Last Dance - 4
Yangminmun's manor lay on the eastern outskirts of Yujubu. When the branch manager first told me its location, my only thought was, 'Their expansion speed is insane.' But in hindsight, I should have sensed something off right then. 'A newly rebuilt sect wouldn't have the funds to buy a manor.'
No matter their past glory, the current Yangminmun was a fresh-faced newbie, barely reformed after decades of dormancy. They couldn't possibly be flush with cash. Yet they'd pushed beyond Geomjubu into Yujubu—and not just with a modest outpost, but by securing a full manor. More telling than their rapid growth was how they'd managed to snag this property. 'Looks like they're getting solid backing.'
A fledgling sect exploding like this could only mean one thing: official protection. Not mere tolerance or lip service, but active support with deep pockets.
'Can't blame them—Yangminmun's useful for keeping things smooth in Gwangseo.' It made perfect sense. Gwangseo was dotted with ethnic enclaves unlike the mainstream Central Plains folk, like in Geomjubu or Yujubu. Yangminmun had mediated those conflicts, earning respect across the region—a legacy even today's bureaucrats knew well.
Tragically, they'd collapsed decades ago, leaving officials to handle tribal disputes with pure bureaucracy. Then Yangminmun rose from the ashes? No doubt the locals wept tears of joy and threw their full weight behind them. With Yangminmun around, the minorities stayed in line.
But the support didn't stop at funding, it seemed.
"Per Lord Juyoung's request, we shall commence mediation on the land dispute between Lord Juyoung and Lord Seongbukyeong."
The moment we arrived at their eastern manor, a crowd filled my view. Opposite them sat a middle-aged man like a judge, with a real official in robes right beside him.
'They even handed over judicial authority?'
I couldn't help a chuckle at the sight—not a private mediation, but a full trial with an official present. I'd assumed Yangminmun's "judgment" meant civilian arbitration between commoners. Instead, it was the real deal, complete with bureaucratic oversight and advice.
'Because of their reputation?'
Walking on foot instead of riding Kki-ing-i, I went unnoticed and observed quietly. This case involved a land dispute between two men of different ethnicities—a headache for the authorities no matter the outcome. Even a fair ruling could spark cries of bias and tribal backlash.
Enter Yangminmun, the ultimate shield. Decades of silence hadn't dimmed their status as Gwangseo's heroes and icons. Everyone knew their history of bridging divides, ending in total annihilation for the people. Dissent against their impartial verdict? Social suicide—worse than griping at the government.
'Not bad.' A smile crept over me as I pieced it together. Yangminmun absorbed the parties' fury, while officials lent authority and expertise to the ruling. On the surface, Yangminmun's trial; in reality, the state's. No grounds to intervene here. Handing full judicial power to civilians would be reckless, but this was just a clever facade for smoother justice.
Fools might buy the ruse, but fellow officials falling for it? Unacceptable.
"All land under heaven belongs to His Dignified Majesty the Emperor. Yet by His boundless grace, like the vast sea, we are granted the right to till His lands—and pass that right to our heirs."
Even Yangminmun's verdict dripped with bureaucratic phrasing. The official beside them wasn't just advising; he was probably drafting it for the disciple to read aloud.
"Having received this merciful and generous right, we must clearly delineate its ownership."
The Yangminmun disciple spoke calmly, while the sharp-eyed official scanned the crowd beside him.
'Ah.'
Our eyes met. His twitched—he recognized me.
'Quiet.'
I pressed a finger to my lips, signaling no fuss. He nodded ever so slightly. One slip, and the whole crowd would've swarmed me.
I slipped out during the trial. Obvious as it was that he was watching for me, what choice did he have? With the Left Vice Inspector General lurking, only a lowly county magistrate could focus. For the trial's sake, I had to vanish.
About half a shichen later, the crowd poured out.
'It's over.'
Leading them was the inn-ranting man from before, now beaming. He'd clearly won. Made sense—the challenger claimed pre-war ownership, before Daesong's founding, no less. Silent for decades, then piping up now? Officials wouldn't side with that. Better to back the current holder, especially after generations from father to son.
'Time to head in.'
The manor quieted, so I stepped inside. I'd willed Yangminmun's revival myself; meeting them away from home warranted a friendly greeting. Plus, that official might fret over our eye contact. Post-Namnyeong incident, I needed to seem approachable to other bureaucrats. Excess fear tarnished my rep.
"Greetings to the Left Vice Inspector General! I am Yi Won-gyeong, county magistrate of Yujubu!"
"Good to meet you. Must've startled you with my sudden appearance, yet you pressed on admirably without falter."
"Merely borrowing Yangminmun's strength for fairer, more compassionate justice! This humble one did nothing—only shame and embarrassment remain!"
I chuckled at the magistrate's eager shout the instant I entered. I already knew he was the ghostwriter behind Yangminmun, like some Go master.
"If you say so. But wielding others' aid at the right moment is skill in itself. No need for excessive humility."
"Words like gold and jade from Your Excellency! I shall engrave them on my heart!"
I patted his shoulder as he bowed nearly to the ground, then turned to the approaching Yangminmun disciple.
"I am Gangyang, disciple of Yangminmun."
His dazed expression matched the magistrate's absurd bend toward 120 degrees, but he snapped to a proper salute upon hearing "Left Vice Inspector General."
Of course, a new face. The only Yangminmun I knew was their leader, Sajian.
"Never dreamed I'd see Yangminmun in Yujubu. An unexpected pleasure, but I'm glad you're cooperating so well with the authorities."
"You overpraise me. How dare a subject of His Majesty speak of 'cooperating' with officials? We merely strive feebly for the Emperor and the branch lord."
He responded with polite ritual to my smiling greeting. Satisfactory. More sects this government-friendly benefited realm and people alike. Reviving Yangminmun was the right call... wasn't it...?
"...Gangyang, was it?"
"Yes, Excellency."
"That guy over there. Why's he still hanging around?"
I pointed behind Gangyang. The magistrate and disciple glanced back.
The dispute loser—the pre-war claimant who should've stormed off fuming. Yet there he was, strolling the manor freely.
"Ah."
"Him, you mean?"
They exchanged awkward glances at my question.
"Truth is, he's on our payroll," the magistrate whispered.
"Payroll?"
I reflexively questioned—what was this?
"He joined as 'Seongbukyeong,' but his real name's Seongmun. No ancestral land here—never even lived in Yujubu."
Confusion deepened.
"Faked identity, faked story to spark the dispute. That way, the real owner petitions Yangminmun, they rule cleanly, and no one gripes—since the land's got zero ties to him."
"Why go to such lengths...?"
"To set precedent: Yangminmun delivers fair verdicts, even in thorny cases, with no backlash. We needed that proof."
Plus, Juyoung had tax friction, so they seized the chance to rein him in, the magistrate added. I stared blankly at them.
'Local savvy at work.'
Admiration welled up. I'd expected officials hiding behind Yangminmun's banner for trials, but staging a fake dispute for precedent? Genius. And targeting a delinquent taxpayer amid the chaos? Masterful. Only deep local knowledge made it possible.
"Impressive."
"You overpraise."
He bowed again at my sincere praise. Disciplining a tax dodger while paving the way for Yangminmun's future rulings? Even if staged, the results justified it fully.