The Eyesore Turns Out to be the Culprit - 1
Even after returning to Kaepyeong, I'd been sent on several more external assignments, but each time, the companions I'd worked with were dazzling beyond measure. Tomb excavations had the Iseongwangs at my side, the trip to Beukhaebinggung came with Grandfather and the Geum-ui-wi as escorts, and Guyongguan had the Four Auspicious Beasts and Sa-hung—not even humans—tagging along. The lineup had grown ever more extraordinary, farther from anything ordinary.
But this inspection tour of Hobuk and Homan was composed of a refreshingly ordinary crew for the first time in ages. No, it went beyond ordinary—it was familiar and nostalgic in the best way.
"Makes me feel like I'm back to my Jwa-cheom Do-eosa days."
The words I'd kept buried in my heart slipped out unbidden, and Jo Wi-cheo beside me nodded matter-of-factly. So I wasn't the only one thinking it.
Before the Jiayu Pass incident, it had just been me, Jo Wi-cheo, and the four spirit beasts roaming the Central Plains. After that crisis, my path to promotion had opened wide, so in a way, those were the most peaceful days of my bureaucratic career.
Maybe that's why. Despite the reality of rapid promotions, I felt this subtle comfort, like I'd been demoted back to Jwa-cheom Do-eosa.
'Still feels more natural being called Jwa-cheom Do-eosa than Ubu Do-eosa.'
Embarrassing as it was, even now, when drafting official documents, I'd write "Jwa" instead of "U" a few times and have to redo them. Talk about wasting paper. For the sake of national budgets, maybe I should beg to be demoted back.
"Wi-cheo."
"Yes, my lord."
"We should start by checking Yangyang, right?"
"That would be best. It's the most glaring gap left by Yangyang Wang's absence, so confirming there first will let us gauge the mood elsewhere."
With Jo Wi-cheo's agreement, our first destination was set: Yangyang. Though Hobuk had its own central hub, Yangyang was close to Zhili, home to a wangfu. Skipping it would be impossible. Of course, Yangyang Wang wouldn't have left without precautions, so it should be quiet enough—but still, one could never be too sure.
'It's not Yangyang that's the problem—it's where Pojeongsa is.'
Muyong, the heart of Hobuk where every manner of business converged, the devil's den itself. Just imagining the chaos unfolding there made my chest tighten. God forbid they needed to summon the guillotine. If it came to that, my blood pressure wouldn't hold.
— Buoong?
"Hold on just like this."
— Buo!
To suppress the churning emotions, I fiddled with Buong's nose from inside my robes. Buong therapy... It worked anywhere, anytime, without fail.
Arriving in Yangyang, a somewhat rigid atmosphere pressed down on us. But this was fine. With Yangyang Wang and his massive forces headed north, it was only natural for the remaining officials and generals to double down on public security. The survivors grinding even harder to cover the absences—that was just common sense, wasn't it? A lax mood would have been the real red flag. How the hell does the wangfu maintain order?
'Their expressions look normal.'
Moreover, despite the soldiers' imposing patrols, the citizens of Yangyang wore serene faces. If troops were scrambling due to some incident, folks would cower—but these patrols felt more preventive than reactive. No need for the people to panic; it was all for their safety.
'Good start.'
A smile crept onto my face unbidden. My last visit here had been marred by some lunatic water bandit's antics, turning Yangyang into a powder keg. Remembering that, I'd worried a repeat might occur. But it was just needless anxiety. Today's Yangyang was so peaceful, comparing it to then would be an insult.
'That time was the anomaly.'
Truth be told, that prior chaos was like getting hit by a meteor on a stroll— an unforeseeable catastrophe no one could resist. A deranged water bandit bold enough to spark conflict between Wudang and the Je-gal family. What the hell was in his skull? His stunt had plunged Yangyang into turmoil. Who could've imagined a mere pirate scum pulling that off?
Luckily, such freak incidents wouldn't chain together, so no need to waste energy here.
"Ubu Do-eosa, my lord!"
Just a Yangyang wangfu official rushing over upon hearing of our arrival. A quick chat with him, then southbound. That should suffice.
Decades had passed since our Great Song drove the barbaric Mongol horde north of the Great Wall. In those years, the realm had flourished in peace under High Ancestor Taizu and His present Majesty's benevolent and wise rule. Yet the steppe savages, hating peace, eyed the Central Plains with greed despite losing Heaven's Mandate.
Thus, His exalted Majesty raised an army to punish these rude, ignorant brutes—for the sake of the realm and all its people, hundreds of thousands marched north. This would etch itself eternally in Central Plains history as a great war.
But for such greatness, unseen sacrifices were essential.
"Welcome, my lord. It's been far too long."
For instance, me—burning the midnight oil to minimize the void left by Yangyang Wang and his loyal, valiant troops.
"Indeed. First time since the water bandit purge, right?"
Or folks like the Ubu Do-eosa trekking from Kaepyeong to Yangyang.
In my greener days, I hadn't grasped such devotion and loyalty. I thought war was just heroic generals battling bravely on the front and outfoxing foes with immortal-like stratagems. Foolish naivety.
How could war be waged by armies alone? Silent pillars upheld those armies. Without them doing their part, armies crumble, wars are lost, nations fall. Emperor Yang of Sui proved that truth.
So while welcoming the Ubu Do-eosa warmly, I inwardly cursed: 'Damn murim bastards.'
I resented the murim forces that dragged him all the way to Hobuk. Truth be told, I didn't know the full details. With Yangyang Wang—our everything, the wangfu's head—away with the host, I'd poured myself into securing Yangyang and the wangfu. No bandwidth for other cities, even in the same province.
Just vague rumors post-troop departures: old murim stirring trouble.
'Scum not fit to donate their wealth, daring this.'
Incomprehensible. Old murim owed more than their fortunes for this war—donations barely atoned for past sins against Great Song's soldiers. Yet no tribute, no silence, just chaos? Suicidal?
'Can't make sense of it.'
Even smiling at the Ubu Do-eosa, my mind raced. Utterly baffling—so much that I doubted the rumors' truth. Surviving murim were cowards silent during the founding war, sharp-eyed enough to live. The oblivious had crumbled under decades of imperial justice. We'd just purged pirate collaborators too. And now, amid a war for national fate, unrest? Beyond absurd or enraging—it beggared belief for any rational soul.
"My lord."
"Ah, yes. Speak."
Amid my fury, doubt, regret, and annoyance, the Ubu Do-eosa spoke.
"Even I, fresh off the road, can see Yangyang's utter peace. Credit to Yangyang Wang northbound, and your dedication to the people."
"Overpraise. All thanks to His Majesty's grace and Yangyang Wang's virtue—how could my meager efforts claim it?"
Dochalwon official, Giwangga crown prince flattery. Normally delightful, but now? Cold sweat beaded. Him coming personally now, opening like this...
"Overpraise? I've heard other regions lack Yangyang's calm. If so, doesn't that make it your merit? The difference? Your presence."
He declared intent to probe those wondrous old murim rumors.
'Why drag me into it?'
I nearly sighed aloud. Natural for him to chase odd tales, tragic for me to get entangled. Saying it to my face meant he planned to use me. I was swamped managing the wangfu already...
'Damn murim shits.'
Blame fell not on the Ubu Do-eosa before me, but nameless murim. Without their folly—or if they'd had any reputation—he wouldn't be here.
"Less my presence, more the absence of unruly scum."
Deep breath, subtle jab at murim karma.
"Quite. One could see it that way."
He nodded at once, body language screaming: Spill everything you know on those brutes.
'I don't know much myself.'
What to start with? Murim idiots brawling southeast, tumbling amiably into a waterfall? We'd end up spilling all, but order mattered.