The Heir's Coronation Amidst Song's Desperation
Meanwhile, Song had sent envoys. Emperor Lizong of Song had personally assembled a lavish delegation that entered through Byeokrando and made its way straight to Gaegyeong. They hadn't even received proper reception along the way, instead flattering Goryeo at every turn just to reach the capital—this alone spoke volumes about Song's desperation.
Emperor Lizong of Song—a pitiful figure, much like Emperor Aizong of Jin. After purging the treacherous Chancellor Shi Miyuan, he had somewhat revived the dynasty, but his merits and faults were starkly clear. Not content with merely toppling Jin, he pushed north to reclaim lost territories, even reaching the old Northern Song capital—only to be thoroughly crushed by the Mongols, firing the starting gun for the long, grueling Song-Mongol wars to come.
Far in the future, after Song's fall, his tomb would be desecrated by Yang Lianzhenka, a Yuan lama and overseer of Jiangnan's stone bridges. Among the Song emperors whose remains were looted, Lizong's body was reportedly hung upside down, his skull severed and turned into a drinking cup. Yang, a devotee of sorcery, believed human skulls made into ritual chalices granted immense spiritual power to ward off evil. Lizong's particularly large skull seemed perfect for an extraordinarily potent cup, so he committed the atrocity. Even Yuan, appalled, eventually executed Yang for tomb-robbing Southern Song imperial graves.
I knew all this because, conveniently, my duties as trade envoy overlapped with my little brother Manjong's wedding into the royal family.
Father had bestowed the name Choi Pil on Manjong. He hadn't granted him private troops or special privileges, but at least negotiating the match with the royals had been feasible. The emperor had initially balked, citing Manjong's lowly concubine birth, but with no other choice—hating the Choi but unable to refuse—he relented. Past military regents had desperately sought royal blood ties; now, we were at the point where we'd reject even if the emperor proposed.
Yet, to secure a guarantee and safeguard for royal stability, the emperor pushed through the marriage with Pil. From our side, outright rebellion was impossible, and bearing royal blood was out of the question—yet he insisted on forging this tie.
In a stroke of coincidence, the Song envoys arrived just in time for the wedding, and I sat alongside the trade envoy delegation.
"Won't Young Lord Choi Pil threaten the successor's position?"
At the wedding, Grand General Jusuk whispered.
Well. Even his name signaled "support from the side"—Pil's limits were clear.
"Following the precedent of Prime Minister Eunmun Sangguk and my father, I've long conditioned my two little brothers to depend on me mentally to the point they'd die if I abandoned them. They'd even fake their deaths if I ordered it."
"But the emperor didn't seek Mongol aid?"
Hmm, Grand General Jusuk was quite the worrier. Unfortunately, that was no issue either.
"The Choi regime's power is rock-solid now. If anyone tries to shake it, we must show—even descendants of the Dragon King of the West Sea—that they bow their heads to House Uibong Choi."
Jusuk fell silent after that. A longtime comrade of Father's, he probably figured if I said it, I'd do it.
Still, the emperor's needless push for this marriage suggested he aimed to control us through a daughter- or son-in-law. And as the ceremony concluded, Father rose from the seat of honor.
"Hear me! I, Choi U, have served the royal house for decades, ruling this land by imperial decree! But now, in my old age, I must name my successor."
"My lord, whom do you have in mind?"
Daejipseong seized the moment like he'd been waiting.
"My daughter Choi Yeon has bolstered the national treasury with soap and raw sugar, developed new weapons, and crushed the Mongols in two wars as a great hero. She led the conquest of Yodong, and its soldiers and people—over a hundred thousand strong in Yodong's forces—all follow Yeon. The succession is already clear, is it not? Thus, I bestow upon my daughter Choi Yeon the office of Military Regent, Chief of the Capital Administration, Commander of the Three Elite Armies, and the title of Lord of Shipbuilding, granting her fiefs across the Yodong Peninsula to affirm my heir."
The Military Regent was the top post proving the successor; Chief of the Capital oversaw all governance; Commander of the Three Elite Armies controlled what were once the two armies and six divisions—now 40,000 Byeolcho guarding Gaegyeong, effectively handing me the capital. The Lord of Shipbuilding title was a noble rank befitting my womanhood.
Hmm, declaring this on my brother's wedding day? A clear message: Don't even think of scheming through him.
I shot to my feet.
"I am Choi Yeon. Though I am but a flawed woman, appointed heir to Yodong and the capital by His Imperial Majesty and my father, I shall guard the emperor's dragon robe, bring peace to the people, and devote myself to Goryeo."
Short but weighty. At once, Choi loyalists, Byeolcho Army officers, and my Jurchen Yodong Byeolcho guards snapped to attention before me.
""Chung! Chung! Chung! Chung!""
Military and civil officials, their wives and children, even lowly soldiers swore fealty. Effectively, I now ruled from Yodong's edge to the peninsula's tip.
No one opposed the declaration. Even royalists had to play along with the mood. Before the wars, maybe—but I'd proven my worth as the military regime's heir. Everyone knew Yodong's Koreans and Jurchens followed me. It wasn't just fiscal reforms or politics; my military prowess and vast armies made it inevitable.
Boosting me at my brother's wedding might irk the royals, but it was all scripted theater anyway.
Soon after, the emperor issued an edict formally granting me the titles of Military Regent, Chief of the Capital Administration, and Commander of the Three Elite Armies.
Choi Yeon is hereby appointed Military Regent (), Chief of the Capital Administration ( ), and Commander of the Three Elite Armies (), with fiefs across the Yodong Peninsula and the title of Lord of Shipbuilding ().
What else could the emperor do when Father demanded it? Thanks to my achievements, many followed me without complaint. Only a few royalists might grumble inwardly.
But honestly—who in Goryeo's history, regent or king, had accomplished more than I?
"Sister, congratulations on formally becoming the heir."
Manjong—no, Pil, upstaged on his own wedding—still congratulated me.
"Hey, tend to your bride first. Putting your sister before her?"
"I had to go through with the wedding, but I like Sister more."
In this era, half-sibling marriages happened. If the Choi ruled, our blood was noble enough—marriage to a half-brother might even safeguard it. Still, a bit awkward.
Soon after, in the throne hall, I joined the emperor in receiving the Song envoys.
"I am Sa Sungji, Vice Ambassador of the Great Song Empire. This foreign envoy pays respects to His Majesty, Emperor of Great Goryeo."
Sa Sungji as vice ambassador? He hadn't even fought in the Jin wars—no merits there. Irony of history, I suppose.
"Welcome. What brings you?"
Calling Goryeo's king "emperor"? They wanted something big.
"Our borders burn daily from Jin raiders, yet Song's armies are depleted from the failed northern expedition."
A military alliance? Tricky—Jin was now Mongol proxies. Attacking them would irk the Mongols, whom we'd just opened Silk Road trade with. Even without that, Jin couldn't handle another foe like us. If we hit Jin, we'd have to toss Mongols some scraps.
Like Southern Song in real history: topple Jin, push north for old lands—enraging Mongols into a full assault, only stalled by Song aces into a truce.
The envoys' words stirred murmurs. Not certain it was alliance yet.
The emperor eyed Father to handle it.
"I am Choi U, Prime Minister of this realm. So, Song seeks a military pact?"
"No. Our emperor desires weapons over troops—those new ones."
"New weapons?"
Iron Cannons, obviously. Song must've investigated our Mongol victories. Their prior envoy reestablished ties, so they'd gleaned intel.
Back in Yodong, Father asked me after dismissing the envoy.
"What now?"
"Sell them."
"Isn't that state secret level?"
No secret lasts forever—especially matchlocks, easy to produce. Once they had samples, Song could reverse-engineer. Better to profit now.
Plus, something suspicious here.
"It'll leak eventually—better sell dear. And requesting purchase now? Fishy, right?"
"Fishy how?"
"Song's a great power with arms-making facilities. They'd beg for tech transfer. But they want to buy weapons. What does that imply?"
Song would demand tech for blocking Jin or future northern pushes—not buy ready arms.
Father squinted.
"Song can't produce weapons themselves now?"
Exactly.
"Yes. Jin's raids are for plunder—recovering Mongol losses by hitting Song. They tribute the spoils to Karakorum."
Trade envoys to Karakorum reported steady Jin tribute flowing in.
"Keep going."
"Jin's lost Yodong and northern plains to Mongols—no capacity for full Song conquest. Raids only, so they weaken Song's counterattack: looting arsenals, destroying forges, slaughtering or kidnapping smiths."
If unable to destroy Song, that's Jin's playbook: cripple northern ambitions, strip arms and men, torch facilities.
"So, they're forced to buy."
"Yes—and we sell high."
"But regrettable. Our edge was those guns, no?"
General Park Seo, newly joined from the capital, clicked his tongue.
True, but post-Yodong, matchlocks topped out. Invading Jin with them risked cavalry sweeps before fortifications.
"Iron Cannons are great, but against Jin and Mongols—nomad cavalry powers—they won't adapt easily. Mobility demands no stationary shooting."
They'd seek cavalry-fit arms over expensive matchlocks. Mongols might arm auxiliaries, but meat shields? Who cares?