Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Korean-Chinese War (3)
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Kim Seongju, the Army Minister, had been born the son of a poor dockworker in Incheon.
His childhood was filled with memories of cold, hunger, and bitterness.
After that, the phrase "salt-crusted bum" always trailed behind him.
No matter how well he studied or how outstanding he was among his peers, the looks of contempt never faded.
"Think a salt rat like you gets special treatment just because you're good at books? If status changed that easily, who would ever crave climbing the ladder?"
The instructor's words to the cadets were shocking.
It was there that Kim Seongju began to doubt the value of effort.
What was the point of trying? Nothing would change.
From that moment, he stopped yearning for advancement.
He abandoned the grind of relentless self-improvement and chose the life of an ordinary officer.
Why bother striving when no one acknowledged the blood and tears?
That's how he spent over twenty years.
Then, one man appeared.
"The Daehan Empire must change. It must innovate. It must awaken!"
The man shared his convictions and concrete vision through the newspapers.
At first, Kim thought he was a madman.
"The Empire changing? What nonsense."
But he was wrong.
The man wasn't just a big-talking dreamer—he was a royal scion and general with real power.
'A man like this, calling for reform?'
Someone who could coast to the top without lifting a finger was talking about reshaping the nation.
Could Kim Seongju have done that himself?
No.
Realizing this, Kim felt profound respect for Yi Seongjun.
This man was different from ordinary people.
He was qualified to lead.
If someone like him rose to the top, couldn't the Empire truly change?
From then on, Kim Seongju started paying close attention to Yi Seongjun.
Before long, he got a chance to speak with the man.
"Why think of reforming this country?"
Yi Seongjun unpacked his thoughts as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Because the Empire is wrong. And because it's wrong, we must set it right."
That was it.
Hearing those words, Kim felt every injustice that had shackled him his whole life dissolve.
The Empire was wrong.
It wasn't his fault—it was the Empire's flaws that had made him suffer.
That was why he was never recognized.
After several meetings, Kim Seongju became Yi Seongjun's devoted follower.
He handled major operations as commander of the coup forces and rose to become the leader's right-hand man.
He arrested the Army Minister and even the Chief of Staff.
From that moment, the unpleasant stares that had dogged him vanished.
This was power.
This was authority.
The sweet taste of the power granted by His Excellency Yi was intoxicating.
But he didn't get drunk on it.
He couldn't risk tarnishing the man who had bestowed it all.
His Excellency had said:
"You and I—we'll remake this country from head to toe."
Honestly, Kim Seongju knew little about the "Yushin" or "Revolution" rhetoric Yi espoused.
He had simply followed His Excellency's lead.
In hindsight, His Excellency was always right.
Under his guidance, the Daehan Empire always dealt with its neighbors from a position of strength.
Without him, amid petty squabbles over humble origins from those stuffy old military aristocrats, could the Empire have thrived like this?
Absurd.
So His Excellency's power must never waver.
That conviction allowed Kim Seongju to accomplish countless tasks in his shadow.
This time was no different.
'No general worthy of challenging His Excellency can emerge from this war.'
Even if it meant staging some unfair scenarios, the Empire's future demanded keeping the generals in check.
"I understand Your Excellency's thinking. But do we really need to commit the Guard Legion as follow-up reserves? Deploying the well-trained 7th Legion troops would make more sense in every way."
The Chief of Staff's objection was, of course, reasonable.
Frankly, he was right.
But the 7th Legion commander was a scion of the military aristocracy, glued to his army post.
Giving such a man too many chances for glory risked threats to His Excellency.
"This decision weighs military and political concerns. I'd appreciate the Chief of Staff following orders without further debate. Understood?"
Faced with Kim Seongju's pressure, the Chief had no choice but to yield.
A senior officer meant nothing before Yi Seongjun's man of real power.
They might call each other senior and junior, but the power dynamic was reversed.
"Understood. We'll follow His Excellency's will."
This was how Kim Seongju calibrated the field generals' merits.
The military aristocrats were furious.
"That dog Kim Seongju blatantly favors only the National Defense Military Committee's upstarts—how is that fair?"
But it was fair.
In a military regime, failing to grip the military meant the regime would crumble.
The aristocratic generals grumbled, but none dared gather to protest or resist.
Anyone bold enough had long been purged by Security Command surveillance or stripped of uniform.
In any case, the Korean forces' self-imposed restraints spared China an immediate fall of Nanjing in the early war.
But with the capital's fall just a matter of time, even Chiang Kai-shek couldn't boast of defending it.
"Chairman, we should prepare for relocation."
"Prepare now, and what happens to public morale?"
Chiang fretted first over the optics.
"Sir, if government offices miss their evacuation window, the nation faces disaster."
At minimum, withdrawing agencies had to start immediately.
"Fine, I see."
After consulting with Kong Xiangxi, named Administrative Dean, Chiang agreed to pull back government organs.
The next issue was relocation.
When the capital fell, who would bear the political blame?
Chiang had zero intention of shouldering it.
'Without me, the Republic of China is finished.'
Word was, communists were already expanding liberated areas amid the war chaos.
Hand power to those utterly incompetent rivals? Could they even handle the reds?
Ridiculous.
If they could beat the communists, they would've executed Mao Zedong and his cronies ten times over during the Long March.
Chiang scratched his nonexistent hair.
Broker peace with Korea now?
But it was impossible in reality.
Having interfered in China's internal affairs with their insolence, then starting the war themselves and playing the victim—how could he bow to that?
It would tank his regime's support.
Even an authoritarian regime uninterested in popularity needed baseline public backing.
'No compromise with Korea. Only great power mediation is reliable.'
Unfortunately for China, mediation from the powers was unlikely.
The three-way anti-air pact had America, Britain, and the Soviets viewing China dimly.
'All we can do is drag it out.'
Prolong the war, and the powers might intervene over their interests.
'Hold out a year, and there's hope.'
That was the key—surviving until then.
"Sir. Sir! Disaster!"
As Chiang pondered, his chief secretary burst in with shocking news.
"What's the commotion?"
"Vice President Wang Jingwei flew from Hong Kong to Pyongyang."
"What? What did you say?"
Chiang couldn't hide his shock.
He harbored no great fondness for Wang Jingwei, but as a fellow Kuomintang comrade, he'd seemed a patriot working for the national good.
That's why he'd cheerfully approved Wang's trip to Hong Kong to sound out the great powers.
Wang had said then:
"Brother Chiang, take the easy path. I'll take the hard one."
Chiang thought it meant Wang would toil in the shadows for the Republic's diplomacy.
He was wrong.
The bastard, the bastard, had glamorized treason—becoming Pyongyang's dog and selling out the Republic.
"You treacherous cur worse than a dog!"
Chiang hurled ornate flowers and furnishings in a rage.
So furious he couldn't form words, beastly roars echoed through the office for ages.
"Ch-Chaiman, calm down. Wang's betrayal doesn't shake the entire party."
Only then did Chiang cool somewhat.
Right—one traitor's defection didn't doom the nation.
Just a louse departing.
So what?
It couldn't affect the big picture.
Couldn't hinder China's endurance.
'Wang Jingwei. You'll regret this day. I swear it.'
Chiang ground his teeth.