Aftermath Cleanup (2)
Hanyang, Changdeok Palace, Donhwamun Gate
"Emergency dispatch! Urgent messenger from the northern outpost of Onseong! Clear the way!"
The stillness at Sungnyemun Gate shattered under the thunder of galloping hooves. The messenger, who had ridden without rest for three days and nights, was a pitiful sight. His horse frothed at the mouth and staggered, while his uniform was caked in dust and dried sweat.
"Open the gates! This is an earth-shaking express from the Governor of Hamgyong Province!"
Before the gate guards could even block his path, the messenger spurred toward Gwanghwamun. The capital's citizens, gripped by an ominous foreboding, buzzed with murmurs as they trailed behind.
Upon reaching the courtyard before Geunjeongjeon Hall, the messenger tumbled from his horse like a falling stone, collapsing to the ground.
"The north... a rebellion in the north...!"
The royal secretaries rushed forward and snatched the leather tube from his bosom. Inside was an ultra-urgent official report, stamped with the Governor of Hamgyong Province's seal and marked with two bold red lines.
URGENT REPORT
Hundreds of bandits have launched a surprise raid on Onseong County Fortress. The entire county is now engulfed in flames. The gates were breached with ease, and Magistrate Yi Si-woo has vanished amid the chaos—likely fleeing in cowardice. Onseong teeters on the brink of total collapse. We urgently request reinforcements!
Hanyang, Changdeok Palace, Private Quarters
The private quarters were a scene of utter pandemonium. King Jeongjo's fingertips trembled faintly as he scanned the report.
"What... what in heaven's name is this? The gates of a border town breached so easily? What has the Governor of Hamgyong Province been doing?!"
The king's thunderous rebuke echoed off the ceiling. At that moment, Noron leader Sim Hwan-ji stepped forward with eager strides, his voice laced with unconcealed glee.
"Your Majesty! Have you heard? This is the tragic result of placing an ignorant upstart in a vital northern stronghold! Yi Si-woo proved incompetent, unable to even hold the gates—and now he's clearly cowering somewhere, begging for his life!"
Jeongjo's eyes narrowed.
"The Governor holds military authority over Hamgyong! He should have mobilized nearby forces on his own initiative. How dare he beg for reinforcements in his report?!"
Sim Hwan-ji slithered forth with a serpent's tongue, replying shamelessly.
"Your Majesty, Governor Kim is a man who upholds the law like an ironclad decree! These are hundreds of ferocious bandits, and with the Qing Empire watching from behind, this concerns the kingdom's border security. How could he move troops without Your Majesty's explicit secret order and firm imperial decree?"
"If the operation goes even slightly awry and sparks diplomatic friction, who would bear the grave sin of acting unilaterally? Governor Kim adheres strictly to procedure, moving only with Your Majesty's solemn permission!"
It was blatant inaction, a mere excuse. Right State Councillor Chae Je-gong fixed Sim Hwan-ji with a icy glare.
"Lord Sim! Mind your tongue! The Governor has authority to act as circumstances demand in emergencies—yet with troops right at hand, he hides behind 'procedure' while Onseong's people die? Is this because Governor Kim is cousin to Lord Kim Gwi-ju that you're shielding him so openly?!"
"Lord Chae! Is that the priority now? Look at the Governor's report! The magistrate fled, and Onseong's people are being slaughtered—who bears the blame? Who was it that called Yi Si-woo a 'northern prodigy' and placed him there? The sin of appointing an incompetent and clouding the nation's vision cannot be escaped!"
Chae Je-gong's voice sank low in rebuttal to Sim Hwan-ji's nonsense.
"Lord Sim, watch your words. Wasn't it you and the Noron lords who first recommended this magistrate as northern talent? Now that your own protégé faces crisis, you offer no aid—instead scheming to pin it on His Majesty's appointment? What shameless inversion is this?"
Gripping his scepter tightly, Chae Je-gong stared Sim Hwan-ji down.
"Do you think I don't see through your brazen scheme—driving a frontier magistrate to his death, using his sacrifice to shake the court's discipline? Was Governor Kim's inaction truly for 'procedure,' or to align with Lord Kim Gwi-ju's will? His Majesty sees the meaning in that cowardly silence!"
Sim Hwan-ji's eyelids twitched at Chae Je-gong's reprimand. Naming Kim Gwi-ju had struck home; panic rippled among the Noron officials. But Jeongjo remained unshaken. Instead, resolve burned in his eyes.
'This magistrate... they're using you as a sacrificial pawn to strangle me. But I believe in you. You're no timber to fall as they wish.'
In his heart, Jeongjo issued a quiet command to the northern skies.
'Survive. Return victorious. Give me the pretext to sever their serpentine tongues with a single stroke.'
The quarters' heated debate faded into Jeongjo's silence.
A week passed.
The court was inundated with Noron memorials demanding Yi Si-woo's dismissal and punishment, and urging the Governor to act decisively. Led by Sim Hwan-ji, the Noron ministers were convinced Si-woo had fallen to bandits or fled in terror. They ratcheted up pressure on Jeongjo daily.
As Jeongjo pondered his final decision in heavy silence, a shout rocked the capital from beyond Donhwamun.
"Victory report! Triumph from northern Onseong! The head of bandit chief Batu has arrived! Clear the way!"
Unlike the wretched dispatch a week prior, this was a triumphant cry. Behind the messenger's horse, crossing Sungnyemun and the Six Ministries Street, rumbled large wooden crates sealed tightly in red cloth.
The quarters reconvened in haste. Officials gaped like they'd seen ghosts; Sim Hwan-ji's face drained to ashen, lips quivering.
"Your Majesty! A messenger from Onseong in Hamgyong has arrived!"
The messenger prostrated himself, shouting hoarsely.
"Magistrate Yi Si-woo, single-handedly repelled over two hundred bandits and claimed the head of their fiend Batu! Here is the proof of victory offered to Your Majesty by the magistrate!"
Jeongjo's eyes flashed.
"Open it."
At the king's command, eunuchs broke the seals. The lids flew open, flooding the quarters with the reek of blood and salt. Batu's massive head, preserved in salt and unable to close its eyes, rolled onto the floor.
"Urk! Bluuuugh...!"
A low-ranking Noron official retched, clutching his mouth and collapsing. The severed stump, darkened flesh, and glaring eyes were beyond what pampered capital bureaucrats could stomach. Dry heaves echoed in the solemn hall, but none blamed him—the sight was overwhelming.
Jeongjo rose slowly from the throne and descended the steps. Halting before the head, he bellowed with dignified authority.
"Batu, who terrorized all eight circuits of Hamgyong, reduced to a salt-cured hunk of meat at my feet. Lord Sim, is this the result of the coward you claimed was begging for life in hiding?"
Sim Hwan-ji could only kowtow wordlessly.
Jeongjo reached into the crate, retrieving a small bamboo tube sealed with red thread hidden beneath the head.
"Despite Governor Kim's refusal to move troops, citing lack of secret orders, Yi Si-woo rallied Onseong's people alone and defended the northern skies. You who prattle of law—dare call him incompetent before this trophy?!"
The quarters fell deathly silent under Jeongjo's roar. He turned softly to the prostrate messenger.
"Messenger, answer. Did the magistrate send anything beyond this head?"
The man bowed low, voice trembling.
"Yes, Your Majesty. He salted and sent the ears of over two hundred slain bandits. And... he commanded this red-sealed tube be delivered solely to Your Majesty, at the risk of his life."
Jeongjo lifted the tightly sealed bamboo tube. Before the assembled ministers, he opened it and withdrew the letter inside.
Only the rustle of paper filled the hall as Jeongjo read Si-woo's report, agonizingly slow, word by word. Until his heavy gaze reached the end, not a whisper or cough broke the silence.
The Noron ministers, led by Sim Hwan-ji, watched Jeongjo's face, gulping dryly—but it remained an emotionless statue.
Folding the letter neatly into his sleeve, Jeongjo swept his silent gaze over the prostrate officials.
"......"
His wordless stare stabbed like daggers. The ministers longed for even a rebuke, but Jeongjo held his ponderous silence.
At last, he spoke curtly.
"Court is adjourned for today."
That was all. No praise for victory, no inquisition of traitors—Jeongjo simply rose and vanished behind the throne.
Dazed Noron ministers exchanged uneasy glances, retreating awkwardly. Ignorant of what the tube held, their terror deepened.
Deep into the night, only Right State Councillor Chae Je-gong arrived secretly at Jeongjo's bedchamber, Gangnyeongjeon.
Jeongjo unfurled Si-woo's secret report from his sleeve.
"Lord Chae, come closer. Here's the truth of the north I couldn't voice by day."
Chae Je-gong frowned as he read. The report detailed how Onseong's east gate fell not to enemy might, but internal betrayal.
"No seal, yet the script and paper texture speak volumes. I ask you—who but the capital's vipers would orchestrate such cruelty?"
Jeongjo's voice sank low.
"Opening our gates with their own hands to invite foes. To kill this magistrate, they cared naught for border security."
Chae Je-gong bowed gravely.
"Your Majesty, they've committed near-treason. Shall we present this proof and strike?"
"No. Yi Si-woo wrote at the end: he'll sever their funding from Onseong and uproot them, leaving the capital rats to me. While he swings the sword north, I'll wield this letter to choke their throats."
Jeongjo held the report to the candlelight, murmuring.
"Lord Chae, it begins now. With this silence, I'll drain their blood until they crumble themselves."
As Jeongjo gripped the paper, its crumple echoed like a throat constricted, filling the chamber.