Off to the Island? - 2
Ever since that horrifying reply from the Left Censor-in-chief, every day felt like hell. I couldn't sleep even when I lay down, and food tasted like ash in my mouth. Taiwan is a no-go. I jittered my leg anxiously, then bit my lip. Taiwan—no, not Taiwan. I could grit my teeth and obey an order to go somewhere in the Central Plains, but sending me beyond its borders? That was impossible.
Of course, Taiwan had no proper nation of its own, so if Daesong stepped in, it would inevitably become part of our territory. But not yet, right? If I set the precedent of leaving the country, similar orders could come twice, three times over. My operations wouldn't be confined to domestic soil anymore.
Send an expedition without me—anyone but me. The thought slipped out unbidden. Mongols in the north? Haomun building its foundations? I didn't care. If the higher-ups in the capital decided, "We need to seize Taiwan to settle this," there was no arguing. Just spare me. I was fine with a thorough expedition led by local officials and Haomun's leadership—whatever the outcome, I'd accept it.
Discussions underway for a Taiwan expedition led by the Left Vice Inspector General and Haomun Leader. Remain in Tianzhou Prefecture until further instructions.
But this vicious central bureaucracy seemed dead set on dragging even an innocent like me to Taiwan.
Damn it all. Sinking into gloom, I slowly closed my eyes.
I'd secured a Chojeoljeong master from Taiwan, persuaded local officials to grant Jang Kang a manor, and even petitioned the Emperor for martial arts for the new Haomun. I'd done my part—surely that earned me an out. Yet the bigwigs up top apparently thought, "The one who started it should see it through."
- Buooo?
- Ppiaeak.
As frustration piled on relentlessly, making my leg bounce nonstop, Buong and Ppiaeak at my feet nudged my leg. More like a gentle nuzzle, really. As if fretting over my twitching limb.
"Sorry. That must've looked pathetic."
- Buooo~
- Ppiaeaaak!
Embarrassed, I scooped up Buong and Ppiaeak. They wagged their snouts and fins, letting out happy cries. If only the capital's elites worried about me even a tenth as much.
- Shiiiik.
- Sieeek!
- Shiuuuuk...
Soon, Samshik slithered up from my sleeve to my chest. Right—my Samshik was leagues better than those central fools. Grow strong and keep that pure heart forever.
Before the Left Censor-in-chief's next orders arrived.
"I'm thinking of heading to Taiwan myself."
"What?"
Jang Kang dropped a bombshell. Declaring he'd go to Taiwan even before the capital's discussions concluded.
"...Is there really any need to go right now? Haomun's a brand-new sect—its leader needs to stay put and solidify its position."
Shock froze my mind momentarily, but my mouth moved on instinct. Truth be told, I hadn't told Jang Kang about the central talks on a Taiwan expedition. No point stirring him up before it was official. Plus, unlike me—who'd bolt elsewhere without a standby order—Jang Kang would likely stick to Tianzhou long-term. So I'd kept quiet, never expecting him to volunteer.
"It's fine. I've handed sect duties to others, and I'm just idling around watching anyway."
He was admitting to slacking already, but it wasn't wrong. Martial prowess and administration were worlds apart. Jang Kang, raised amid discrimination and scorn in Taiwan, predictably sucked at bureaucracy. Retired officials among his disciples handled the real work. Jang Kang was more totem than leader.
Of course, his mere presence carried immense symbolic weight as Haomun's founder and embodiment of its cause. He could just breathe and fulfill his role. But breathing in Taiwan, not Tianzhou? That was problematic. He needed to loom over Haomun's front yard to make his impact felt.
"Something urgent?"
I asked point-blank. Was it truly so critical that Haomun's founder—its name and ideals personified—had to leave during foundation-building?
"Yes, my lord. Precisely because we're laying foundations now, I must go."
He nodded firmly, brimming with conviction. Hard to argue with that certainty. Jang Kang lacked admin skills and experience, not brains or insight.
"Compared to the Central Plains, Taiwan's tiny. But even there, building a nation takes everything you've got. My fellow mixed-bloods are scattered everywhere."
"I see."
His explanation clicked. Fair point. Taiwan seemed small only next to the Central Plains behemoth—it was plenty for a nation. History proved it: one rose after Ming's fall. So Taiwan had meaningful population, including mixed-bloods like Jang Kang. No way just a handful on island-sized turf.
"If I don't recruit now while Haomun's expanding, they'll be rolling stones later."
"Exactly."
I got it. Once Haomun solidified and mixed-bloods trickled in, they'd be freeloaders riding Jang Kang's coattails—no matter how you spun it. But now, in growth phase? They'd be founding members, comrades, not passengers. Smart for their future.
Can't stop him now. He'd built Haomun for the downtrodden. If he wanted to fetch his homeland kin, what right did I have to block it?
The only snag: if masses like him migrated to Tianzhou, he'd lack local backers for a future expedition. But...
By then, tout them as Taiwan natives. Just a minor issue, not fatal.
"...Sect Leader."
"Yes, my lord."
"Not just a trip—a triumphant return home. Let me gift you something. Come back safe."
"A gift...?"
He tilted his head, puzzled. Unsure if my "loaner" gift would cooperate, but for a Chojeoljeong master crossing seas in glory? Nothing better.
I woke at dawn and headed out to sea on the boat, as always. Honestly, venturing onto the ocean never sat easy. It was bountiful, swelling our catches—yet merciless, swallowing countless lives.
Deep down, I'd love to farm for a living. No risking death on waves, just tilling my own land—or even borrowed fields.
But I had no money for land, no one to lend it. People like me banded together, scraped by with one rickety boat, scraping survival.
I wonder how Brother Jang's faring. Mid-haul, thoughts of Brother Jang—who'd sailed for the Central Plains—drew my gaze north.
One life only? Might as well gamble. Better than this endless grind—new lands, new chances. That's what drove Brother Jang and his warrior followers.
I'd wanted to go too, but lacked the guts. Already wagering life daily on seas, yet crossing to unknowns? Terrifying. This harsh routine was familiar. New pains elsewhere? No thanks.
Guess this is my fate. I sighed inwardly. Complaining yet too cowardly to change—shameless to hope for better...
"What?"
"What's up? Spotted a whale?"
A strange shape afar made me mutter. Old Go beside me reacted.
"No, just... something out there."
I pointed subtly. His head turned.
"...What the hell?"
Soon, same reaction from him.
"It's getting closer."
"What is that? No fin, human-sized."
We stared, eyes trembling. Unseen before. Never moved that fast, nor reared so high. Unease gripped me. Ocean's unknowns rarely ended well. Bountiful and brutal, it tormented with novelties.
"You lot—what're you staring— what the...?"
"Fuck. Even a leaping shark'd be smaller."
Others joined our gaze. Crowding eased the dread a bit. If a deep-sea monster... killable with our numbers?
- Ppiaeaaak!
But a bizarre cry shattered overconfidence. Panic surged anew. Mid-ocean screamer—we're no match.
"Brothers! Been a while—how've you been?"
Despair yanked my head down—then up at the familiar bellow.
"Huh? Wha—?"
"Th-that's Brother Jang, right?"
"No way! Brother Jang's afloat on the sea!"
Not just me—everyone buzzed. It was him. Brother Jang, back from Central Plains. Floating, impossibly.
No... Closer look: he stood still. Something else moved. Golden gleam underfoot. Sparkling gold sliced subsurface.
- Ppiaaaaaak!
Whatever it was... turtle-ish? But turtles ferrying people? Screeching ones?