120
Before the Southern Canals — The Arrival of the Commanders**
Dawn mist still clung to the water when it happened.
Along the fringe of the southern canals, the flags of multiple camps swayed like waves, and from far off came the echo of hoofbeats. The vanguard appeared first—cavalry emerging out of the fog. Two lines held their spacing with exactness, their speed unwavering. The red embroidery at the tips of their banners caught the faint light and came alive.
It carried a different grain from the armies Seong-jin had watched moving through Liaodong's dust. Their blades held a sharp sheen. Their polished armor showed clean, disciplined lines. They were not many, yet their movement contained the pressure of a full corps.
"It's Goryeo troops!" a soldier from the intelligence detail shouted.
All eyes turned in one direction.
There were only several dozen of them, but these were commanders who had passed through major battlefields—men rushed out from Gaegyeong to take charge of the newly formed tribal units. Former court military officials, officers trained in the Mu-hak Hall, and old generals whose names had already been etched into record—many of them men you would recognize if you heard their names spoken.
Among them were commanders with longer careers and higher rank than Yi In-jung himself.
They looked like faces left behind after war had finished its cruel sorting.
At the front stood a broad-shouldered man of tall stature. Over his ash-blue armor, a neat red tassel hung with restraint. He dismounted first.
"I would see Commander Yi In-jung, Supreme Commander of the Jiangnan Expedition."
Yi In-jung stepped forward as well. They met each other's eyes, raised the military salute, and the man dipped his head.
"I am Yun Gyeong-bok, Byeoljang of the Tonggunbu, dispatched from the homeland."
"Thank you for coming so far," Yi In-jung said.
Yun Gyeong-bok gave a brief laugh.
"The real work begins now. The court ordered me to take command of the tribal troops. To blend the Goryeo men gathered in Yanjing with the elite from the homeland—and forge a new fighting unit."
"I place them in your hands," Yi In-jung replied.
Yun Gyeong-bok's gaze shifted toward the tribal troops—men in Mongol-style robes with bows slung over their backs, Goryeo descendants who had lived through Liaodong and Yanjing. Relief spread over their faces as they met the eyes of a commander from home.
Yun Gyeong-bok spoke low.
"Those gathered here have survived harsh conditions. People who carried a country in their hearts while living outside its borders. Thanks to you, today we stand as one army."
That afternoon, the tribal troops conscripted in Yanjing and the main force from Gaegyeong entered training together. Their accents differed, the lengths of their weapons varied, even the draw weights of their bows were inconsistent. Yet there was a common grain in their movement.
It was the breath of those who had left home and kept walking.
And yet the expressions on the commanders' faces were not good.
It was hard to name, but they looked like men pushed out by court intrigue—generals driven far away and sent to the margins. At dusk, a red sunset spilled over the riverside behind the camp. Seong-jin stared at the soldiers' shadows reflected on the water.
It felt like an era lining itself up toward its end.
Toward the edge of the world—where all currents gathered.
Yi In-jung and Yun Gyeong-bok — The Situation in Jiangnan
That night, the command tent for council burned with a heat no less intense than a battlefield. A single lamp, shaped like a crescent moon, rested over the map, and beneath it Yi In-jung and Yun Gyeong-bok sat facing one another. Within the tent, only the soft sound of wind and the rasp of paper touching paper passed between them.
Yun Gyeong-bok spoke first.
"Near the Great Khan, the signs of assassination have continued. In a single month, poisoned drink was presented twice, and three movements aimed at regicide were detected. Around His Majesty Toghon Temür, plots are already layered thick."
He paused, choosing his next words carefully.
"Chancellor Toqto* has seized that flow. He has protected the imperial authority—and taken the military power into his own hands as well."
* Toqto (also known as Tokto'a / Toghto; 脫脫) was a dominant powerholder in the late Yuan, a figure who held up the empire's core. Of Merkid origin, he stood at the center of authority yet kept far from ornament and indulgence. He did not flaunt merit, and even while holding power he maintained the forms of serving the throne. He treated wealth lightly and honored scholars with courtesy, and though Mongol, he earned trust even within Han society. His temperament was humane, with a clear tendency to keep people within his embrace rather than discard them. That nature would later place him on a harsh test—yet among the Yuan ruling class of his time, he was often judged as something close to white jade among stones.
Yi In-jung answered in a low voice.
"Yes. Toqto was originally a civil official. A man who walked a road far from battle—yet now he is the hand that moves armies."
Yun Gyeong-bok nodded.
"The grand host he assembled has already entered Jiangnan."
Yi In-jung's eyes narrowed.
"If such a force is already moving, why were Goryeo warriors summoned into this fight?"
Yun Gyeong-bok lowered his head briefly before continuing.
"There are men who wish to return to Goryeo—Chae Ha-jung, and Haratîmûr."
At that name, Yi In-jung's face hardened.
"Those traitors."
Yun Gyeong-bok's voice remained calm.
"They remain within the Yuan and now seek the chancellorship of Goryeo again. When Yuan gathered troops to strike Zhang Shicheng, they demanded that Goryeo send an auxiliary force. In our court, support for that demand grew."
He slid the map slowly under the lamp.
"And then he said this: that certain individuals must be sent. He meant to drag the military officials who obstruct his return into this battlefield. That is why we are here."
Only then did Yi In-jung see the current clearly.
In Dadu, Chae Ha-jung's hand had been at work.
* Chae Ha-jung: a Goryeo civil official and political operator, also a diplomat—remembered in hostile terms as a corrupt courtier.
"We will not be returning to Gaegyeong," Yi In-jung said quietly.
"That is correct," Yun Gyeong-bok replied."They selected only those they would be happy to see dead, and sent them. They used the Jiangnan campaign to remove those who oppose my return as well."
He nodded once, coldly.
"He compiled a list of names that needed to be 'cleared' for his homecoming, and sent it to Goryeo. That is why the elite commanders of our realm have gathered here."
Yi In-jung's jaw tightened.
"Borrowing a knife to kill. He opens his road with someone else's blade."
* Borrowing a knife to kill (借刀殺人): a stratagem—harming someone by using another's weapon.
Yi In-jung exhaled slowly and shifted the topic.
"I heard they already struck Han Shandong*."
* (Context note in the original:) A leader among late-Yuan Red Turbans. He claimed to be an eighth-generation descendant of Emperor Huizong of Song. In 1351 (Zhizheng 11), when the Yuan court forcibly mobilized commoners for Yellow River repairs, he attempted to raise rebellion in Yingzhou, but the plot was exposed and he was captured by troops sent by local officials and executed.
"Yes," Yun Gyeong-bok said, voice lowering."But the aftershocks continue. Three figures remain who inherit his line, and each calls him 'master.'"
"And the people's gaze?" Yi In-jung asked.
Yun Gyeong-bok's answer came quietly.
"They call Zhang Shicheng—whom we are moving to attack—an righteous man (義人)."
Silence fell.
Seong-jin felt his chest grow heavy.
If the enemy commander was called righteous, then what did that make them?
Outside the tent, the dull thud of chopping wood sounded, and between those blows a distant flute slipped into the wind. Yun Gyeong-bok spoke again, his eyes tired.
"Zhang Shicheng was born a salt merchant—an yan-shang (鹽商). He lived as a dealer of salt before raising revolt. Yet few call him a bandit."
Yi In-jung asked, "Why is he the first target?"
Yun Gyeong-bok answered without words, extending a single sheet of paper. On it, one short line was written.
'We will rebuild the empire through the circulation of Jiangnan.'
Yun Gyeong-bok explained.
"Toqto's own hand. If the southern granaries are blocked, the empire's breath grows shallow. If rice does not rise to Dadu, the markets in Dadu empty. If the flow of salt is cut, the army stops. Zhang Shicheng has seized the Grand Canal. The waterways linking north and south are clogged. Jiangnan's goods cannot rise to Dadu."
He pointed at the map—near Yangzhou.
"Zhang Shicheng holds both arteries now."
Yi In-jung's gaze cooled.
"Then the justification."
Yun Gyeong-bok gave a short laugh.
"The same words, always used. 'For the peace of the empire.'"
Yi In-jung rose slowly. The lamp lit half his face.
"Peace is always built on someone's blood. That is the empire's way."
Yun Gyeong-bok pulled back the tent flap. In the night sky, a reddish moon hung.
"Zhang Shicheng is the opponent we must face. But it is also true that the man's feet touch the people's will."
Yi In-jung answered, "It is war. Right and wrong are another matter."
Yun Gyeong-bok nodded. He spread the map again and tapped a point in southern Jiangnan.
"That is why Goryeo troops are needed. If a person like you does not hold the center, this war loses direction. Zhang Shicheng's fortress—Gaocheng (高城). If it falls, Jiangnan's breath breaks, and the empire's vessel will move again."
Yi In-jung stared at the point for a long time, then murmured low.
"To cut that breath… is that something a human hand can bear?"
The title righteous man remained lodged in his mind.
A man branded with rebellion, standing in the place of the enemy—yet spoken of in the people's language as virtue. Whenever they fought alongside Yuan, such questions returned.
The battlefield always demanded judgment like this.