The Calm Before the Storm
Jo Wi-cheo's wedding on the eve of the storm ended in such splendor that it hardly felt like a mere official's ceremony. Sponsorship from the Giwang household, a toast from Yoo Gi, even labor support from spirit beasts. If someone unaware of the situation heard about this lavish lineup, they might mistake it for one of my siblings getting married rather than Jo Wi-cheo.
'When are those two getting hitched?'
Come to think of it, I had no idea when Ryeong-i or Jin-i would tie the knot. Up until now, with me—the eldest—still single, they had plenty of excuses to stay unmarried. But that's not the case anymore, right? Of course, my wedding with Yi Yeon was fairly recent too. Holding the kids' weddings back-to-back would be odd, so a little delay isn't strange. Still, even if we push back the ceremonies, shouldn't they at least settle on partners beforehand?
'Partners.'
I was looking forward to seeing who their fiancés would be. Ryeong-i was a rising star in the Geum-ui-wi, and Jin-i was an all-rounder genius absorbing every bit of knowledge in the world. Even setting aside the Giwang bloodline, they were prime marriage material. I wondered who would be chosen as their glorious fiancés—or who Ryeong-i and Jin-i might set their hearts on.
"At least before Jin-i gets married, we'll have a niece or nephew."
- Kki-eak.
As I muttered while stroking Kkieak's neck, it let out a short cry as if in agreement. Niece or nephew—Jin-i's niece or nephew. In other words, the child between Yi Yeon and me. My blood heir, the great-grandchild of Giwang.
That precious life had taken root in Yi Yeon's womb.
"Heh."
The thought made me smile involuntarily. Even while shuttling back and forth to the office, or handling trips to Song Mountain, excavating King Hwanam's tomb, or unearthing the Tomb of the Western Chu Overlord, I'd made time for newlywed bliss with Yi Yeon without fail. I never missed the sweetness and tenderness of honeymoon life. And thanks to that, new life had come to her.
A child symbolizing the union of Yi Yeon and me, carrying the blood of both Giwangga and Akwangga.
'Nine months from now.'
Nine months. Not exactly tomorrow, but my heart was already racing. What would our child look like? How adorably lovable would they be? Just imagining it loosened the corners of my mouth.
Of course, the child's gender didn't matter at all. As long as they were born healthy, who cared? In a pure 14th-century world, maybe it'd be different, but here, with martial arts and Taoist arts existing, even a girl could thrive with enough talent. No issues there.
'Take Jwa Do-eosa—she's a woman.'
One of the Daesong's Twelve Great Masters and the head of the Dochalwon inspection agency was a woman. The gender gap in this world wasn't that wide. So, our precious firstborn—come into the world fresh and healthy like the fruit Samshik fetched. Don't rush out just because you want to see Mom and Dad.
...
"It'd be nice if Jin-i got married within nine months too."
I knew it was a futile hope, but I couldn't help clinging to it. Honestly, I couldn't even guarantee Ryeong-i's wedding within nine months either. But while Ryeong-i had a fifty-fifty shot, Jin-i's odds were zero percent.
"Is that kid still just studying?"
- Kki-ee-eak!
I gave a wry smile at Kkieak nodding along. Kkieak often shuttled between Giwangjeo and Song Mountain to play with the Shaolin folks. And Mother would pack side dishes and fruit for it to deliver to Jin-i, who was living self-sufficiently up there.
So Kkieak would drop in on Jin-i unannounced, and every time, it reported him quietly studying away.
'Being diligent is a problem too.'
A hot-blooded young man living away from home should at least have a secret girlfriend, right? Then Kkieak's arrivals would startle her into hiding or something. I hoped that was the case. If he had a girl, I'd even consider him marrying before Ryeong-i. Studying to become a stellar all-purpose official was great, but in the 14th century, finding a partner and starting a family was an important duty—and an act of filial piety.
"Kkieak."
- Kki-eak?
"Next time, go more stealthily."
Instead of flying and landing right in front of Jin-i's place, sneak up on foot. At my subtle suggestion, Kkieak stared blankly at me, as if calling out my nonsense. Hey, you never know. It could spot a flying poison bird from afar and clean up traces, but what if it crept up on foot?
'Otherwise, it's a headache.'
If even a foot ambush turned up nothing, we'd be out of options. The whole Giwang household would have to mobilize to find Jin-i a match. Not that I'd force him back to Giwangjeo. I'd promised to let him pursue officialdom until he was twenty, so no ending his Song Mountain life prematurely. But waiting until twenty for marriage would be a real hassle. He should wed before I did—at my current age. That way, Father and Mother could relax.
'If I comb through Kaepyeong, someone like Jin-i should turn up.'
A dedicated scholar buried in books. Spot one, ship them straight to Song Mountain for frequent meetups. Frequent meetings build bonds, bonds turn special. If not in Kaepyeong, scour all of Zhili. Jin-i wasn't bogged down like Jo Wi-cheo in bureaucracy—becoming a bachelor at twenty was a nightmare future.
A few days after the wedding, as I handled routine duties, a letter arrived from a Hanlim Academy scholar.
The classification of burial goods from King Hwanam and the Western Chu Overlord's tombs is complete!
When we sorted Duke Wuan's goods before, the Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief was touring the Central Plains, so we couldn't inform you in time. But now you're in Kaepyeong, aren't you?
Your merits were immense in bringing these treasures back to light, so if you have time, please visit Hanlim Academy!
I'd love to introduce them personally! These great artifacts owe their discovery to your hands—
'Already done?'
When I realized it was from a Hanlim scholar, I worried some bizarre incident had cropped up, but thankfully, it was just mundane news. The classification of King Hwanam and Western Chu Overlord's burial goods was finished. Why tell me specifically? Well, as the scholar said, I'd played a big role in those excavations. Becoming a one-day docent as thanks? Manageable.
'A Hanlim scholar as docent.'
Something thrilling about that. An expert with knowledge, eloquence, and passion explaining the goods. Could I finish in one day?
'Probably need five.'
From memory, those tombs yielded heaps of goods. With the scholar's personality, even minor items would get epic tales—five days without meals or sleep to see them all.
'Should I go?'
I pondered seriously. As a former humanities major in my past life, expert commentary appealed. But could I endure five days of all-nighters? The scholar said "when you have time," so I could decline citing busyness. No—rejecting unless absolutely necessary was wise. Hanlim's value: treasures in their vaults, organized data, polishing imperial edicts. Best to keep smooth ties with the scholar.
'I'll go.'
Decision made. Even if it meant five sleepless days of lectures, accept. Urgent tasks done, rest leisurely. Networking is bureaucracy too—endure it.
'Networking as work...'
In peacetime, everything's "work."
Finally, decades of effort bore fruit. Decades of toil, the fruition of desperate longing. To witness it, I headed to the Orhon River near Karakorum.
"We see the Prime Minister."
"Well done. Hard work."
Shamans greeted us swiftly upon reaching the Orhon. Patting their shoulders in praise, they bowed deeper.
"Open it. I'll check personally."
"Yes, Prime Minister."
At my command, shamans waved hands and chanted. Soon, the landscape warped, a small rift appearing. A wondrous sight every time. I knew shamanic power was bizarre and vast, but isolating space itself? Central Plains formations and Taoist arts too—the world held oddities aplenty.
Thanks to that strange power, I'd risen again.
"Prime Minister!"
"We see the Prime Minister!"
Slipping through, heroic steppe warriors bowed deeply.
"Raise your heads. You who should be proudest—why bow so low?"
"An honor, Prime Minister."
Their humility despite great deeds brought a smile. Truly splendid. Any arrogance, and they'd boast before me. 'But I wouldn't entrust such folk with this grand task.'
Chuffing a laugh, I proceeded. Praise and rewards could wait for results.
"This it?"
"Yes, Prime Minister."
The sight before me nodded approval.
- Gruk, grrrruk...!
- Krarakrak!
- Kuh-heong, keung-keung!
"Obvious troublemakers at a glance."
"Even before modification, they were savage. We can tweak temperament lightly even in mild ones, but the wild originals yielded best results."
Indeed—the beasts ahead thrashed with rolled-back eyes. Thousands, tens of thousands, maybe more. Bound in this space, awaiting release.
"Combat power?"
"Groups of big ones tie down even second-rates. More overwhelm first-rates; shamanism-enhanced ones match peaks."
"Excellent."
Satisfied, my lips curved. Beasts with human-slaying strength and speed, unyielding until death. A legion of non-humans.
"What if we unleash them all beyond the Great Wall at once?"
"My meager mind can't fathom, but it'd be quite the spectacle."
Precisely—nodding again. Yes, entertaining. Not human invasion, but beasts rampaging south of the Wall, across the Central Plains. Delightful chaos.
"Mass-produce steadily."
"Yes, Prime Minister."
Especially if endless hordes poured from the vast steppes.