Last Dance (Final) - 1
After mediating the land dispute at Yangminmun, no further incidents cropped up. In truth, we'd already wiped out a band of water bandits on the way here who were on the verge of human trafficking. For Yuju-bu, that meant two major events in quick succession: the bandit purge and the land dispute. Even if the dispute had been a joint setup between the local officials and Yangminmun, piling on another crisis now would be downright cruel. The bureaucrats here would drop dead from overwork.
"Thanks to you, Left Deputy Censor-in-Chief, the captured bandits will be transferred to Jiayu Pass. There, they'll wash away their wicked pasts and be reborn as true warriors devoted to the realm and its people."
Right before departing the peaceful Yuju-bu, I heard about the bandits' future from the Branch Manager.
Jiayu Pass. The name alone stirred a fond ache these days, nearly drawing a smile. It was also a fitting punishment for the water bandits, and I nodded instinctively in approval. The border with Wolnam was close by, and Shanhaiguan and Guyongguan bordered the civilized world. But Jiayu Pass? That was the back of beyond in remote Gansu. Perfect for criminals dreaming of human trafficking to reflect on their sins.
"Your wise decision is truly admirable, Branch Manager. From what I've heard, the Jiayu Commandant is a brave and righteous man—he'll turn those bandits into new people."
"I've heard of the Commandant's reputation myself. But seeing that even you trust him, Left Deputy Censor-in-Chief, confirms I chose well."
The Branch Manager let out a soft chuckle, then cupped his hands and bowed slightly.
"And because of this incompetent Branch Manager, innocent folk nearly lost their homes and suffered in agony. You've averted that disaster, so I can't thank you enough."
"Please, no more of that. Didn't I witness firsthand how you soothed the people? If you keep this up, I'll be the uncomfortable one."
From our first meeting, I'd said I wouldn't punish him over the bandits, yet here he was apologizing again as I prepared to leave. I shook my head lightly at him. It was regrettable that I had to handle the bandits instead of him, but not something to overly blame. Besides, as I just mentioned, he'd distributed the spoils to the people and managed the aftermath smoothly enough. He had faults, but merits too. Not enough to overly praise, but not to harshly reprimand either.
"Moreover, these past few days have shown me how capably you've governed Yuju-bu. I can't doubt your virtue over a single mistake."
On top of that, the Branch Manager had joined hands with Yangminmun via the investigation bureau. He'd actively used them as a card for smoother regional control—for his area's sake, the people's trust, and to suppress those resentful of officialdom. That alone spoke volumes about his administrative skill.
Leave him be, and he'll handle things just fine.
But I had no intention of leaving a capable official alone. Once in Gyerim, I'd mention him and the bureau once to the higher-ups; in Kaepyeong, twice. To ensure their swift promotions and block any early retirements. No ill will toward the Branch Manager whatsoever. The provinces needed competent bureaucrats to ease the capital's burden—and a relaxed capital meant a relaxed me.
"If it still weighs on you, use this as a chance to strive harder. Feel guilt not toward me, but the people—and ensure it never happens again."
"Words as precious as gold and jade from the Left Deputy Censor-in-Chief. I'll engrave them on my heart."
I returned his cupped hands as he bowed deeper. After all this, any lingering guilt or unease in his heart should be gone. If not, he'd keel over from stress anyway, the worrywart.
Yuju-bu lay between Namyeong and Gyerim, so the distance to Gyerim wasn't far.
"Oh."
"Wow..."
The moment we arrived in Gyerim, Ak I-yeon and I let out simultaneous gasps of awe. I'd sketched the hills in a drawing to send to friends back home, but no one believed it. The Prefectural Governor of Hobuk had described it in verse, but I'd chalked it up to poetic exaggeration. Poets turn every mountain into Tai Shan and every river into the Yangtze.
But Gyerim's scenery was uniquely, breathtakingly beautiful—hard to credit even seeing it. Nature straight out of a folding screen painting unfolded before us.
"Nature's wonders never cease. Even artificial hands couldn't craft something like this."
"Maybe it stays this magnificent precisely because human hands haven't touched it?"
"True. That makes sense."
I nodded instinctively at Ak I-yeon's words. Human creativity and craftsmanship are boundless, yet nature occasionally surpasses them. After all, nature wove this world with its own boundless hands.
If this weren't Guangxi, it'd be swarming with tourists.
Gazing at the winding river and soaring peaks, a pang of regret hit. North of the Yangtze, it'd draw crowds. Even Fujian or Hunan levels of accessibility would've sufficed.
...The river.
Amid it all, my eyes were already scanning the river's nooks and crannies. Rivers now triggered worries of lurking water bandits. Yuju-bu had them, so Gyerim couldn't be exempt.
Nothing in sight.
Thankfully, they weren't so common as to spot immediately. As a regional hub, surely no bandits—but I wasn't that naive. Even the Yangtze, which Gi Gangwang upended regularly, spawned them naturally. How much more in remote Guangxi? Bandits reemerged no matter how thoroughly purged. Wonders of nature, those bastards. Population doesn't grow on demand, yet bandits multiply despite suppression.
"Congratulations, young master."
"Hm?"
As I pondered the spontaneous generation of bandits and water bandits—perhaps earning a duke's title for solving it—Ak I-yeon beside me offered her congratulations.
"This is the last city, right?"
"Hah."
Her follow-up drew an uncontrollable burst of laughter. The last city. How sweet, how beautiful those words. When Jo Wi-cheo and I first left Kaepyeong, I never dreamed this day would come. Touring the entire Central Plains? Unthinkable. Yet here I was. I'd visited everywhere but Qinghai, met every regional king, even the Baekryeon Cult Leader holed up in Shiwandaishan.
I did it.
Gyerim was the end; return was nigh. I'd psyched myself up circling Guangxi with that mantra. But arriving here unleashed emotions words couldn't capture. Like standing the final watch before discharge—yearning to quit this damn job, yet feeling conflicted knowing tomorrow meant no more duty.
Not that I wanted more. I'm no lunatic.
"You've worked hard too, Inspector."
"My efforts pale compared to yours, sir. I merely followed your orders."
Jo Wi-cheo's humility nearly brought emotional tears. Without him, I'd have toured maybe 10% before collapsing in some inn.
Even back in Kaepyeong, we'll stick together for life.
Like Grandfather's aide Sip-roe, Jo Wi-cheo was mine. I'd raised him with utmost care—couldn't release him now. A peak realm master who quietly excelled at his duties. Foolish to let such talent go.
- Kki-ing?
- Kki-ong?
As I mulled gifts for Jo Wi-cheo upon our Kaepyeong return, Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i tilted their heads.
"What's up?"
- Kki-i-ing.
In response to my question, Kki-ing-i whined as if asking to be let down. Odd. She'd never requested to dismount first.
Something's off.
A sudden unease welled up. Samshik's weird hissing from my shoulder and head. I'd wondered why then, but it turned out he'd spotted Kkieak-i tailing us secretly. Spirit beasts' actions always had reason. Both reacting together meant no ordinary matter.
Damn it.
Frustration followed the dread. This was the last city. Just tour Gyerim, and the Central Plains pilgrimage ends. Why react now, at the very end?
Because it's last, you're tossing me a parting gift?
I cursed the heavens. No thanks for this "gift."
Once Ak I-yeon, Jo Wi-cheo, and I dismounted, Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i bolted somewhere. Baffling they'd abandon their master, terrifying what drew them. Was some monster or demon in Gyerim?
"Hm? White deer?"
"Where'd beasts like these come from..."
Following the pair at a distance, we spotted soldiers lounging at a cave mouth.
"What's going on?"
The situation screamed something inside, so I approached the soldiers—
"Halt! This area's under blockade by order of the Provincial Military Commander! If you're lost, we'll guide you—just don't come closer!"
They blocked us. Cold sweat beaded at the realization: this was beyond search; full control. And Provincial Military Commander? With the Provincial Commander stuck in Namyeong, he held Guangxi's top military authority. For him to personally order a blockade meant no small matter.
"I'm Left Deputy Censor-in-Chief Han Un."
Thus, I flashed my official badge. Rank-and-file soldiers might not know much, but grasping the situation came first.