The Bitter Legacy of Hangsanpa
Hang-san-pa. One of China's Five Great Mountains, nestled in the peaks of Hang Mountain, also known as North Mountain. And this sect carries a sorrowful legend.
"Excessive concentrations of armed forces cannot be tolerated in a place where the Emperor resides. Hang-san-pa, you are to limit your numbers and report your personnel to the Bureau of Adjustments at regular intervals."
A poignant tale of being the first to suffer Mongol oppression, as a sect located in Habuk.
"From this day forth, the Five Great Mountains shall be managed by the Lamas. I will not order Hang-san-pa's expulsion, but you must respect the Lamas and cooperate actively."
A heartbreaking legend of a sect with religious overtones getting brutally thrashed by the Tibetan Buddhism that the Mongols had sucked up to.
"Drive out the Mongol fiends! Restore order to the world and save the grieving people!"
"Burn Hang Mountain to the ground! Subjugate these traitorous rebels who dare raise swords against the Emperor and prove the Mandate of Heaven is unshakable!"
So they joined the Ancestor's uprising faster than anyone, but their base was too close to the Mongol capital, and it burned to the ground. A tear-jerking legend indeed.
The Peng Clan, another murim force in Habuk, stayed silent due to their proximity to the Mongols. But Hang-san-pa, even closer, frothed at the mouth and rose up. As a result, they became the first example struck down by the berserk Mongols, losing their homeland of Hang Mountain and resorting to guerrilla warfare.
Even after losing Hang Mountain, Hang-san-pa's warriors refused to submit. Even after the sect was effectively wiped out, they kept fighting. Scattered across Habuk, they struck Mongol strongholds, relentlessly harassing the rear lines of Mongol armies advancing into the Central Plains, shaking their morale in real time.
After the war, these tenacious Hang-san-pa warriors finally returned to their long-dreamed-of Hang Mountain—but
"The Hang Mountain we loved is no more!"
The mountain they remembered no longer existed in this world. The first Mongol subjugation had burned everything Hang-san-pa owned to ashes. Not satisfied, the Mongols repeatedly devastated it to crush the guerrillas' spirits. Hang Mountain had long since become a barren land of death, unfit even for life to take root.
It's said the current sect leader—the eldest survivor of that first subjugation and commander of the Hang Mountain guerrilla unit—collapsed there and wept bitterly.
"Hang-san-pa's efforts for the realm were immense. The court shall spare no support for its reconstruction."
This tragic news moved even the founding merits who despised murim to pity. After all, they hated murim for staying silent during the Mongol war—but hadn't Hang-san-pa fought more passionately than anyone?
Yet their reward was total ruin? A homeland reduced to traces? With such an ending, who would fight for the realm in the future? Under this justification, the Hang Mountain reconstruction project was approved.
It started off well enough. The court was justly rewarding a sect that contributed to the founding, and the sect held hope of restoring their home with official aid. That lasted exactly three years.
"...This isn't working."
"We might as well buy another mountain outright. This is like pouring water into a bottomless jar."
The Mongols' scorched-earth policy on Hang Mountain mocked the efforts of both court and sect.
Three years. Two full military terms had passed. Despite massive funds and manpower poured in during the critical early founding years, Hang Mountain remained unrestored. Those mad Mongolians hadn't just razed a mountain—they'd erased it.
Thus began the bizarre staring contest between court and Hang-san-pa.
"We should just relocate."
"We should tell them to move somewhere else."
By then, both sides shared the realization: "There's no hope for Hang Mountain."
"After sucking up all this money, moving now feels..."
"After declaring unlimited support, telling them to move now feels..."
But pride prevented either from saying, "Let's just give up." Everyone knew it was hopeless, yet no one could voice surrender. A shy, chuckle-worthy standoff.
Hang-san-pa broke the silence first.
"How can we, who failed to protect Hang Mountain from the Mongol fiends, have the right to remain? We wish to relocate our base—please grant us permission."
Around the time the court began forcibly relocating murim forces, Hang-san-pa saw this as a legal escape and petitioned for approval.
"Hang-san-pa's faults are but dust; their merits, a mountain. The court's trust in you remains unchanged—speak not such words."
But the court was moved by their voluntary request. In an era of such murim hatred that forced relocations were underway, a compliant, meritorious sect asking to leave? It saved funds—yet tugged at the purse strings again.
"No! Why not make them move! They're volunteering to leave!"
Rumors swirled that the sect leader had a fit upon hearing this, but mere baseless gossip—likely slander from jealous rivals.
Afterward, Hang-san-pa abandoned their legal exit. They waited desperately for a miracle to revive Hang Mountain—or for the court to permit relocation.
And while enduring this as the price of fighting Mongols, they hated the Peng Clan—silent back then, now whining about their own relocation.
Yes, long story short:
"Lately, the Peng Clan's movements have been suspicious."
Hang-san-pa hates the Peng Clan.
"Even after His Majesty's great mercy, they refuse to repent."
A lot.
Enough to badmouth them the moment an official arrived for greetings.
What the hell is this?
Confusion. I'd planned a quick courtesy visit while passing by. No real business with Hang-san-pa, no ties to them.
But upon entering, I was dragged to the reception hall like I'd hit the jackpot.
"The Peng Clan's karma for ignoring the world's chaos is heavy, yet the Ancestor forgave them. If they had any shame, they'd spend their lives grateful for that vast mercy—what a pity."
Still dazed, I instinctively nodded along. The Peng Clan was indeed stirring, regaining strength. That's why I'd come to Habuk—to suppress them. Echoing a merit's hatred for them made sense; defending distant Pengs would be idiotic.
Arrogant bastards.
No reason to defend them anyway. With Hang-san-pa right next door, who in their right mind stirs?
"The Left Vice Inspector General is right. They wouldn't dare if they had shame."
The sect leader nodded brightly at my response. A bit overt in hatred, but I got it. He'd grown up leading guerrillas when he should have basked in masters' and seniors' favor—after losing Hang Mountain. Thus, deep resentment toward Mongols, and proportional hatred for silent murim. Especially local Habuk's Peng Clan, who ignored their fight.
"And this... it's not confirmed yet, but..."
After ranting about Pengs, the leader's face hardened. Sensing the main point, I straightened up. I knew they were stirring; I needed specifics—
"Word is, the Peng Clan is gathering saltpeter."
...
"Thank you for the valuable intel, Sect Leader. The court will never forget Hang-san-pa's dedication and cooperation."
I stood immediately.
"L-Left Vice Inspector General. It's not confirmed, as I said."
He even tried to stop my abrupt exit.
Not solid, sure. Could be rumor or rival smear. But saltpeter? Even whispers demand action—especially from a murim clan.
Saltpeter is court-monopolized, ours alone to store and distribute.
One of the few things keeping murim in check: gunpowder ingredients.
"Precisely because it's unconfirmed, we act. Clarifying truth is an official's duty."
"Without your tip, we'd hear it late. Thanks again for Hang-san-pa's cooperation."
Bowing politely, I left the stunned leader nodding blankly.
I bypassed Peng territory straight to Beiping Jian Tian Fu.
Beijing in my past life, capital of the Mongol Yuan. When the Ancestor seized it, he declared the world righted—hence "Jian Tian," Build Heaven. Habuk's political, economic, military hub.
"We've confirmed intel the Peng Clan possesses saltpeter. Authorize troops to verify."
"We'll prepare swiftly. Anything else?"
"At least five cannons. And include one super peak expert."
Upon arrival, I requested forces from the Regional Commander to pressure the Pengs. If true, they'd become an extermination army.
They probably don't have it.
No way they'd be that insane. But it doesn't matter. Saltpeter rumors alone justify crushing them—and missing this legal chance defies official duty.
Of course, overdo it and we risk a monopoly; tread the line carefully.