Chapter 392
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 392
Chapter Title: Ascension During Mourning
Unless it was something urgent, Go Mi rarely visited Yi Hwan late at night.
Yi Hwan cleared the table and sat facing her.
“Has something happened?”
“The Qin Emperor ultimately failed to recover.”
Yi Hwan’s hand paused as he lifted his cup to his lips.
“So it’s come to this in the end.”
Yi Hwan drained his cup and continued without delay.
“We need to quickly assemble a condolence delegation.”
“It would be too dangerous for you to go in person. Though the Qin Kingdom suspects the Zhao Kingdom as being behind the ambush, no one knows how the situation might shift.”
“I wasn’t planning to go myself anyway, so don’t worry.”
“Understood.”
Yi Hwan leaned back in his chair, subtly furrowing his brow.
“Now it all hinges on Yang Mu’s abilities. The future course of the Qin Kingdom will depend on how swiftly he quells the chaos.”
“From the information we’ve gathered so far, it seems there won’t be any major issues with his ascension to the throne. The emperor has long bolstered the crown prince’s position, and most of the court officials support Yang Mu as well.”
“Politics is unpredictable, though. In any case, it’s best to back Yang Mu, since variables could arise anytime, anywhere.”
“Are you saying we should?”
“Yang Mu is an easy one to handle. His ascension would be the best outcome for us.”
“How do you plan to lend him support?”
“We’ll figure out the methods step by step. That aside, I’d like the Moon Lord to accompany the condolence delegation to the Qin Kingdom.”
“Me… personally?”
“What the Moon Lord needs to do there is…”
Yi Hwan began his explanation. By the time he finished, Go Mi was biting her lip thoughtfully.
“Understood. I’ll go and do my utmost.”
Yi Hwan rose abruptly.
“I need to see His Majesty.”
“It’s too late.”
“He’s not the type to care about that.”
“…I’ll prepare the carriage.”
“Better to ride horses. Sending the condolence delegation as quickly as possible is the bare minimum courtesy toward the Qin Kingdom.”
“Understood.”
* * *
The emperor’s passing.
The Qin Kingdom was plunged into grief.
Since it came right after losing a key commander to the Zhao Kingdom, Yang Mu issued an emergency alert to the entire army without a moment to mourn.
The news reached Jo Yun’s ears as well.
* * *
Jo Yun’s expression was peculiar as he shared a drink with Wu Mun-sul.
Wu Mun-sul asked cautiously.
“Even so, with the emperor’s death, shouldn’t we send a condolence delegation?”
“We should.”
“Then I’ll prepare it right away.”
“Make the delegation as large as possible. Even if it’s an enemy state, we should observe the proper formalities.”
“Understood.”
Jo Yun emptied his cup.
Thud.
“If Yang Mu becomes emperor, it’ll only make things harder for us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Yang Mu is a greenhorn who falls far short of his father’s political acumen. Easy to manipulate—that’s what I mean. But not for us—for the Yeon Kingdom.”
“…”
“If we hadn’t gone to war, we might have been able to win him over, but now the relationship is beyond repair…”
That was the reason for his peculiar expression.
Wu Mun-sul’s face hardened.
“He’d be easy prey for Yi Hwan.”
“More like a plaything.”
“…Yes.”
Jo Yun leaned back in his chair, frowning.
“Does that mean assassinating the emperor was a misstep?”
“…”
Wu Mun-sul’s face grew even stiffer.
Though Jo Gwang-mu had decided on the Qin Emperor’s assassination, he had actively supported it. If blame were assigned, he wouldn’t escape unscathed.
“I’m not blaming the military, so don’t overthink it.”
“Thank you.”
“Bring more wine.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Jo Yun watched Wu Mun-sul’s retreating figure, his gaze cooling.
‘With our forces fully assembled, conquering the Qin Kingdom afterward just got easier.’
The problem was the non-aggression pact with the Yeon Kingdom.
‘As if that scrap of paper means anything.’
Jo Yun’s eyes turned icy.
‘Don’t you think the same?’
* * *
Qin Kingdom Imperial Palace.
Despite the mourning period, Crown Prince Yang Mu hastened his ascension, citing the uncertainty of when the Zhao Kingdom—having seized a key commander—might advance south.
Neng Bi, now head of the Golden Army, summoned armed troops into the palace to pressure the officials. The justification and atmosphere favored Yang Mu. No one dared step forward.
Thus, the ascension during mourning proceeded swiftly and without hitch.
The Qin Kingdom’s new era dawned amid sorrow.
Days passed.
The Yeon Kingdom’s condolence delegation arrived first. The Zhao Kingdom’s followed a day later.
Yang Mu, who had secretly hoped Yi Hwan would come personally, couldn’t hide his disappointment. His presence would have greatly boosted his prestige among both the Zhao Kingdom and the Yeon Kingdom’s envoys—and their people.
Be that as it may.
Yang Mu’s treatment of the two nations’ delegations differed starkly. The Zhao delegation wasn’t even allowed incense, and they were lodged in rundown quarters.
In contrast, the Yeon delegation was given an entire palace hall, complete with numerous dedicated cooks and maids.
Go Mi was there.
She shared the largest room with one female operative from Moon Pavilion, while next door were Ju Tae, Kim Mu-gwan, and Park Ji-mun, disguised with human skin masks.
“Have some tea.”
“Thanks.”
The female operative grinned cheekily, chin in hand. She was Hwa Ryeong in disguise.
Clatter.
Hwa Ryeong opened the window. The hall’s elevated position allowed a view of the palace grounds.
‘Impressive.’
The Qin Imperial Palace dwarfed the Yeon Kingdom’s in scale and splendor. It was almost disconcerting to behold.
“The Qin Kingdom must be prosperous. Even the wind chimes on the gates are all solid gold.”
“Jealous?”
“A little.”
Snicker.
“But they get thrashed by the Zhao Kingdom every time. They should’ve spent that money on strengthening their military instead.”
“Well, true.”
Hwa Ryeong took a sip of tea and asked something else.
“No matter how well we’re treated, there are eyes following our every move. Can we really gather intel?”
“We’ll have to stay as long as possible and watch for openings. Speaking of which, ascension during mourning? It’s absurd. There’s such a thing as imperial decorum…”
“Maybe he was that desperate. Or perhaps the crown prince’s position was more precarious than we knew.”
Go Mi nodded silently at Hwa Ryeong’s words.
Then.
“May I come in?”
Ju Tae’s voice drifted in.
“No?”
Hwa Ryeong teased.
Go Mi pinched her arm lightly.
“Come in.”
Ju Tae opened the door.
“I was thinking of heading to the market. Anything you need? I’ll pick it up.”
“Why the market…?”
“The wine here is so bland. I asked about buying some huajiu, and they said it’s fine to go out. How do these guys drink and sell this swill? Tsk tsk tsk.”
Hwa Ryeong said.
“I’ll take anything sweet.”
Go Mi fell silent in thought, then suddenly stood and changed into an outer robe.
“I’ll go too.”
“Then me too.”
* * *
Visiting envoys were to use the north gate, not the main one. Yet even the north gate was staggeringly grand.
Ju Tae muttered in disbelief.
“Smallest landmass, yet they love everything oversized. Tsk tsk tsk.”
“With that much money, why not?”
The three headed south through the north gate toward the market. Unbeknownst to them, shadows trailed discreetly behind.
* * *
“It’d normally be bustling, but it’s a shame.”
Given the circumstances, the market was eerily quiet, the mood heavy.
Go Mi and the others entered an inn.
Hwa Ryeong suggested.
“Shall we have a drink, just us?”
“We’ve come this far; a round is the least for the errand.”
The three went up to the second floor and took a window seat.
Ju Tae suddenly lowered his voice, eyes sharpening.
“We’ve got tails.”
“I know.”
Just then, others ascended to the second floor. They took the opposite window seat.
[Zhao Kingdom guys?]
[Could be Qin side.]
The waiter arrived.
“Two bottles of huajiu and the house specialty dishes. Don’t skimp on quality.”
“Got it.”
Go Mi subtly shifted her chair to naturally view the newcomers.
Three young men in white robes. Her eyes quickly scanned them.
Her gaze lingered on one’s hand, flashing with interest.
‘Carries a sword but no calluses…’
Yang Chan came to mind. His hands were pale and soft like a woman’s.
[Could be a poison user. Stay sharp.]
[Got it.]
* * *
Qin Kingdom Imperial Palace.
Second Imperial Prince Yang I-cheon tilted his cup. He had just returned to his quarters, feigning illness to slip away from Yang Mu, who was overseeing the funeral.
A young man sat before him.
“Any who went out?”
“Three from the Yeon side headed to the market.”
“Got people on them?”
“Yes.”
Pour.
Thud!
“If anything turns up, report to me, not my brother. Understood?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“And the Zhao side?”
“They’re all holed up in their quarters.”
“Watch them closely. One of them’s bound to slip out to scout.”
“We’ve got men on it. No worries.”
“Dismissed.”
“Yes.”
The young man left, and a middle-aged man entered. Yang I-cheon glanced at him before sipping again.
The man sat opposite and spoke quietly.
“Grand Commander Yuan wishes an audience.”
“Why does that toothless, clawless tiger want to see me?”
“He says it’s urgent. Might be worth meeting, just in case.”
“I’m tired now. Tell him later. By the way, any disguised infiltrators among the Yeon or Zhao delegations?”
“Yes. Nothing unusual, contrary to your concerns. We’ll keep investigating and watching closely. Ah, His Majesty has issued orders too, so the Golden Army is mobilizing.”
Twitch.
Yang I-cheon’s brow curved slightly.
His rage toward Yang Mu—for placing Neng Bi at the head of the Golden Army—remained unquenched.
Was it sudden fury? Yang I-cheon downed a bottle straight.
Gulp gulp!
Thud!
‘When war breaks out again, we’ll see what you do then, brother.’