The Sea's Just Water Too - 4
The Gi Gangwang Division originated as a self-defense militia formed to fend off raids from the Yangtze River Water Bandit Eighteen Strongholds.
Gi Gangwang, who lost his family to those water bandits, had been fighting them even before the Founder's great uprising. Those who shared his resolve gathered, marking the beginnings of what is now the Gi Gangwang Division.
Thanks to this, they are more fervent about crushing water bandits than even the Mongols—and they excel more at naval combat than land battles.
'They might have even formed their own independent faction.'
Fortunately, Gi Gangwang believed the reason the Yangtze teemed with water bandits was due to Mongol oppression. But what if he hadn't linked the bandits to the Mongols?
What if the Founder and Gi Gangwang had built separate forces to fight the Mongols? It probably would have taken far longer to drive them out—or worse, the Founder and Gi Gangwang might have clashed.
A terrifying thought, but thankfully, any such conflict remained mere imagination. The naval experts followed the Founder into battle against the Mongols, and after the founding of Great Song, they became the core of the navy, resuming their bandit-crushing ways.
"Long live Your Highness Gi Gangwang! Long live! Long live! Long long live!"
"""Long live! Long live! Long long live!"""
In other words, the generals and soldiers of the Gi Gangwang Division are the most seasoned and formidable force around. When Gi Gangwang gives the order, they move in perfect unison, swiftly purging the trash from the waters—the real deal.
"What do you think, Han Un? It's rare to see the Ye Division's troops on land, isn't it?"
And amid the thunderous triple cheers, Gi Gangwang turned to me with a pleased expression.
Indeed, the Gi Gangwang Division soldiers spend more time on ships than on solid ground. Back when Jo Wi-cheo and I were traveling from Hubei to Sichuan, hadn't we been kidnapped by Gi Gangwang while passing on a boat?
"It's always been a pity that the troops dedicated to the Yangtze's peace couldn't leave their vessels. Seeing them display their might on land like this fills me with joy as a Great Song official."
"Heh heh, it's not a sight you see every day. As you said, the Ye Division's men are elites more at home on deck than dirt."
Gi Gangwang raised his right hand as he spoke, and the troops chanting endlessly fell silent in unison. It was like a scissors snipping sound—truly awe-inspiring.
The Japanese pirates, already routed and ruined by Goryeo, now had to face these troops too. Talk about karmic payback hitting hard. Not that I felt any sympathy.
Who told them to play trash in the ocean?
"Han Un."
"Yes, Your Highness. What are your orders?"
"The comrades who fought the Yangtze River Water Bandit Eighteen Strongholds alongside Ye, and followed the Founder against the Mongols—they're starting to age, one by one. Some even dare to depart before me."
Gi Gangwang, gazing down at the troops from the platform, continued in a low voice.
"These days, with Ye still here and many veteran soldiers alive, the Yangtze remains peaceful. But who knows what time will bring? History proves that even the strongest soldiers grow slack in peace."
"...Indeed, wise words."
It was an abrupt worry about generational turnover, but not wrong, so I nodded in agreement.
Even the continent-shaking soldiers of the founding era lose discipline by the third or fourth emperor. It's like a law of nature, a path history confirms—just as Gi Gangwang said.
But the Gi Gangwang Division troops guarding the Yangtze and Grand Canal growing weak? That would be a catastrophe. The canals dirtied by petty bandit hands would shame the throne itself.
"That's why we're keeping them in constant real combat. Young soldiers learn from veterans, reducing mistakes—and only survivors can lead the division tomorrow."
I nodded silently at his words, laced with his own burdens. To an outsider, Gi Gangwang might seem a bandit-obsessed villain, but he was racing toward the future too.
A king striving so his people wouldn't suffer bandit atrocities like he had, hoping they'd live in peace.
"So let's end the inspection here. Keeping the troops standing too long tires everyone."
"Ah, yes."
Even his usual jest felt heavy. No matter how lighthearted he seemed, a king was a king.
Once the so-called "inspection"—really just sightseeing—ended, Gi Gangwang moved straight to departure prep.
"Why don't you come along, Han Un? No incidents in Jiangxi anyway—you could rest easy till Hangzhou."
And just like that, I failed to escape Gi Gangwang and got roped in.
He wasn't asking me to join the pirate hunt, but since the fleet was heading to Hangzhou anyway, tag along. More precisely, a courtesy: he'd drop me off in southern Zhejiang, so no walking—rest up.
Of course, courtesy from his view; from mine, it was oddly ominous. A regular official plopped amid a battle-ready fleet? Awkward.
"Why not just refuse?"
"He's not the type to take no for an answer. Better to thank him graciously and slip off quietly."
Ak I-yeon giggled as I sighed softly.
"His Highness seems to cherish you a lot. What king personally invites a passing official aboard?"
I gave a wry smile. She wasn't wrong. I couldn't deny becoming Gi Gangwang's pet official.
But meeting kings too often, sailing with them too much—it was starting to terrify me. Most officials never even glimpse a king's face in their lives.
"Still, Gaga."
"Yeah?"
"You hate ships, yet here you are boating. Kinda contradictory, huh?"
I chuckled at Ak I-yeon's tease. Fair point.
Hating ships and whining, yet out boating. Peak hypocrisy.
"Missing a chance to sightsee Poyang Lake would be the real shame."
"Hee hee, true enough."
No helping it. Hunan had Dongting Lake; Jiangxi had Poyang. Coming all this way and just watching from shore? Unthinkable.
So we boated around, revisiting battles from decades ago.
"The kids seem to love it too—would've broken their hearts if we'd left."
Following Ak I-yeon's glance, I saw Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i swimming leisurely. Too big for the boat, but paddling in the lake with all four legs? Doable.
White deer bobbing along stood out from afar.
"A lake swum by spirit beasts. It'll get even more famous now."
"Poyang no more—White Deer Lake fits perfectly."
We both burst out laughing. The lake officials had lit up the moment Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i hopped in.
Beyond "spirit beasts sighted"—a lake bathed in by them? Poyang's fame just got an epic boost—
"There they go, scrounging again."
Kki-ing-i, paddling along, scored treats from nearby merchants boating. Kki-ong-i followed, getting something from a merchant's little girl.
'What is this, a deer park?'
A beautiful space where people communed with deer via snacks. The eco-friendly vibe of a distant future, right here in Poyang Lake.
Not spirit beasts, but dozens or hundreds of regular deer set loose? Could be fun.
I pored over the pirate intel from the Ministry of Revenue multiple times.
A pirate fleet over five hundred ships had landed in Goryeo recently, with massive cavalry ravaging southern Goryeo.
No way that was just pirates. It was effectively a Japanese invasion.
And that fleet burned at Jinpo, with the disembarked pirates annihilated at Huangshan. The invasion repelled.
'Damn, they fight dirty good.'
The Huangshan battle was impressive too. Archery, harder to master than sword or spear, yet a Goryeo Hwagyeong archer slew the pirate chief and wiped out tens of thousands without mercy.
So the pirates Great Song faced would be outnumbered and outclassed. Mobilizing two hundred ships generously would not only crush them but sweep one of their bases—Tsushima.
'Maybe swing by Ryukyu while at it?'
With a full fleet out, might as well multitask. Clear Tsushima to cull pirates, visit Ryukyu to flex Great Song's sea dominance.
Come to think, with Great Song and Goryeo plagued by pirates, tiny Ryukyu must've suffered hell.
'Good plan.'
Solid idea, so I drafted a letter to Dong-gu Wang. Not solo sailing—needed his buy-in.
Plus, visiting a tributary meant the Emperor's final nod. If Dong-gu Wang approved, I'd request it from His Majesty right away. For the tributary's peace? He'd agree readily.
"Your Highness."
"Hm?"
As I scribbled, a low voice came from outside.
"A letter from Dong-gu Wang."
"From Dong-gu Wang?"
Unexpected—I blinked blankly. Him reaching out first? Synced thoughts maybe?
"Bring it in."
"Yes, Your Highness."
I ordered it brought; the door creaked open cautiously, an official hurrying in.
"Heh."
A glance at the letter drew a sigh.
Petty pirates beating us to the punch? Even adrift, it stung the pride.