Go Boards and Hidden Fears
Jojo scattered reliable men far and wide to gather troops. The Hahou brothers and Jo clan relatives were a given, and even the Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei trio dispersed to recruit men.
"Come on in. We've got a lot to talk about."
I stayed on a bit longer in Chohyeon Castle to review the plans ahead. There were mountains of things to check: recruiting militiamen, the timing of our uprising, the court's movements, matters needing caution, and more.
"When making stirrups on both sides, it's best to thread the rope inside the saddle like this."
"Wouldn't it be better to connect them one at a time? If one side comes loose, the other still holds."
"But if you keep your feet in the stirrups all the time with them connected separately, the seams will wear out."
Not stopping there, we delved into my stirrups and repeating crossbow, and time flew by like the blink of an eye.
"Let's call it a day. Good work, Somyeong."
"You too, Jojo."
Before we knew it, Jojo and I were taking frequent breaks to avoid burnout. Just once a day, tackling one topic at a time, slowly going over the plans. There was no choice if we wanted to cover everything that would take nights on end.
Boring.
The problem was how few entertainments this era offered. I spent my spare time in the guest quarters, bored out of my mind, pacing like a caged animal. Scribbling future strategies and systems haphazardly into blank books grew tiresome. Borrowing military texts from Jojo to study army command grew tiresome. Even chatting idly with Joang over tea grew tiresome.
Eight days into this tedium, it was no accident I was sprawled out in my room.
"Care for a game?"
Seeing me flailing in boredom, Jojo pulled out a Go board. Against a top player of the era like him, a match was perfect for easing the monotony.
Know yourself and your enemy, and you'll win a hundred battles. But know neither, and you'll lose a hundred.
But Jojo didn't know one thing. That I knew the corrected editions passed down two thousand years, complete with commentaries from non-human minds. Plus, I'd adapted to the 17x17 board through games with my wife. The outcome was clear.
"...Impressive, Somyeong."
Two thousand years ago, even the term "fuseki" didn't exist, so starting with outdated joseki was plenty. I'd gradually yield houses in fights, controlling the result until I eked out a win by two or three points. Even if I showed brilliant midgame prowess, local victories wouldn't overturn the board.
"One more game?"
"Sure."
Jojo, hooked, even mimicked my opening moves, playing with evident delight. His pleased smile while pondering confirmed it. I let him have about thirty percent of the games to spare his feelings—baiting big groups into fights, making small blunders, all while chatting amiably. Three straight days became nothing but Go.
On the fourth day of playing Jojo, I was in our fifth game. At his request for something fiercer, the board was a constant battlefield.
- Clack.
Jojo pierced my lines, threatening my big group.
Saving it or killing his—both paths were thorny crossroads.
- Clack.
After deep thought, instead of saving my big group, I placed in a major endgame shape.
"Abandoning your big group?"
Jojo couldn't fathom why I'd chosen endgame over rescue. It shattered the swelling tension.
"The board's already tilted. Even yielding the group, securing this seals my win."
With a grin, I declared checkmate, leaving Jojo no recourse. Confirming his last hope flicker out, he tossed his stone.
"I thought you only played leisurely, Somyeong. Not so."
"Just my nature showing."
"Mind sharing the reasoning?"
"Fighting entangles stones, giving the opponent chances. Avoid fights, claim value elsewhere, and victory's certain."
My style permeated the game record—few battles. Fight only when victory was assured or no alternatives existed.
"A true man fears no battle."
"And how many did you win on the board? Bravery without victory is recklessness."
"Can't argue that."
My words cut sharp, but Jojo wasn't wrong. On the board, only win-loss mattered; reality was more complex. Go had absolute rules; reality had none. A surrounded stone could shatter encirclement; confronted groups could vanish from supply cuts. And the man I faced could create such variables.
"Games with you were a joy."
Jojo cleared the board and rose. Our planning was done—it was time to go.
"You'll need this more. Take it and read."
As I packed, Jojo handed over a military text. Flipping it open, I saw his personal annotations on Sun Tzu's Art of War.
"I'll treasure it."
"To revive a drowned fish, don't you toss it back in the water?"
He quoted his own words from before. Laughing, I promised to bulk up our forces and headed home.
After Jang Myeong left, Jojo replayed the games in his room. Recalling every board was tough, but the final one was fresh.
"What a freak. A total freak."
The more he saw of Jang Myeong, the more he liked the talent. Comparing him to Liu Bei, Liu's total might edge higher—martial prowess, leadership, experience, connections where Jang fell short.
But Jang had a sharpness Liu lacked. Jojo recalled the final game, his captured white big group. Jang had insight to discard huge profit for board-wide victory.
"Our views align here too."
And Jang's thinking matched Jojo's more than Liu's. Unlike Liu's talk of benevolence, Jang prioritized law in urgency. He'd switch to benevolence later—understandable. In a unified world post-war, benevolence might fit better.
"I'd love to see that with my own eyes."
Jojo figured it'd take until his sons' or grandsons' era. The chaos from generations past couldn't end in a flash. With resolve and lament mixed, he finished replaying.
"Fulfill my wish, Somyeong."
As heaven cycled day and night in eternal song, earth marked time's flow in scars upon itself. Flowers bloomed and fell to herald seasons; rivers shifted courses to sing of years.
Jang Myeong felt time pass as one in the world. The moment to half-leave his family loomed.
With the crossroads nearing, I pondered in the garden, stick in hand, whenever time allowed. Sunset stretched over the horizon; darkness chased the glow, painting night skies black. I stared at the dim ground.
Introspection bordering rumination was agonizingly hard. As sunset clung to heaven's edge, the ground vanished. I merely traced afterimages of words on the dirt in thought.
Forget not: you're atop the mountain piled by history's giants.
If truly genius, no crisis would faze. Maximize talents to conquer obstacles.
Don't delude yourself as genius. You're not one to be arrogant.
But I was middling at best—no room for hubris. Like peeking at answers and claiming them yours. With life's stakes high, misjudgment was forbidden.
- Crunch, crunch.
Footsteps sounded; dim ground plunged to full dark. I looked up at the shadow's owner. Too dark for features, but I knew who.
"It's late. Time to head in."
"Wait a bit."
"Mulling manure?"
"No, so shut it."
Unresolved, I snapped irritably. Unsure if the problem even had a solution.
Hearing me, my wife paused, then stepped over the scribbles.
"What are you—?"
Before irritation at the interruption peaked, my head jerked forward. Caught off-guard, I froze—arms awkwardly raised, face buried, breathing hard. Through cloth, I felt soft skin and heartbeat against my cheek.
As I struggled for air, she giggled.
"Breathing like that tickles."
"Whoa!"
Finally grasping it, I yanked back in shock. A smaller rock, and I'd have toppled backward.
"Hee hee hee, your reactions are delicious, my lord."
Face beet-red, I stared at my wife. Her excited voice meant hers matched.
"Better now?"
As I tilted my head uncomprehending, she scuffed away the doodles with her shoe.
"You always tremble when embracing me. What makes you so anxious?"
Her dark eyes pierced me clean.
That? How?
Flustered, I went speechless. She kept gazing; I sweated, pondering. Spilling my worries wouldn't solve them—might just burden her.
"I fear the realm."
Yet I spoke. From our wedding vow? Heart exposed? Craving support? I didn't know. But now I could; later, maybe not.
"Chaos only I see looms, filling me with dread. Calamities I don't recall might erupt anywhere. Convincing others for absurd futures leaves me isolated and stifled. And..."
True heart never shared with any soul. Grimacing, I spilled long-hidden truths haphazardly.
"Horrid futures visible, yet my power's so feeble. Even deploying all I know to rig the board, one tiny variable could unravel it all."
She listened quietly, then drew my head to her bosom—turned so breath didn't tickle.
"You've suffered much."
That warm phrase shook me. No tears or sobs, but pent-up emotions melted away.
"Bearing alone the calamity only you see."
"Yes."
She stroked my hair tenderly, fingertips trailing locks.
"No answer to ease your anxiety, but I can comfort. Don't suffer solo."
She cupped my cheeks, drawing me in. Lips met in familiar touch, lingering longer than usual.
"How now?"
"Much better. Thank you."
Faint smile, I rose. With her bolstering me, I couldn't just sink.
"But how'd you see my anxiety?"
I'd hidden it from all—father, Jojo included. Curious what pierced her insight.
"I didn't see."
At my puzzled tilt, she took my hand.
"Didn't I say? You tremble in embraces. Without holding like this, I'd never know."
My affections exposed weakness. No regrets, with this consolation.
"Let's go in."
"No carry today?"
I chuckled dryly.
"Realm's burden enough—wife too?"
Ignoring my whine, she spread arms. Pretending reluctance, I scooped her up. Her soft laugh rode the night air to my ear.