The One from the Island - 3
No matter how much I racked my brain, it seemed Jang Gang and his compatriots lacked the funds to establish a proper sect. At best, they'd end up as some self-proclaimed outfit like "We're the Tianzhou Jang Gang Sect!" Or wait—if it came to that, should I even call it a sect, or just parakho?
'That can't happen.' Just imagining it sent chills down my spine. A band of parakho led by a Super Peak master, backed by ten Peak or first-rate experts? No force in Tianzhou could handle that. And this was an unaffiliated Super Peak who'd crossed from Taiwan to the Central Plains. If the government just paid a little attention, couldn't we cultivate a loyal Super Peak who'd back the state come hell or high water—and build a loyal sect around him? Letting that prime opportunity slip would be nothing short of a bureaucrat's shame.
"A Super Peak master carrying the blood of the Central Plains and Taiwan... you say?"
"Yes, Branch Manager. He threw himself into his father's embrace of his own accord. He didn't come lightly, so it's only right that the government extends a hand first."
That's why I'd gone to the Tianzhou branch manager and told him about Jang Gang. A mixed-blood child of a Central Plains father and Taiwanese indigenous mother, choosing to settle in the Central Plains. And that very mixed-blood was a Super Peak master. The branch manager's face grew serious at the news.
This was a man with such a burning longing for the Central Plains that he'd abandoned his lifelong home. To reach out to someone like that in his hour of greatest need, when he needed help most? There was no better bottom-fishing investment. We could saddle a Super Peak with an enormous debt of gratitude and win his favor in one stroke.
"The Left Vice Inspector General is right. He's no duty-shirking parakho—he crossed the sea on a filial whim to see his father's homeland. For such a devoted son, the government ought to step up and aid his settlement."
The branch manager, who'd quickly spun the wheels in his head, soon gave a positive reply. As expected. He'd no doubt pictured a Super Peak eagerly cooperating with my requests, personally smashing the bandits and pirates lurking around Tianzhou. Who could refuse Jang Gang's settlement after envisioning such a rosy future?
"Conveniently, there are a few manors owned by the government since the founding of Great Song. They were used by murim families until a few decades ago. Perfect as a base for a new sect."
With that, the branch manager stroked his chin thoughtfully before speaking cautiously.
"However, Left Vice Inspector General."
"Yes. Speak."
"I haven't seen this Jang Gang myself, nor verified the capabilities of the heroes who crossed with him. I can't even guess what manor would suit them."
A fair request: since I'd seen them with my own eyes, I should suggest an appropriate scale. I nodded calmly. After all, I'd met Jang Gang and his group firsthand, and I was the one pushing to support their sect. It was only right for me to decide the details.
"They're just a small band of a little over ten right now. But once tales of their successful settlement spread to Taiwan, won't a second, third Jang Gang flock to Tianzhou?"
"Indeed. Being the vanguard is hard, but following a pioneer's path is easy."
"Moreover, this would be the first time since Great Song's founding that a Super Peak establishes a sect under government patronage. Loyal heroes overflowing with zeal for the realm—but unsuited for military life—would gather beneath it."
The longer I spoke, the more the branch manager nodded vigorously. A sect starting small but destined to grow like wildfire. Even he must see Jang Gang's group as brimming with limitless potential.
'Its very existence will stir the mixed-bloods of Taiwan and the Central Plains warriors alike.' For the Taiwanese mixed-bloods, a chance at a new life. For Central Plains warriors, a way to serve the state beyond soldiering. Just thinking about it filled me with satisfaction. The gains from founding one sect were countless. Even if Jang Gang had the wealth to build his own, the government had to get a spoon in the pot somehow.
"We'll give them the largest manor under Tianzhou's control."
"Thanks to the Branch Manager's bold decision, Tianzhou will become a city of heroes. A joyous day indeed."
At my flattery, the branch manager cracked a faint smile. His decision, my credit. I'd proposed it first, but sharing the merit with him meant we'd build the sect together.
The manor he offered was grand enough to proudly claim the title of largest.
"Long ago, there was a clan called the Jang Clan here in Tianzhou. Known as the realm's finest family, honorable in the jianghu. But they couldn't weather the chaos of the Yuan's end and fell."
As we arrived at the manor, the branch manager explained its history. The base of Tianzhou's top clan, beloved by the people. The tomb of those who fought the flames of war to protect the commoners and Tianzhou, ultimately burning themselves out.
"A beautiful place."
"Yes. If it revives, it'll draw every eye in Tianzhou."
True enough—I nodded. The tomb of a clan that perished gloriously defending Tianzhou. For a new sect to rise from that tomb under government protection? Even those indifferent to murim would take notice.
"...The Jang Clan."
"And the founding master happens to be a Jang as well. A truly exquisite coincidence."
The branch manager chuckled softly. An exquisite coincidence indeed. A Jang founding master rising from the Jang Clan's tomb. You couldn't script a better story if you tried.
"Still, it's a bit regrettable. This manor brought in no small revenue."
Even then, he gazed wistfully around the grounds. Fair enough. A manor this size must have generated tidy sums for Tianzhou—not a fortune, but steady and substantial. Losing that income overnight would leave a bitter taste.
But it was fine. We couldn't prevent the dip, but it wouldn't vanish entirely.
"The new sect can kick back a portion of their revenue. They won't balk at that for receiving such a grand manor under government support."
"True enough."
Not wrong, so the branch manager let out a wry chuckle. Supporting a sect's founding didn't mean handing over a manor for free—that crossed a line. Setting that precedent could haunt successors. And it wasn't like we were demanding full payment—just a share. They'd pay what they could afford.
When we first set foot in the Central Plains, anxiety had gripped me like a vise. I hid it for my comrades who'd trusted and followed me, eyes on my back. If I faltered, how anxious would they be? But the Central Plains was an unknown world to me too. I'd never fully settled in my decades-old homeland, forced to abandon it in the end—what could I really know from afar?
Still, I mustered courage. In this vast realm, surely there's room for us? Hope that in my father's land, I'd live as a man, not scorned as in my mother's.
"Not just white, but pure spirit beasts brimming with righteous energy. Looks like they're welcoming the guests into Father's embrace."
And that hope bore fruit. The spirit beasts greeted us. They welcomed us who'd set foot in Father's land. They hailed us first, before any humans, as we wandered homeless.
We'd gotten meals from the man traveling with those beasts, so maybe not first—but wasn't he an immortal sage? Descended with celestials to bless our path.
Buoyed by courage and hope, we attempted settlement.
"What the heck are they doing?"
But the attempt fizzled awkwardly. We'd all burned with zeal, but... now what? Forming a sect from fringe-dwellers like us? Noble idea, but...
How do you even make a sect?
"If we just say we're a sect, aren't we a sect?"
"To join a sect, you need a base. You trying to run a sect from an inn?"
"We ain't got much money. Lucky if we can keep staying at the inn."
I racked my brain as my comrades muttered in Central Plains tongue.
To call ourselves a sect, we needed a base at minimum—but raised wary in Mother's land, we had no funds for that. We could scrape by at the inn for now, but past a month? Dicey.
'First, find jobs.' Merchant houses and escort agencies need martial artists. Roaming the realm, they face dangers needing shields. Start by working for them.
Our clumsy Central Plains speech worried me, but our realms should—
"There you are."
A familiar voice from behind—I turned.
"Took a while to find you. More out-of-the-way than I thought."
"S-Sage?"
It was the immortal who'd fed us recently.
"You lot—want to work with us?"
I blinked dumbly. Work with the sage? Guarding peach trees?
The sage truly was immortal.
"Build your dream here in this manor. The government believes in your skills and passion—give it your all."
More precisely, an immortal serving the heaven-like Emperor.
"Th-this is too generous a favor..."
"Don't get too thrilled. You'll remit a portion of the sect and manor's revenue to the government. Even we can't just give away a place like this for free."
Obvious, so I nodded vigorously. Not a house—a vast manor for hundreds. Expecting it gratis? Shameless.
"But Jang Gang."
"Yes! Speak!"
"Got a name for the sect? I need it for the capital report."
"Of course!"
I nodded at the sage's question. Our sect. Our name was set. Never dreamed it'd debut so soon.
"Ha-o-mun!"
"...Ha-o-mun?"
"Yes! For bottom-dwellers like us! A sect gathering in joy! That's Ha-o-mun!"
Lower ha (下) and joy o (娛). A vow that our bitter lives wouldn't last forever.
That was our sect. That was Ha-o-mun.
"Great name, right!?"
"...Hmm. Yes. A fine name."
The sage acknowledged our resolve with approval.
The moment I heard "Ha-o-mun," my mind reeled. Never imagined it'd rise like this.
'The Central Plains are a tangled web...'
There'd been a Ha-o-mun before, but Mongols smashed it for beggar scum presuming to form a sect. Its revival now? Heaven's decree, surely.
Characters differ, but a Ha-o-mun's a Ha-o-mun. Let's leave it at that.