No Choice But to Head to Shanxi - 5
The drinks kept flowing. One cup, two cups, then a whole bottle, two bottles. It had started as a way to get pleasantly buzzed and drift off to sleep, but now I was drinking to numb my mind.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
I let out a rough sigh after draining the second bottle. The villagers who'd begged me to show mercy to Jihyeon, to understand our dire circumstances, had finally gone home. No one was left to trouble my ears, yet strangely, their pleas still echoed in my head.
I can't just look the other way.
Another heavy sigh escaped me, and Jo Wi-cheo quietly slid over the third bottle.
"Take it easy, sir."
"You're not telling me to stop."
"Would you actually stop if I did?"
I chuckled dryly at that and put the third bottle to my lips. As a martial artist, my tolerance was higher than most civilians'. Cheap liquor from a frontier inn might bring a slow creep of intoxication, but it wouldn't knock me out cold. That was the real problem—driving me insane. If only I could black out and forget everything.
"Wi-cheo."
"Yes, sir."
"Prepare a messenger pigeon."
At the mention of reporting this up the chain, Jo Wi-cheo flinched for a moment before nodding. This is the right call. Yeah, it was. This wasn't something I could handle on my own authority. It dwarfed the incident with Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i back at Hengshan. Capturing spirit beasts without permission was off-limits, but a simple report usually got approval fast. Checking murim sects was just routine bureaucracy, not bound by the same laws that tied me down. But breaking the unwritten rule of non-interference with officialdom? That was fatal for any bureaucrat. Ignoring it was just as bad.
I can't just hide it and make it go away.
If eternal secrets truly existed in this world, I'd have shut my eyes and shown leniency. Those self-proclaimed righteous faction folks cozying up to Jihyeon? Send them to labor at Shanhaiguan instead of rolling around there. Jihyeon colluding with murim? He hadn't broken any explicit laws, so a formal reprimand would suffice on paper. But this town was small—news from the county office spread like wildfire in hours. If I let Jihyeon off easy, would that stay secret? Of course not; it'd be all over the neighborhood in a flash. Unfortunately, the one thing you couldn't trust or control in this world was the people's mouths. No power could silence them.
Then he'd face punishment including charges of insolence.
If word of my leniency reached the higher-ups, Jihyeon, this county, and its people wouldn't have a bright future. They'd probably claim he'd deceived the Left Vice Inspector General tasked with overseeing the realm on the Emperor's behalf—turning ten lashes into twenty, no doubt. Those were the kinds of people who'd happily make an example out of one to warn a thousand.
So I had only one path forward.
Pour my soul into the letter.
I'd write to my superiors, framing it to beg for maximum mercy. Even if they resented Jihyeon for defying policy, I'd detail my dilemma so thoroughly they'd feel it too.
Jwa Do-eosa, Grandfather, Jung San Wang.
My boss and head of the Dochalwon, Jwa Do-eosa. My blood kin and rock-solid backing, Grandfather. The sole king north of the Yellow River, Jung San Wang. If even one sided with me, we could resolve this legally.
...
Send one to Ak Wang too.
One out of four was better odds than three.
Punishment for the evil faction scum proceeded swiftly. Unlike the righteous faction, there was no room for mercy—after all, wasn't that why Jihyeon had allied with murim in the first place? They were practically the culprits who'd pushed him into crisis, so the fury of his subordinates and the villagers ran sky-high. The ringleaders and top brass, piled high with crimes, were executed quickly, while the lesser offenders got shipped to Shanhaiguan. Hopefully, they'd turn over a new leaf there.
Or reincarnate as beasts after death.
With all that karma, their next life wouldn't be human anyway.
With the evil faction dealt with, all that remained was judgment for Jihyeon and the righteous faction. Thanks to that, I spent my days under the desperate stares of the county officials and villagers.
When will the replies come?
I scratched the back of my neck, glaring at the stubbornly silent messenger pigeons. It was embarrassing and burdensome. This was out of my hands now. Those pitiful looks wouldn't change a thing.
I can't even tell them that.
Of course, admitting the stares made me uncomfortable would only make it worse. Saying something like "I've reported this upward" would probably earn me a barrage of pitchforks.
- Kki-iing...
- Kki-oong...
"Trying to cheer me up?"
As I stared blankly at the sky, Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, munching on fodder, nudged my waist and let out worried cries. These two were sharp and intelligent. They'd long sensed the village's tense atmosphere and my headache.
"Nothing bad will happen to me, so don't worry."
I chuckled and stroked their heads; they dove back into their feed trough. Right—nothing bad would happen to me. I'd just confirmed the bureaucrat's breach and reported it. No cover-up attempt meant no fallout for me. So why worry? Why sigh?
Damn it.
I bit my lip without realizing and rubbed my dry face. If none of the four I wrote were convinced, Jihyeon would face harsh punishment. Without him, the villagers would suffer under evil faction remnants again. Too cruel a price for my own safety.
"Ah."
Then, far off, a messenger pigeon appeared, winging toward us.
Please.
I extended my hand for it to perch, praying fervently. Please, good news. Formal punishment for Jihyeon only, righteous faction stays to keep the peace.
...Huh?
The letter I checked with such desperate hope held unexpected words.
I shall come in person. The Left Vice Inspector General is to await me on site.
Jung San Wang, wielding immense influence north of the Yellow River, tasked with checking Mongols and Goryeo. He was descending on this remote county?
Insane.
What the hell was happening?
Jung San Wang. One of the seven Iseongwangs granted kingly titles for massive merits in Daesong's founding. Unlike Giwang and Ak Wang in the capital Kaepyeong, or Dong-gu Wang, Gu Gangwang, Yangyang Wang, and Nang-jung Wang south of the Yellow River, he alone held domain north of it—a true Ija Wang. And like most talents gathered by the Emperor's grandfather, a figure renowned even in real history.
"We meet Your Highness, Jung San Wang."
Seo Dal-i, founding merit of Ming, top general under Zhu Yuanzhang, the legendary commander who'd driven out the Yuan and seized what was now Beijing—he'd come all this way.
"Rise, Left Vice Inspector General. The ground is cold; no need to prostrate your precious self."
"I am humbled, Your Highness."
I rose slowly at his calm voice.
"Hmm."
As I stood, I caught him stroking his chin, surveying the area.
"A peaceful place. Bustling cities have their charm, but a small, humble village like this has its own."
He nodded in satisfaction and patted my shoulder.
"So, a major incident in this peaceful haven?"
"...Yes, Your Highness. Regrettably, an official unable to forget old customs acted on his own—"
"Enough, enough. I'll see for myself; better to hear it from the man himself."
With that, Jung San Wang strode ahead.
The king himself.
I hurried after him, sorting my thoughts. If a king came in person instead of just issuing orders by letter, it meant one of two things: horrific punishment I didn't want to imagine, or utmost mercy. Nothing in between—why bother otherwise?
"Left Vice Inspector General."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"You've carried a heavy burden alone."
That small comfort stirred emotions beyond words. If he knew my worries, please let it end well...
Which king had time on their hands? But among them, I was swamped. As the sole king north of the Yellow River, I wielded overwhelming influence—but it also meant handling everything alone, without fellow kings to call on. A nightmare, truly.
This wasn't some ordinary region. To the north, Mongol bandits eyed a comeback; to the east, mad Goryeo dogs held firm. At least the Goryeo prioritized defending their own turf over invading the Central Plains, but having lunatics next door was never pleasant.
Then the Left Vice Inspector General sent a headache of a letter.
A bureaucrat allying with murim for the people.
Complicated. Since Daesong's founding, we'd suppressed and despised murim. While we risked our lives against the Mongols, shedding bloody tears over our kin's deaths—what had those self-styled heroes done? Puffed up about righteousness and chivalry, yet when true chivalry was needed, what? Our crackdown was just, right, and proper.
Martial artists ignoring the realm's chaos and the people's cries were mere parakho bandits. Only by proclaiming that could order be restored. Precedents prevented dark history's repeat. This wasn't mere emotion; it was rational discourse.
If we didn't crush murim when official authority peaked, we'd set a perverse precedent: "Stay silent when it's inconvenient, righteousness be damned." If no one held murim accountable, they'd become a group existing beyond control, not for the state's need. Without self-purification, they'd rot into self-serving cliques.
Decades later, we still suppressed them... yet here we were.
Such incidents were inevitable.
Limited resources across the vast Central Plains—security gaps were bound to emerge. Truly lamentable. How desperate must Jihyeon have been to defy us and grasp murim's hand?
Punishment must be dealt.
But pity alone couldn't excuse it. For the realm's order, we needed a conclusion everyone accepted.
What to do?
I pondered, gazing down at O Tae-hyeon, the prone Jihyeon before me. My head throbbed, mirroring the Left Vice Inspector General's dilemma.