Spoils of Sasuna Castle
The dawn in Sasuna Castle on Tsushima was serene. The screams and clashing metal that had rung out over the walls just hours before had vanished entirely, leaving only the thick sea fog of the southern seas to fill the cracks in the shattered tiles.
Si-woo stood before a stone basin in the rear courtyard of the castle lord's residence. He roughly stripped off his uniform, hardened stiff with gunpowder residue and bloodstains. Peeling away the layers of undergarments beneath, the morning air kissed his heated skin.
"Hoo..."
His long exhale turned to white breath that scattered in the chill. Si-woo cupped clear water in both hands and buried his face in it. The icy cold seeped through his skin, spreading across his body. After splashing a couple more times, the dark crimson blood that had caked on drained into the basin below.
"My lord! How can you, when you're not even fully recovered, subject yourself to such cold water!"
Chil-bok came rushing over from afar, clutching a silk towel. Seeing the cuts scattered across Si-woo's body, he clicked his tongue and unfurled the towel.
"Look at this. The flesh is deeply gouged here. If the Gigi-cheong folks saw you, they'd think you were some warrior fresh from the wild frontiers, not our lord. I begged you to take care of yourself..."
"Holding back from calling me a butcher, are you? This is a medal for saving the nation, isn't it?"
At Si-woo's joking remark, Chil-bok carefully applied the salve. As the stinging medicinal heat burrowed into the wound, Si-woo grimaced, stifling a short groan.
"Does it hurt badly? Any other man would be screaming."
"It hurts."
"Then show it a little. Why do you always push yourself so hard?"
"If I showed it, you'd worry even more. I'm fine—hurry and finish up."
Chil-bok bit his lip apologetically as he bound the wound tightly with silk cloth.
"Chil-bok."
"Yes, my lord."
"Hearing your nagging makes me feel alive again. The stench of blood on the battlefield is nothing compared to the human smell coming off you—far more welcome."
"Aigoo, really... If that's praise, I'll take it gladly, but please don't charge ahead next time."
As Chil-bok grumbled but meticulously finished cleaning up before withdrawing, Si-woo turned his gaze back to the distant horizon.
"Chil-bok."
"Yes, my lord."
"Bring a bowl of hot sungnyong. I need to warm my insides."
After warming his stomach with a bowl of sungnyong, Si-woo headed to the deepest part of Sasuna Castle: an underground warehouse carved from bedrock. Leading the shackled Lord of Tsushima, So Yo-shi-to-shi, who trembled uncontrollably, the heavy iron door creaked open.
Yu Jeon-gan stood beside Si-woo, torch in hand. As the door swung wide, a rush of damp mold and cold metal scent assaulted them.
Thrusting the torch forward revealed shapes lurking in the darkness.
"This is..."
Yu Jeon-gan's jaw dropped. From floor to ceiling, the warehouse brimmed with roughly smelted silver ingots and copper bars—spoils wrung from the blood of the southern provinces by the wako, war funds amassed by the Shimazu clan for their invasion of Joseon.
"Silver alone must be tens of thousands of nyang. Enough copper here to cast fifty new Gigi-cheong cannons and still have leftover."
"Exactly, Commander."
Si-woo idly kicked a silver ingot. A dull metallic thud echoed through the warehouse. Imagining dumping these before the throne in Hanyang brought a smile to his lips.
Yu Jeon-gan hefted one ingot and said, "Gigi-cheong Chief, you taking all this?"
"Of course. Just reclaiming what belongs to our people."
"Ha! Came to exterminate pirates and hit the jackpot. Shove this in the Norons' faces when they whine about budgets."
"That was the point."
Yu Jeon-gan chuckled and shook his head. But Si-woo's steps didn't halt before the silver pile. He approached a small wooden chest in the farthest corner, wrapped in layers of oiled paper.
Yu Jeon-gan followed, asking, "What's in there? Something more valuable than silver?"
Si-woo opened the chest. Yu Jeon-gan leaned in with the torch.
"A few metal lumps and paper bundles? That's it?"
"...!"
Confirming the contents, Si-woo's fingertips trembled faintly. Precision gear clusters apparently shipped from the Netherlands, and technical manuals detailing lens crafting for telescopes.
He held a gear cluster near the torch. The intricate meshing, the luster of a special alloy impossible to replicate with Joseon tech.
'Gears this sturdy could withstand bolt shock from rapid fire. And with this lens curvature formula, we could mass-produce scopes for long-range sniping.'
Yu Jeon-gan eyed Si-woo's expression. "Gigi-cheong Chief, your face is scarier than on the battlefield. Silver doesn't even register, huh? That important?"
"Not sure yet. The diagrams and equations give me the gist, but we'll confirm back at Gigi-cheong."
Si-woo tucked the manual securely into his bosom. Yu Jeon-gan shook his head.
"Tens of thousands in silver, copper bars, and tech manuals. No loss on this expedition, Gigi-cheong Chief."
"Never planned to lose."
The aroma of rice porridge wafting from the castle courtyard enveloped all of Sasuna. At first, commoners had only peeked from beyond the walls, but now they lined up at the gates with their families in tow.
Si-woo watched from the ramparts. Beside him, Yu Jeon-gan marveled.
"A whole week already. Our supplies aren't infinite."
"No worries, Commander. We're feeding them from the lord's hoarded reserves he siphoned off—not our grain. We're just taking credit for his rice; no bad deal."
Si-woo waved lightly, and Jangyongyeong soldiers below raised their voices.
"This rice is bestowed by His Majesty the King of Joseon, who pities your hunger! Your lord abandoned you, but Joseon feeds you!"
Interpreters bellowed it repeatedly. Elders receiving porridge bowls bowed, glancing at each other. Soon, one quavered, "The King of Joseon... has saved us."
That sparked it—a dam breaking, voices spreading.
"Long live His Majesty!"
"Long live! Long live!!"
Clumsy pronunciation, but the fervor reached the walls intact. The Japanese in the courtyard bowed toward Joseon's king.
Yu Jeon-gan whistled. "Gigi-cheong Chief, a few sacks of rice and you've shaken the whole island's hearts."
"Hearts are simple. They cower under blades but kneel before a full bowl. Now, when our fleet appears, they'll rush to the harbor expecting gifts, not hiding in fear."
Yu Jeon-gan crossed his arms. "But just feeding them? I saw soldiers hammering everywhere inside."
"Over the week, had Jangyongyeong troops repair village wells and rebuild house frames."
"Turning soldiers into carpenters? That's why they look so wistful when we leave."
"That was the point."
Then—a Jangyongyeong soldier dashed from the gate. "My lord! A messenger from Hanyang!"
The envoy dismounted and reverently set down his lacquered box, wrapped in red silk emblazoned with the royal seal.
Si-woo and Yu Jeon-gan straightened their uniforms and knelt on the dirt. Surrounding Jangyongyeong soldiers set down weapons and bowed.
Gigi-cheong Chief Yi Si-woo and Samdo Naval Commander Yu Jeon-gan are to return to the capital immediately and enter the palace.
"Gigi-cheong Chief Yi Si-woo, Samdo Naval Commander Yu Jeon-gan—receive the royal command!"
The envoy's clear voice rang across the courtyard. Si-woo raised both hands high to receive the missive, holding it above his head in salute before slowly opening the envelope.
Yu Jeon-gan whispered hoarsely, sweat beading, "What does it say? Is His Majesty enraged?"
Si-woo scanned it. "Gigi-cheong Chief Yi Si-woo and Samdo Naval Commander Yu Jeon-gan are to return to the capital immediately and enter the palace."
Yu Jeon-gan swallowed dryly. "That's it? Praise or reprimand—who knows."
"Means His Majesty wants to hear it straight from us."
Si-woo folded the letter. "We'll explain in person."
Yu Jeon-gan sighed, shaking his head. "How are you so calm?"
"Worrying won't change it."
Yu Jeon-gan chuckled ruefully. "Messenger's here—time to go. The Norons won't stay quiet back in Hanyang. We set foot on Japanese soil without permission."
"I know."
"And you're still this nonchalant?"
"We've got tens of thousands in silver aboard, plus the Tsushima folk praising Joseon's grace. That'll crush the silver-tongued aristos in court."
Yu Jeon-gan smirked. "Fine, let's go! I'm curious what those stuffy old Hanyang fogeys will look like too."
In the bustling harbor during departure prep, Si-woo called over a unfamiliar Western woman. Blonde hair, blue eyes—the Dutch merchant Ana de Bruin.
Choi Seok relayed Si-woo's words in Japanese.
"Trade with Japan will be tough for a while. Why not come to Joseon instead?"
"Joseon...? Thanks for the offer first, but I have a contract with the Japanese shogunate."
"Just Japan? Come to Joseon, and you'll have one more market."
"Hmm..."
Ana scanned Si-woo up and down, lips curving. "Let's hear the terms."
Two hours later, the fleet set north for Busan. Along the receding Tsushima shoreline, commoners waved porridge bowls in farewell.
As Yu Jeon-gan stepped away to inspect the squadron, Si-woo leaned alone on the rail, gazing at fading Tsushima. When the dot-like figures on the coast vanished, he pulled an old map from his bosom and drew a red ink line at Sasuna Castle's position.
It wasn't mere charity—rice and repairs. In that week fixing the castle, he'd mapped every key water source and flow path completely.
Some hours passed.
"My lord, Busan Harbor soon!"
At the Jangyongyeong soldier's distant shout, Si-woo turned his head.