Who would refuse an offer to return the fortress and simply walk away?
When Wang Pilsun finished speaking, the room remained silent for a long while.
The lamplight wavered in a faint draft, shadows flickering across the walls, and Song Isul stood as if buried within those shadows.
After a long moment of thought, Park Seongjin raised his head.
"Then there is no use in making the request."
Wang Pilsun smiled quietly.
"Yes. That is how the world works. They will not even listen. They will dismiss it as the rambling of a merchant seeking his own survival."
There was nothing more to add.
Where trust was lacking, conversation could not stand. Meaning itself failed to arrive.
Park Seongjin remained seated, flexing and releasing his fingers. After a brief silence, he rose slowly to his feet.
"Please, at least see to our original purpose," he said calmly.
"Our return home."
"By sea?"
"If possible, pursue whatever course makes it feasible. I would like an answer within three days."
Wang Pilsun nodded.
"Very well. It is the sort of thing one does while knowing it is impossible. How could one ever carry three thousand men by ship?"
At the number three thousand, Park Seongjin startled. He had been counting only the main force that departed from Goryeo and Liaodong.
Seeing his expression, Wang Pilsun continued evenly.
"Excluding the troops gathered in the capital. I will see whether at least the men who left Gaegyeong can be embarked."
He paused, looking at Park Seongjin.
Park Seongjin let out a breath. That still came to three thousand.
"And do not forget," Wang Pilsun added, "that even this will require consultation with Zhang Shicheng."
"That decision is not mine to make," Park Seongjin replied shortly.
"To be honest, even if it is the road to ruin, I would rather decide quickly."
He bowed and withdrew.
When he opened the door, moonlight stretched long across the river, seeping into the hem of his flowing dallyeong.
Song Isul followed him out and muttered low,
"So… we're finally going back?"
Park Seongjin turned.
"Yes. Now we must find the road home."
A river wind stirred. The once-placid ripples broke against the banks, and their shadows wavered before sinking into darkness.
Their footsteps dissolved into the mist above the water.
Somehow, the sound felt like an omen of a new war.
His heart was impatient. They needed to leave quickly.
Yet nothing in the world moved more slowly than a boat. No matter how one urged it, no matter the effort, it always seemed to crawl.
When the boatman gripped the oars, Park Seongjin took the opposite one.
He was not skilled, but strength could make up for it. The small vessel rocked violently as the two men alternated, driving the current aside. Each stroke shattered moonlight into fragments across the water.
That night, they left Zhenjiang and returned to Liuhe Fortress.
Two warriors rowing together—an almost unbelievable speed.
Passing through the gate and heading for the command tent, the smell of battle and blood still filled the air.
Park Seongjin went straight to Yi Injung and delivered his report.
"I conveyed all of his intentions."
"However…" He hesitated.
"I am not certain I conveyed them fully. I said everything, but something feels missing, General."
Yi Injung said nothing for a long while.
Then he slowly exhaled—a breath carrying the weight of an age.
He rose and paced the hall several times, muttering low,
"This has never happened before."
"So this is harder than war."
He could have ended it there, ordered preparations for withdrawal.
But standing before the face of a disciple who had returned bearing a heavy task, what fault could he assign?
The work had been done. That much was clear.
After some thought, Yi Injung turned toward a corner.
There stood Song Isul, quiet as a stray child taken in.
"What do you think, Elder?"
Song Isul blinked.
"Do you know who I am, sir?"
"How could I not?" Yi Injung laughed.
"How could I fail to know Song Isul?"
"I merely pretended not to, since you dislike attention."
"Well then."
Song Isul scratched his side, embarrassed.
"You heard everything. What do you think?"
"What? I'm the sort who does what he's told. I've no grand thoughts."
He spoke casually, then added,
"But at a glance, it sounded right. It's time to step out of the Yuan Empire's shadow."
He paused.
"A three-way balance. Peace only comes when all sides know they can't win outright. That's real peace."
His tone was light, but the substance was solid.
"Even to someone like me, that merchant's words sounded convincing."
"Thank you for your opinion," Park Seongjin said with a respectful bow.
Song Isul added,
"One thing, though."
He tilted his head.
"I don't know who among the three will unify the land, but people seem to rate Zhang Shicheng highly. I don't."
"Then who?" Yi Injung frowned.
Song Isul smacked his lips for attention, then blurted out,
"Chen Youliang."
"He's to the west, strong in naval power. If you want ships, he's the best bet."
"And Guo Zixing?"
"Caught in between. Hit from both sides. He won't last long. Unlucky man. Earnest, serious—but that's all. If he swallowed Zhang Shicheng, it'd be different, but do you think that eel would let himself be eaten?"
Park Seongjin lowered his head.
Only now did Guo Zixing's reasons for aiding Zhang Shicheng come faintly into view.
Outside, the iron wheels of the huihuipao creaked on.
The metallic groan seeped into the tent like the distant crying of the front lines.
The war had not ended.
Only the nature of the struggle had changed.
Midstream of the River — A Secret Meeting
Night.
Mist pressed down upon the water at the center of the river south of Liuhe Fortress. It was so still that even the sound of oars seemed to lose their way.
Yi Injung stood at the prow of a small warboat.
Park Seongjin and Song Isul were beside him.
No one spoke. Words did not belong to this night.
A single light approached, riding the ripples. Beneath the swaying lantern, a banner came into view—Zhang Shicheng's.
"He's coming," Yi Injung said quietly.
The two boats halted at a measured distance. Soldiers silently drew in their oars. Only the commanders crossed narrow planks toward one another.
The mist parted, moonlight spilling through, revealing Zhang Shicheng's face.
Younger than expected, yet his eyes bore the marks of long war—of countless defeats and recoveries.
He bowed first.
"General of Goryeo, you have labored greatly."
Yi Injung returned the courtesy.
"In times like these, how can those who bear swords blame one another?"
"We all fight to survive."
Zhang Shicheng seemed to turn the words over, then nodded.
"Well said."
"And so—"
He paused, as if catching his breath, then spoke slowly.
"Before anything else, I wish to renew an old bond with Goryeo."
Park Seongjin inhaled sharply. Instinct told him this was the heart of the night.
Yi Injung asked without averting his gaze,
"Renew it how?"
"I wish for you to return home safely," Zhang Shicheng said evenly.
"That your struggle be recorded not as obedience to Yuan command, but as a choice made by Goryeo."
"I will open the waterways of Jiangnan and move the merchants to secure ships."
"I will take responsibility for your return."
The water rippled softly within the mist.
Yi Injung did not answer at once. After a long look at Zhang Shicheng, he asked,
"And the condition?"
"There is only one," Zhang Shicheng replied.
"That Goryeo remembers how this war ends."
He exhaled heavily.
"That my desire for Jiangnan is not power, but survival—and that what remains after this chaos is not land, but people."
He gazed at the river.
"Goryeo has already shed enough blood."
"It is time to be repaid."
Yi Injung bowed slowly.
"I will deliver your words to His Majesty."
Who would refuse an offer to return the fortress and simply walk away?
No more was said.
The mist thickened again, moonlight fading. The planks were withdrawn, and the boats parted, drifting in opposite directions.
Only the sound of oars pushing water remained.
Park Seongjin asked softly,
"General… do you trust him?"
After a pause, Yi Injung answered,
"It is not trust."
He stared ahead.
"It is necessity."
"And choice. In times like these, choice shapes history more than belief."
Zhang Shicheng's lantern wavered, then vanished into the mist.
The river flowed on, quietly holding the moonlight.