read about on the internet... hmm. I figured I could somehow become friends with them. The nature of horse-riding peoples was more or less the same everywhere. The 21st-century robotics-horse-riding local rebels had been similar, and the traditional horse-riding local chieftains had been similar too. Give them food, share a few drinks, establish a brotherhood based on age, and one could probably get by.
...And honestly, as a Korean, I did want to see the armored cavalry at least once.
Ah, but the armored cavalry probably didn't exist yet? I wasn't sure.
For now, it seemed best to focus solely on returning safely. After I got back, I would concentrate on setting a date for the wedding. Thinking about my departure for Liaodong could wait until after that.
- Swish. The sound of grass being parted reached my ears. If it had been a wild animal, it would have avoided the fire. If it had been a traveler, they would have announced their approach with noise. Therefore, a single accidental rustle of grass meant it was wiser to assume bandits.
"These bastards never get tired. I'll be back shortly, Master."
"Don't get hurt. Shall I assist?"
"It's fine. From the look of them, they seem like displaced peasants. They must have come out driven by hunger."
I drew a single axe, roughly measured the distance in my head, and approached slowly. When dealing with bandits, the greatest weapons were notoriety and fear. MCMAP with a dagger was efficient, but it lacked the violently visual impact needed to inspire terror. That was why I drew the axe I had hastily purchased on the road.
In one hand I held the dagger as a makeshift shield for defense. In the other I gripped the axe—still bearing traces of blood—and walked deliberately slowly. The important things were atmosphere and fear. If I could control those two, guaranteeing safety on the road was simpler than expected.
"I am Gongsun Zan of You Province."
The moment they heard the name, terror flashed in their eyes. I had taken a few bandits as examples, carved them up 'in the rebel fashion,' engraved my name on them, and hung them from trees. Anyone with eyes and a brain would know exactly who had created that display.
I had received an earful from Master about it, but the bandits of this era existed on the very edge of humanity, so it had been nothing more than the usual nagging about whether my methods were too harsh.
"The first one who steps forward, I'll mince into the finest pieces. I swear it."
The fighting spirit vanished from their eyes. Knees buckled. They collapsed to the ground. A warm liquid leaked from between their legs.
"Not coming? Shall I come to you?"
"S-spare m... s-save... please spare us!"
I had no hesitation about shedding blood, but I was not insane. I was a soldier, not some lunatic who enjoyed carving human flesh. All violence and killing had to stem from necessity; personal preference could not be part of the equation. I was not a native of this primitive ancient Chinatown. I was... yes, a modern man who understood the concept of natural human rights. So lower the corners of your mouth.