Enforcing Discipline in Jiangnan - 5
Jiangnan punches above its weight despite its faint reputation. The Huai River, third in scale only to the Yangtze and Yellow River, cuts through its heartland, while the Yangtze itself brushes the south, making water transport extraordinarily advanced. It used to suffer greatly from water bandits coveting that traffic. The Yellow River does graze northern Jiangnan too, but it's too temperamental for reliable shipping—and every few centuries, it decides "I hate it here" and changes course all by itself. Best to pretend it doesn't exist.
Anyway, thanks to this vast river network for transport, expansive plains, and development stretching back to antiquity, Jiangnan has symbolized abundance in times of peace and become the prime target for every faction in chaos. "Too prime, that's the problem." Unfortunately, the Central Plains never lets turmoil end cleanly. Which means Jiangnan has been stripped bare time and again. In fact, doesn't it carry the heavy image of being the stronghold for some battle-obsessed Emperor Heng, or the site of a grand campaign by a eunuch grandson with a taste for married women? A tragic place that fades into obscurity in peace but draws all eyes in war.
And after repeated purges in those wars, Jiangnan lacks any force worthy of being called a powerhouse or overlord. Any group that tries to root itself gets swept away on a regular cycle. It's weirder if one survives. "Damn this chaotic world."
But wonder or no, as someone who needs to sort out Jiangnan's sects and clans right now, it's a headache. Unlike the Nangong clan in Anhui, where I could just take out the head and run, this is a fatal snag.
Given the Central Plains' absurd population, crushing them one by one is a last resort. Nor is targeting the "relatively" big players wise. If it's a clear overlord like the Nangongs, fine—but smash an ambiguous mid-tier, and you get minimal results while elevating it to "official overlord of Jiangnan, sanctioned by the court." That's trouble. Our policy is to suppress the martial world, not nurture it. No need to look far; Grandfather would grab his loving rod first.
"Any good ideas?"
"My apologies, but I'm ill-suited for strategy."
His brazenly honest reply left me speechless for a moment, but I recovered quickly. Right—a peak realm master on the cusp of super peak doesn't need brains. Mastering both pen and sword is rare.
"...What if we invite the major sects to one place? Instead of us going to them, make them come to us—far easier, no?"
Not a bad idea, even if he was embarrassed not to answer his superior's question outright. Summoning local powers and laying out terms is an ancient, time-honored method.
"True, but they're all so evenly matched, inviting one means calling everyone."
As I've said, Jiangnan's forces are all middling. Invite A, and B complains; skip C, and D sulks. Whatever benchmark, the whole lot comes tumbling in.
...Ah.
'We just need to avoid going ourselves.'
Jo Wi-cheo's words sparked a great idea. Can't gather them all? No need to visit each either.
"Wi-cheo."
"Yes, sir."
"Head to Suzhou first."
Suzhou, Jiangnan's hub. Everything sorts itself there.
The Daoists of Mount Mo prioritize self-cultivation over worldly ties, merging with nature—that is the fate of those pursuing the Way.
Even Mount Mo Sect has descended for the realm's stability and the people's joy, but once chaos ends, they return to the peaks, distancing from the world. We descend merely to practice our Dao, not to impose our will.
Of course, self-sufficiency fails with many on the mountain. They visit nearby cities for essentials, returning swiftly after.
Today, descending to sell mountain crops and buy supplies, we saw something unprecedented.
'What the hell?'
Hundreds of cavalry at the fore, thousands of infantry and archers behind. Dozens of cannons easily surpassing thirty gates. A massive force marched with flags high—nothing commonplace.
'Rebellion?'
Even that crossed my mind. Had Jiangnan rebelled while we crafted talismans? Rebels or suppressors?
"E-excuse me."
Trembling, I approached a bystander amid the grand procession.
"Eh? A Daoist?"
"Y-yes. From Mount Mo."
The local's blank stare turned friendly.
"Aigoo, to meet a Mount Mo Daoist in my lifetime! An honor!"
Our masters', seniors', and juniors' deeds and sacrifices earned the people's respect. Pride bloomed; I smiled faintly, bowing.
Proper courtesy for such welcome.
"But what brings a Daoist to ask a wretch like me...?"
"Just a quick question."
I glanced back at the marching troops; he nodded knowingly.
"A bigwig from the capital came! Inspecting local troops, and word is armies are patrolling other regions too!"
"From the capital?"
"Yes! Something like... Left... Vice Censor... yeah, around there!"
'Left Vice Censor-in-Chief.'
The news shook me. Mount Mo shuns the world, not knowledge. We knew Giwang's grandson held the post, touring the realm lately. Didn't expect Jiangnan.
'But why the army...'
Even stranger: mobilizing and marching Jiangnan's forces. Censors inspect, but not like this?
"Thank you kindly. My doubts are cleared."
"Kind? Just idle chatter I knew!"
His waving eased my confusion. What matter if the censor deploys troops? We live quietly on Mount Mo.
Back at the sect, I told Eldest Senior Brother.
"Oh, that? A show of force against Jiangnan's sects and clans. But he affirmed no harm to us, remembering Mount Mo's devotion."
"...What?"
I'd heard what I shouldn't.
Show of force? Against all Jiangnan sects and clans?
"Suddenly?"
"Why need reason to curb the martial world? Big scale this time, but nothing special."
His casual tone confused me more. If this isn't special, what is? Cannons firing directly?
He chuckled, patting my shoulder at my reaction.
"Don't fret. We're founding merits who aided the Song's rise; others aren't. To the court, they're ungongsin armed groups lingering. Natural to suppress."
"Ah, yes..."
Made sense that way. History shows even unifiers purge military gongsins—what of unaffiliated civilians? Surviving this long is the miracle.
Leverage point: if you can't reach them, make them see you.
'Power's for times like this.'
I nodded satisfied at the patrolling troops. Left Vice Censor-in-Chief and royal blood outrank a division commander. Mobilizing thousands is trivial.
The regional commander handles Jiangnan troops, so unauthorized moves risk awkwardness—but explaining as martial suppression got him eager, adding elites, peak masters, even cannons.
'Didn't plan on cannons.'
I scratched my neck at the fifty-plus guns. Original plan: regular infantry patrols. He insisted on more: warriors, peaks, artillery. Tomorrow: ships on the Huai, synchronized barrage.
'If they defy this, I'll salute their guts.'
Any rebels amid this get razed by thousands and dozens of cannons. Fortunately, no parakho defied yet. No powder wasted; relief.
"Sir."
"Yeah?"
"A letter from Ak Wang."
"Huh?"
Turning, Jo Wi-cheo offered a scroll, messenger pigeon on shoulder. Odd—he never wrote during my duties, save from the capital.
Ak Wang Ak Hyeon-i inquires of Giwang's grandson Han Un.
Are you well?
The Anhui incident was most satisfying. A loyal courtier punishing brazen parakho delights the realm.
Now laboring in Jiangnan for the world's peace, your young patriot's devotion moves me.
...Do not go to Shandong; return to Kaifeng. Shandong falls under Ak Wangga's sway; we'll handle it.
Upon return to Kaifeng, come straight to me. How can you be so neglectful to your fiancée? Do you not hear Yeon-i weeping for her husband?
My hand trembled at the return order post-Jiangnan—home at last. Not official from Left Censor-in-Chief, but Ak Wang's word suffices.
But the finale drew a wry smile. This granddaughter-obsessed fool summoned me for her.