Hey, You Little Academy Bastards - 1
The plaque incident at Seokgosan Academy wrapped up without a hitch. Honestly, I figured we'd get chewed out for arbitrarily confiscating an imperial plaque and then reporting it, but who could've guessed we'd get blessings instead of a scolding? If the late Emperor in heaven saw this, he'd let out a sigh. 'Where'd my demotion go?' I ended up sighing too.
Ever since I'd inexplicably been promoted to third-rank, I'd been doing my damnedest to avoid further advancement. Hell, I'd even been hoping for a demotion from my current rank. But what the hell is this? If I don't get demoted even for ripping down a plaque without permission, what do I have to do to get busted down? Cuss out the Emperor? Nah, that wouldn't drop my rank—it'd drop my head. Not figuratively. For real.
'Bring the plaque... with me?' I double-checked the letter's contents. Not just hand it over to Hyeongju-bu—it was a brutal order to haul it all the way to Kaepyeong.
'That thing?' I stared blankly at Seokgosan Academy's plaque right there beside me. It was big. Not too massive to carry, but hardly pocket-sized. Of course, an imperial plaque wouldn't be dainty anyway—that'd be weirder.
Anyway, suddenly turning into a delivery boy made me burst out laughing. Why not just burn the damn thing? It's worn out anyway. If Seokgosan needs a new plaque, they can make one.
'Damn academy bastards.' My frustration at becoming Left Vice Inspector General Delivery Service twisted into rage at the academy. Those rotten fucks. If they hadn't gone corrupt—if they hadn't even denied learning itself—we might've just rotated the staff instead of yanking the plaque. But they were so far gone that we had to prescribe the extreme measure of plaque removal. So this is all their fault. Ugly, pathetic, degenerate worms.
'No guarantee it's just here, either.' Plus, Seokgosan is one of the four great academies. Meaning there are three more with similar prestige: Oengcheonbu Academy in Dongjing's Oengcheon-bu, Baeknokdong Academy in Gu-gang, and finally Akrok Academy in Jangsa.
Yeah, and Jangsa—the very place I'm headed—has one of the big four. One so prestigious that Zhu Xi himself lectured there for years, compiling Neo-Confucianism.
"Kkieak."
- Kki-eak?
"You might need to shine again soon."
I stroked Kkieak's head beside me. Oengcheon-bu is right next to Kaepyeong, treated like a secondary capital. No need for me to butt in—the Oengcheon-bu governor will handle the academy. Same reason for Gu-gang under Gi Gangwang's domain—he'll manage it. No need for the Left Vice Inspector General to stir shit up.
'Jangsa should be no different from Hyeongju.' But Akrok Academy in Jangsa has a high chance of being like Seokgosan. It's in the boonies like them, with no strong authority clamping down on the locals. There's a Pojeongsa there instead of a branch manager, but honestly, I doubt even he can fully rein in the stiff-necked locals and the prestige of a top-four academy. Best case, he's a smidge better than a branch manager.
"Looks like I'm in for some academy-busting."
I muttered while petting Kkieak nonstop. I can see it. The future. Seokgosan's plaque under my left arm, Akrok's under my right, me trudging along like some academy-plaque thief.
'...Report first this time.' I sighed and started walking. The Emperor let the act-first-report-later slide once, so propriety demands reporting first now.
'Can't avoid promotion just to end up quitting this life.' Even a merciful Emperor will snap "You insolent punk" if I pull unauthorized stunts twice. Probably in a way that endangers my neck and spine.
Actually, "report" is too fancy a word. Just send a letter saying Seokgosan went rotten, so I'll check Akrok on the way back to Kaepyeong. Done.
Suspecting academies of corruption is improper, yet ignoring precedent is unwise. The Left Vice Inspector General shall inspect Akrok Academy and follow heaven's will.
The reply came back surprisingly fast.
'Follow heaven's will.' If Akrok's gone rotten too, rip down their plaque with Kkieak? God, I hope Akrok's scholars are still upholding their duties properly. Hauling two plaques makes me look like a crazy-Confucian academy-smashing villain.
Before leaving Hyeongju, I left some fitting advice for the branch manager.
"Seokgosan no longer bears a lofty name, nor does it deserve official respect. Treat it according to principle and precedent, sir."
Meaning no more kowtowing to Seokgosan scholars and elites. The branch manager nodded, his face brighter than when we first met.
The imperial plaque was confiscated by the state. Having lost their plaque, even the stiff-necked locals won't dare complain if their kids get thrashed. They'll probably recall their brats from Seokgosan instead. Better that way. Only then will the worms clear out, letting true scholars flow in.
"Branch Manager."
"Yes, Left Vice Inspector General."
"I haven't watched over Hyeongju long, but I can see your rule brims with virtue and propriety. Without Seokgosan's misdeeds, it would be even more splendid."
"I have no words..."
"As it should be. No matter the noble name attached, you didn't turn a blind eye to injustice."
I chuckled at the branch manager's darkening expression. He might feel wronged. He only charged because I'm Giwangga's crown prince and Left Vice Inspector General—any ordinary official pulling that stunt gets assassinated. Who ignores the Emperor's name and local power players? Yet he's feeling shame and guilt instead of excuses. He couldn't help it, but admits his karma. Same when we met, and now after everything's settled.
'If he knows shame, he can change.' Confucius scolded the guy shitting in the road's corner but ignored the lunatic in the middle. The former has redemption; the latter doesn't. The branch manager's the former. Not even actively shitting—just passively.
"I pray righteousness joins your rule."
"I'll strive not to shame your mercy."
So may Hyeongju overflow with true scholars' virtue, not scholar-elite atrocities. No more commoner heartwarming letters like at the inn.
'Never got that grilled fish after all.' Come to think of it, the grilled fish Kkieak was eyeing. Couldn't reorder it. Kkieak seems fine with other food, but as owner, I feel bad.
Instead of heading straight to Jangsa, I detoured north of Hyeongju—to Hyeong-san.
- Kki-ing!
- Kki-ong!
The birthplace of our Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i.
"That happy about it?"
- Kki-ing! Kki-i-ing!
- Kki-ong~
They frolicked around Hyeong-san, letting out joyful cries at my question. It warmed my heart. I feed and rest them well usually, but mental satisfaction reduces pet stress too. Cherishing homeland is instinct for all animals, humans included. Wise spirit beasts value it more, not less.
"Man. They used to give me the chills back in the day, but seeing them again after so long? They're a delight."
Hyeong-sanpa's Jeong U-rok, rushing for welcome and guidance, smiled softly at the pair.
"That's human nature. Close, it's annoying; distant, you miss it."
"Indeed. You've taught me again."
Jeong U-rok nodded in understanding, watching their stroll with complex eyes. I get it. Even I shuddered tasting their Hyeong-san days; imagine Hyeong-sanpa enduring long-term. If not spirit beasts, they'd have been exterminated. Yet here they prance mildly—fur now pure white, unlike their wild days. Ideal spirit beasts. Minds can't stay unconflicted.
"If only they'd been like this from the start."
"Pfft."
I laughed at Jeong U-rok's sincere mutter. Yeah, exactly. If docile from day one, they'd rule Hyeong-sanpa—no, Hyeongju—with adoration. Not wandering the Central Plains like now. In a way, fierce adolescence drove them from home. Tragic.
'Back to Kaepyeong, I'll treat 'em right.' Beyond home kingship—to palace royalty.
Whatever the cause, they're kids who suffered wandering with me. They deserve to be treated that way.
"By the way, sir. Something odd at Seokgosan?"
"Yeah. Rumors spread fast."
"Hyeong-san and Hyeongju are neighbors. Plus, our warriors and their scholars have long been compared."
"Scholars, huh."
Apt term. Not true Confucian scholars, but ink-wielding literati.
"I figured they'd face reckoning someday, but not from the Left Vice Inspector General."
"I did nothing. The spirit beast handled it."
"Haha, right. I forgot for a sec."
Jeong U-rok laughed long, then sobered, cautiously adding,
"Then Akrok Academy gets spirit beast punishment too."
I bit my lip unwittingly. A Hyeong-sanpa warrior-daoist mentioning spirit punishment means Akrok's seriously fucked too.
'Damn it.' These damn academy bastards. What the hell are they doing?