Water Knows the Answer
Land-grabbing.
The local gentry of the provinces had, for generations, inherited their wealth from their ancestors and, on the strength of their influence over their territories, ruled like high ministers and great officials. In extreme cases these clans produced actual high officials in numbers and actively forged collusive ties with power. Because they were the long-entrenched masters of a region, even the three highest provincial authorities—the Provincial Administration Commissioner, the Regional Military Commissioner, and the Surveillance Commissioner—preferred not to touch them if they could help it.
After all, those three were fixed-term officials. Once their terms ended they would be reassigned elsewhere. They only needed to get through their tenure in peace, and if they wanted to get anything done in the region it was far easier to secure the cooperation of the local gentry. Why go looking for trouble? Besides, unlike the martial clans of the jianghu, households that were already entangled with political power were dangerous to provoke.
Among these gentry houses there were some that preferred not to seek office at all, but to amass fortunes by every crooked means available. The pig with the goatee, Gwak Pil-do, was a textbook specimen of the corrupt, wealth-hoarding type.
When they heard that an outfit no one had ever heard of—the Angang Water Transport Safety Management Corporation—was launching large-scale construction all along the banks of the Yangtze, their first thought was how to carve a piece out of it. According to rumor, however, the project had been ordered by the state itself, and one of the Eight Great Families of the Empire, the Gong clan of Gongzhong Valley, also had a hand in it. That ruled out simply sticking a straw in the middle and sucking out a generous cut.
Still, the opportunity was too good to watch with open eyes. In the end Gwak Pil-do found the optimal move: buy up every plot expected to fall under the construction path, or, for unsurveyed land, forge official documents to transfer ownership to himself, then demand an extortionate price.
When Hui-yeom’s expression hardened, Gwak Pil-do sneered inwardly.
Go ahead and make that face, you arrogant Sichuan hick. I don’t know what pretty lies you whispered to His Majesty with that smooth face of yours to snatch a project this size… but heh. This is exactly what they mean when they say the bear does the tricks and the man takes the money!
“….”
Watching Hui-yeom appear to deliberate, Gwak Pil-do smiled slyly.
“It would be wise to decide quickly. The price rises with every day that passes, ahem!”
“….”
The faint, almost nonexistent smile on Hui-yeom’s face froze, then bloomed into something bright and sunny.
“No. I’ll go back and look into a few things first.”
“Hmph. Suit yourself.”
Gwak Pil-do snorted right back.
“I’ll say this in advance—going to the three provincial commissioners to cry about it will do you no good. I, ah, dine with those gentlemen! Drink with them! Enjoy the refined arts with them! We’re that close!”
“Yes, I’m sure you are.”
When Hui-yeom withdrew with the same smiling face, Gwak Pil-do felt an inexplicable irritation and spat thickly on the ground.
“Acting so relaxed… damn brat.”
That nameless unease was the last warning sent by his rat-like sense for danger; he should not have dismissed it.
Sama Yun spoke to Hui-yeom with an unusually chilly expression.
“Shall I tell the main house and have him crushed? Or we could inform Lord Baek Beon and let the Eastern Depot clean him out.”
She found the situation so absurd she hardly knew whether to laugh. Who was Dang Hui-yeom? The man who had received a private audience with His Majesty himself, who had been entrusted with the overall planning and execution of this great national project and virtually all authority over it. Though he still held no formal office, he was in effect the acting Minister of Works—and a mere local gentry was playing these games with him?
So this was what they meant by a newborn pup that didn’t know enough to fear the tiger. After generations of living like kings in the provinces without ever colliding with central power, had their sense of reality simply withered?
She carefully studied her husband’s face. How offended must he be?
Yet Hui-yeom’s reaction was a little different from what she expected. He gave a short, amused laugh.
“Reminds me of the old days—stomping the construction companies that hired thug enforcers.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
He shook his head, still smiling.
He could handle it by the book. If he wished, this petty villain who relied on a scrap of local power and provincial clout would be utterly pulverized by the terrifying machinery of central authority. But that would take time. Couriers traveling to and from Beijing, meticulous investigation of every crime the little bastard had committed… construction would be delayed by months at the least, and losses would pile up. By then it would already be summer. The rainy season and the river floods would force them to shut the entire works down, effectively throwing away half a year.
More than anything, Hui-yeom simply refused to tolerate a delay caused by the schemes of trash like this.
“People seem to get the wrong idea because I usually handle things according to principle… but I am, after all, a man of the jianghu.”
His smile sank into shadow.
“If a local gentry wants to lecture me on provincial law, then I am obliged to teach him the law of the martial world.”
“Shall I contact the main house?”
“No need for the wife’s family to step in over something this small. It’s beneath their dignity.”
Hui-yeom said,
“Conveniently, I have exactly the right people for the job.”
That gentry had, without realizing it, tried to sabotage the livelihood and fresh start of “them.” So leaving the punishment in their hands was only rational, wasn’t it?
Hearing this, Sama Yun’s expression turned curious.
“…I didn’t know you had this side to you, my husband.”
“Disappointed that I’m not a sage?”
“Hardly.”
She gave a short, scornful laugh.
“If you’re nothing but a nice person you’ll never climb in politics, business, or the jianghu. Look at Zhuge Liang—he stayed loyal to a foolish sovereign and worked himself to death. Our own founding ancestor, on the other hand, realized the Cao house was unfit for the throne and took it himself. Schemes are only needed against opponents of matching caliber. For bugs like this, stomping them on behalf of the common folk they’ve fleeced is the proper way of a jianghu knight-errant. I approve!”
“….”
For a fleeting moment Hui-yeom thought, Isn’t that exact mindset why the Zhuge clan is respected and the Sima clan is condemned? He ignored it.
In the small hours of that same night, Gwak Pil-do—who had been toying with his newly acquired concubine Hyang-wol before falling asleep early—woke with a sudden thirst.
“Ugh… my head.”
Had he drunk too much? Groping about, he lit the lamp and, still half-blind, reached for the water bowl. Suddenly the bowl was pressed into his hand.
“Ah, thanks.”
Assuming it was Hyang-wol who shared his bed, he drained the cold water in one long gulp. Only when the chill cleared his head and he opened his eyes did he see the man sitting in front of him. He nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Wh-what the—!”
Gwak Pil-do yelped in shock.
“You mad bandit! How dare you set your filthy feet in this place! Someone! Is no one out there?!”
Even a mongrel dog is king in its own yard; he barked with all the bluster he could muster. No one came running.
“What—what are you lazy servants doing?! Get up this instant and come here!”
The masked man watched him for a moment, then laughed as if he could not believe what he was hearing.
“Want to see the servants?”
“Who—who are you?! Do you not fear the government troops?! Do you think you’ll walk away from this unharmed?!”
“Oh, shut up.”
The man drove a fist into Gwak Pil-do’s face. A middle-aged man with no martial training had no chance of blocking a trained fist; Gwak Pil-do flopped onto the bed like a frog.
The man dragged the unconscious Gwak Pil-do out like a sack of goods, then noticed Hyang-wol, who had woken and was clutching the blanket around her bare body, trembling. He put a finger to his lips.
“Shhh.”
Hyang-wol nodded frantically.
Gwak Pil-do came to much later.
The creaking of twisted wood, the slap of river water, the gentle rocking—he woke naturally to those sounds and looked around to take stock.
Then,
“Awake?”
A voice reached him.
They were on a boat mid-river. Not a tall multi-decked vessel, nor a narrow skiff, but something broad, flat, and low, as if planks had been laid over a raft of lashed logs—so low it barely looked like a boat at all. A modern person would have recognized it at once as a flat-bottomed barge of the era, built for hauling materials and cargo. Gwak Pil-do did not.
On that barge sat a clean-featured man with a cold edge to his look, and around him stood several hulking figures.
“Wh-where is this?”
At the terrified question the clean-faced man—Ha Tae-ryong, the King of the Yangtze—gave a short laugh.
“‘Where is this?’ You’re talking down to me.”
“Boss, this bastard still hasn’t figured out the situation.”
“Boss, that’s exactly how he ended up in this mess—mouthing off without knowing where he stands.”
The snickering men made Gwak Pil-do’s spine prickle. He swallowed dryly without meaning to.
Ha Tae-ryong scowled.
“Hey, do we look like some black-path gang? What’s this ‘Boss’ crap? We’re honest businessmen now. Call me President. Director Shim.”
“Yes, President. Heh-heh. So what do we do with the clueless one… dunk him?”
Sensing that things had gone very wrong, Gwak Pil-do twisted desperately—only to discover he was trussed like a caterpillar in rope. Panic burst out of him.
“You bastards!! Do you think you’ll get away with this?! I’ll have you know that for generations in this Gongchang County I—!”
“Ah, shit, this is way too loud. Hey, what are you waiting for? The President’s getting a headache.”
Director Shim’s face darkened. One of the masked men beside him simply kicked Gwak Pil-do. The blow to the gut emptied his lungs and sent him straight into the river.
Splash—gurgle…!!
…!!! …!!!!
Gwak Pil-do’s mind went blank. The agony of nearly vomiting his organs forced the breath out of him underwater; a full dipper of river water rushed in. Water flooded his nose and mouth at once, bringing a drowning terror and a searing burn through his lungs.
I-I’m dying…!
He thrashed for his life. Suddenly he was yanked upward as if a fisherman had hooked him. He sailed through the air and slammed onto the barge deck, where he vomited water, tears, and snot all at once.
“Bleeegh!! Cough! Cough! Gaaah!!”
Between retching and gasping and choking he made a spectacular mess of himself. Ha Tae-ryong waited until he quieted a little, then flipped casually through a sheaf of papers and sneered.
“Wow. This bastard’s a demonic sect leader all by himself. Over a hundred commoners dead by his hand already?”
“Sir? Is that true?”
“According to these records, yes.”
“Even a local gentry—how did the yamen just leave him alone? They throw fits at us for less!”
“You think he went around saying ‘I killed them myself’? The people whose fortunes he seized and the ones he murdered are all listed as our handiwork. Look.”
Gwak Pil-do had been cruel and vicious. To seize land he coveted he colluded with yamen clerks to forge documents, abducted people and beat them into cripples, or simply made them vanish without a trace. People ground their teeth at his crimes yet dared not resist for fear of retaliation.
“Whoa, it’s real? Damn, this guy was pure barbarian stock. Worth keeping alive?”
Gwak Pil-do’s mind snapped clear. He lifted his head mid-vomit.
“Uuuuh!! Spare me! Spare my life and I’ll do anything!”
“Ohhh?”
Ha Tae-ryong handed the papers to Director Shim, then strolled over, seized Gwak Pil-do by the hair, and hauled him up.
“You gonna shit on the Angang project—or not?”
“Wh-what do you mean by that…?”
“Aigoo… not ready to talk yet. Director Shim.”
“Yes.”
“Aaaargh!!”
Splash!!
Director Shim temporarily converted Gwak Pil-do’s species to fish. He reeled him in and let him go several times; after only three or four dunks Gwak Pil-do began saying exactly what Ha Tae-ryong wanted to hear.
“I-I’ll keep my hands off! I won’t even piss in Angang’s direction! Please! Please stop! Please!!”
“See? Works like a charm, right? Water always knows the answer.”
Ha Tae-ryong chuckled, nodded, and tapped out his pipe.
Then he said,
“Hey, piglet.”
“Y-yes, yes!!”
“Listen carefully. I’m giving you exactly one chance. If you go home today and anything unsavory happens again… I’ll show you what comes next. Director Shim.”
“Yes. Boys.”
Director Shim clapped. Several former river pirates of the Eighteen Strongholds of the Yangtze Waterways rolled large wine jars toward them on their sides. Gwak Pil-do was still wondering why wine jars when he saw the people inside them and nearly fainted.
“N-no?!”
They were none other than the local black-path thugs who had, on Gwak Pil-do’s orders, trampled anyone in the villages who crossed him, who treated plunder and rape like meals, and who had lived under the protection of his power. Because Gwak Pil-do threw money around like water and called the county magistrate “brother,” the magistrate had half-closed his eyes; the thugs had strutted about as his hunting dogs, letting him rule several small villages through terror.
Now those same dogs sat inside wine jars like hounds boiled after the hunt, their bodies buried up to the neck under something gray and stone-like. They were bloody and gagged. After whatever brutal torture they had already endured, they barely moved.
Ha Tae-ryong said,
“I only learned this recently, but it’s a damn fine method.
What are you waiting for, boys? The Dragon King of the Yangtze is waiting. Send them on their way.”
At his word the Angang men snickered and tipped the jars into the river.
Plop, plop, plop!
Naturally, the concrete-set black-path scum would never surface again.
“Hey, Gwak. Look over there. What do you see?”
“H-hiiik, heeeh…”
Shaking with terror, Gwak Pil-do turned. Twelve more jars stood waiting.
Ha Tae-ryong tapped his head lightly.
“Those jars… match the exact number of your family. You understand what I’m saying?”
Gwak Pil-do’s face went bone-white. His lips trembled. Ha Tae-ryong continued,
“Luckily they’re still empty. But if you keep acting greasy after I let you go… you know what I mean?”
“Yes! Yes! I understand! I’ll live cleanly! I’ll cooperate with Angang’s project completely!!”
“That’s the spirit. Don’t shit on our business, and if anyone else ends up wronged because of you… one by one they take a jar-ride to tour the Dragon Palace. You know how to keep the Gwak family living long and happy, right? Live nicely. Live nicely.”
“Yes!”
“Ah, and reporting to the yamen won’t help.”
Ha Tae-ryong snickered.
“The magistrate who’s been covering your back is about to lose his head to the Surveillance Commissioner. If you want to move house to the bottom of the Yangtze together, be my guest.”
Only then did Gwak Pil-do realize this was no reckless black-path threat made without thought of consequences; power itself stood behind it. Every shred of resistance left him. He hung his head and wept.
The next day, after receiving Ha Tae-ryong’s report, Hui-yeom gave a short laugh.
“Didn’t you put a little too much effort into a small fry, President?”
“Oh no, not at all, not at all. Just letting a bastard who tried nonsense with the Chairman live is already more than he deserves.”
Ha Tae-ryong bowed and scraped. Hui-yeom’s status had changed completely since their old negotiations, and this was also a clear declaration that he intended to switch sides for good.
“You fished out all those thugs you dunked and handed them over to the yamen, correct?”
“Of course. The Gwak bastard is certain they’re all dead, but… heh-heh.”
“Good. A little scare is enough. You’re a new man yourself now, aren’t you, President?”
“Absolutely, absolutely.”
Hui-yeom grinned.
“I suspect there are more of his kind. Clean them up as you see fit.”
“Leave it to me!”
Along the counties lining the Yangtze, various ruffians and the vicious gentry and bandits who had backed them suddenly turned into gentle lambs—or simply vanished. Remarkably, no one paid the slightest attention.
It took a little time, but after touring the construction sites along the Yangtze, Hui-yeom arrived in Beijing, stepped onto the Caffe the One construction site, and his mouth fell open.
“…What… is this?”