The Founding of the Ming Dynasty
While Haneul was off in the Eastern Continent brawling with the Aztecs and grinding away at his railroad tracks, Vietnam was locked in a war of nerves with the Khmer, while the Jin and Song dynasties had worn their people down to the bone through years of endless war.
And so the seeds of rebellion sprouted once more. In the year 3814, in Ji'an, capital of the Jin dynasty, a White Lotus devotee named Han Shantong rose up.
"I am Han Shantong, descendant of the Emperors of Song, and I shall set this chaotic land to rights! Let this red turban be our banner!"
Of course, Han Shantong was murdered before long — but those who had risen alongside him scattered his banner to the four winds.
His rebellion became the spark that set the powder keg alight. First in Jin, then in Song as well, people everywhere tied on red turbans and rose in revolt. Thus began the Red Turban Rebellion.
The Red Turban garrison at Changsha, in the lands of Jin.
"Elder Guo Zixing. All is in readiness."
"Good. The time has come to put those dogs down and spread our cause!"
They marched on the city of Changsha.
Having exhausted its national strength on one civil war after another and wars with its neighbors, the Jin dynasty could spare only a handful of soldiers even for Changsha, a city of considerable size.
So when the Red Turbans, overwhelming in numbers, seized on that weakness and swarmed over the walls, the city fell in the blink of an eye.
Among them, one man stood out — conspicuously leading from the front, cutting down every enemy in his path. Reaching the city gate in short order, he set about forcing it open.
With a long, groaning screech, the gate swung wide.
"The gate is open! All forces, advance!"
"Attack!"
The Red Turbans poured through the breached gate and took Changsha with little difficulty, and the man who had opened it could hardly escape Guo Zixing's notice.
"Who is that man?"
"We're not certain, my lord. Shall we bring him in?"
"Yes. I believe he may prove useful to me."
Thus the man was raised from common soldier to commander — one Zhu Yuanzhang, a man who would one day become emperor.
Elevated to general, Zhu Yuanzhang built his reputation in battle after battle across the neighboring regions — Shangtan, Zhuzhu, Yiyang, and many more.
Then, after the siege of Yiyang, at an evening banquet.
"You called for me, my lord?"
"Ah, there you are. I thought we might share a drink."
Guo Zixing had summoned Zhu Yuanzhang to a private chamber and laid out a table for two.
"Thank you, my lord!"
"Haha. There's someone I'd like you to meet, as well."
"Who might that be?"
"My daughter."
A woman entered. Pleased with Zhu Yuanzhang, Guo Zixing had arranged this gathering to take him as a son-in-law.
Granted, she was an adopted daughter with a different family name — but in this era, such things were common enough.
"A man of humble village stock, taking a wife from your house... I am unworthy."
"You are no village nobody anymore, are you?"
"Thank you, my lord!"
It was the moment a poor farmer's son — so poor he could not even bury his own parents — became the son-in-law of a warlord who held an entire city.
Not even a year had passed since Zhu Yuanzhang, once a wandering mendicant monk drifting through the lands of Jin, had joined Guo Zixing's band and begun to make a name for himself.
That was how extraordinary his abilities were.
"We'll need more men."
Having led the charge in battles great and small, Zhu Yuanzhang rose to a position where he could no longer manage everything alone, and he called for his old friends from his home village to join him.
And in doing so, he gained one man of true talent — a man fit to be mentioned in the same breath as Liu Bei's Zhuge Liang.
"I am honored to make your acquaintance. My name is Li Shanchang."
"I look forward to serving alongside you."
With his own faction established and a strategist at his side, Zhu Yuanzhang swept through the surrounding Red Turban factions like a blade through grass, crushing some and absorbing others.
"General. You should strike for Hunan."
"Will that not be difficult?"
"I have a plan."
By now Zhu Yuanzhang held nearly every power and city in the region — so if he could take Hunan, the last major city, he could raise his name in earnest as a warlord in his own right.
But in the midst of his preparations, misfortune struck.
"What? My father-in-law has passed?"
"Yes... my lord's father..."
Guo Zixing had died without warning. Old, yes — but no one had expected him to depart so suddenly.
"This is intolerable, my lord! That boy should lead this host simply because he is the old man's son?"
"What can be done about it..."
Truthfully, Zhu Yuanzhang had assumed that he himself, as the second most powerful man in the faction, would be the one to take command. With his father-in-law's son in charge instead, he decided to wait and think it over a while longer.
So the faction drifted through a period of confusion, and three months later, Zhu Yuanzhang's army departed Changsha and marched on Hunan.
"General! It's terrible news!"
"An enemy attack?"
"Guo Tianxu is dead, my lord!"
"What?!"
It made no sense. If it wasn't the enemy, surely it wasn't assassination? They had shared dinner together just last night — and now he was dead? It came utterly out of nowhere.
"There was a small ambush. He insisted on leading a force out personally, and he fell in battle."
"What in the world..."
Zhu Yuanzhang glanced back at Li Shanchang, just in case — but the man stood there expressionless, his thoughts unreadable.
It left an uneasy feeling in his gut, but in any case, every power in the region now fell to him without incident, and the army pressed on, arriving at Hunan before long.
"So this is a true capital..."
"No walls, however high, will stop us, my lord."
Trusting in the confident Li Shanchang and whatever plan he had up his sleeve, Zhu Yuanzhang began his preparations for battle — readying siege weapons and steadying his soldiers.
Then, in the midst of it all:
"Tonight, I recommend you lead an elite force into the city."
"Into the city? Tonight?"
Lead soldiers in, without siege weapons? He had no idea what the man meant — but he trusted that Li Shanchang would not spout nonsense, and so he prepared a night assault.
And that night, the moment the moon climbed to its zenith —
Zhu Yuanzhang and his strike force came crawling along the ground until they lay within reach of the city gate.
What exactly is he planning?
Then came a long, grinding creak — and the gate, locked fast and unyielding, began to swing open of its own accord. Astonishment spread across Zhu Yuanzhang's face, which had been scowling up at it in frustration.
"All forces, in! Quickly — secure the gate and send the signal!"
He could not let the moment slip away. Li Shanchang had arranged this, so it could be no trap. He attacked at once, seized the gatehouse, and flung the doors wide open.
With the advantages of a siege gone, the battle became one of morale and sheer numbers.
The garrison of Hunan had never been able to match his army in numbers to begin with — and in a single night, the city fell.
"Li Shanchang! You are remarkable!"
"You flatter me, my lord."
"It is time you rose to Duke of Wu."
"May I truly?"
"Carry it proudly. You have earned it."
With Hunan as his final conquest, Zhu Yuanzhang now held the entire western quarter of the former Jin lands. Proclaiming himself Duke of Wu, he rose in earnest as a great warlord.
He settled his borders, poured his strength into governance, and built his power — and when at last he rose to strike at the other warlords, it was the year 3824.
Down treacherous marching roads, beating back enemy after enemy, Zhu Yuanzhang's army reached Ji'an in the autumn of 3826.
"So this is the capital of Jin."
The Jin dynasty had splintered into a scattering of warlords, a name little more than an echo — but this was still where an emperor sat, and Zhu Yuanzhang's feelings about it were anything but simple.
"We have arrived at just the right season. If we harvest this region's grain for our own provisions, would that not deal the enemy a double blow?"
"And you think the enemy will simply sit still for it?"
The enemy was no fool. Was there not a risk of ambush?
"Let the people do the harvesting, and have them pay us only a portion. That is all we need."
Given the state of things, these were people who could not even collect taxes from — and here was Li Shanchang telling Zhu Yuanzhang to collect from them anyway.
"These people will one day be my subjects. It should be permitted."
Having come this far, Zhu Yuanzhang too harbored a desire to one day sit upon the throne himself.
Starting as a poor farmer and rising to become emperor — could any man deny that would be a magnificent achievement?
"Leave the task of persuading the people to me."
"I entrust it to you."
While Zhu Yuanzhang laid siege to the city, Li Shanchang went about collecting grain on his behalf — and while flying the red banner, he also spread the rumor that Zhu Yuanzhang would soon be emperor.
The common people, cursing the incompetent court that had ground them down for so long, flocked to Zhu Yuanzhang's army. As time passed, the besieging host grew ever larger, and morale within the walls of Ji'an sank ever lower.
"They will surrender soon."
"Hm? How can you know that?"
"Because their food must be running short."
Had Li Shanchang known all along, timing their arrival for just before the autumn harvest?
"How could you possibly know that?"
"I watched the merchants who frequented the court. Lately they enter carrying great quantities of jewels, spices, and silk. Daehan luxuries, without a doubt. And spices are not food."
He had sent men ahead to observe the city in advance — that was all. A true strategist, it seemed, was not a role just anyone could fill.
No relief army came in 3828, and no warlord rose to strike Zhu Yuanzhang from behind — so after two years of siege, he extracted the city's surrender and entered in triumph.
"Your Majesty. Abdicate the throne."
"..."
"Your Majesty..."
"...Very well."
Sword at his hip, Zhu Yuanzhang advanced before the emperor, received the abdication with his own hands, and ascended as emperor — founding the Ming dynasty.
He seized every territory that had once belonged to Jin and set about stabilizing his new realm. As life improved little by little, the people's praise naturally followed.
"Your Majesty. One last task remains."
"What more could possibly remain?"
Zhu Yuanzhang found Li Shanchang's words strange. He had already ascended the throne — how could anything still be lacking?
"The Song dynasty, Your Majesty."
"Can it be done?"
"I will give it my utmost."
And so, in the year 3831, Zhu Yuanzhang raised a great army and invaded Song.
Against the Ming dynasty — its state consolidated and its strength hoarded for years — the wretched Song could mount almost no resistance and began to collapse.
Within Song itself, countless rebellions were already flaring under the red banner, scattering its forces far and wide.
Whether Li Shanchang had planned it that way or Zhu Yuanzhang had simply been lucky, no one could say.
"You have endured a great deal, my lord!"
"I have you to thank — this is all Li Shanchang's doing."
"Now we must build our strength and prepare for Vietnam."
The reason Vietnam had been so quiet until now was that the pressure from the Khmer had grown too intense for them to spare a glance in any other direction.
In more ways than one, Zhu Yuanzhang seemed to have fortune on his side.
"Do they not buy their weapons from Daehan?"
"Could we not do the same, my lord?"
"Have we not been on poor terms with them for generations?"
"If we went to them, bowed our heads, and admitted our past wrongs, might they not soften toward us?"
It left a bitter taste in Zhu Yuanzhang's mouth. He had become emperor over so vast a land — and now he was expected to bow before another nation.
"Your Majesty..."
"Speak."
"Forgive my bluntness, but judging by their goods and their craft, they are not a nation we could ever defeat in war. I beg of you — consider bowing your head, just this once."
"Tch..."
Even if they could not attack, surely they could at least defend themselves?
A pride he had never known in his village days had taken root now that he was emperor, and he found it terribly hard to agree to any talk of bending the knee.
"Can we not simply leave things as they are?"
"I fear we will be pushed back by Vietnam, inch by inch, until there is nothing left..."
"Haah..."
Li Shanchang was not proposing war with Daehan to reclaim the lands lost so long ago. If those lands could never be taken anyway, then joining hands with Daehan was clearly the wiser course.
With Daehan as an ally, he need only watch the southern border — how much easier would the defense of his realm become?
"...I will think on it."
"I beg you, my lord..."
Judging from the tone of that "I will think on it," the answer was almost certainly no.
Li Shanchang concluded that even this much was beyond his reach.
All I can do now is pray that someone, in some future generation, makes the right choice.
He could only hope that the nation so painstakingly built would not be devoured by some careless hand down the years.
At the very least — let them be a middling ruler. Nothing more, nothing less.