448.The final red banner of the Ming dynasty hung from the walls, damp and unsteady, twisting in the morning light.
The sky above Yingtian (Nanjing) was clear and blue, unbroken by even a single tear.
Beneath that blue canopy, an age seemed at last to be walking toward its end.
The final red banner of the Ming dynasty hung from the walls, damp and unsteady, twisting in the morning light.
Countless deaths and the stench of defeat were compressed into that single length of cloth.
On the broad road outside the gate, the formations of Jin Youliang's army and the Goryeo forces had finished assembling.
Armor caught the sunlight and glittered like thousands of stars.
The Goryeo warrior corps wore uniformly calm expressions, while Jin Youliang's cavalry stood in orderly lines, carrying the smell of earth and dust.
They moved slowly, like clouds.
They had come to witness, with their own eyes, the moment when a piece of the world would be overturned.
Clank—clank—
the sound of chains being released from Yingtian's massive gates.
That long metallic echo was also the sound of the ruined city's final resistance quietly ending.
The gates began to open.
It felt as though a beast that had held its breath too long was finally exhaling.
Beyond the drifting dust, the remaining Ming commanders appeared.
They had once each led their own armies.
Now a cold pallor of defeat covered their faces.
As they stepped beyond the gate, the soldiers of both armies, lined in two ranks, drew their breath without meaning to.
Men who only a few years earlier had decided the fate of the Central Plains now walked out in a single line, heads bowed like criminals.
The last to emerge was a general with his arm tightly wrapped in bandages, his gaze still alive.
He shouted loudly,
"Great General—
we come to surrender, having audience with Lord Zhu!"
The entire formation trembled slightly.
That single declaration marked the end of the Ming dynasty.
Zhu Yuanzhang came out through the gate beside Park Seong-jin.
The chains were gone, but the marks on his wrists remained.
At the sight of him, the remaining soldiers fell to their knees all at once.
"Lord Zhu!!!"
It was a wail—
a cry that seemed to shake heaven and earth.
Park Seong-jin stepped one pace back from the center of that cry.
This was the final farewell, the last rite shared between Zhu Yuanzhang and his soldiers.
Zhu Yuanzhang spoke, his lips trembling.
"Live…
do not die anymore.
You gave me your hearts.
There is no shame in that."
The weeping swelled louder.
The Ming imperial banner, carried out by the remaining commanders, fluttered in the wind.
With shaking hands, they slowly lowered it.
For a brief moment, the wind fell silent.
As the banner descended, it was as though the sounds of the world paused as well.
When the banner was fully lowered, the breathless tension spread like ripples.
Ming—ended.
That day, one axis of the world disappeared.
Opposite the gate, Jin Youliang stood silently, watching with a hardened expression.
Beside him were Yun Dam, strategists and generals of Jin Youliang, Zhang Shicheng and his staff, and Yi In-jung as the representative of the Goryeo army.
After a long silence, Jin Youliang spoke.
He slowly swept his gaze over the walls, the gate, the great road, and the landscape beyond the river.
His voice was low, but that very lowness spread wide, like a curtain.
"This shall become the capital of the new state."
The generals inhaled.
"Your Majesty, you decide now?"
Yun Dam asked.
Jin Youliang nodded.
"Yingtian connects in all directions.
It is fertile, and it is the heart of Jiangnan."
He looked for a long time at the fallen Ming banner.
"I will make the fallen capital of Ming the capital of the new Han."
A murmur rippled through the soldiers.
They felt, in their bodies, a country changing, history turning.
Soon, a new banner began to rise into the sky.
A red field bearing the white character Han (漢), edged with a golden dragon motif.
It was the banner of Jin Youliang's new dynasty—the Later Han.
As the banner reached the top, a strong wind blew from the Yangtze.
Parararak—
a majestic sound.
It was a wind that seemed to accept the decision of heaven.
Jin Youliang released a long breath.
"From today, the Later Han is reborn."
When his words ended, the current of the world seemed to shift, just slightly—
like the sound of the first page of a new age being turned.
Within the crowd, Park Seong-jin stood quietly.
He did not look long at the rising banner.
Instead, he watched the faces of the surrendered soldiers.
Those who had survived.
Those kneeling.
Those weeping.
Their hearts were more precious than the name of any state.
Within Seong-jin's chest, a single sentence echoed softly.
Only when people change does the world change.
The banner had changed, but the road people must walk remained long.
That was the truth he held most deeply that day.
After the fall of Yingtian, in a hastily restored main hall in one corner of Nanjing, the smoke of war still lingered.
Yet within that haze, the breath of the new dynasty spread very slowly.
Jin Youliang, Yun Dam, Yi In-jung, the adviser Ju Deuk-myeong, and the general Wang In gathered.
A newly drawn, massive map lay open.
To the north: the Northern Yuan.
To the south: the Later Han.
To the east: Goryeo.
The power of the world was now divided into three axes.
Yun Dam spoke quietly.
"My King, Jiangnan will soon stabilize.
Now that you have made Nanjing the capital, it is time to bring order to the north."
Yi In-jung followed.
"The Northern Yuan spans both the Central Plains and the Mongol steppe.
If we establish a pact with them, we can aim for a century of peace."
Jin Youliang clenched his jaw.
"Tripartite balance—
that phrase is no longer words on paper, but a road."
Yun Dam pointed to the map.
"Goryeo has stabilized Liaodong.
The Northern Yuan has lost the strength of the last generation, but still holds its ground.
We must align intentions with the Great Khan and finalize the threefold division of the world."
Yi In-jung nodded.
"If we do not, the Northern Yuan may one day see Han as an enemy and draw the sword.
A formal summit is necessary."
Jin Youliang's gaze moved to the far north of the map, toward Karakorum.
After a pause, he tapped his finger slowly.
"Who should be sent as envoy.
It cannot be someone light."
Yi In-jung stepped forward carefully.
"For Goryeo, rather than myself acting alone, we must first submit a request to the Goryeo court.
I have commanded on the battlefield, but I lack the vessel to persuade the great design of tripartite balance.
We should send an envoy to Goryeo to seek fraternal alliance, and only then proceed to link Yuan and the Northern Yuan."
Jin Youliang nodded.
"Good.
Let us align words with Goryeo first.
But the envoy of the Later Han…"
Yun Dam took up the thought.
"The Northern Yuan scholars are rigid.
If words lack substance, they will cut them down immediately.
We need someone who can persuade by reason."
Yi In-jung lowered his voice further.
"Among the scholars taken with Zhu Yuanzhang, there may be one suitable man."
Yun Dam's eyes narrowed.
"You mean Zhu Yuanzhang's strategist—Liu Bowen.
Would he move?
I have heard he fled."
Jin Youliang gave the order without hesitation.
"He must be somewhere.
Summon him.
If he is gone, find him."
Soon after, an elderly scholar with a gaunt face and thin dignity was brought in under guard.
Even with his head bowed, an unbroken spirit clung to him.
"Has the King summoned a defeated lord's errand man?"
His voice was thin, but his intent was firm.
Jin Youliang spoke plainly.
"I would appoint you as envoy to the Northern Yuan to discuss the tripartite balance."
The scholar smiled quietly.
"My King, persuade me first."
Yun Dam and Yi In-jung widened their eyes.
The scholar stepped forward and looked down at the slackened ropes.
"I am Lord Zhu's scholar.
Even if the tides have turned, my duty remains."
His eyes flashed.
"And what treatment is Lord Zhu receiving?"
Jin Youliang fell silent.
It was true—they had captured the enemy's head, yet failed to accord even minimal dignity.
The scholar's voice hardened.
"When a defeated lord is broken, those who remain lose their purpose.
If you disgrace him, I will go to the Northern Yuan and tell the Great Khan of the ambitions of the Later Han."
Yun Dam bit his lip once.
"State your conditions,"
he said.
The scholar replied calmly.
"Restore the defeated lord's dignity.
Leave him some honor.
Preserve his life, if you will."
"Let him remain, whenever he leaves this world, as a hero who once commanded it—
and let him fade as such."
Then he added an unexpected request.
"And grant me an audience with Commander Park Seong-jin."
The air in the hall froze.
Yi In-jung asked carefully,
"Do you know him?"
The scholar's narrowed gaze trembled slightly.
"He is a warrior unlike any I have seen in this world.
The ideal of a warrior."
"If I may speak with him once,
I will stake my life to stand before the Great Khan."
Jin Youliang drew in a breath.
This did not sound like a prisoner making demands,
but like a strategist making a final choice to preserve what little dignity remained.
Yun Dam swallowed quietly.
Park Seong-jin—again.
Why did everyone seek Park Seong-jin?
A young warrior with no official rank, who had only gone to the battlefield and swung his sword.
And yet, people looked to him for the direction of the road.
Yun Dam closed his mouth, unable once again to turn away from that truth.