Last Dance (True Finale) - 2: Hyeongju Prefecture
Hyeongju-bu. It shares the name with the Jingzhou from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, but it's a different place—a city called Xiangyang in the 21st century. Second only to Zhangsa, the heart of Hunan Province, it's the key hub of southern Hunan. Located south of Mount Hyeong, the homeland of Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, it's the center of waterborne transport.
'Back here again, huh.' As soon as I set foot in Hyeongju, a smile crept onto my face unbidden. A distant memory now, faded with time. After performing the rites at Aishan with the Baekryeon Cult Leader, we'd passed through here on our way north. And now, after circling the entire Central Plains, I'd returned to Hyeongju. With no particular business, just a light heart. A peaceful mind, free of incidents.
'What a beautiful city.' I felt like I might even tear up. Back then, hounded by Jwa Do-eosa, I hadn't noticed Hyeongju-bu or anything else. But with some leisure now, so much came into view. Honestly, having toured all the famous sights of the Central Plains, nothing particularly stood out about Hyeongju-bu. Lots of boats since it's a transport hub, but not more than in Hangju.
But who cares. Right now, Hyeongju is the finest city in the Central Plains. Heaven above, Hyeongju on earth. That's my decree starting today.
- Kki-ing.
- Kki-ong.
Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i sniffed the air and let out clear, bright cries. The grassy scent of northern Mount Hyeong must carry even here to Hyeongju.
"Feeling good to be home?" I stroked their heads, and they eagerly rubbed against my hand, expressing their joy.
Any living being yearns for its homeland. Just like me, thrilled at the thought of returning to my beloved Kaepyeong. These two are no different.
- Kkieak.
While I shared this affection for home with the two white deer, Kkieak, toddling along beside me, lightly pecked my arm.
"What's up?"
- Kkieak.
Then it pointed its beak at an inn. I could guess what it wanted and chuckled. Into the city, so let's eat first, huh.
'Lucky it eats anything well.' Kkieak, deprived of its staple poisonous herbs and bugs, devours whatever's around. Hooked on tangerines one day, dongpo pork the next—no pattern to its favorites. A blessing as its owner. If it were picky, I'd be in trouble, but it devours anything but poison.
Ironic for a former poison bird.
"Alright. No plans anyway, so let's have a drink too."
- Ppiae!
Ppiae stirred in my bosom at the word "drink." A gluttonous poison bird for food, a booze-loving millennium turtle. What an lineup—what a marvel. Where did I gather all these spirit beasts?
The inn's food was surprisingly high quality. I'd thought Kkieak picked randomly nearby, but maybe it was the good smell?
'A walking Michelin guide.' Watching Kkieak crunch a whole grilled fish filled me with quiet awe. Come to think of it, everything it'd touched was top-notch. Fruits bursting with sweetness, ingredients fresh and prime. Seems indiscriminate, but actually a gourmet.
'Just keep Kkieak around, and I'll never eat badly.' Dining in unfamiliar territory is a gamble. No one knows if that precious meal will be worthwhile until it's served. But if Kkieak vets it beforehand, it's a sure win.
Wish I'd met it sooner, near the end of my Central Plains tour.
- Kkieak?
Sensing my gaze, it tilted its head, so I nodded at the empty fish plate.
- Kkieak!
It flapped its wings in delight, warming my heart. But isn't the excitement a bit much? Anyone would think I was starving it. I spend more on your three days' meals than my monthly food budget.
"Excuse me, sir."
I was about to order more—dogs don't bother you while eating, after all—when the waiter approached first. Good food and sharp service. What a fine inn. Even back in Kaepyeong, I'd remember this place—
"I'm truly, truly sorry, but could you possibly move to another seat?"
Now it'd be unforgettable for a different reason.
"...Move seats?"
I echoed the unexpected request. Did I hear right? Ask me to move?
'Ah.'
I scanned the inn. Maybe we took too much space for our group, and big customers needed it. If so, I'd happily shift.
'Nope.'
Our spot was a bit large, but bigger ones existed. No need for us to move. And no big group anyway—just four tables including us.
"Odd request. Moving mid-meal is unpleasant. Any reason I must?"
The waiter glanced around nervously before whispering.
"Truth is, the scholars from Seokgosan are coming soon. They like wide-open seats in the center..."
"Seokgosan?"
Familiar name—I racked my brain. "Yes, sir. Home to Seokgo Academy."
'Ah.'
Now I remembered, since he said academy, not mountain. One of the Four Great Academies, named by the Northern Song Emperor. Survived Mongol rule decently, then soared post-Daesong revival. Local elites send kids there across Hyeongju and Hunan.
'These bastards.'
But they weren't just studying. Proper scholars living in harmony with nature wouldn't prompt this. Maybe excessive deference to them, but the waiter's flickering eyes said otherwise—not goodwill.
Crucially, he'd seen my attire and beasts. Even without rumors of "Left Vice Inspector General in black robes with spirit beasts," I clearly screamed high official or noble blood.
Yet he asked me to yield. Local scholars scarier than distant VIPs. Bureaucrats come and go; scholars linger years, decades.
'How much hell have they raised?'
A sigh escaped. What had these scholars done to terrify the waiter? Beyond freeloading or drunken brawls.
"Waiter."
"Y-yes, sir."
"Scholars pursue endless learning and practice it for realm and people. What do you think of Seokgosan's?"
Straight question; he bowed silently. Other patrons chewed quietly, watching. I got the picture. Seokgosan scholars' caliber.
'Time for a purge.'
Rage boiled. I understood intellectually—groups stagnate over time, especially privilege hubs like an emperor-named academy elites crave. But understanding ≠ tolerance.
Local thugs rampaging? Bad enough. Academy scholars? 'How dare they.'
Seokgo Academy's name from Northern Song Emperor. Daesong reveres both Songs' emperors as ancestors, founder as Gojo, not Taizu—Song already had Emperor Taizu Zhao Kuangyin.
Scholars forgetting duty tarnish the emperor's name. Overinterpretation? Tough. Don't cross my radar then.
'Dare ruin my rest?'
Worse: jobless nobodies ruining Left Vice Inspector General's first peace. Not even fellow officials—rampaging idlers.
'Smashing them is justified.'
Don't hold back, inner Confucius. This is righteous for emperor's honor and people's peace.
I stopped eating, staring at the entrance. After several bows toward the man, I retreated as quietly as possible.
"What'd he say?"
The innkeeper uncle, holding his breath, whispered. I nodded slightly; he sighed in relief. Without patrons, he'd have cheered.
'I'd have too.'
I suppressed a twitching smile. Finally, time to deal with those damn fools.
Hyeongju's a top city in Hunan, near Seokgo Academy—people come and go, rumors spread. Even heard of Left Vice Inspector General in black robes with spirit beasts.
Don't know exact role, but sky-high, scares officials.
'Definitely bigwig.'
Spotted him, innkeeper and I decided with eye contact: report everything. Heaven-fearing terror to local officials. Past locals protected Seokgosan, no help. But he's outsider—can topple anything annoying.
'Screw you bastards.'
Think you're all that as scholars? This guy's elite official! You tried stealing his seat!