The General's Allegiance
In Liaodong, I finally scrutinized the face of Jin Gai with whom I had come face to face. Among those I had met, the ones closest in age to Jin Gai were Lian Po and Chu Yan, yet Jin Gai left an impression all his own. If Chu Yan embodied the refined scholar and Lian Po radiated a roughness so fierce it could frighten at a glance, Jin Gai's features suggested calm strength. With bold lines that lent him a stately presence, Jin Gai looked as though he had seen me before. I had no memory of it. I, too, recalled little from my infancy; after the age of three my memories grew clear, but everything before that had largely faded. Perhaps he had glimpsed me around that time. With that thought, I asked, "Have you seen me before?"
"Your Highness may not remember, but I once saw you when you were very young."
Jin Gai's manner toward me was not unpleasant. It would have been understandable if he had resented my sudden arrival without warning while he remained silent in Liaodong. Perhaps he was merely managing his expression because I was a prince, yet that did not seem to be the case. After five years of scraping by in Zhao and concealing my identity within the merchant caravan, I had grown adept at reading the room. Encouraged by the civil atmosphere, I advanced the conversation. "Then you must also know why I have come here."
"How could I presume to judge Your Highness's intentions? I can only hazard a guess."
Jin Gai kept his thoughts veiled. He was no ordinary general; he possessed a measure of political skill. Had he been merely a tactician, he could never have carved Liaodong into his own autonomous domain. I drew a deep breath and spoke plainly. "I need your help, General."
"Hmm..."
Jin Gai's expression barely shifted at my words. He had listened impassively until my next sentence brought a flicker of change. "And you will need mine as well."
"Mine?"
Interest lit Jin Gai's eyes beneath the bright moonlight. He made no effort to hide his surprise. I nodded. "Yes—if you truly cherish your family and Liaodong."
"How bold."
"I am a prince of Yan. I hold my country's lands and people dear. Do you not feel the same, General?"
"Of course. Yet Your Highness speaks not of Liaodong's people but of my family. Perhaps you mean to offer treatment for my son in exchange for my aid?"
I had considered that plan. As I had noted before, resolving Jin Gai's difficulties in return for his support had been my third option. Unfortunately, it was impossible. Even if I were Hua Tuo, what could I—a man who knew little of medicine even in modern times—accomplish when Liaodong's finest physicians had already surrendered?
"Regrettably, I lack that ability."
Jin Gai showed no sign of disappointment. He merely muttered, "I see," with a trace of bitterness.
"Do you know how matters stand in the Central Plains, General?"
"To some degree."
"Then you understand Qin's ambitions?"
"They wish to claim the title of Emperor, do they not?"
Just so. As Jin Gai recalled, the late King Zhaoxiang of Qin had once proposed to King Min of Qi that the latter become the Eastern Emperor while he himself became the Western Emperor. The surrounding states' poor response had forced him to abandon the claim, yet the episode revealed the depth of Qin's royal ambition. Since it had occurred when Jin Gai was first making his mark, that was likely the extent of his understanding. Merely assuming the imperial title already struck the feudal lords as outrageous presumption. But the true ambition harbored by the man soon to become King of Qin was far vaster, more terrifying, and more magnificent.
"Not merely Emperor."
"Then what?"
"The King of Qin intends to become Huangdi—the August Emperor."
A word that did not yet exist. It signified surpassing even the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors of antiquity, and ruling the Central Plains alone in solitary supremacy beyond anything they had achieved.
"Qin harbors the ambition to destroy every feudal state and unify all under heaven."
Jin Gai's face hardened as he grasped the meaning of Huangdi. He now understood what I meant to say.
"Han will fall first. Zhao will follow. Once Han and Zhao are gone, what use are the Three Jins? Wei will perish as well. How could Chu, stripped of the Three Jins, withstand Qin? They too will fall. Yan and Qi will be unable even to resist."
Qin's unification was the future already written. If I, who knew what lay ahead, did not intervene, events would unfold exactly as I described.
"Will Liaodong truly remain untouched?"
I did not know whether Qin Shi Huang had truly reached Liaodong. Yet the fact that he had linked the walls of the feudal states into the Great Wall was common knowledge to most people of my former age. Qin Shi Huang's hand stretched as far as Liaodong. Donghu or Joseon? They would be fortunate merely to survive Qin's assault.
At my earnest warning, Jin Gai gave a few dry laughs. Sensing it was no idle threat, he asked gravely, "Very well. Suppose Your Highness speaks the truth. Can you stop it?"
"I do not know."
"You do not know?"
"I have no intention of spinning falsehoods about matters even I cannot be certain of. You asked whether I can stop Qin? I cannot say. Honestly, I believe it will be difficult."
Qin's strength had already risen to rival that of all the feudal states combined. Its population was not yet equal to the sum of the others—perhaps a third of the realm—but Shang Yang's reforms and a military-first policy had long since granted its armies power far beyond mere numbers.
"Then how do you expect to win me over by speaking of a fight with no prospect of victory?"
"Because one thing is certain: if we remain still, we will surely be destroyed."
That was no different from a cow awaiting its predetermined slaughter, shedding only tears. If one wished to live, one had to act. If one wished to protect what mattered, one had to struggle—whether by breaking the barn door or charging the one who led the way.
"But if we move, we can at least begin. Success or failure will be known only at the end."
"At least begin..."
Jin Gai fell silent, pondering. After a time he spoke again. "Is the Mubi Merchant Group that beginning? Zhao, Wei, and even Yan—gathering people through the merchant group and forging the Vertical Alliance through them. That is Your Highness's plan."
"I will not deny it."
"In the recent war with Zhao, drawing in the Xiongnu to end it swiftly was also your doing. You managed to win Lian Po over quite effectively."
"Master Chu Yan was of great assistance."
"You must have sent envoys to Ji Xin and Yue Jian as well. Since you came to me in person, your intent is clearly to secure military authority first."
"That is correct. I dispatched people to persuade them. For General Jin Gai, I could find no suitable messenger, so I came myself."
To each of Jin Gai's questions I answered with unvarnished truth.
"I see that Your Highness is unlike those rhetoricians who wander about relying solely on their tongues."
Jin Gai met my eyes and smiled faintly. "Your Highness resembles your great-grandfather more than your great-great-grandfather."
The great-grandfather was King Wuseong; the great-great-grandfather was King Zhaoyang of Yan. To say I resembled King Zhao more than...
"Then..."
"Do you know why I chose to remain in Liaodong?"
"I do not."
"So you did not know that much. It is difficult to discover, after all. It is a secret history of the royal house."
"Secret history...?"
"King Hui, the predecessor of King Wuseong, was assassinated by Chancellor Gongsun Zhao and General Cheng'an Jun."
"I know that much."
"But was it truly their independent decision?"
I was stunned. Jin Gai's words implied that King Wuseong himself had ordered King Hui's death.
"King Hui was a tyrant—enough to expel the two lords, Gong and Chu. Even so, it is not right for a younger brother to kill his elder."
Perhaps King Wuseong had also urged Jin Gai to join him in overthrowing the tyrant and preserving the legacy left by King Zhaoyang of Yan. Yet, repelled by the ruthlessness of fratricide, Jin Gai had left the capital and settled in Liaodong. Viewed in that light, all of Jin Gai's actions became clear.
"Yet Your Highness does not speak of His Majesty. Even though he sent his young self as a hostage to an enemy state and, even after your return, treated you as though exiling you to a remote place like Changcheng, you speak only of protecting the country."
Jin Gai slowly bowed toward me. The man who had remained respectful yet never bent now lowered his head.
"I will assist Your Highness."
I returned the bow. As we both straightened, Jin Gai turned his head toward the wall.
"So it has come to this, Princess."
Jin Gai suddenly addressed someone who had not been part of our conversation. At his words, a girl hesitantly stepped out from behind the wall.
"The proposal was appreciated, but it was one I could never have accepted. It seems this body is fated to remain the sword of His Majesty King Zhaoyang until the very end."
"...No. Rather, I should apologize for eavesdropping on your conversation."
The girl—Bia, princess of Joseon—bowed to both of us in apology.
"Since I left you as you were despite knowing, it is no different from having permitted it."
"However, that, Your, Your Highness..."
"His Highness also knew."
"Y-Yes?"
"Is that not so?"
"I did know."
Bia might have played hide-and-seek with the maids in the palace. I had filmed spy thrillers in the alleys of Handan, Zhao, risking my life. In that field I had accompanied Mao Sui, who had reached the pinnacle, more than once.
"Then why..."
"The host did not drive me out, so how could a guest do so? And..."
I looked at Bia and smiled. "We are also old acquaintances."