Hubei is Always Cloudy - 5
Up until now, Wudangpa and the Je-gal family had sent elders to the Yangyang Prince's residence, demonstrating their strong intent to cooperate in this matter. But now, they've gone beyond elders—the sect leader and family head have declared they will participate personally.
No matter the faction, when the head steps forward, it's no small affair. Their authority and role are singular and irreplaceable, which is precisely why they usually hold position at their main base. Leaving it empty invites complications if something else arises. Even more so for Wudangpa and the Je-gal family, which boast immense scale and quality. They have systems in place where subordinates can handle most matters without the leader's involvement.
"Taegyeok Geomgong and the Je-gal family head lending a hand."
Yet the leaders of these two powers have announced they will assist in suppressing the water bandits. Honestly, even the elders stepping up felt a bit excessive—like using a dragon's guillotine to slaughter a chicken.
"Wudang and Je-gal have already shown ample dedication for the peace of Hubei and the realm. The court will not forget that devotion, so there's no need for Taegyeok Geomgong and the family head to step forward as well."
Yangyang Wang, stroking his chin, offered the customary refusal first. They'd already been cooperative enough; no need to push further.
"How could devotion to His Majesty ever be deemed 'ample'? Feelings for one's parents, teacher, or sovereign can never be too deep or abundant."
Of course, if they were the type to back down at a formal refusal, they wouldn't have brought it up. Je-gal Jin quickly bowed his head, rejecting the rejection.
"The sect leader was deeply saddened and remorseful about this incident in Hubei. His aged eyes failed to see the water bandits right under his nose, so as a swordsman, he wishes to atone with his blade."
Baek Seon also relayed Taegyeok Geomgong's earnest intent once more.
This left Yangyang Wang with little ground to refuse. Even if below a prince, a duke who earned his title in the founding was leading his aged body to suppress bandits, and a descendant of the revered Je-gal Liang spoke of loyal patriotism.
"Truly, Taegyeok Geomgong and the Je-gal family head are among the realm's foremost patriots."
He'd never intended to refuse anyway. For Yangyang Wang, this was most welcome.
"Since you put it that way, I shall humbly accept."
As proof, he nodded calmly, granting permission for the two heavyweights to join.
Shortly after Yangyang Wang's approval, new figures occupied the seats where Baek Seon and Je-gal Jin had sat.
"I am deeply grateful that Your Highness has accepted this foolish old man's request."
A white beard grown like an immortal's cascaded past his chest to his belly—Taegyeok Geomgong.
"I shall surely live up to Your Highness's mercy and trust."
Unlike Je-gal Jin, who looked the typical scholar-official, the Je-gal family head had a stern, fierce countenance.
They must have already been in Yangyang. Otherwise, they couldn't have arrived so swiftly.
"Impressive. With so many spirited souls like this, no wonder the realm enjoys peace today."
Yangyang Wang saw it as spirited patriotism and nodded in satisfaction. Honestly, it was probably closer to wanting to crush the water bandit pups bold enough to exploit them, but outward appearance matters more than inner motives. Let's just gloss over that.
"That said, with you two stepping up, it feels like we could even suppress the old Changgang Su-ro Ship-pal Chae. Isn't this overkill for mere bandit remnants?"
I nodded unwittingly at Yangyang Wang's chuckle. Taegyeok Geomgong had been untouchable even in the late Yuan era, and by the time the emperor rose in rebellion, he was already an ancient relic among relics. No wonder even the leaders of Zhongnanpa and Huashanpa turned meek before him. As the highest-ranked living murim man with skills to match, even if Jin Paeryeong of the Changgang Su-ro Ship-pal Chae revived, he'd climb into his own coffin at the sight.
'A duke's title isn't for show.'
They don't grant nobility lightly to murim folk. Titles go to active officials and soldiers. Yet Taegyeok Geomgong, a murim man, received the highest duke rank among the five. Had he fully abandoned his sect leader role for officialdom, he might have risen even higher.
'The Je-gal family head...'
I shifted my gaze from Taegyeok Geomgong, who was chuckling heartily, to the family head. Unlike Je-gal Jin, he had a rigid face and muscular build. If Je-gal Liang had gripped dumbbells instead of books, he'd look just like that.
'Civil and martial perfection.'
Hard to believe he was Je-gal stock, so I gave him the most positive spin. Yeah, he's a well-rounded genius. Je-gal Liang's brains in Lü Bu's body. I hadn't tested his intellect yet, but that's what I'd go with. Otherwise, I'd end up beaten with the Four Books and Three Classics.
We are water bandits. Remnants of the Changgang Su-ro Ship-pal Chae that once shook the Central Plains and the Yangtze. We don't deny it.
Our master who taught us martial arts was a water bandit, and the skills we learned are the aquatic arts used by water bandits. Denying that identity would be like shattering our own bones and draining our blood.
But just because our foundation and identity are as water bandits doesn't mean we have to live like them, right?
'In this day and age, calling yourself a water bandit gets you killed first.'
Mountain bandits scatter across the Central Plains' mountains, but water bandits' turf inevitably leads to the Yangtze, no matter how small the river. And on the Yangtze lurks a monster that grinds its teeth at any water bandit.
A king who crushed the largest, mightiest water bandit group in Central Plains murim history.
'To live as murim folk, we need at least a different name.'
So we waited until our master, who taught us our arts, passed from old age. He wanted us to revive the Changgang Su-ro Ship-pal Chae. While he lived, we put on a show—mild banditry to prove we upheld his legacy. The ailing master was satisfied even with that pretense and passed peacefully.
Afterward, we dropped even the pretense. Why shove our heads into a tiger's maw? If suicide was the goal, we wouldn't have learned martial arts.
"Chaeju. What now?"
"Tell our old trading partners: we're done with banditry, so if they don't want reported to the court, keep the money coming steady."
We just had to avoid overt banditry on the Yangtze; shady deals between criminals are fine. During our pretense days, we took commissions from Hubei's sects and families, sinking rival ships. It soothed master and earned coin, so we kept at it.
But no need now. We have piles of evidence from those dealings. Why risk real banditry when we can extort them unilaterally?
Thus, we sought change. Expanding our base with "donations" from our dear marks, growing our power, even starting legit money-makers. We tried morphing into an ordinary sect.
'But Hubei has limits, no matter how we struggle.'
Hubei was saturated. Giants like Wudangpa and Je-gal family, countless mid-to-small powers below them. The court stations a prince here for oversight. Too many hurdles for a new faction to expand.
We considered relocating but hated abandoning our groundwork. Could we even reach this level starting over elsewhere?
After agonizing, we decided to shake the board. Everyone knew Hubei's two giants were subtly clashing over merchant house issues. Pour oil on that fire, and a blaze would engulf Hubei. We'd leap in the chaos.
Risky, but opportunity hides in crisis. A real man stakes all when the moment calls.
"It failed in the end."
I chuckled, sensing the growing clamor. Our once-in-a-lifetime gamble bombed.
Days ago, it seemed to be working—pure delusion.
'Giants are giants for a reason.'
I thought I had Wudangpa and Je-gal in my grasp, fooling all Hubei. Never realized I was the fool.
"Exterminate the bandit scum who mock the realm!"
"Sever their heads and show the court's might!"
The roars echoed; I laughed again. Damn fools. I'd spent more years off banditry than on.
'Dying as a water bandit after all.'
The laughter wouldn't stop. I swore not to live as one despite starting that way, but I was a water bandit through and through. Our growth path was bandit-style, and I'd die remembered as such across the realm.
Master. Are you watching? This disciple couldn't revive the Changgang Su-ro Ship-pal Chae's glory, but I'll depart clutching a bandit's identity.
"You the chaeju?"
As I cackled on, a blood-soaked musclebound brute reached me.
"Yeah, that's me. Heir to the Water Dragon who shook the Yangtze."
"You dare, a mere thief, speak of dragons?!"
The brute spat fury at my words. Not scary. Clearly superior, but with all lost, death held no terror.
"Kill me, and you're the dragon-slayer hero. Earn the moniker Dragon Butcher."
Calm enough for jokes, even.
"Insolent cur."
Then he unfurled the fan at his waist—...?
'A fan?'
On that bulk? No, an iron fan at that?
"For daring to flap your mouth before the Je-gal family head, mere death won't atone."
"What."
His words barely ended before the self-proclaimed Je-gal head smashed his iron fan down on my shoulder.
"F-fuck!"
Absurdity hit before pain. That muscle, that weapon, and Je-gal family? The head?
"Bullshit!"
Don't scam me, you musclehead! How are you Je-gal Liang's descendant? Lü Bu's at best!