Capable Men Follow the Bureaucratic Path - 2
In the past, the scholars of Akrok Academy boldly proclaimed their opinions before the Emperor, the merit subjects, and the ministers. They debated the treatment of the old murim factions without a hint of deference to anyone, standing firm on their own reasoning. Moved by the passionate and spirited display of these scholars, the Emperor appointed them on the spot. The six who participated in the debate were made low-ranking ninth-grade secretaries and instructors at the National Academy, while Feng Sheng, who had already passed the civil exams, received a mid-eighth-grade vice secretary position and an assistant instructor role there as well.
The civil service exams were merely a process to verify the abilities of reclusive talents anyway. That was why the Emperor had no hesitation in appointing those who had proven themselves through other means, bypassing the exams. Why bother with redundant tests when their capabilities were already confirmed?
"With seven new talents joining us, the National Academy is buzzing with an unprecedented vitality since the founding of the nation. It's truly heartening to see the academy, which deliberates on the kingdom's century-long plans, operating so vigorously."
"All this is due to Your Majesty's virtue enveloping the land. Having established a peaceful realm, Your Majesty has allowed the scholars to devote themselves fully to their studies."
"Unlike the scholars of Akrok Academy, those from Seokgosan Academy chose the wrong path. If they took a different road in the same circumstances, it was due to their own virtue—or lack thereof—not mine."
With those words, the Emperor turned toward the lake.
"Moreover, it was the Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief who unearthed these talents who might have remained hidden in obscurity forever and brought them before me. This is an undeniable merit of the Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief."
He then turned his gaze back to me.
"And yet, before the luster of that merit could even fade, you've brought more new talents. How could I not be pleased?"
A faint smile graced the Emperor's face. Of course, he was the kind of sage who seemed to smile for more than half of his waking hours, but this meant he was particularly delighted with this latest discovery of talent. Honestly, who wouldn't smile if the man sent to investigate troubling murim movements came back saying, 'Saw some pretty decent guys out there.'
"They say once is coincidence, but twice is inevitability."
Anyway, the smiling Emperor continued in a serene tone.
"The first discovery could be chalked up to chance, but the second is no accident. It means there are still talents scattered across the realm that even I do not know of—those who missed the exams or whose gifts went undiscovered by them."
It wasn't wrong, so I listened silently. The exams selected promising officials, but if those prospects never took them, what good were the tests? In the end, it was a problem only solvable by a mindset like some emperor from original history who declared, 'Exceptional ability without entering bureaucracy is disloyalty to the throne.' But our current Emperor wasn't a madman like that.
He was gentler and more compassionate than anyone, born with the qualities of a sage ruler and an excellent defender of the realm. He wasn't the tyrannical sort to draw his sword over a missed exam.
...'Don't tell me.''
That's why, perhaps. I could already guess what came next. Now he knew untapped talents were scattered everywhere, overlooked by the exams. But the Emperor wasn't the type to say, 'Refuse the exams and face charges of disloyalty.' to that immeasurable multitude.
So there was only one method left to him. Not coercion, but a way to demonstrate imperial benevolence and tolerance—gathering the Dragon Balls of talent dispersed across the land. In this Central Plains, where each province rivaled a nation's size. Among its tens of millions of souls.
'A nightmare.''
The mere thought made my mind reel, my vision blurring. Not from tears—just my brain refusing to accept reality and starting to break—
'No.''
I bit my lip hard to snap out of it. No need to crumble yet. Not until the Emperor's command was explicit. Besides, his gentle nature applied not just to jobless vagrants but to serving officials too. Sure, I'd been rolling around like a dog everywhere despite being newlywed, but that was due to a pile-up of freak disasters. The Emperor wasn't maliciously screwing me over.
"Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Command me."
"Heaven has favored you, allowing you to find excellent talents twice, but relying solely on heaven's mercy is profoundly irreverent."
"Your Majesty's words are utterly correct."
It was sound logic, so I bowed deeply in agreement. Right—my finds at Akrok Academy and Wuchang were pure luck. Twice might be fate, but nah, still luck. Expecting that luck three or four times while wandering the realm was insane.
"Thus, leave the search for dormant talents across the land to the inspection censors. Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief, consult with the censors and proceed accordingly."
"I shall obey Your Majesty's will."
It was the most reasonable order imaginable; my lips twitched wildly to suppress a grin. Far better to delegate to over a hundred inspection censors than have me—or even me and Jo Wi-cheo—prowl the entire realm alone. It was more efficient, faster, and produced better results.
Sure, it piled new duties onto their existing workload, but 'Whatever.'' Not my problem. And wasn't it better for a hundred to share the burden than one sacrificial lamb? Misery loves company, after all.
Of course, I had no intention of sharing mine. I'd carried enough already. Any more and I'd actually drop dead...
- Mwoooo.
'Huh?'
As I inwardly offered condolences to the censors doomed to desperate crawling ahead, a strange cry echoed from the lake. What was that? Beastly, yet subtly like wind—resonating as if from a cave. Even I, who'd heard every animal noise imaginable, drew a blank.
"Heh. Didn't expect it to emerge first."
The Emperor seemed unfazed, so it wasn't some intruder or unwelcome guest.
"Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief. Come this way."
"Ah, yes, Your Majesty."
I hurried over at his call.
- Mwoo.
'What the.''
Closer to the lake, I spotted the source: a turtle poking its head above the water. Pitch-black as night, yet it evoked stolid warmth rather than menace.
'Never seen this before.''
No ordinary turtle, that much was clear. The rear garden already housed one spirit beast. Well, with the Four Auspicious Beasts and Four Evils around, one more wasn't odd—but I'd never glimpsed this one, which threw me off. And I'd visited the garden plenty of times, no brag.
'Hiding out of shyness?''
Very plausible. Even a spirit beast would shrink from the Four Auspicious and Evils splashing about. If there were at least gentle ones like the spirit nobles among them, maybe—but no.
That conclusion made the turtle pitiable. It seemed like the garden's longtime resident, forced into hiding by the four rolling stones that arrived.
"Must've been tough, huh."
- Mwoo?
I instinctively reached out and stroked its head. Sudden contact, but perhaps the spirit beast scent clinging to me helped; it accepted docilely. Its cry was unique, too. Did spirit beasts get demoted for normal noises? If I'd met this instead of Ppiae, I'd have named it 100% Mu—
"As expected, Mu welcomes the undaunted Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief."
'No, shit.''
It really was Mu.
"Mu. The Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief came alone. Not with friends."
- Mwooo...
Suddenly feeling the Emperor's naming skills weren't half bad, I watched as he patted Mu's head. Friends? What did that mean? The only turtle friend I had was Ppiae.
Noticing my confusion, the Emperor explained first. "Thanks to the Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief, the Four Auspicious and Evils now reside in the rear garden. It must have hoped you'd bring new friends this time too."
That was unexpected. I'd figured it hid from them, but "friends" implied they got along. It had just been shy around people until now.
"...If I have the honor of standing before Your Majesty again, I shall bring the Millennium Turtle with me."
"Millennium Turtle, eh."
The Emperor smiled faintly at my non-promise promise.
"Not a bad idea. I'll look forward to it."
His "look forward" made me shut my eyes in quiet despair. Don't get your hopes up for that. My heart couldn't take it.
Watching the Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief trudge away, I turned back to Mu.
"Keep your true nature hidden for now."
- Mwoooo.
Mu nodded as if it understood. Poor Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief was swamped with duties already. Discovering the Black Tortoise amid that chaos would only confuse him more. Better he thinks of Mu as an ordinary spirit beast turtle for the time being.
Though "ordinary" for a spirit beast was debatable, it was more ordinary than a divine beast like the Black Tortoise.
"Mu."
- Mwoo?
"Talents abound—that's joyous. But a world needing them? That's sorrowful."
My father once said an era without heroes is unfortunate, but one requiring them is more so. Much like ours. Crushing the Mongol unrest and reining in murim demanded vast manpower, resources, and effort. Thus, we elevated many talents—a bitter necessity.
In true peace, we wouldn't obsess over them. The Mongol war was unavoidable, but if we'd resolved the murim tensions earlier, we'd have had breathing room.
'People first, or order first?'
I smiled wryly, recalling the topic debated by murim sect heirs. Even as Emperor, I had no clear answer. When would this dilemma resolve? I prayed it vanished into history in my lifetime.
Back at Giwangjeo, Ppiae threw a tantrum the moment I arrived.
- Ppiae, ppieak! Ppiiieeeeak!
"Whoa, what's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
Was it cranky from no booze, or too much? Maybe feeding it some liquor would calm it down...?