Order Above Men
In the face of the king's arrival—a figure far beyond comparison to a mere Left Vice Inspector General—Ji-hyeon couldn't even think of rising from the ground. I hadn't expected things to escalate this far either, so I watched him with a pang of bitterness. I'd reported up the chain, sure, but I never imagined they'd send someone in person rather than just a reply. And certainly not a king, of all people.
"Safeguarding the peace of the realm and the tranquility of the people is the duty of the bureaucracy. It is also a solemn right that cannot be yielded to anyone."
As Jung San Wang spoke, not just Ji-hyeon but every official nearby bowed even lower. Heads already pressed to the dirt now seemed ready to burrow straight underground.
"Yet County Magistrate Ji-hyeon of Otae-hyeon has failed in his duties as an official and forfeited his rights of his own accord. How lamentable is this?"
It was a fierce rebuke of Ji-hyeon's blunder, but it was still manageable. The fact remained that he'd violated policy, so the criticism couldn't be skipped. This was a necessary step. The real crux was what came next: mercy beginning with "however," or harsh punishment starting with "therefore."
"The vagabond bandits once called murim claimed to follow the way of the sword and fist, swinging blades before the innocent and extorting protection money. Yet the bureaucracy tolerated it, and the people accepted it, because they believed that when the realm groaned in agony someday, those parakho would rise heroically. That held true until they realized it was a betrayed faith."
With that, Jung San Wang unrolled the scroll he held. Not mere verbal chastisement like before, but a written verdict that would stand forever in the records. My mouth went dry—this was where it got real.
"County Magistrate Ji-hyeon has betrayed the trust of the bureaucracy and the people by colluding with the old murim, failing to fulfill his duties and rights as an official. Accordingly, the criminal Ji-hyeon's post as county magistrate is hereby revoked."
Ji-hyeon maintained his composure as if he'd braced for this. As though he'd foreseen this fate from the moment I uncovered the affair. The other officials, however, flinched, shoulders twitching or backs shuddering in agitation.
The subordinates panic while the one getting demoted stays calm.
A wry smile tugged at my lips. The way the people had mobbed the inspector begging for leniency, and now this—Ji-hyeon's character and competence must surpass what I'd imagined. Hell, some officials were even shedding tears; "outstanding" didn't do it justice.
"However, the criminal's collusion with the old murim was not for personal gain but to protect the county's public order and the safety of its people. The means were wrong, but the outcome was right."
Murmurs rippled through the prone officials as the verdict continued.
It won't end in one line.
Local officials might not know better, but high-ranking ones always padded even minor requests or judgments with florid verbiage. A demotion right off the scroll meant more was coming. No need to cry yet. From what I remembered, Jung San Wang always dropped the bombshell first, then smoothed things over.
"An end does not justify the means. Yet considering Otae-hyeon's dire circumstances, the criminal's resolve, and the pleas for mercy from the locals who coexisted with the old murim thanks to him, we cannot ignore the results he achieved."
These highly favorable words made even Ji-hyeon's hand tremble against the ground.
He was already stripped of his magistrate post. But with this talk of extenuating circumstances, he might serve a brief stint as a commoner and return to office.
"Accordingly, the criminal Ji-hyeon is ordered to serve three years in the Jung San Wangfu alongside his demotion. Rely no more on luck; relearn the duties of an official who values law and precedent."
...?
The Jung San Wangfu?
This was better than a simple hiatus and reinstatement. What looked like punishment was utmost mercy in disguise. Ji-hyeon kowtowed three times before the king, tears streaming down his face. Even braced for penalty, it couldn't have been easy for him. A mere Regular 7th-grade official defying the edicts of far superiors for his county's sake—and drawing down a king's personal judgment to punish it. He'd probably wanted to bite his tongue a dozen times over. Yet he'd endured the verdict before the king with steadfast resolve. A man of remarkable responsibility.
"A fundamental fix proved impossible."
After the judgment on Ji-hyeon wrapped up, I met privately with Jung San Wang in an inn after sending even the owner away.
"I agonized over your letter countless times, but no matter how I turned it, this was the best path. Without restoring trust in murim and changing bureaucratic policy, nothing more is feasible."
Jung San Wang chuckled dryly and downed his drink in one go.
As he'd said, this was the optimal resolution. If anything, he'd stretched a bit to tidy it up.
Practically a promotion.
Ji-hyeon was demoted, true—no longer lording over Otae-hyeon as its official. But under the guise of service, he'd enter the Jung San Wangfu itself, the king's own organization. Three years guaranteed at the king's side, working with his officials. That experience and network were irreplaceable assets.
Of course, as "service," he'd forgo formal pay during that time, and his stigma of defying superiors might earn him the cold shoulder from peers...
Still worlds better than ending his career or rotting in jail.
Nominally, Ji-hyeon was a criminal deserving punishment. Even if Jung San Wang pitied him and showed substantial mercy, that didn't change. He'd have to endure no pay and potential ostracism. Bitter, but reality.
Even well-intentioned acts became national ills if they strayed from the order set by superiors.
"Your Highness's merciful and wise judgment will move Otae-hyeon's people and officials to gratitude."
"Haha, didn't you see their faces earlier? Looked like they resented losing a competent boss."
I smiled at Jung San Wang's little joke. Better to lose a respected superior to the king's pickup and a de facto promotion than anything else. That was gratitude in their eyes, not resentment.
"Left Vice Inspector General."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"...Truth be told, even this sat poorly with me."
I quietly refilled his empty cup as he sighed. I'd wrestled between superiors' order and local realities, ultimately passing the burden upward to unshoulder it. But Jung San Wang had witnessed the policy he and his peers set causing harm in reality. Unable to resolve that contradiction cleanly, he'd birthed a new one: mercy masquerading as punishment, punishment cloaked as mercy.
If even I felt uneasy, how must he? Seeing the world and order they'd built ensnared by contradiction—what did that feel like? And knowing it, yet patching with stopgaps—how agonizing?
"Decades of order can't be overturned by one king stepping forward."
I had no reply to his murmur. This time, his personal intervention smoothed it over. Ji-hyeon moved to a bigger outfit; officials and locals spared their admired leader's ruin; the self-proclaimed righteous murim got ordered to unpaid service maintaining Otae-hyeon's peace—not Shanhaiguan's. "Unpaid service," my foot—with quiet county perks, it was status quo.
But when similar issues cropped up elsewhere, then what? He couldn't rely on kingly prestige every time.
Tough.
As he'd said, decades of order were ironclad. Even a king needed such roundabout ways to back a single official.
"By the time you become king, will the world have changed?"
"You'll have to account for the chance I die before Grandfather."
Jung San Wang burst out laughing. What? Did he take it as a joke? I was dead serious.
If this crap pops up nationwide, I'd drop dead from frustration.
True story. Unlike my Hwagyeong master grandfather, a pitiful first-rate like me was a guppy that could keel over from stress. Jung San Wang, having reached Hwagyeong, probably forgot the woes of us first-rate small fries.
The day after wrapping Ji-hyeon's verdict, I bid Jung San Wang farewell and hurried from the county. Or rather, hustled out of this hellish Shaanxi.
"Can we skip the other spots?"
"Yeah. With His Highness Jung San Wang's visit, they'll toe the line on their own."
The Left Vice Inspector General uncovers bureaucracy-murim collusion; Jung San Wang personally punishes it. Word spreads, and Shaanxi's officials and murim folk will hunker down. Noisy sects go quiet; finding cooperative ones gets harder. Officials approaching first? They'd spook.
Yeah, so much for scouting cooperative Shaanxi sects. Heartbreaking—tears welling up.
Shaanxi will be even worse.
Already my head spun. One county headache like this; what chaos with Zhongnan and Huashan clashing?
Better draft a will beforehand. Worst case, stress-induced sudden death.
Wasn't I a royal grandson?
Sudden pathos hit. Heir to a founding hero, dying abruptly in the boonies. What other royal grandson lived this pathetically? Others lounged in their own yards.
Fuck.
Life itself was miserable.