The Dragon Awakens in Suchun
Deep into the night, on a remote mountain peak near Suchun where no human footsteps echoed, an old man clad in tattered robes sat atop a boulder, gazing up at the starry sky. His eyes reflected the dance of tens of thousands of stars.
Slowly, he raised his staff, pointing it at a constellation in the northern sky. It was a star that should have blazed red before plummeting into oblivion. Yet it burned with an eerie brilliance, spinning ferociously as if devouring the surrounding stars.
"Heh heh... How strange."
A sigh escaped the old man's lips.
"This wasn't how it was supposed to unfold. A doomed clan rises again, and a fierce tiger escapes its trap. The will of heaven... it's been utterly twisted."
The old man's gaze shifted to where the starlight pointed—toward the city of Suchun. There lay the variable responsible for all these anomalies.
"You who defy the flow of these chaotic times. Who the hell are you?"
The old man leaned on his staff and rose to his feet.
"I must see for myself. Whether you're a hero to save the world... or a demon to burn it all down."
The next day, in Seowon's private office in Suchun. He was buried in administrative paperwork when a servant entered cautiously and bowed.
"Military Strategist, there's a beggar outside insisting on seeing you."
"A beggar?"
"Yes. An old man in ragged clothes, reeking of filth. He demands to meet you right away. Shall I chase him off?"
Any ordinary general would have sent him packing. But Seowon set down his brush. His senses tingled with something unusual.
"No. Bring him in."
"Pardon? But..."
"It's fine. Serve some tea."
Moments later, the servant ushered in the old man. His hair was disheveled, his robe threadbare—a perfect picture of a vagrant. Yet his eyes gleamed with piercing intensity.
Seowon rose and greeted him courteously.
"You've come to this humble place—please, have a seat."
The old man sat without hesitation and stared straight through Seowon, as if peering into the depths of his soul.
"Young general. I've come with one question for you."
"Ask away."
The old man toyed with his teacup before dropping a weighty query.
"Do you believe in fate?"
The question came out of nowhere, but Seowon didn't flinch. He countered calmly.
"What do you think, elder?"
"Heaven has its paths, and stars their fixed positions. From birth, a man's vessel and his road are set. Defy them, and disaster follows."
The old man's words echoed the era's common truth: the Mandate of Heaven. Predestined fate.
But Seowon smiled and shook his head.
"You're wrong."
"Wrong?"
"Fate doesn't exist. It's just the outcome of countless choices."
He pointed out the window.
"The wind doesn't blow to a predetermined place. It shifts with the interplay of forces in that moment. Human affairs are the same. There's no fixed path. The road is where I walk, and fate is what I choose."
I know the future. Yuan Shu's downfall, Cao Cao's dominance, Sima Yi's unification. But if he'd accepted that as inescapable fate, he wouldn't be here now.
"If heaven's path leads to a cliff, I'll sprout wings and soar above it. That's my idea of fate."
The old man stared blankly. After a long silence, he burst into roaring laughter.
"Hahaha! Refreshing! No fixed path, eh? So that's why the stars are dancing."
He stood.
"In my life, I've seen countless heroes, but eyes like yours? A first. I'll watch how far those wings take you."
The old man vanished like the wind, leaving no name. He could have been Zuo Ci, Yu Ji, or just some wandering eccentric. But his visit gave Seowon certainty: he was on the right path.
That night, Yuan Shu summoned him. The tent reeked of sweet honeyed water and sharp liquor. Yuan Shu was thoroughly drunk, his face flushed, curled up fiddling with his cup—not his usual arrogant poise.
"Seowon."
"Yes, my lord."
"Have a drink."
Seowon accepted politely. Yuan Shu filled his cup, gazing at him with uncharacteristic seriousness and misty eyes.
"Why... are you under my command?"
After the daoist's query by day, now his lord's profound question.
Seowon set down his cup and met his gaze.
"What do you mean all of a sudden?"
"Be honest. Your talents are unmatched in the realm. Strategy surpasses Cao Cao's, martial prowess rivals all but Lu Bu. Even Sun Jian covets you. So why me, of all people?"
Yuan Shu gave a self-mocking laugh.
"They call me 'Skeleton' behind my back. All bones, no substance. Compared to my brother Yuan Shao, I lack prestige; no genius like Cao Cao's either. And commanding armies? Forget it."
Buoyed by drink, Yuan Shu was spilling his deepest insecurities—the inferiority complex of a noble house's son.
"I'm just a guy who loves honeyed water and luxury. So why does a prodigy like you stick by me? Waiting to lop off my head someday?"
It sounded like drunken rambling, but the suspicion was pure Yuan Shu.
Seowon straightened and replied with steady eyes.
"My lord, do you know Emperor Gaozu of Han?"
"Liu Bang? The emperor who unified the realm. Of course."
"He said it himself: plotting in the tent, no better than Zhang Liang; governing and logistics, no better than Xiao He; leading a million troops to victory, no better than Han Xin."
Yuan Shu listened silently.
"By talent alone, Gaozu was inferior. Yet who took the world? Not Zhang Liang, Xiao He, or Han Xin—but Liu Bang. Why?"
"Because..."
"He had the ability to command those brilliant men."
Seowon locked eyes with him.
"It's true—I'm good at fighting and thinking. But I'm a sword. A sword can't move alone. It needs a master to wield it."
"And I'm... that master?"
"Yes. You back the realm's greatest clan, hold vast bases like Nanyang and Suchun. And above all..."
Seowon smiled.
"You have the boldness to recognize a man like me and grant full authority. That's the mark of a true sovereign. Lacking military skill? Use me. Short on strategy? Ask me."
He offered Yuan Shu his cup.
"I'll be your Han Xin, your Zhang Liang. You just sit on the throne and trust me. That's the art of employing men."
Yuan Shu stared blankly. The incompetent fool everyone mocked, likened to Liu Bang by his subordinate. No mere flattery—this was a bold vow to make him emperor.
Silence stretched, filled only by the crackle of candle flames. At last, Yuan Shu drained his trembling cup in one gulp.
"The art of employing men... commanding talent..."
He set down the empty cup with a wry smile. But this smile carried new weight.
"Right. Even if I can't wield a blade, gripping a famed sword makes me invincible. Seowon, be my peerless blade."
"As you command."
That night, Yuan Shu drank no more.
A month after settling in Suchun, strange rumors swirled through the offices.
"Hey, you hear? The lord's been acting weird lately."
"What? Demanding honeyed water again?"
"Nah... he's studying."
Soldiers and servants whispered. The playboy Yuan Shu cracking books? As likely as the sun rising in the west.
Seowon went to verify, heading to Yuan Shu's office. Even outside, a clear voice recited classics.
"The Way of the Great Learning lies in manifesting bright virtue..."
Peeking in, he beheld a shocking sight: renowned old Confucian scholars from Suchun, lecturing Yuan Shu at his desk.
Not the picture of a model student, though. Yuan Shu yawned widely, propping his chin, honeyed water in hand.
"Aigoo, Doctor. Too complicated. Can't you simplify? Make the people comfortable, and the state thrives—right?"
The sweating scholar nodded frantically.
"Y-yes... exactly, Rear General. You've grasped the essence."
"See? Twisting simple truths makes me sleepy."
Yuan Shu grumbled but stayed put. The man who'd once flipped tables yelling "Boring! Out!" was enduring it.
Spotting Seowon, Yuan Shu brightened and beckoned.
"Oh! Seowon! Perfect timing. These geezers are killing me with boredom."
Seowon entered, chuckling.
"My lord, what's prompted this dive into the classics?"
Yuan Shu sipped his honeyed water, sheepish.
"You said it: I need talent-commanding skill. So I'm checking how ancient emperors handled their ministers."
He tapped the desk.
"These books, though... pure sleeping pills. Still, I'm sticking it out. Gotta endure to be like Gaozu, right?"
Yuan Shu grinned. Not the spoiled young master's smirk—this was a lord acknowledging his flaws, striving to mend them.
Seowon's chest warmed. The reviled tyrant Yuan Shu was changing. Slowly, but surely.
His choices, scorning fate, were rewriting even Yuan Shu's destiny.
"Excellent, my lord. As they say, a good start is half the battle."
"Quiet. Sit and suffer with me. Can't let me take it alone."
Yuan Shu tugged Seowon's sleeve, seating him beside. Seowon smiled wryly and complied.
Warm spring sunlight streamed through the window. Suchun's spring. The sprout of their dreamed empire was, however faintly, taking root.