Chapter 1519: The Goryeo Court

"Ai, what use is your compensation money anyway?" He Jingkun still shook his head. "What we need is copper, not cash. We can't cast cannons out of gold and silver, can we? Now they're pressing us from the other side, and if I say we can't deliver the copper and tell them to take the money instead, do you, Honored Envoy, think that explanation will satisfy my colleagues?"

"I am deeply ashamed…" Yagyu Motosai's head drooped even lower; one could barely see any of the swordsman's pride he once carried in years past. "I must beg you, my lord, to intercede on our behalf once more."

"I can intercede all I want, but what use are mere words? They want copper — I can't just fob them off with a few sentences, can I?" He Jingkun couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "You, Honored Envoy, have come a long and arduous way, and you have indeed worked hard. I won't deceive you: we in the Foreign Trade Department all know that maritime trade is a troublesome affair, with disaster liable to strike from the heavens at any moment, so we've made preparations for many things to meet unforeseen needs. As for copper, we built up some stockpiles beforehand, stored away in the warehouses. Now every department is coming after us for it, and we're using those stockpiles to hold the line. But these stockpiles can't hold the line forever. I reckon at the current rate of consumption, they'll be exhausted in less than two or three months. If by then no new copper has come in to replenish them, I truly won't know what to do on my end. So, Honored Envoy, tell me plainly: can copper ore exports to our country be restored within two or three months? And if so, roughly how much?"

"My lord, I will do everything in my power to bring this about and strive to have the shogunate restore exports as quickly as possible." Yagyu Motosai finally raised his head, though his face still showed some difficulty. "However, as you know, my lord, the copper we export must all be painstakingly extracted from the mines and transported to Nagasaki. That will inevitably take some time. It may be… it may be… that within two or three months, the amount of copper we can ship out will indeed be small. But please rest assured, my lord, we will increase copper production afterward and strive to make up the full shortfall your country requires by next year."

Seeing that the other party was still giving the same reply, the smile on He Jingkun's face slowly faded, and his plump countenance now seemed to carry a hint of dark anger. "What, does the Honored Envoy perhaps think that because I am easy to talk to, I can be manipulated at will? This won't do and that won't do — do you imagine our country can simply be pushed around by yours?"

"My lord, calm your anger!" Yagyu Motosai apologized profusely, and only with great difficulty did he manage to make the other man's expression gradually clear.

"I had no wish to be angry. It is you who have forced me to it!" He Jingkun's brow remained tightly furrowed. "We have always spoken with good words and a gentle tone in our discussions with you, Honored Envoy, yet you always have this reason or that cause, and simply refuse to show sincerity. In the final analysis, this is the result of your country's own willful actions, is it not? Even setting aside relations between our two nations, even in ordinary business dealings, what is valued above all is good faith. How can there be any justification for acting in this manner? Your country has pulled a stunt like this, and yet we still patiently negotiate with you, still speak with good words and a gentle tone to discuss matters — is this truly not enough?"

"My lord's words fill me with unbearable shame; there is indeed no excuse I can offer…" Yagyu Motosai's expression was also dejected and grim. "In the end, this is the result of some people's lack of foresight. It is just that the great error has already been made, and we can only proceed according to the present circumstances. I beg your lordship's magnanimous forgiveness. I can make it unequivocally clear to the shogunate that this matter shall not be repeated."

"Do you mean to use the three words 'there's no choice' to make us accept these consequences? You are being rather presumptuous, Honored Envoy." He Jingkun still refused to yield. "Besides, I have already made it perfectly clear to you: we cannot bear the solution you are offering. What you, Honored Envoy, ought to be doing is thinking of another solution, not coming to us with more complaints. The shogunate's affairs are not ours to manage, nor do we have any interest in managing them. If you, Honored Envoy, cannot accomplish this, then we will have no choice but to think of other measures ourselves. After all, our Foreign Trade Department is not entirely staffed by men who draw a salary and do nothing. There will always be someone who can take charge of trade matters with Japan. It's just that when that time comes, I will trouble you, Honored Envoy, to explain things properly to the shogunate."

His words, spoken with such bluntness, made Yagyu understand: the Great Han's position was already quite firm. Within two or three months, at the very latest half a year, normal supply must be restored, and the previous export shortfall must be made up — there was no room for maneuver.

By the implication of his words, if this could not be done, then the Foreign Trade Department would also take actions that would affect Sino-Japanese trade, perhaps even suspending trade altogether. At that point, his own position would become precarious, and those above would certainly hold him accountable — even though the responsibility had never lain with him in the first place.

And if the Great Han severed trade with Japan, the harm Japan would suffer would be far heavier than what the Great Han would endure. Having finally restored diplomatic relations between the two countries and expanded trade step by step, would it not be a terrible pity if things reverted to the state of mutual isolation seen in the former Ming era? Would his own future and reputation not also be utterly destroyed in an instant?

No matter what, he had to think of a way to resolve this copper export problem. Even if they had to use the bronze vessels from Buddhist temples to make up the numbers, they had to maintain trade and preserve the relationship between China and Japan — should any unforeseen event occur, he simply dared not imagine the consequences.

"I understand your meaning, my lord. I shall certainly write back to my country and have the shogunate grasp the gravity of the current situation and resolve it immediately!" He stood up, then bowed deeply.

"It is rather good that you, Honored Envoy, possess such sincerity. If everyone in the shogunate conducted themselves as you do, we would be spared a great deal of trouble." He Jingkun's expression finally softened. "For this period, please stay in the capital, Honored Envoy. Let us all cooperate fully and resolve this dispute."

"Hm?" Yagyu Motosai did not react immediately. "You wish me to remain in the capital, my lord?"

"If you, Honored Envoy, do not remain here, and those above assign blame, it is not a burden I alone can bear." He Jingkun gave a cold laugh. "This grand gesture of your country has already alarmed the Department Head and the Minister of Commerce. It is quite possible that at any moment they will summon you, Honored Envoy, to clarify the situation. Could you, Honored Envoy, answer such a summons instantly from Tianjin? However, you may rest completely assured. Our Ministry of Commerce has no shortage of places for hospitality; you will not be lodged in any discomfort…"

"I understand. Thank you, my lord." Yagyu Motosai considered no further and agreed to the other's demand.

Soon after, following a few more polite pleasantries, He Jingkun, citing other official business to attend to, politely had Yagyu Motosai shown out. Naturally, someone would then escort him to the Ministry of Commerce's exclusive and luxurious guesthouse to take up residence.

If it weren't for orders from above telling us to stall you, who would be this polite to you… Watching his departing figure, He Jingkun thought to himself.

On that same day, in Hanseong, Goryeo, a thousand li from the capital, the weather was utterly different from the brilliant sunshine bathing the Great Han's capital.

The sky was overcast and gloomy, the clouds very thick. The air was heavy with moisture, and a fine, drizzling rain was falling. The light rain mingled with a cold wind, driving the chill deep into everyone's bones, making this early spring as cold as winter.

Everyone walked with heads lowered, bodies hunched and wrapped tightly in their clothes. Even the royal guards within the palace were no exception. Under the somber sky, even the roof tiles and walls of Gyeongbokgung Palace seemed stained a layer of gray, inevitably casting one's mood into melancholy.

This feeling was especially acute in Kim Sin-guk, the Goryeo court minister who was about to have an audience with the Great King. He wore a wide-sleeved court robe, so the cold wind kept pouring into it, freezing him severely. Yet for the sake of a court minister's dignity, he could only endure it, and so his complexion was somewhat blue and extremely unsightly.

His gloomy mood, however, was not solely due to the cold rain of early spring.

With the nation's fortunes so dire, how could a minister not be consumed with worry?

Although it styled itself a "Little China," Goryeo was, after all, not a wealthy and powerful great nation. Thus, the palace was built on a very modest scale, showing little of the grandeur of the Central Kingdom's Forbidden City, and its grounds were not very extensive. Entering through a side gate of Gwanghwamun Gate to the south, he soon made his way deep into the palace.

Yet though the architecture lacked grandeur, years of indoctrination in the cardinal principles of ethics had made these Goryeo ministers extremely punctilious in observing ritual. Their bearing and demeanor within the palace were all deeply reverent. Kim Sin-guk naturally abided by the rules as well, following step by step behind the palace guards. Despite the worries filling his mind, he still maintained the proper decorum of a court minister.

After passing Geunjeongjeon Hall, where the sovereign and his ministers held court assemblies, he arrived at Sajeongjeon Hall, where the sovereign handled the daily affairs of state, and then, led by an attendant, entered the hall.

As soon as he entered, he found the sovereign, Yi Hon, half-reclining on the royal throne, resting with his eyes closed, while an attendant beside him was reading aloud from a memorial.

Without hesitation, he immediately walked forward step by step to the center of the hall, then performed a most respectful ceremonial bow and knelt in prostration.

"Your subject Kim Sin-guk, prostrates himself before His Majesty!"

Hearing his sonorous and forceful cry of greeting, the sovereign Yi Hon slowly opened his eyes, struggling to sit up from the throne, and then made a slight gesture, signaling the attendant to withdraw.

Then, he opened his eyes and stared fixedly in the direction where Kim Sin-guk knelt.

Yet, though he looked in that direction, his eyes were utterly clouded; there was no distinction between pupil and white. Instead, they were a murky, muddled flesh-color, a sight that was truly somewhat horrifying.

These eyes were completely sightless. And they had been deliberately blinded by human hands.

The Goryeo sovereign Yi Hon had experienced countless earth-shattering events in his life, had suffered cruelties and inflicted them upon others. These eyes, burned blind by lime, were a testament to the life he had lived.

He had experienced the terror of the princes' bloody struggle for succession, the horror of the Japanese pirate invasions, the thrill of ascending to the great throne and holding the power of life and death, the ruthless resolve to slaughter his own brothers, the agony of being overthrown in a coup and having his eyes burned blind, and, of course, the fortune and bewilderment of being forcibly restored to the throne by the Great Han.

His hair was now mostly gray, and his expression was utterly wooden, which, in a way, complemented those ruined eyes of his. Who could possibly discern the thoughts within his heart from that wooden expression?

"Rise, beloved minister." He waved his hand casually, gesturing for Kim Sin-guk to stand.

Then, without any beating around the bush, he spoke directly.

"I have summoned you here today because Yi Ko has sent word back from the Central Kingdom."