Chapter 285: Campaign Against Joseon

Ye Xianggao rambled from enlightenment education to choosing the capital, then to proclaiming kingship and establishing institutions — it sounded like a scattered train of thought, but in plain terms it was all one thing: "settling the foundation of the state." Lin Qian knew that heirs chosen by a democratic polity would certainly be superior to hereditary succession.

But the current level of productive forces and thought could not support any democratic polity at all.

Under the old polity, then, Lin Shaoyuan was without question the future heir, and the sooner he began his enlightenment education, the more settled people's hearts would be.

Moreover, Nan'ao Island was after all small in territory and lacked hinterland; its greatest advantage was that it lay in the open sea, where the Ming could hardly threaten it, making it very safe. But now Nan'ao occupied the three provinces of Fujian, Guangdong, and Guangxi, and it took over ten days for orders to travel from Nan'ao to Guangxi — extremely inconvenient.

And land on the island was growing ever tighter, while traffic grew ever more congested.

For Lin Qian himself, the General Staff Headquarters was at Shen'ao, the Administrative Hall in the middle of the island, and his residence in the south — walking back and forth every day wasted a great deal of time. He certainly needed to move to a large city to improve administrative efficiency, and Guangzhou was clearly the best choice for balancing sea and land.

As for proclaiming kingship and establishing institutions, that was about securing a proper title.

Lin Qian had not proclaimed himself king before for fear of provoking the Great Ming and drawing a massive army to attack; now that a massive army was already pressing on his borders, provoking or not no longer mattered. "Helmsman" was after all a folk appellation, just like "Dashing King" — as a Helmsman appointing Regional Commanders and Governors was simply not legitimate enough in name.

Take Ye Xianggao's meticulous wording, for instance: he used "the land of the root" to refer to the headquarters rather than "capital city," because before a state was established, one could not use words like "capital" or "imperial capital."

After proclaiming kingship, establishing a preliminary political system, giving formal appointments to subordinates, and initially dividing up the benefits could avoid internal suspicion and infighting. Going further to establish a dynastic name and era name would also strengthen legitimacy and enhance orthodoxy.

But moving the capital and proclaiming kingship were both major matters that could not be settled in a short conversation, nor were they suitable for discussion at a family gathering, so Lin Qian laughed it off and let it pass. Ye Xianggao polished off another skewer of mutton and said, "Everything else can wait, but Young Master Yuan's enlightenment education cannot."

Lin Qian asked, "Grand Secretary, do you have a suitable tutor in mind?"

Ye Xianggao had long since made up his mind: "Send him to Guangzhou, and have Academy Head Xu teach him."

"Academy Head Xu is swamped with a thousand affairs — wouldn't enlightening a child be using a cleaver to butcher a chicken?"

Ye Xianggao chuckled. "Zixian (Xu Guangqi's courtesy name) is erudite in both ancient and modern learning, versed in China and the West alike. For Young Master Yuan to study under him — not only will his Chinese learning be secure, but Western learning will not be interrupted either. He is the most fitting choice."

The implication was that for Lin Shaoyuan's schooling, one only needed to consider whether the teacher was suitable.

The cultivation of the future heir was what mattered most; even technological progress and education had to yield to training the heir.

Not making Xu Guangqi resign as Academy Head and come running to Nan'ao to teach was already a great concession.

Only then did Lin Qian understand why Ye Xianggao had proposed moving the capital to Guangzhou — presumably so his great-grandson could attend school closer to home.

After a moment's thought, Lin Qian said, "Fine, it's settled. In a month, I'll send Young Master Yuan over."

As they spoke, Geng Wu brought up freshly grilled mutton skewers. Lin Qian told everyone to eat while hot, and also asked Geng Wu to grill more so that every guard and servant in the residence could have some.

Time slipped by to evening. Ye Yifan took his leave early due to business at the newspaper office, while the women gathered in the room to look at the baby.

Lin Qian and Ye Xianggao played chess under the eaves.

Beside them, Ran Qiu was brewing Wuyi Songluo tea using the infusion method; the fragrance of tea and flowers interwove through the courtyard on the warm spring breeze.

Lin Qian and Ye Xianggao were playing nineteen-line Go. On the board, Ye Xianggao's white stones had already claimed the central plains and three territorial corners — the northwest, northeast, and southwest. Lin Qian's black stones were trapped in the southeast, perilously close to collapse under the white offensive.

After another dozen-odd moves, the white stones broke into the southeast, splitting and encircling Lin Qian's forces. The overall situation was decided — Lin Qian was slaughtered in a total rout and threw down his stones in surrender. Ye Xianggao asked, "Troubled over the matters of moving the city and proclaiming kingship?"

Lin Qian gathered the stones and said, "Moving to Guangzhou is only proper — I'll have the Administrative Hall prepare tomorrow. As for proclaiming kingship, that should be done more slowly." As he spoke, the two had already begun a new game. Ye Xianggao placed a stone in the southwest corner and asked, "His Majesty has already made Nan'ao his number-one enemy and decreed a great army to encircle and destroy it. By not proclaiming kingship for now, are you avoiding an early decisive battle with Yuan Chonghuan?"

Lin Qian voiced his worries about factional strife, then added, "A few days ago, news came from the capital region: Supreme Commander Sun has led the Guanning Army to recover the prefectures and counties of Northern Zhili, driving the Jianzhou barbarians back beyond the passes.

But the Great Ming is fighting on three fronts, its national strength stretched thin, with no power left to go beyond the passes and face the enemy.

To the west, the Jianzhou barbarians have subjugated the remnants of Ligdan Khan's forces, controlling both the southern and northern Mongolian steppes — every point along the Great Wall is now a possible entry route, no longer limited to the single corner of western Liaoning. To the east, the Jianzhou barbarians have forced the Joseon court into submission, opening frontier trade markets at Huining, Zhongjiang, and elsewhere, with vast quantities of grain, cloth, ironware, and other goods flowing into Liaodong.

To the north, the Jianzhou barbarians have conquered the remaining Jurchen tribes, vastly expanding their population, and having never suffered a major defeat, their military strength is ample.

At a time like this, if I were to crush Yuan Chonghuan, the court's military, finances, and grain would all be stretched to the breaking point. If the Jianzhou barbarians then took the chance to pour through the passes and sweep south across the Central Plains — what then?"

"This old man would not wish to see the Tartar barbarians enter the passes and the Chinese realm lost either," Ye Xianggao said, picking up a white stone and hanging it in the southeast corner. "But since this is a struggle for the realm, casualties are unavoidable. If one hesitates and frets over every step, one will never accomplish great things."

Lin Qian played a black stone in the southeast to defend: "That brings up a second problem — once the Jianzhou barbarians do enter the passes, can the Nan'ao army truly defeat them?"

In history, when the Manchu Qing entered the passes, Zheng Chenggong was a maritime power — and what was the result? He was ground down to death by the Great Qing's coastal evacuation and sea ban. His closest brush with victory was the northern expedition against Nanjing in the fifteenth year of Shunzhi. In that campaign he led a hundred thousand troops and over three thousand warships, advancing west along the Yangtze with unstoppable momentum, taking major strongholds like Guazhou and Zhenjiang in succession before arriving at the walls of Nanjing.

In the end, Zheng Chenggong grew arrogant and complacent, fell for the stratagem of stalling for time, and suffered a disastrous defeat on land. Even though his navy never lost a single battle, he was finally broken in spirit and strength, and from then on never again had the ability to mount a northern expedition.

Even if Zheng Chenggong had taken Nanjing, would he have had the ability to fight the Qing army in open-field battles across the vast plains of North China and the Yangtze?

Since ancient times, feudal dynasties unified the realm from north to south — and not without reason. On a great plain, whether you have horses or not is the difference between life and death.

The Nan'ao army could rely on wagon formations for defense and dragoons to make up for insufficient mobility, but without proper shock cavalry, it would always remain on the defensive. Victories would be small victories; defeats would be great defeats.

The Nan'ao army's lack of cavalry was also a reason Lin Qian would not lightly seek a decisive battle.

After hearing Lin Qian's concerns, Ye Xianggao asked, "Is there no place overseas that produces horses?"

"Shipping warhorses by sea is no easy matter..."

As they spoke, Ran Qiu brought over the freshly brewed tea for the two of them.

Lin Qian took it and saw the tea was a clear green, its fragrance rich and full. The first taste was faintly bitter, but it left a sweet aftertaste as it went down the throat.

After tasting it, Ye Xianggao's eyes lit up and he repeatedly praised the tea.

Lin Qian did not care much for tea himself, and when he received fine tea he mostly stored it away at the residence, so whenever he had guests, he always served the best.

Lin Qian said, "Since you're here, how many warhorses has Nan'ao purchased overseas in these past few years?"

As confidential secretary, Ran Qiu kept a clear record of all kinds of data. After a moment's recollection, he said, "Right after we took Jeju Island, it was twenty or thirty horses a year. From the year the Treaty of Manila was signed, we added another five or six purchased warhorses each year, sent to Jeju Island for breeding."

The Treaty of Manila was signed in the seventh year of Tianqi — at most a little over two years ago by now.

Ye Xianggao was puzzled: "What does selective horse breeding have to do with the Treaty of Manila?"

"Since it's breeding, the point is naturally to improve the horses' bloodlines. The Spaniards' horses are called Andalusian horses — five chi at the shoulder, stout and strong — precisely the most suitable warhorses.

Additionally, Tsushima horses and Mongolian horses are also part of the breeding program.

These quality warhorses all share one trait: they are completely banned from export. Nan'ao's horses all came through war, smuggling, and sea transport — few in number and extremely costly. Using them directly to form cavalry is impossible; we can only breed our own, which is exactly what Jeju Island is doing. According to the island's horse keepers, we've just produced the third generation of hybrid horses. To fully optimize the population and achieve scaled reproduction will take at least another three or four years.

And what they call 'scaled reproduction' means small-scale — three to four hundred horses a year. To produce over a thousand a year would take nearly a decade." Within the entire Great Ming, only three places could produce quality warhorses: Northern Zhili, the northwest, and the Mongolian grasslands.

The northwest was too far from the sea, the Mongolian grasslands were under Jianzhou barbarian control, and Northern Zhili was under Ming control.

Smuggling small numbers of horses from these three places was easy for Nan'ao, but building a cavalry force through smuggling was far too difficult.

Of overseas horses — aside from the Spaniards' Andalusians and the Japanese Tsushima horses — most other breeds could hardly adapt to the Ming climate, let alone survive long-distance sea transport.

The Mughal Empire did have some decent warhorses, but they were too far away — beyond reach for now.

The south's shortage of horses was a historical problem. That Lin Qian could think of taking Jeju Island for breeding was already a solution without precedent and without successor — all that was lacking was time.

So from this perspective, the Great Ming could not be allowed to collapse too quickly either.

Lin Qian continued, "Beyond that, there is a third concern: the question of gentry privileges."

What many common folk do not know is that the tax exemptions and corvée remissions the Great Ming granted to the gentry were limited in quota, and only exempted corvée labor, not regular taxes. For example, a first-rank capital official was only exempted from thirty units of corvée; everything else could not be exempted.

By the later stages of this system's development, it had become full exemption—and through fraudulent registration and donated property schemes, even over-exemption was achieved.

Nan'ao's tax system merely re-surveyed gentry land and only abolished fraudulent registration and donated property schemes. In other words, it only eliminated the over-exemption portion—it did not touch full exemption, let alone advance to limited exemption or no exemption at all.

From a policy standpoint, this was already extremely lenient, yet it still produced a great deal of conflict. Only through exchanging maritime trade benefits and with Ye Xianggao mediating in the middle did Nan'ao's administrative bureau manage to maintain stability.

Most gentry in Fujian and Guangdong also operated as maritime merchants, so their positions were never very clear-cut—they could side with capital or side with land. But Jiangxi was the Donglin Faction's stronghold, where gentry-landlord power was intricately interwoven and astonishingly formidable.

Once Jiangxi was taken, what would happen to Nan'ao's reform policies?

Maintaining the status quo would drive landlords into the Great Ming's arms; offering maritime trade benefits wouldn't tempt conservative landlords to cooperate.

Not to mention the need to push reforms further, all the way to abolishing exemptions entirely.

If this problem isn't clarified in advance, if who is enemy and who is friend isn't thought through, if how to govern the region isn't planned ahead—then charging into Jiangxi and seizing territory as one's own would be a foolish act of a snake trying to swallow an elephant.

If this question were put to Lin Qian's generals, everyone would surely say that at worst, they could just kill all the landlords who dared to resist.

Li Zicheng did exactly that—and what was the result?

The Southern Ming landlords would rather shave their heads and change their clothing to surrender to the Manchus than throw in their lot with Li Zicheng.

In this era, landlords and local gentry had extremely strong control over their regions—they could even raise private armies. If the landlord class collectively opposed Nan'ao and fought Mobile Corps Commander public security wars everywhere, Nan'ao would be drowned in an ocean of landlord warfare.

In short, when rising up in rebellion, one must not imitate Li Zicheng!

After hearing Lin Qian's analysis, Ye Xianggao tossed down a chess piece and was about to speak when Lin Qian raised a hand to stop him: "Grand Secretary, hear me out first. I've been thinking these past few days—toward Jiangxi's gentry, we cannot make no move, but we also cannot make a full move.

First, by degree of wrongdoing, the gentry can be divided into three categories: the good, the coerced followers, and the chief culprits.

By degree of cooperation, the gentry can also be divided into three factions: the enlightened, the middle, and the obstinate.

We must clearly distinguish friend from foe—strike only the chief culprits, ask no questions of the coerced followers, win over and divide Jiangxi's gentry, and court the support of the middle faction. We must not force them into a monolithic bloc.

Second, we must continue advancing the village official system, extending government power down to the countryside to seize grassroots authority.

Arrange for disabled veterans, low-ranking government students, and peasant leaders to work in township offices, dismantling the local gentry through judicial, economic, and military means. Once their power weakens, push forward further tax reform, until exemption privileges are abolished entirely.

What does the Grand Secretary think?"

Ye Xianggao was silent for a long moment, then said, "This old man was thinking the same thing. Abolishing gentry exemptions and extending imperial power to the countryside is a great undertaking never accomplished in a thousand years. I imagine it must be done while one is still in humble circumstances—once one controls the whole realm, one's hands would be tied instead."

"In that case, I'll have to trouble the Grand Secretary with this matter. The three provinces of Fujian, Guangdong, and Guangxi must continue implementation, and there should also be detailed guidelines for how Jiangxi and Zhejiang should be handled." Ye Xianggao thought to himself, So this is where he was leading. Though this added new tasks atop his already heavy administrative burden, it was after all a great undertaking to break a thousand-year deadlock—he felt not weariness but rather a surge of excitement.

But a moment later, Ye Xianggao remembered there was still an unresolved problem and asked, "What about the Jianzhou barbarians?"

The methods Lin Qian had just described could only solve the gentry problem—even if Jiangxi were taken, they still couldn't stop the Jianzhou barbarians from breaching the pass.

"Then Nan'ao will trap the Jianzhou barbarians in Liaodong!" Lin Qian smiled and took out a black stone, placing it in the northeast corner of the board, amid a sea of white stones. "You want to use military force against the Jianzhou barbarians?" Even with Ye Xianggao's composure, he was startled by this astonishing move.

Lin Qian shook his head: "With Nan'ao's strength, we cannot sustain a two-front war of attrition, nor can we defeat the Jianzhou barbarians in a frontal battle in Liaodong. So this move cannot be too aggressive. The one I intend to use force against is the Joseon dynasty!"

"Oh, that makes sense—tell me more." As he spoke, Ye Xianggao placed another white stone in the northeast corner, surrounding and killing Lin Qian's lone deep-penetrating black stone. "The Jianzhou barbarians bleed Joseon dry to sustain their war against the Great Ming. What I want to do is plant a knife behind the Jianzhou barbarians' back—every time they show signs of breaching the pass, draw some blood from them.

At the same time, ginseng is hailed as the divine herb in the Compendium of Materia Medica, and Korean ginseng commands an extremely high premium in the Great Ming. Joseon produces it in abundance, making the trade volume quite considerable. Beyond that, the region also produces fine fox pelts, sable pelts, and other excellent trade goods.

There's also sulfur, timber, and other military supplies.

According to He Sai's estimates, Joseon's current total trade volume is around five hundred thousand taels of silver per year. If Nan'ao can exert influence, supplemented by appropriate development and stimulation, the trade volume could reach around one million taels.

This fat piece of meat, I plan to throw to Nan'ao's maritime merchants to devour—it should be enough to fill their appetites."

Having said this, Lin Qian placed another stone in the northeast corner of the board.

Ye Xianggao frowned: "This method won't work. Aside from Joseon, ginseng and furs are produced most abundantly in Liaodong. The Jianzhou barbarians sell to Joseon, and Joseon sells to the maritime merchants—doesn't that end up helping the Jianzhou barbarians instead?"

"The Great Ming blockades Liaodong, and Yuan Chonghuan blockades Nan'ao—Grand Secretary, has smuggling been sealed off?"

Ye Xianggao was momentarily at a loss for words.

Lin Qian said calmly, "Ginseng is hard currency in the Great Ming, yet it only grows abundantly around the Changbai Mountains.

Where there is demand, there is a market. The more it's banned, the more it rises in price; the more it rises, the more it's trafficked. It cannot be stopped.

Rather than letting the Jianzhou barbarians' ginseng and furs flow northwest to Shandong and other regions, trading for saltpeter and iron goods to flow back in—

Better to let Nan'ao handle the trafficking, selling them harmless goods like silk, tea, and spices. This is the way to weaken the Jianzhou barbarians outside of war. This method requires fine-grained control and detailed supporting measures—too much to explain in a moment—so Lin Qian only gave Ye Xianggao the general outline. After hearing it, Ye Xianggao's expression relaxed: "Your strategy is sound, but that aside, your black stones on the board needn't always go to their deaths..." With that, he placed another stone, cutting off the escape route of Lin Qian's black stone.

Ye Xianggao continued, "Joseon has always regarded the Great Ming as the legitimate sovereign, and having been invaded by the Later Jin, they surely won't readily trade with Nan'ao."

Lin Qian smiled: "That's not for them to decide."

At the same moment Lin Qian once again conceded defeat by placing down his stone.

The Candle Dragon had already sailed into the waters off Jeju Island, followed by the three fifth-rate ships Lingcang, Pocang, and Hengcang, as well as the newly launched fourth-rate ships Yunming and Xingming, plus five shark boats and fifteen eagle boats.

On the deck at the stern, the helmsman said, "Commander, Jeju Island is ahead."

Bai Qing said, "Have the fleet anchor in the offshore waters—let the envoy go first."

Signal flags conveyed the order, and one eagle boat detached from the fleet, continuing northward.

The Candle Dragon dropped anchor five hundred paces from shore, and Bai Qing boarded a launch boat to head for the island.

Gazing into the distance, Jeju Island appeared as a patch of tender green, with two herds of horses grazing around the docks.

At the docks, the old horse keeper was leading his men in welcoming them on the shore.

Back when Lei Sanxiang first came to the island, the old horse keeper had been desperate to leave Jeju and return to the Chinese heartland.

After Lin Qian took over Jeju Island, he abolished all the former harsh policies and shipped in large quantities of supplies from Fujian and Guangdong, improving people's livelihoods—the islanders' lives visibly got better.

The old horse keeper had rich experience in horse training. After completing the localization of Jeju horses in Fujian, he volunteered to return to Jeju Island and had been working there ever since. After Bai Qing came ashore, the old horse keeper stepped forward to greet him in Chinese, then invited Bai Qing to rest briefly in Jeju City.

Though Jeju City could not yet be called prosperous, at least the common people no longer lived in poverty, nor did they worry about being shot dead from the city walls by their own people. Bai Qing said, "Let's look at the horses first—the helmsman specifically instructed it."

"Certainly."

With that, the old horse keeper whistled, and in the distance a herd of horses was driven by the horse keepers, galloping toward them. As they drew near, the lead horse was a tall, large animal, jet black all over with a thick, dense mane and an extraordinary bearing.

The old horse keeper said, "Jeju horses originally descend from the Mongolian horses the Yuan dynasty people left behind, so when the helmsman had this old man breed them, I first chose Jeju mares and Mongolian stallions. The offspring are sturdy, tolerant of coarse feed, and have stable bloodlines.

Then I paired Mongolian-Jeju mares with horse stallions to increase the war horses' shoulder height. Andalusian horses are all tall, large animals—if the shoulder height isn't sufficient, they're prone to difficult births."

The old horse keeper stepped forward and patted the black horse's neck, saying, "This is an Andalusian horse. His name is Zhuangzhuang—he's a stud, and he'll be breeding very soon. He's the island's treasure. When the young lads graze him, they have to pick soft, thick grass in places without rocks for him to run on, and he gets fine feed at every meal." Bai Qing stepped forward to stroke the black horse, but the horse snorted, startling Bai Qing into immediately pulling his hand back.

It wasn't that she was timid—the black horse stood a full five chi at the shoulder, nearly matching a woman's height, and counting its neck and head, it was practically a giant beast, daunting to behold.

One of the crew members asked in confusion: "Since the size difference is so great, why not use an Andalusian horse as the mare for breeding?"

The old horse keeper looked at the questioner with bewilderment, as if stunned by the sheer stupidity of the question.

Bai Qing said: "We're seafolk, never seen breeding before. Do forgive us."

The old horse keeper chuckled: "No offense taken. When you call it breeding, it's always that good stock is scarce and bad stock is plenty. So naturally you want the good stock as the stallion and the bad stock as the mare—that way you get more pairings and more foals."

The questioner suddenly understood and laughed at his own foolishness.

The old horse keeper continued: "Jeju horses are short in the shoulder and weak in strength, but their merits are that they tolerate coarse feed, have great endurance, and are gentle in temperament.

Andalusian horses, on the other hand, have large frames, great strength, and speed—they're extraordinarily magnificent, and what's rarer, they understand human nature and are easy to train.

But these horses are very delicate—they need fine feed, shelter from rain and wind…

Last year, the two stallions the fleet brought from Luzon Island fell sick and died. What a tragedy…"

Recalling the past, the old horse keeper was deeply grieved.

"This year, Zhuangzhuang has been raised with great care—better than where people live—and we're counting on it to sire some magnificent foals, hehe… But this matter also depends on the will of Heaven. When breeding, you hope the foal inherits the strengths of both sire and dam, but it could also inherit the flaws of both—that takes time to work out…

As the old horse keeper spoke, he invited Bai Qing to head toward Jeju City—several mares were already pregnant and resting in the stables, so it was a good time to go take a look. On the way, the old horse keeper probed: "The Commander brought so many warships this time—surely it's not just to look at horses. Are you here to fight the Jianzhou barbarians?" Bai Qing said: "Merely to pay respects to the Joseon king."

Two days later, the hawk ship sailed into Incheon Harbor.

Nan'ao's envoy Ji Bai disembarked and rode in a carriage with the Joseon reception officials into Hanyang.

In the carriage, the envoy lifted the curtain and saw that the shops lining both sides of the road all bore signboards in Chinese characters, along with numerous academies—the atmosphere of learning was thick. "Joseon holds Confucianism in the highest esteem. Here it is called Zhuzi Learning, and it is the foremost school of thought."

The speaker was Meng Tingchuan, Nan'ao's naval Company Commander stationed on Jeju Island. He had spent years on Jeju and was thoroughly familiar with Joseon's affairs, which was why he had been brought along on this mission as an assistant.

Ji Bai said: "Since Joseon esteems Confucianism so highly, they naturally understand the distinction between Chinese and barbarian. Surely they will support us in helping fight the Jianzhou barbarians?" "Hard to say."

Meng Tingchuan said: "The Jianzhou barbarians breached Joseon in the fifth year of Tianqi. Though they didn't station troops in Joseon, their lingering might remains. The Joseon court, high and low, may not dare to offend the Jianzhou barbarians. When the envoy meets the Joseon king tomorrow, you must choose your words carefully."

The two rested one night at Mohwagwan in Hanyang, and the next day formally met with the Joseon king, Yi Jong.

Under the guidance of the Minister of Rites, the two were brought to the royal palace.

Ji Bai presented the state letter. Chief State Councillor Choe Myeong-gil glanced at it only once before setting it aside, saying: "Your army calls itself the Nan'ao Army—what sort of name is that? Do you honor the Ming and campaign against the Jin?"

Ji Bai clasped his hands and replied: "The Nan'ao Army is a righteous force from the southeast of the Great Ming, come to rescue the people from fire and water. We wish to aid Joseon in driving out the Jianzhou barbarians, asking only that Joseon open its islands to us and permit our troops to station and trade."

"Hmph. Fine words. How mighty are the Jianzhou iron cavalry—even the Ming's Guanning Iron Cavalry could hardly stop them. What can a band of rebels like you accomplish? In the end, you'll only drag my Joseon into the flames of war."

The speaker belonged to Joseon's pro-peace faction—to put it bluntly, the surrender faction, inclined to maintain the alliance with the Jin.

Joseon was a nation highly skilled at internal strife. Whenever any matter arose, the court would split into several factions and could never form a united front.

On the question of dealing with the Later Jin, the pro-war faction advocated resisting the Jianzhou barbarians on the grounds of righteousness and principle, so they were called the Righteous Principle faction.

The so-called "righteous principle" meant the distinction between Chinese and barbarian, the great cause of righteousness, the bond between sovereign and minister. To put it even more plainly—better to lose the nation in defeat than to lose one's integrity.

To the Righteous Principle faction, surrendering to the Great Jin meant losing the great cause—but wasn't cooperating with Ming rebels equally a lapse in righteousness?

Thus at court, the pro-peace faction believed that agreeing to the Nan'ao Army's demands would invite retaliation from the Later Jin.

The Righteous Principle faction angrily denounced the Nan'ao Army as rebels, saying that agreeing would betray the great bond between sovereign and minister.

And the pragmatic pro-war faction, caught between the two, had only a weak voice.

The Joseon king, Yi Jong, was in fact a pragmatic pro-war advocate—receiving the Nan'ao envoy had been his decision.

But he was soft-eared. Seeing the pro-peace and Righteous Principle factions in agreement, he lost his resolve, and finally hedged: "It is growing late today. Please, honored envoy, return to Mohwagwan and wait for now."

Ji Bai gave a cold snort and said: "I never expected that on the grand court of Joseon, all we find are idle talkers—shrinking back and yielding when trouble comes, or stubbornly clinging to foolish loyalty. Can any of that drive back the Jurchen scourge?"

Chief State Councillor Choe Myeong-gil flew into a rage at these words: "You rebels dare to speak loftily of the affairs of the world? Your Majesty, arrest these two men and hand them over to the Ming court." Another Righteous Principle official said: "Your Majesty, the Nan'ao fleet occupies Jeju Island. Why not detain these two as hostages and force Nan'ao to return it?" Yi Jong was greatly troubled—between the Great Ming, the Jianzhou barbarians, and Nan'ao, he didn't want to offend any of them: "Let the two of them go back."

"Your Majesty!"

"Your Majesty!"

The ministers in the hall urged in unison.

Yi Jong rubbed his brow and said: "What more do you want? When two armies clash, one does not execute the envoy. Joseon is also a nation of propriety—what reason is there to detain envoys?" At this, the ministers fell silent.

Chief State Councillor Choe Myeong-gil said: "Your Majesty, the rebel envoy spoke insolently in the hall—there must be some punishment."

Yi Jong waved a hand: "Do as you please."

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen