The Iron Horse Yearns to Run
In the wake of the meeting with the King of the Green Forest, while Hui-yeom was away in Yunnan, a great many wanderers from the Central Plains began pouring into Sichuan Province.
To any casual observer they looked for all the world like Sichuan natives who spoke the local dialect, yet they themselves insisted they had come from the Central Plains. What was anyone supposed to do—refuse to believe them?
Claiming to be employees of a company that had sprung up overnight called the Nokshan Road Traffic Safety Management Corporation, they briskly renovated a rundown warehouse building in Chengdu and settled in as if they owned the place.
At first the people of Sichuan and the government troops eyed them with suspicion. That suspicion melted away, however, once they saw the newcomers linking arms with the laborers of Huiyeon Comprehensive Construction and vanishing to the worksites day after day.
"They're a partner firm of the Sichuan Dang Family, aren't they? I heard the Dang Family was short on hands, so they must have brought in outsiders."
"For outsiders, their Sichuan dialect is awfully fluent…"
"So what? You little punk, are you a Guizhou spy or something?"
"Who cares if they're outsiders or locals? As long as they're not human-butchering heretic cultists or mountain bandits, it's fine."
"Right? You think the authorities would just sit still if actual bandits walked into the city?"
"Exactly."
Was there anything more common-sense than that? People had no choice but to trust them.
The "employees" of the Nokshan Road Traffic Safety Management Corporation all wore work clothes stamped with a crest of overlapping green and yellow mountains, and they headed into the hills.
"Boss, is this a good spot for the checkpoint outpost?"
"The location itself isn't bad… but isn't it a little too close to the provincial garrison post… sir?"
A hulking man who would have looked like the textbook image of a model bandit the moment you draped him in beast-hide clothes and slung a single Ghost-Head Saber over his shoulder spoke carefully to the work-site foreman in awkward honorifics.
"The ground here is high, so it's perfect for watching the lower road, but it's pretty far from the actual path. If you want to collect tolls, run patrols, and maintain the road, it's better to just put the outpost right beside the road… sir."
"Ah, is that so?"
"And we should clear this stretch of forest. It's perfect cover for animals—or people—to set an ambush. The kind of place where someone would go to do busin… no, no, to jump travelers."
"Heavens. Did you take military training or something? You sound like you can read a bandit's mind. Understood!"
"…Haha."
The Green Forest bandits—industry experts of a sort—casually spilled priceless information about terrain ideal for roads, optimal sites for watch posts, and the exact spots where other bandits not under Green Forest control would love to set up shop.
Because bandits arose as naturally as weeds and the Green Forest did not represent every mountain thief in existence, that information mattered.
"Here—this slightly elevated spot where the cliff curves in a little. Build an outpost there and station a few soldiers with strong bows, and you can rain arrows one-sidedly down onto the heads of any bandits heading along the lower road to rob travelers."
"Ah! So this was a geomantic treasure all along! How on earth did you know a place like this existed?"
"…I was born around here."
"This is a tremendous help!"
With the Green Forest men's assistance, they marked the critical points on the maps; then the road construction linking those points began in earnest.
Of course the truly vital arteries already ran through the mountain tunnels that had been bored earlier, so the main flow of traffic never drastically shifted. Still, the secondary roads between those points ended up laid out with remarkable efficiency thanks to the bandits' advice.
And among those Green Forest men, one stood out above the rest…
"A round-trip distance shortened by ten li…"
Construction Department Manager Gwak Do frowned at the report.
"Who submitted this proposal?"
"A man named Deok-im, the road-management section chief of Nokshan. He says he's Sichuan-born."
"Hmm. Useful fellow."
Absorbing the generous industry know-how freely dispensed by a former mountain-stronghold chieftain who had once ruled Sichuan, Huiyeon Comprehensive Construction and the Nokshan Road Traffic Safety Management Corporation continued their highly effective work of laying out roads and outposts.
While the Construction Department threw itself into the massive project of connecting all of Sichuan with roads, had everywhere else simply been idle?
From the moment Hui-yeom visited Yunnan, distributed the green coffee beans to the coffee plantations, and watched them sprout until the day he returned to Chengdu in Sichuan, the forges of the Metallurgy Department never went cold.
Literally never. Not once did the fires die.
Whether deep night, pre-dawn, or broad day, the Metallurgy Department remained a ghost-house of constant clanging and the groans of people clutching their aching heads.
Yet the fruit of that grinding overtime finally arrived.
"It's finished…"
They had built the first steam locomotive capable of hauling far more cargo than any ox-cart.
After several test runs, Metallurgy Department Head Han Cheol immediately reported the success to Hui-yeom. When Hui-yeom examined the locomotive blueprints attached to the report, he smiled with a peculiar expression.
"People really do all think the same, don't they?"
The first train that Han Cheol and the Metallurgy staff had produced bore a striking resemblance to the Locomotion No. 1 that George Stephenson built in 1825.
Looking at a structure and drive principle almost identical to the replica of Locomotion No. 1 he had once seen at the National Railway Museum in Britain, Hui-yeom nodded.
Well, even in the original world it took a long time to convert the steam engine from reciprocating motion to rotary motion; after that, inventing the train didn't take long at all. And I practically shoved the hints down their throats. If anything, this is late.
Locomotion No. 1 had run on the world's first commercial railway, the Stockton and Darlington Railway.
Back then its speed was only a little slower than a horse-drawn carriage, but in Hui-yeom's judgment the engine Han Cheol had built possessed a more refined structure than Locomotion No. 1 and ought to be able to go faster.
Hui-yeom decided to turn the inaugural run of this first train into a grand ceremony and ordered Lee Jin-myeong to plan the event.
That was why he chose the route from the iron-ore stockyard on the outskirts of Chengdu to the State-run Ironworks as the first line to open.
Hauling heavy iron ore to a facility that was the Provincial Administration Commissioner's own achievement would symbolically display the relationship between the Sichuan Dang Family and the provincial government while also demonstrating an improvement in the Ironworks' profit structure.
The Provincial Administration Commissioner, who had been casting rather suspicious glances over the collaboration with bandits and the mountain-tunneling projects, would certainly reverse course the moment he saw this.
Invitations were scattered far and wide.
Not only the power-holders of Sichuan Province, but the relevant authorities of Yunnan Province, the Jeomchang Sect, the Southern Savage Beast Palace, the Emei Sect, the Qingcheng Sect, and even the Sama Family—plus, unofficially, the Green Forest itself.
King of the Green Forest Im Deok-sul would not be able to attend, but "Im Chung" of the Nokshan Road Traffic Safety Management Corporation certainly could.
Why does the alias have to be Im Chung of all things?
The name Im Chung immediately conjured "Leopard Head," the protagonist of the novel Water Margin and the most famous bandit chieftain of Liangshan Marsh in the world.
Wait—did Water Margin even exist in this world?
By this point Hui-yeom half-wondered whether the man simply wanted to advertise "I am actually a bandit king."
In any case, invitations reached every important person, including "Im Chung."
And at last the opening day arrived.
The venue was divided into two parts.
First came the "Departure Ceremony," in which the Provincial Administration Commissioner read a congratulatory address while everyone watched the ore-laden train leave Chengdu City.
Then came the "Arrival Ceremony," in which people waited at the State-run Ironworks for the train to complete its first run and come to a stop.
Seats at the Departure Ceremony were prepared for the high officials of Sichuan and Yunnan and the leaders of the martial sects; the Arrival Ceremony was reserved for the people of Huiyeon Comprehensive Construction, the Sichuan Dang Family, and the Nokshan Road Traffic Safety Management Corporation.
First the Provincial Administration Commissioner's congratulatory address dragged on at length.
It was the usual endless praise of His Majesty the Emperor's reign, self-congratulation on the commissioner's own benevolent governance, and compliments for the Sichuan Dang Family's devotion. When it finally ended, the next person to mount the platform was Hui-yeom.
All because Dang Un-sang had shoved him forward with the words, "I'm no good at this sort of thing."
Hui-yeom began his speech with practiced ease.
"Honored high officials of both provinces, beloved people of Sichuan, good day. I am Dang Hui-yeom, Young Master of the Sichuan Dang Family. I offer you my greetings."
Waaaaaaaaaah!!!
He had barely spoken the first sentence when the crowd already waved their arms and roared.
Hui-yeom waited with a smiling face until they quieted, then continued.
"Our Sichuan and Yunnan Provinces are blessed lands that in no way lag behind the Central Plains—lands of outstanding culture, abundant natural resources, excellent talent, and beautiful natural scenery.
Yet until now we have failed to make proper use of the potential we possess, crouching here like a sleeping giant.
Had the high officials of both provinces not expended every effort, we would have remained forever asleep, hearing ourselves called by the Central Plains nothing more than 'vulgar upstarts who make money selling silk and tea.'"
The cheers subsided; everyone gazed up at the platform with serious eyes.
Hui-yeom drew a breath and spoke again.
"Why have Sichuan and Yunnan, for all their potential and wealth, never received the treatment of the Central Plains mainstream? Why have we been unable to make full use of what we possess?
No one has yet given a clear answer to that question.
Here and now I will dare to speak that answer.
Both the cause of our two provinces' wealth and the limit of our two provinces come from the mountains.
While the vast Central Plains were engulfed in war more often than once every ten years, Sichuan and Yunnan remained peaceful.
Tall, countless mountain ranges protected us from invaders; simply by sealing the roads well we could hold off the great armies of the Central Plains.
Within those mountains we enjoyed ages of peace with resources that left us wanting for nothing.
But those same mountains were also barriers that blocked our traffic. In the land of Bashu every flow of goods had to wind and twist around long mountain ranges. That was a blessing that hindered an enemy's advance, yet it was also a shackle that hindered our vigorous economic activity.
Just as blocked blood flow causes a limb to necrotize, when the flow of logistics is blocked there is no regional development. Far from development, only decline awaits ahead.
As blood must flow, so must resources and goods. Just as blood carries nutrients to every corner of the body—from the tips of the hair to the ends of the toenails—our goods must flow in the same way.
Only when every good flows like the blood that courses through our bodies—when Sichuan rice prevents famine in Yunnan, when Yunnan tea earns vast fortunes from the Western Regions and the Central Plains—can our prosperity be promised.
Until now, time in Sichuan has stood still.
Now, at this historic moment when the heart called logistics is about to beat again, you are present with us.
The whistle that the steam locomotive developed by our Sichuan Dang Family will soon sound is the pulse of Bashu logistics, once stopped, beginning to beat once more; it is the first birth-cry of a reborn Bashu future as it enters the world.
Ladies and gentlemen, greet this historic moment with thunderous applause.
Steam Locomotive No. 1, Birth Cry No. 1—depart!"
When Hui-yeom roared the final words with internal energy behind them, the great red cloth that had concealed the steam locomotive's body was swept away and the machine revealed itself to the world.
At Hui-yeom's signal Han Cheol gave a hand sign; the work-site foreman who saw it raised a flag.
Then a high, piercing whistle split the air—
Piiiiiiiiiiieeee—!!
"L-look at that!"
"That huge iron dragon is moving!"
"The wheels—the wheels are turning!"
Slowly, very slowly, the iron wheels began to roll; gradually they gathered speed…
Chuff-chuff-chuff-chuff…
The crowd, almost without realizing it, began walking along beside the train that moved at a child's walking pace.
The speed increased—to an adult's walking pace, then a light jog—until at last—
"Waaaaaaaaaah!!!"
"Long live the Sichuan Dang Family!"
"Long live the Provincial Administration Commissioner!!"
At a speed comparable to a galloping horse the train pulled away into the distance, and the people chased after its receding form, shouting with joy.
Watching the scene quietly, Bang Un—Head of the Legal Department and Chief Advisor of the Sichuan Dang Family External Legal Advisory Committee—let out a soft sigh.
"I may be witnessing the beginning of a new age."
The fervor did not end there.
The train ran roughly eighty li—about thirty-two kilometers—from Chengdu City down the Min River to the stockyard of the State-run Ironworks.
The people of the Dang Family, Nokshan, and Huiyeon Comprehensive Construction who had been waiting restlessly at the stockyard for the train to arrive erupted in earth-shaking cheers the moment they saw the steam locomotive charging toward them, belching smoke.
"Waaaaaaaaaah!!"
"Whoa!! Holy shit!! It works?! This is real?!"
"Of course it does! You don't trust the Young Master?! You're from Nokshan, aren't you?!"
"Who cares if it's Nokshan or Huiyeon or the Dang Family! We're all colleagues making a living together!"
"The Young Master! He's a god! The Young Master is a god!"
"Is the Young Master your buddy, you bastard?!"
Laughter, shouts, and cheers.
When Birth Cry No. 1, having completed its splendid first run, came to a halt at the stockyard, the laborers who had been shoveling coal in the tender car walked out grinning, white teeth flashing against soot-blackened faces.
People hung flower garlands around their necks and tossed them into the air, expressing their joy in every way they knew.
That day Birth Cry No. 1 set a record of hauling four cartloads of iron ore at a single stretch, ten times faster than the carts that had once wound around the mountain roads.
It was a triumph made possible by not having to detour around the mountains, and by the fact that, unlike horses, a train never tires.
Just as Hui-yeom had said, it was nothing less than a momentous event: the rebirth of Sichuan logistics that had long been blocked by high mountains and deep valleys.
And with that event, the last lingering doubts held by the government offices and the laborers vanished completely; the speed of construction took on wings.
Thus, by the time winter was drawing to a close again, every major city in Sichuan had been linked by both roads and railways—an achievement that seemed almost impossible, yet was the result of mobilizing large numbers of martial artists who functioned as living heavy machinery.
But just when the Sichuan Dang Family's future seemed nothing but triumph upon triumph, a crisis born of that very success descended upon them.
On a bright, clear day, Sichuan Province had to receive a procession of imperial envoys who had come down from Beijing.
"What in the world is that?"
"Get down, you idiot! Can't you tell? Those are officials from the court!"
"W-what did you say?"
The visit of an envoy riding in a palanquin, a high official bearing His Majesty the Emperor's edict, set all of Sichuan buzzing.
"Surely nothing bad has happened to the Dang Family…?"
"What could the Dang Family have done wrong? Their only crime is letting us eat well and live well!"
"Maybe they're here to give a reward?"
While the people murmured with curiosity, the envoy crossed the streets of Chengdu and at last arrived before the main gate of the Sichuan Dang Family, where he cried out in a voice full of authority.
"Young Master of the Sichuan Dang Family, Dang Hui-yeom—come forth at once and receive His Majesty the Emperor's edict!"
What on earth is going on?