Even Bureaucrats Deserve a Break - 4
The moment I laid eyes on Jwa Do-eosa's letter, a long-dormant childlike impulse stirred deep in my chest. 'When was the last time I made a paper airplane?' This ominous, dreadful missive—I wanted to fold it into one right then and there and send it flying far away.
Thankfully, it wasn't from the Emperor, but from my direct superior, the Left Censor-in-chief. If it's not from the realm's supreme sovereign, a little damage or even "misplacement" should be fine. Or no—should I just feed it to Kki-ing-i or Kki-ong-i? It's written on paper from the Dochalwon's top minister, so the quality's decent enough. It'd make a nice snack for the white deer.
'Damn you, murim bastards.'
With that bit of denial wrapped up, I sighed and double-checked the letter's contents.
Hubei and Hunan—the region commonly called Huguang, once known as Jingzhou in the Three Kingdoms era, a vital transportation hub and treasure trove of resources. Hubei especially borders Zhili directly, boasting considerable prosperity. And when a place is both conveniently accessible and abundantly rich, people naturally flock to it. Thanks to that, Hubei has one of the largest populations in all of Daesong.
It's no wonder Yangyang Wang is stationed there, even though it's not a border region.
'Not just because of the population, though.'
Where there are many people, there are interests at stake; where there are interests, there's plenty to skim off the top. That's why Hubei has long been a playground for all sorts of murim factions gathering from the past. No matter how nicely they dress it up, murim groups are fundamentally interest-driven organizations at their core. They worm their way into places with profits, stake their claim, and absorb those interests one by one through force.
That was the old murim back in the days when the government couldn't touch them. Fortunately, after Daesong's founding, the majesty of imperial authority stabilized even Hubei. But right now, Daesong faces its greatest power vacuum since the nation's birth.
With hundreds of thousands of troops headed north, no matter how thorough the preparations, domestic unrest is inevitable. Even Yangyang Wang, the top enforcer for Hubei-Hunan, has gone north.
'But I didn't expect the trouble to erupt this soon.'
It was frustrating and bizarre. I'd anticipated some unrest with the elements keeping murim in check all diverted north. Yangyang Wang, the enforcer for Hubei-Hunan; the merit sect Wudang; the locally influential Je-gal family, cooperative with the court. With all three headed north, perfectly controlling Hubei's murim—little more than a demon's lair? Honestly, expecting that would be shameless.
Even before the war, Hubei and Hunan were places where trouble flared up whenever you forgot about it. But this? No.
How long has it been since the expeditionary force departed? How long since the chains controlling murim vanished? And already this mess explodes—not something local officials can handle, but enough to draw the Left Censor-in-chief's attention.
'Could it be the water bandits?'
I even thought that far. With Gi Gangwang, who used to crush the water bandits, gone north, it must feel like a gift from heaven to those naturally spawning along the Yangtze everywhere. If they linked up with Hubei-Hunan murim forces, it could've been a colossal disaster.
Of course, I'm not saying the murim factions have allied with the water bandits. There are occasional mad murim groups that join hands with river pirates or mountain bandits, but those crazies were cleaned out long ago in joint operations by the court, Wudang, and Je-gal.
At worst, it's probably just clashes between deranged water bandits and Hubei-Hunan murim forces. That's why it's all the more confusing. Martial clashes among sword-wielders are a hassle, sure. But not enough to warrant Dochalwon's interest.
'What the hell is going on?'
In the end, I roughly folded the letter and tucked it into my bosom. Racking my brains in Kaepyeong all day wouldn't change a thing. The missive from Jwa Do-eosa only mentioned unrest breaking out—no specific incidents listed.
Which meant, to grasp the full situation and resolve it, I'd have to go there myself.
The obvious conclusion left me sighing in abject defeat.
'At least Hubei is close—' Before that self-deluding thought could finish, I slapped my own cheek hard.
You masochistic slave. The issue is the damn business trip itself—close or far doesn't matter. Besides, while Zhili and Hubei border each other, Hubei's sheer size rivals a whole country. It's practically like traveling to another nation.
…
'Still, better than Beukhaebinggung or Guyongguan, right?'
I shouldn't think like that, but the notion that "Hubei should be manageable" kept creeping in. I was starting to scare myself. My sense of distance was completely wrecked from that brutal Central Plains pilgrimage.
— Buooo?
'Ah.'
Startled by the sound of my self-slap, Buong came trotting over from where he'd been rolling around in the rear garden, playing.
Sorry. It's because of your worthless master.
Excavating the tombs of Huainan Wang and Seochopaewang. Breaking through the Mongol steppes to contact Beukhaebinggung. Visiting Guyongguan to confirm the Four Evils' involvement. And now checking disturbances among Hubei-Hunan murim forces.
"Gaga, didn't you say that once we got to Kaepyeong, you'd stay put here?"
Even the ever-gentle and tolerant Yi Yeon was voicing doubts amid this relentless string of assignments. And with those sad eyes, while carefully stroking her belly that held our child.
Guilt and despair surged to the heavens at the sight.
With a newlywed wife who's even pregnant, gallivanting across the country—what kind of rotten luck is this?
"I thought so too, but things just... snowballed like this. Seems they think since I've been hopping around everywhere, I'm best suited for it."
I offered an excuse that was more lament than defense, heavy-hearted.
I knew it. In moments like this, cold facts don't matter—warm empathy and apologies do. At least verbally, I should raise my voice and firmly refuse such cruel, vicious trips.
But even acting has its limits. Coming from a guy who's already done back-to-back trips, how convincing would that be?
"Sorry. I want to turn it down too when I can, but if it's coming down to me, it must be no ordinary matter."
So instead of excuses, I apologized sincerely and persuaded her with sincerity. The Emperor isn't someone with personality flaws, at least. Jwa Do-eosa might have issues, but she knows her boundaries. She wouldn't spin me like a top ignoring my honeymoon status.
Yet deploying me to Hubei-Hunan means there must be good reason.
"Plus, it's Hubei of all places. Unrest there endangers Zhili, and if Zhili shakes, Daesong itself is in trouble."
"That's true."
Yi Yeon nodded with a wry smile at my words. As the eldest granddaughter of Ak Wangga and a Dochalwon official herself, she knew what worried me—and what she knew, I knew too. We both grasped the crisis's gravity without needing to discuss it.
The problem was that humans have emotions alongside reason.
"With the country in wartime chaos, I can't prioritize personal desires."
"Desires? If a wife's worry for her husband counts as desire, then who's truly selfless?"
"In this situation, it is desire. With Grandfather, Father, father-in-law, and brother-in-law all tied up in the war... hating for my husband to leave Kaepyeong too? What could be greedier?"
Her words choked me up. In this era valuing loyalty and filial piety, fretting only over one's husband while the family elders are at war—infusing personal feelings into national affairs—could be dismissed as selfish greed.
That's what Yi Yeon was saying. Unlike me, steeped in 21st-century vibes, she was a native 14th-century soul, inescapably bound by the order of loyalty and filial duty.
"At least Hubei isn't the border. Gaga came back safe from Beukhaebinggung, so nothing will happen."
"Sorry."
I couldn't lift my head at the sudden Beukhaebinggung jab. Damn Mongols. I'll never forget the grudge you forced on me by dragging me there.
"Gaga."
"Yeah."
"Only if the homeland is safe can the troops fight without worry. Only with calm minds can they win the war."
"Right… yeah."
"So I'll think of it as Gaga working for a peaceful era. Suffering just a little to gift our child a beautiful world."
Yi Yeon smiled radiantly and pulled me into an embrace.
"But don't make it too long, or I'll get upset. Come back as fast as you can, okay?"
Obvious words, so I hugged her back tightly.
"I'll return so quick you'll wonder if I even left."
If things go south, I'll just bail. Time for a lineup of tradition and trust on this trip: me and Jo Wi-cheo; Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i to carry us; Samshik, never leaving my sleeve; and Buong, trotting along excitedly like it's a vacation.
Ppiae's deep in sleep after swimming in the liquor vat last night, and Kkieak's off playing at Song Mountain, sitting this one out. No need to drag them, so this is the crew.
'Feels familiar.'
I couldn't help chuckling. Before the Jiayu Pass incident, this was exactly our lineup.
Yi Yeon joined as a Dochalwon official, and Ppiae and Kkieak tagged along, doubling our numbers.
"A nostalgic lineup, sir."
Jo Wi-cheo shared the sentiment, flashing a faint smile at our huddled crew before Giwangjeo's gates.
I felt bad for him. He married even later than me, so his honeymoon's hotter. Yet here he is, my subordinate, doomed to trek to Hubei.
"I could probably spare you. Wanna head back now?"
"I'm fine, sir. Even on honeymoon, if you dodge too much, you end up unable to back out later. Better to handle minor tasks alongside you."
Logical, so I nodded in agreement. True—overplay the honeymoon card, and it won't work when you really need it. Smart contingency, all things considered.
Not that I have room to talk, with my honeymoon shield getting pierced every time.
'You'll be different.'
I sincerely hoped Jo Wi-cheo wouldn't end up a miserable newlywed like me.