Chapter 1037: There Are Sea Creatures in the Sea (2)

Well water does not invade river water.

It meant that the water in a well did not trespass into the river’s water, because, well, a well and a river were separate things.

The water in a well and the water in a river belonged to entirely different water systems, so even from the standpoint of scientific rigor, there was nothing much to criticize about the saying.

If one insisted on translating it into the speech of Qing’s homeland, it was an elegant expression roughly equivalent to, Not my problem, or, Mind your own business and let’s each go our own way.

But when martial artists and officials became entangled, the saying took on another meaning.

The noninterference between officials and martial artists.

This was a culture born from the current state of this pseudo-Central Plains, where martial arts had already become so irreversibly widespread that individuals could reach transcendent levels of force—

—and from the inadequacy of local administration that this era could not help but have.

At this point, trying to bring the martial world under control would, in practice, plunge the entire world into a war like the Spring and Autumn and Warring States period.

Well, unless it had all been firmly brought to heel from the very beginning of the current Central Plains.

But at the time, the martial world had played a real part in the war of independence that freed the Central Plains from the previous dynasty, the barbarian occupiers, so there had not really been any great justification for suppressing it.

In truth, there had once been a chance to bring the martial world to heel.

It was right when the current imperial dynasty had first been established.

But at that time, the first emperor of House Zhu had another force he absolutely had to subjugate besides the martial world.

Namely, the Radiant Cult, House Zhu’s backer and patron—

—and therefore its greatest creditor.

So House Zhu had had to choose between attacking the martial world and betraying the Radiant Cult.

Because to strike one side, it would have needed the help of the other.

The choices before House Zhu were these:

Attack the martial world, which was obviously going to become a problem later but was not a major problem right now.

Or attack a pack of fanatical religious lunatics who were not only the current emperor’s single most crucial support base and creditor, but also wanted the Radiant Cult declared the state religion and, on top of that, were hoping for a dual rule of emperor and Supreme Holy Flame Priestess—and who even already possessed a well-trained army.

House Zhu’s choice, naturally enough, had been the latter.

The first emperor’s duty was to exalt imperial authority and build a strong central government to lay the foundation of the empire, so how could he possibly leave alone those Radiant Cultists who dared dream of carving up imperial power with him?

(House Zhu had been Radiant Cultists too, but still.)

And so the first and last joint officials-and-martial-world campaign had taken place: the suppression war against the heretical cult.

The Radiant Cultists, who had fought so hard only to be stabbed in the back and driven into the ranks of traitors, would later cross the desert and repeatedly unleash bloody chaos upon the Central Plains, burning with hatred for both the empire and the martial world.

Well, afterward, they supposedly gave up on revenge thanks to the appearance of one great sage and were reborn as true people of faith, or so the story went.

Anyway.

That was how the history of the noninterference between officials and martial artists had begun, and now it had completely settled in as one of the Central Plains’ own traditions.

But not every official accepted tradition.

Military officers in particular tended to harbor strong resentment toward it.

Because to ordinary officials, martial artists were dangerous beings who made one think, Those bastards would cut off my head if they got upset enough.

But to the generals of the military, martial artists were just naked brats swaggering around with their pitiful individual force.

Things that could be annihilated if the army marched out properly, yet strutted about without the slightest fear of the military.

So once you got to the rank of general, your attitude toward martial artists naturally ended up mixed at the root with a fundamental annoyance.

General Kim Jigang, Assistant Commander of the Shaoxing Guard, was no different.

What? The Dutch bastards suddenly bombarded the city? There were significant casualties, and the property damage was horrific? Why the hell all of a sudden?

What? Trade? What kind of illiterate bastard fires cannonballs because he wants to open trade?

What? And then some passing martial artist smashed them to pieces? Swam all the way to the ships and—no, fine, let’s grant the swimming part—but then butchered armed sailors in a cramped interior? What, had they been reading chivalric adventure stories?

And yet, it had actually happened.

“General, the chivalric hero has eaten.”

Utterly reverent address.

Well, it was complicated for the General, but to the soldiers, who knew none of that mess, Qing was a hero of the ages and a benefactor they owed gratitude to.

“No, what the hell? Is that ‘hero’ your superior officer? The dignity of the army—ha, forget it.”

And then the so-called hero in question appeared inside the command cabin of the General’s flagship.

Oddly enough, she was wearing an officer’s clothes, but that was probably because she had had no change of clothes and had borrowed something for the moment.

Though somehow the chest was bulging so badly it looked ready to burst.

So the hero had been a woman?

“I am Kim Jigang, Assistant Commander of the Shaoxing Guard. First of all, ahem, I must express my thanks. That spirit with which you rose up in loyal devotion to the nation was truly magnificent.”

“That was only natural. I didn’t do it to spread my name. It was simply what I ought to do as one citizen.”

“Ahem. The thing is... the matter has become rather complicated. It can’t quite be allowed to pass just like this...”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Mmm, well...”

The General hesitated for a moment, then in the end laid out his true thoughts honestly.

The General’s heart was complicated.

He was grateful, yet resentful. Resentful, yet grateful. And the more grateful he felt, the more resentful it became all over again...

To begin with, he really was grateful.

The Central Plains already had a certain amount of information on Western sailing ships, after all, because they were carrying on thriving trade with Portugal.

Those Westerners’ sailing ships were gigantic vessels, with the sturdiness that came from their size and overwhelmingly superior firepower from dozens of cannons mounted aboard.

To fight them properly, one needed treasure-ship class vessels—at the bare minimum broadship class vessels. With only the medium Fortune Ship class and smaller patrol-ship class craft, they would have had no choice but to accept major losses.

And yet she had repelled them without the loss of even a single ship—no, not even the loss of a single person.

Of course that was something to be thankful for.

But then what, exactly, did that make them?

While some martial artist went in and cleaned up the foreign enemies, they arrived a step late and then...

What?

Just arrived?

The General felt wronged.

He had not even come late.

They had seen the beacon request, urgently mustered the full force, and driven themselves hard to get there.

But unless one had already been peering into the enemy’s guts, how could one possibly have gone ahead and been prepared first?

And this was not something that could simply be smoothed over with a, Well, all’s well that ends well.

It was a matter tied to the face of the army.

If word of this spread widely, given the military’s tendency to look down on martial artists...

Ha ha, General Kim, I hear your unit outsources foreign-enemy suppression to martial artists? Truly wondrous soldiering. In that case, you should just keep outsourcing from now on. Though if so, why does your army need to exist at all? Ha ha ha.

I hear the praise being sung across Shanghai and Suzhou for some mysterious hero is truly deafening. A righteous figure of the age who defeated foreign enemies in place of the army, they say? A fine thing, really—it means even those martial-world riffraff possess loyalty to the state. But then people ask what exactly the army was doing all that time. Hmm, General Kim, what am I supposed to answer them?

And the problem did not end at mere face.

New-model artillery? Why not just use martial artists? Ah, or are you perhaps looking for cannons that fire martial artists instead of cannonballs? I hear General Kim is famous for using martial artists so effectively.

You want to replace aging ships? Hmm. But do you really need ships? If you use martial artists, won’t they just swim to enemy ships on their own? I don’t understand why a general with such miraculous strategic vision would be so fixated on vessels.

You want to recruit new troops? Ha. At last your true colors show. Well, it may not be easy to recruit martial artists, but by all means, I’ll be looking forward to it.

The face of the army meant treatment.

And that could end up reducing support to the entire Shaoxing Guard.

“So... though I am ashamed to ask, would it perhaps be possible to make it so that this affair was the result of our army’s stratagem? Naturally, we would compensate you more than sufficiently...”

The General’s face was bright red as he said it.

Because even he knew what a pitiful and shameful thing he was asking.

At that, the chivalric hero, Qing, thought:

Now that she heard it, it actually sounded reasonable.

Though there was one thing she was curious about.

“You said your men came as fast as possible once the beacons were raised, General. But if you only move after seeing the beacons, aren’t you always bound to be one step late? This time it was the Dutch barbarians’ little trick, but I’ve heard Japanese pirate incursions are frequent to begin with. Do you always just respond after the enemy attacks?”

“Ahem. That cannot be helped.”

“Cannot be helped?”

“Water battles are unlike fighting on land. In them, numbers and firepower are absolute.”

Unlike on land, where one could build walls and hold out, in water warfare, where there were no obstacles, the number of ships was the greatest single measure of victory and defeat.

Suppose you wanted to repel ten enemy ships.

With five ships of the same class, you would never win unless you had miraculous strategy and tactics, or the help of nature itself.

If you had ten ships of the same class, then the better commander, the better-trained marines, and the luckier side would win. But even if they won, the damage would be tremendous.

If you had twenty ships of the same class, then naturally you would win, but you would still have to accept a certain amount of loss.

But if you had forty ships of the same class?

The enemy would probably run before fighting in the first place, but even if they stood and fought, your own losses would be almost nothing.

“That is why the Water Forces only show their true power when concentrated in one place. Even if we detached a portion to Shanghai, it would not amount to much of a defense.”

Even if they sent part of the force, it would not do much if the enemy actually came in.

And even if they sent them as scouts, a request for aid by beacon would still be much faster anyway. How was a ship supposed to row upstream, arrive, and ask for help in time?

“And besides, the entire Water Forces cannot simply be stationed in Shanghai. There must be land enough to feed six thousand soldiers, must there not?”

It was the supply limit of this primitive ancient era.

The armies of the Central Plains had to farm and feed themselves, so the place where a large army was stationed was, in effect, not all that different from a city.

“That is why the late emperor forbade settlement on the coast in the first place, and why, if a point is important enough, the proper method is to build a fortress on land and resist there.”

“Mmm.”

Well, now that she heard that, it also sounded reasonable.

So what could she say?

Qing had not stepped in to spread her name.

And as for compensation, Qing was already rich.

Besides, it was not as though she had gained nothing. It had been a long time since she had gotten such a satisfying feel in her hands.

She had gotten more than enough fun out of it, so really...

“Hmm. I only meddled because I couldn’t just pass by. So please do as you think best, General. I only did what needed doing, so you do not need to compensate me separately. That money ought to be used where it is more useful for military affairs.”

And so Qing readily accepted the outrageously shameless request.

At that, the General’s expression filled with admiration.

He had always thought martial artists were nothing but sword-carrying hooligans, and that true heroes simply did not exist.

But here was someone who had risked her life in a matter that had nothing to do with her, asked for no reward of any kind, would not even reveal her name, and even accepted without serious hesitation the idea that her merits would be taken away.

The General, who had been leaning back in his chair, suddenly straightened into a posture of full respect. Then he sprang to his feet and bowed deeply, revealing the sparse patch on his crown.

“This Kim is truly overwhelmed with admiration. Milady is a hero sent down by heaven, the benefactor of every soldier in our Shaoxing Guard, and the great elder sister—no, the great benefactor—of this unworthy lesser man.”

“No, you really don’t have to go that far...”

“If I may ask only one thing, it is to know the Great Hero’s name and keep it in my heart, so that when our benefactor should one day need aid, I may offer the utmost sincerity.”

“No, please don’t keep me in your heart...”

And so, it was wrapping up in warm good feeling...

Or at least it seemed like it would.

*****

Before seeing the General, Qing’s state—

or rather, her appearance—

had been utterly drenched in blood.

It was wonderful to be splashed with fresh blood.

The hot warmth of it, the sticky way it clung, the fragrant smell of blood-water...

But once it cooled, well.

Cooled blood, together with human grease, turned nasty and sticky, and that once-fragrant scent changed into a rank blood-smell, making it unavoidably filthy and uncomfortable.

So really, she had to wash before meeting anyone.

She had no spare clothes, though, so for the moment she had borrowed some extra garments and put them on.

That was how Qing had gone to meet the General.

And the blood-soaked clothes Qing had left behind?

Qing had said she would pack them up later, but really, when a heroic benefactor had fought foreign enemies in your place, the least you could do was wash their clothes for them, wasn’t it?

So they washed the clothes, and since the travel bag ought to be washed too, they first had to take out its contents.

And among those contents, there was something that simply could not be ignored.

Then a soldier came running out in a panic.