The Three Generals
In Yan, the first person I encountered who exploded with indignation the moment he laid eyes on me was Han Jing. It had been a long time since we'd last met, yet it felt as though only a single day had passed. Thanks to his loyal service and a recommendation from the Grand Tutor Guomu, Han Jing had been appointed to the post of boshi—a scholar-official who cultivated learning and occasionally advised the sovereign. In this era, the title carried far more weight than a mere academic degree; in Qi, home to the Jixia Academy, and even in Qin, a boshi's influence rose or fell according to the ruler's temperament. In Yan, however, the position was little more than an empty title.
"Heh. Han Jing hasn't changed a bit."
"My lord! This is no time for laughter. His Majesty may already be considering your removal, and yet—"
His scolding was laced with genuine worry, as though he himself had been sentenced to exile. While I patted his shoulder to calm him, Jeon Gwang offered a sudden reversal of perspective from the side.
"Master Han's words are not wrong, yet there is no need to view the matter so negatively. In fact, this may be for the best."
"Pardon? What do you mean, Master Jeon Gwang?"
"Is not Master Han's concern that His Majesty sees the Prince not as heir but as a rival to be cast aside?"
"Precisely."
"Then let us consider the alternative. Suppose His Majesty had concealed his true intent and kept the Prince confined within the palace?"
"Ah…!"
Though Han Jing was not quick to devise new ideas, his comprehension surpassed most. Realizing the meaning behind Jeon Gwang's words, he nodded slowly.
"Indeed. Had that been the case, my lord would have been isolated, unable to advance any of his plans."
"Of course, with so many capable retainers around the Prince, some influence might still have reached the outside. The Grand Tutor and other supporters remain numerous. Yet the scope of those activities would have been severely restricted."
Remaining in the palace would not have severed every line of communication. Secret infiltration would have been nearly impossible, but bribing eunuchs who moved freely through the halls or receiving official visitors could still have allowed contact with the outside world. If the King of Yan had deliberately obstructed even those channels, more circuitous methods would have been required—but a way would always exist.
"In that regard, Changseong is hardly the worst place. Do you understand why, my lord?"
Jeon Gwang's question was a test. He was aiding me not because he had sworn loyalty, but through his connection to Jing Ke. Yet by offering counsel at my side and assisting with the merchant operations, he was signaling a desire for a closer relationship. Thus the question was less an inquiry than an examination.
The memory of my first exchange with Lord Pingyuan surfaced briefly. But I was no longer the same person who had stood before him. The situation—finding a path through crisis—was similar, yet then I had been forced to rely on another's decision. Now I held the power to choose my own course.
I've grown.
The realization was fresh, but the moment was not right to dwell on it. Setting the feeling aside, I considered Jeon Gwang's question. The advantage of Changseong was obvious.
"Changseong allows easy expansion in every direction—east, west, and south."
"Exactly so." Jeon Gwang smiled with satisfaction.
Changseong's southern border met the sea. In later ages the Yellow River's silt and deliberate land reclamation would turn the area into solid ground, but for now the Bohai Sea stretched before it.
"By sea one can reach Qi or Liaodong. Moreover, the Gusu River leads to Wuzhong, the Huguan River to Yuyang, the Zhi River to Ji, and the Yi River to Wuyang. Any of these waterways can carry one swiftly into the heart of Yan."
The theory was flawless. In commerce, waterways had always been far more efficient than overland routes. Roads in this era were still primitive; even the main highways between major centers were barely adequate, and routes to the frontier were scarcely worthy of the name. Waterways, however, faced no such limitations. If Changseong could serve as a hub for the exchange of people and goods, the disadvantage of distance from the capital could be offset.
"Yet there is one fatal flaw."
"A flaw?"
"Changseong has no ships capable of long voyages."
Anyone familiar with the Three Kingdoms period would recognize that administration followed the commandery-county system. Yan was no exception. The commandery to which Changseong County belonged—Right Beiping—had been established only thirty years earlier under King Zhao of Yan. During those decades Yan had focused its efforts westward rather than eastward, even while constructing the Great Wall extension to Liaodong. As a result, Changseong remained underdeveloped. It was not a port city but a fishing village.
"There may be fishing boats, but no large vessels."
This was why I had called the theory perfect. Theory alone meant nothing without the means to put it into practice. The buoyant mood chilled rapidly. Jing Ke, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke up.
"All right, all right. We'll figure that out once we reach Changseong. The place has advantages, sure, but that doesn't erase every problem, does it?"
She was right. There was no point in despairing over the move to Changseong, yet if its strengths could not be utilized, the assignment would be no different from ordinary exile.
"Exactly. In the end, we'll be cut off from the center of power. No matter how hard the Grand Tutor works, without a foothold in the capital we'll eventually lose ground to the foreign minister, Lord Xiaodai."
"Haa… After all that, we're back where we started." Han Jing let out a small sigh. When we had first met he had not been this way; the years spent as a hostage in Zhao seemed to have made sighing a habit.
How pitiful.
I looked at him with sympathy but did not stop him. People said sighing drove away good fortune, yet in truth it was a healthy response that eased stress. Sensing I had drifted from the conversation, Jing Ke leaned in with a sly smile.
"Well, well. Our Prince of Yan doesn't seem very focused. Must mean you aren't worried at all?"
Her tone implied she already knew exactly what I was thinking.
"Enough stalling. Out with it. You've already got a plan, haven't you?"
At her words, every gaze in the room turned to me.
"Is that true?"
"As expected of my lord! Even in Zhao you always had a plan. Lord Mengchang's 'three burrows of the cunning rabbit' would pale beside you!"
Jeon Gwang and Han Jing could barely contain their excitement. Han Jing even let out a cry of realization.
"Ah! Now I understand. The reason you passed Jixia Academy without stopping was because the Academy was never your true destination!"
Hm? That was a rather novel interpretation.
"Jixia was merely a pretext. What you truly sought was time. Returning to Yan immediately would have left you vulnerable to whatever schemes were already in motion. By stepping back, you bought yourself the chance to gather information and prepare before re-entering the fray."
"Oh, as expected of a boshi. Master Han's insight is truly remarkable."
Jeon Gwang sounded impressed. I was impressed as well; Han Jing's conclusion, though reached after the fact, was accurate. Forgoing Jixia had granted me time—time to receive reports from the merchant network, the Grand Tutor, and Han Jing himself, and to formulate my next moves. With that time, I had reached a simple conclusion: there was no need to fixate on winning the King's favor.
"To become Crown Prince, one need not desperately court the sovereign's affection."
"But the appointment of the heir is the King's prerogative, is it not?"
"It is. Yet even a king cannot entirely ignore the will of his ministers. Especially not after the recent war damaged his authority."
"Then you intend to win the hearts of the ministers rather than His Majesty?"
"Only three hearts matter."
"Three?"
I raised my index, middle, and ring fingers and spoke their names.
"Qin Kai. Yue Jian. Ju Xin."
At the mention of those names, Jeon Gwang and Han Jing turned pale. They had every reason to. The three men shared one crucial trait: each was a pillar of the military command. With Yulfu—the King's personal general—defeated and disgraced, the army had split among these three. Qin Kai in the east, Yue Jian in the center, Ju Xin in the west. If I could win them over…
"You mean to seize control of the army."
The Yan military would fall into my hands.