Southern End - 3
Battlefields need strong warriors, and nations need wise scholars. I'm not saying we should disdain or discriminate against martial artists, but that's the reality. Why else would the Song Dynasty, which fell to the Mongols, embrace such extreme civilian rule? It was a measure taken after seeing the Tang Dynasty's downfall from unchecked generals' rampages, but the truth is, running a country requires wisdom, not just bravery.
In fact, when Liu Bang founded the Han Dynasty and ranked his founding merits, the top spot among his retainers didn't go to Cao Can, the fierce battlefield hero, but to Xiao He, who orchestrated the insane logistics from the rear. One minister even said, "One Xiao He is worth a hundred Cao Cans." Poor Cao Can ended up on bad terms with Xiao He after that "100 Cao Cans < 1 Xiao He" line stuck, but it drives home the point: for the nation's grand designs, civil officials matter more.
"The minister who enthroned the emperor." In that sense, the Do-yeon before my eyes was a talent I absolutely had to snag.
Do-yeon—Yo Gwang-hyo—was not only the advisor who helped enthroned Emperor Zhu, but also a scholar involved in compiling the Veritable Records of Taizu. They wouldn't entrust the records of the founding emperor to just anyone, which means Yo Gwang-hyo's brilliance extended beyond military strategy into administration.
"My lord?"
"Ah, sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment."
I must have been staring at Yo Gwang-hyo with way too much intensity, because he opened his mouth with a puzzled look. How embarrassing. Seeing a talent who left his mark on history just brings out this reaction automatically.
'Now I finally understand your intentions...' I silently apologized to Emperor Gaozu, who no longer walked this earth.
When I was young, I cursed Gaozu for twisting history, and after becoming a bureaucrat, I thought of him as a Pokémon master for scraping together every talent imaginable. How obsessively did he have to collect to gather all the named figures of the Central Plains back then? But Gaozu was normal. Anyone with foreknowledge of the future couldn't resist the urge to hoard talent—and fulfilling that urge was purely Gaozu's skill.
"It must not have been an easy decision to choose wandering for enlightenment, so I'm just amazed to meet a monk who made that choice."
I suppressed the creeping greed as best I could and continued. Now was the time to hide my admiration for Gaozu and my desire for talent. First, I needed to show Yo Gwang-hyo a positive side, whether he accepted office or not.
"It wasn't easy, but it was a path worth walking. If everyone takes the same road, they'll all reach the same enlightenment—but if I carve my own, I'll find my own."
"Indeed. That's one way to see it."
I nodded reflexively at Yo Gwang-hyo's words. Spot on. You have to act differently to get different results. Spend your life working like everyone else, and you'll collapse from overwork—but find people to share the load, and it's less grueling.
'You're thinking the same as me.' My inner affinity for Yo Gwang-hyo skyrocketed.
Saying something like that in front of a bureaucrat like me... No matter how I sliced it, it had to be an indirect application for office. Tough call. If I reeled in Yo Gwang-hyo, where should I send him? Start him slow in the provinces to build experience? Or thrust him straight into the capital to shine?
And if the capital, which department? 'Hanlim Academy to start?' Happy dilemmas. This must have been how Gaozu felt looking at Gu Gangwang, Dong-gu Wang, Nang-jung Wang, and Jung San Wang.
"Your cup's empty. Let me refill it."
"An honor, my lord."
I smiled contentedly, topping off Yo Gwang-hyo's empty cup. Naturally, we weren't drinking alcohol but tea. Forcing liquor on a monk like him would be cruel. Once he became a bureaucrat, though, I'd ply him with the world's finest vintages—no doubt about it.
Sipping the tea poured by the Left Vice Inspector General, I gathered my thoughts.
Even I, wandering the realm—no, precisely because I wandered and heard all sorts of tales—often came across news of the Left Vice Inspector General. The crown prince of Giwangga, destined to become Giwang himself. Unlike his martial grandfather and father, he walked the civil path, rising to rank three at a young age. Beloved by spirit beasts, he surveyed the realm's woes—a true future pillar of Great Song, one who would grow undeniable in ten or twenty years.
'To think I'd meet such a man here.' Truly astonishing and wondrous. Was it really thanks to last night's dream?
That dream was the most vivid and impressive of my life. An immortal descending on clouds from the heavens, beasts dancing around him. He petted each one, then turned his gaze to me and quietly extended his hand. That's where I woke.
Even as a Buddhist, how could I ignore such a dream? I'd have preferred Buddha over an immortal, but being chosen by one isn't commonplace.
'Whatever it is, it's a once-in-a-lifetime chance.' I still didn't know what kind. Enlightenment? Settling down? Forming bonds with the noble?
The Left Vice Inspector General's authority was so vast he could grant anything. That's why I accepted his dinner invitation without hesitation. Sharing tea with an ordinary man is karmic tie from past lives—how deep must the bond be with the Left Vice Inspector General?
"But Do-yeon, how long do you plan to keep wandering?"
"Who knows. As long as my body holds out, I'd like to take in the whole realm."
"That's not advisable. Touring the realm is fine, but pushing yourself at your advanced age will ruin your health. A sound body houses a sound mind, no?"
And with those words from the Left Vice Inspector General, I realized. This was Buddha's will: stop wandering, settle in one place. Pursue enlightenment, yes—but now stay put and spread your teachings.
'If that's Buddha's intent...' As a Buddhist, I couldn't defy a great guide's will. Truth be told, I'd wandered the Central Plains until reaching Guangdong. No more circling meant nowhere left to go.
"Haha, you're right, my lord. My spirit's still in its thirties, but my body won't keep up. I've been pondering whether to stop soon."
A lie. I hadn't given it a thought until yesterday.
"Is that so? What fortuitous timing."
But saying 'I was thinking the same' flatters the other a bit. With the Left Vice Inspector General poised to grant me great opportunity, I needed to show my best—
"You could walk the bureaucrat's path before your health fails completely."
"Pardon?"
The unexpected words drew an involuntary echo. Bureaucrat? I thought it was just settle down—stay at a temple? No, settle in office?
"Wouldn't a wise monk's enlightenment benefit the realm and its people? Use that talent as a bureaucrat, and nothing could please me more."
"Ah, yes..."
Strange logic, but I didn't argue. Contradicting a face brimming with satisfaction seemed unwise—what backlash might follow?
'A bureaucrat.' An unexpected pitch, but intriguing. Me, a bureaucrat? Starting under the crown prince of Giwangga and the Left Vice Inspector General's invitation.
'That'd be fun.' More exciting and chaotic than decades as a monk or passing exams for a standard career. Not bad. Another way to see the world, gain new insights.
My conversation with Yo Gwang-hyo ended satisfactorily.
"If you say so, my lord... it must mean you've seen talents in me I didn't know I had. A true honor."
Even with the sudden recruitment, Yo Gwang-hyo smiled and nodded. I suggested he stay at our inn tonight, promising to meet Chaozhou's branch manager tomorrow. Strike while the iron's hot to turn him from monk to bureaucrat.
Of course, I had no intention of dumping a named talent like Yo Gwang-hyo into Chaozhou. Send him to the capital, not some frontier, and put him to work. But I had to inspect the Yangguang region, so traveling with him was tricky. Hence, Chaozhou's cooperation was key—for safely delivering him to Kaepyeong.
'It worked.'
Watching Yo Gwang-hyo head upstairs, I leaned back in my chair. Meeting him was fine, but I'd never once opened my mouth to recruit anyone. When push came to shove, I had no idea what to say.
Then it hit me: Yo Gwang-hyo's historical path. A monk who joined Zhu's service and unleashed schemes galore.
'If he had no ambition, he never would've gone under Zhu.'
I judged that even as a monk now, Yo Gwang-hyo harbored desire for power. Who leaves such historical footprints without greed? So I went straight for recruitment—and it landed. As expected, he was intrigued by the bureaucrat's path, the road to power.
'Do good work, and I'll guarantee your rise.'
My lips curled up involuntarily. Yeah, if Yo Gwang-hyo lived up to expectations, I could guarantee him power. I might not fix my own fate, but reshaping one ex-monk's? Easy. Even groveling like a dog, I was still crown prince material.
The next morning, to formally capture the wild Yo Gwang-hyo, I headed to Chaozhou's branch.
"W-welcome... L-Left Vice Inspector General, my lord..."
The half-dead branch manager greeted me.
"...Are you alright?"
I asked sincerely. Forget welcomes—looking at him, I half-expected the branch manager to head straight to the afterlife.
"F-fine. Just... a bit of insomnia lately..."
He smiled through a face that screamed otherwise. Pity and unease washed over me at his wretched state.
'What now?'
What disaster had struck to leave the branch manager like this?