Return to the Capital and the Shadow of War
Midway through the journey back to the Great Wall, there were all sorts of incidents, but we successfully forged an alliance with the Beukhaebinggung and returned to Kaepyeong.
My grandfather and the Ten Thunders raining down bolts like mad, the awe-inspiring sight of it all witnessed by the envoys from Kaepyeong and the trembling peasants. Whether you can brush that off with "odds and ends" is debatable, but hey, it all ended well enough, right? It saved a farmer's life that was on the brink of ruin in an instant.
'Does artificial lightning even work?'
Spreading drought-resistant crops and distributing cattle was definitely effective for reviving agriculture, but I'm not sure if unleashing the Ten Thunders was the right call. I'd heard that lightning striking the soil improves its fertility. But that's natural lightning with rain, not this kind of man-made bolt from a clear sky. What if it just scorches the earth black and that's it?
'...It'll be fine.'
But what's done is done, so I pushed it aside. Artificial lightning is still lightning. I had to believe it had a positive effect on the soil. Back when I was Left Vice Inspector General touring the Central Plains, hadn't I baked a memorial stele with lightning to overwhelm yin energy with massive yang qi? Even man-made lightning doesn't change its essence or effects. Besides, even without soil benefits, the crops and cattle alone would get them through.
Rice might taste and nourish better, but surviving the year on drought crops and farming more vigorously next year with the new cattle? What joy could be greater?
"─Thanks to the resolute Jiayu Commandant, the rampaging beasts in Gansu have been subdued, and Pojeongsa's swift and appropriate response has wiped away the tears of the suffering people. Regrettably, we can't say the damage is fully repaired, but it has given the people hope that things can improve."
We arrived at the Gonghuwon with Grandfather, where he personally reported the journey's events and outcomes to the Emperor. Of course, the Gold Guards had already briefed him on the Beukhaebinggung matter. We just needed to cover what happened in Gansu.
"Moreover, the people suffering from the barbarians moved even common folk to pity, and private citizens stepped up to help them."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Si Hyeo-won, a man from Sichuan who recently relocated to Gansu, already considers it his home. How could he not act nobly, seeing the farmers as neighbors?"
In the midst of it, Grandfather mentioned Si Hyeo-won, who had sprouted from the soil of Ugeom, to the Emperor. It was probably his way of showing consideration and reward. With the time to gather like-minded people and tour villages, plus the funds to distribute drought crops everywhere, they were surely on track to become local magnates.
The scion of such a family entering the Emperor's ears? Even without taking the exams, it opened doors for the Emperor or Gansu officials to appoint him. An honor among honors in this era.
From Grandfather's perspective, it was a glorious reward not just for Si Hyeo-won but for his entire clan.
"Truly admirable. Everyone knows to do good and love thy neighbor, but knowing and acting are different matters. Yet this Si Hyeo-won put vital knowledge into practice at the most desperate moment—a model for all scholars."
Seeing the Emperor nod approvingly, I figured an imperial envoy would soon visit the Si family. Whether for praise, gifts, or outright conscripting him into office—it was all good fortune for them.
"In any case, you've labored greatly, old master. Traveling to distant Beukhaebinggung must have tired you, and then inspecting the people's sentiments in Gansu besides."
"Your Majesty, such words wound me. My pride is in my sturdy body—why take that from me?"
"Haha, I've erred with you, old master."
Grandfather's jest drew laughter from the Emperor. But it wasn't entirely wrong. Among Hwagyeong masters, Grandfather rivaled the top two. For him, the trip to Beukhaebinggung was just a long stroll.
I was the exhausted one. Newlywed or not, I'd crossed the Gobi Desert and Mongol steppes to near Siberia. I was the victim here.
"Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Your labors and merits are truly great. I can only be grateful to the Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief, who never betrays my trust."
"I am deeply honored, Your Majesty. I merely did my duty as Your Majesty's servant."
Still, I bowed to the Emperor's praise. Fine, he acknowledged the hard work. It was regrettable sending a newlywed to Beukhaebinggung, but I'd volunteered when I could've refused. Blaming the Emperor felt iffy.
"Speaking of which, I heard an intriguing tale. Beukhaebinggung took great interest in the white deer that accompanied the Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief?"
"Yes. They hold white beasts auspicious, and since I arrived with one, they were overjoyed."
"Indeed. Truly the will of Heaven."
With that, the Emperor approached me personally, patted my bowed shoulder. Too much contact—not great for the heart. Not my first time, but praise with words and rewards sufficed.
"The Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief encountering the white deer on Hengshan, it following you, and journeying together to distant Beukhaebinggung. Without these wondrous coincidences, how could we have this alliance? You may deem your role small, mere chance, but it stems purely from your virtue."
His lavish praise had me bowing deeper. Embarrassing. Honestly, the Beukhaebinggung alliance felt like a freebie even to me. Staying composed under such words required shameless brass.
"Thanks to the Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief's efforts, we've planted a dagger at the Mongols' rear. And soothed the hearts of the people on the Gansu front."
I squirmed inwardly, but his voice grew distant.
"The time has come. To end the people's suffering, the army will soon march north."
He spoke calmly yet fervidly of mobilization. I bit my lip. I knew the expeditionary force was forming. Human conflict loomed after the beast chaos. But hearing "mobilization" from the Emperor's lips shattered my resolve in an instant.
This was the first war in my era. Not a skirmish, but one deciding the nation's fate.
'Family heading to war for the first time too.' I straightened and glanced at Grandfather. He met my gaze with a faint smile and nod, as if to say not to worry.
'Like I won't.'
I knew better than anyone that Grandfather could claim the world's best. But nonchalance with family at war? Only a stranger could manage that. Family couldn't.
Besides, Father would join him—something Grandfather didn't yet know. I tried calming myself, but couldn't.
"Old master."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"As Emperor Wu of Han and Taizong of Tang did before. I intend to make the northern barbarians kneel before the Central Plains."
"Your Majesty's troops will heed Your Majesty's command. Those rude, reckless barbarians will bow to the one true Son of Heaven."
No reply came. The Emperor merely smiled at Grandfather's words.
War. Best avoided if possible, but if unavoidable, victory is mandatory—a colossal clash inevitably demanding sacrifice, forcing the father of ten thousand to send his children to death.
'War, huh.'
Unwelcome. Horrific. Lamentable that my decisions sparked it.
Yet unavoidable. Daesong and the Mongols can't coexist. Even if total annihilation eludes us, we must crush their spirit to never eye the Central Plains again.
If they moved first, Daesong would breach the Great Wall. For the realm and the people.
Sparing the Mongols from war aversion is like opening the door to bandits.
"Kirin. Fenghuang."
- Kiriring?
- Boooong?
"You two were born in the wrong era."
The qilin bows only before the sagely. The fenghuang appears in grand peace.
Legends suited these children. So why were they here? I wasn't sage, nor had I brought peace.
- Kiriring~
- Boooong.
Yet they rubbed against my legs, whimpering. A smile crept up. Auspicious beasts following me? Denying the joy would be a lie.
'So I'll see you as possibility.'
Yes. Their appearance was potential. I wasn't yet sage or peaceful sovereign.
But proof I could become one. With effort, a wise ruler. Or a great one bringing peace.
Or, paying blood in my era, my successor could be the benevolent sage.
To the Four Auspicious Beasts, human lifespans were fleeting.
'Not a bad future.'
Then Daesong would hail the great first Emperor and the third, worshipped with the Four. Even mediocre, I'd be the bridge between greats.
Satisfying. How many second emperors in Central Plains history were duds, tyrants? A bridge between two greats was superb—perfect ambition.