The Censor Heads to the Provinces - 2: Kki-ing and Kki-ong Get Their Otherworldly Names
There was a brief hiccup where Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, having received those otherworldly names, refused to let us ride them for a moment. But soon enough, they humbly offered their backs. It seemed they'd come to realize their fate—that names aren't something you choose for yourself, but something others bestow upon you. Seeing their dejected looks made me feel a little sorry for them. If they were just ordinary deer, they wouldn't have to mope over something like names. Guess when animals get too intelligent, problems like this crop up.
'At least you're not Baduk-i.' Wait, or maybe Baduk-i would have been better than Kki-ing-i?
"Take care of me from now on, Kki-ing-a."
Kki-i-ing...
Still, I couldn't just toss aside the names the Evil King had given them. I patted Kki-ing-i's nape to comfort him, and he let out a mournful cry in a voice like he was on his last legs. Get used to it. They say the first-rate laugh even when they're sad. You've got what it takes to go beyond first-rate all the way to the Peak realm, as a spirit beast.
"My lord, we've arrived."
As I was consoling Kki-ing-i, Jo Wi-cheo's voice pulled my head up. A familiar building, a familiar signboard, a familiar atmosphere came into view.
'Been a while.'
We'd arrived at the Dochalwon offices—not exactly a place that filled me with joy.
"Alright, I'll go say hello, so rest nearby."
"Yes, my lord. Safe travels."
No sooner had I spoken than Jo Wi-cheo vanished with Kki-ong-i. Impeccable situational awareness. Lingering around me would just raise the odds of Jwa Do-eosa saying, "You come too."
'Isn't that a bit heartless?'
But from the perspective of the one left behind, I couldn't help feeling a bit miffed at his judgment. Hell... is less scorching when you go in together...
The moment I stepped into the Dochalwon, I drew stares like some fantastical Pokémon had appeared. I get it. A guy who's been touring the provinces would be a novelty sighting at headquarters.
'This is how it should be.'
The Left Deputy Censor-in-chief is supposed to be at the office. It doesn't make sense for a minister's advisor to be gallivanting around the countryside instead of the capital. What am I, a scout?
"Oh, Left Deputy Censor-in-chief."
"Greetings to Left Assistant Censor-in-chief."
Swallowing my inner tears, I headed to Jwa Do-eosa's office and ran into Jwa Bu-do-eosa coming out.
"Come to think of it, you said you were coming today. I'd forgotten for a moment, but seeing you like this makes me glad."
With his affable smile, Jwa Bu-do-eosa patted my shoulder and glanced toward Jwa Do-eosa's office.
"Fortunately, she's in a good mood today."
"My thanks for the valuable advice."
I returned his playful whisper with a smile and a cupped-fist salute. A superior's mood is everything to a bureaucrat. Luckily, I wouldn't get picked on for some nonsense today.
"Well, good luck. Doesn't seem like the right time today, so next time you come to Kaepyeong, I'll treat you in style."
"Looking forward to it, my lord."
I watched Jwa Bu-do-eosa's retreating figure, then resumed walking. Along the way, he'd casually treated my nationwide tour like it was the most natural thing—even he did—but I shoved it from my mind. The one sending me to the provinces wasn't him; it was Jwa Do-eosa.
'When's that woman finally gonna leave?'
Bitter thoughts. As a Proper Second Rank official, Jwa Do-eosa had slim chances of promotion elsewhere, and she was young among high officials, so retirement was even less likely. I'd probably switch departments before she ever left. If the abbot doesn't like it, the lowly monk's the one who goes.
"Left Censor-in-chief, ma'am. It's Left Deputy Censor-in-chief Han Un."
Of course, this Left Deputy spot was grandfather's doing, so I couldn't bail even if I wanted to. For now, I shelved my escape fantasies and spoke plainly.
"Come in."
A clear voice rang out from beyond the door. I'd been fooled by that voice and her looks at first, failing to see her true nature. Looking back, it's downright embarrassing.
"Yes, ma'am."
With permission granted, I opened the door to find Jwa Do-eosa with her long black hair haphazardly tied up, scratching her back with a dutiful son's hand.
'That damned...'
A deep surge of irritation welled up from the depths of my heart. She works me like a dog, yet here she is slacking off?
But recalling her cultivation realm quelled the anger in an instant. No point mouthing off in front of a master who suppresses even aging. Better not end up as Han/Dust.
The talk with Jwa Do-eosa wrapped up quickly.
"I'm planning to tighten internal oversight. No more just punishing those who've acted out—we'll pressure the uncooperative ones too."
Short didn't mean light. The court had always despised and shunned murim forces, true—but thanks to the founding emperor's edicts and the current emperor's policies, we'd avoided blanket oppression. We'd merely shattered the old taboo of officials not meddling in murim affairs, refusing to recognize the authority of sects and clans lording over locals as regional powers. That alone was a deathblow to murim, who'd lived high on the hog, but from the court's view, not branding them traitors and executing them was mercy. As I always say, the founding merits and court elders' loathing for murim runs bone-deep.
But that mercy's over. No longer content with sweeping away "rowdy parakho," the court would now smash "unpatriotic non-cooperators."
"A sudden shift like that will spark massive backlash. And even if they haven't neared real power, their networks and wealth over the years aren't to be ignored."
I'd opposed it at first. From touring the provinces and seeing things firsthand, murim's power couldn't be dismissed, regardless of the court's contempt. Their history—decades short, centuries or even millennia long—was their strength. Unless the court physically annihilated murim entirely, that foundation wouldn't vanish. Sure, they knew a full-court press would strip not just their honor but their assets too, so they'd behaved. But if the court truly meant to kill them? Facing death either way, would they still cower?
"No, the taboo's already broken, and we're short-staffed as it is. Change policy toward murim now, and it's not murim that dies first—it's the frontline bureaucrats!"
Crucially, the court suffered chronic manpower shortages. In the old days, we'd outsourced local security to murim, but now we handled even their subcontracted duties. As a field commander, I could vouch for it: ramp up murim suppression, and the bureaucracy crumbles first. Controlling the entire Central Plains perfectly? No one's ever managed that without going mad.
"If we smash them all, sure."
And fortunately, Song's higher-ups weren't the type to ram through mad edicts.
"Create sects that cooperate with the court. Show them there's profit in obedience. Make the common folk sing contempt for uncooperative sects and clans, and sow internal discord to prevent unity."
Divide and conquer murim, not exterminate. Simple enough. I'd braced for a full beatdown order.
'They can't even unite when merit's on the line.'
Mounting Kki-ing-i, I sorted my thoughts. Murim never united—not against Khitan invasions, Jurchen incursions, massive unorthodox surges, or Blood Cult uprisings. They'd grit their teeth against total annihilation, but show a path to compromise, and the backstabbing begins.
'If this goes well, it'll be a breeze.'
My heart raced. Success here means more court-aligned sects, squeezing out the rest, lightening the bureaucracy's load. No more nationwide tours for me, no shipping brats to Shanhaiguan or Guyongguan.
"Kki-ing-a, let's grind hard for a bit, then take it easy."
Kki-ing?
Stroking Kki-ing-i's antlers, he tilted his head like he didn't get it. He doesn't understand yet, but someday he will.
'Where to start?'
I had Kki-ing-i sniff out Kki-ong-i's location, then plotted my route. South of the Yangtze? Just did it recently—save for later. Frequent Dochalwon visits stress local officials sky-high. West? Light on murim outside parts of Sichuan, mostly pro-court sects from the founding war—no rush. Plus, starting west tangles the itinerary.
'North seems safe.'
That left the north. Dense with sects like Hang-san-pa, clans like the Pang and Yan families holding firm. Centuries as dynastic heartlands made it politically unignorable.
'Even in this era, Beijing's got its perks.'
Recalling Habuk's famous foods, I smirked. Wreck Habuk first, and other regions might bow smoothly. Like how the Namgung clan headed Anhui, Habuk's the Central Plains' head.
Primeval Lord, grant me today the grace to be a righteous disaster once more...
Kki-ing!
"Oh."
Soon enough, I spotted Jo Wi-cheo sharing dongpo pork with Kki-ong-i. A deer eating meat was odd, but hey, no booze. 'Drunken rampages would be a headache.'
Enforcer spirit beasts followed by drunken ones. Just thinking about it swells the chest with pride.