Chapter 1585: The Nagasaki Banquet

He could scarcely imagine himself harboring any jealousy or malice toward his younger brothers, yet he also knew that no one could speak with certainty of the future — sometimes, placed in certain positions, no one is truly master of their own actions. One thing, however, he had firmly resolved: no matter what happened, he would absolutely never take their lives.

"If His Highness the Crown Prince says so, this subject believes it. Though decisive and stern, Your Highness is not without magnanimity and benevolence… surely you would never do such a thing." Li Hun suddenly rose to his feet, then bowed deeply toward the Crown Prince. "Should Your Highness inherit the foundation of the Great Han, I humbly beseech you to become a good emperor, and by no means repeat this subject's errors. If it were truly so, it would be not only a blessing for the Great Han, but also a blessing for the people of my Goryeo — a blessing I could not give them."

Both men understood in their hearts that a good emperor required far more than magnanimity and benevolence alone.

The Crown Prince raised his head and gazed out the window at the shimmering lake and water, and only after a long while did he turn back to look at Li Hun.

"I do not know whether these words of yours are sincere or feigned, but they are pleasing to the ear. I accept them, and I thank you. For these words alone, my opinion of you has slightly improved. I will personally leave an edict ensuring that those people must not reduce your treatment in the slightest. Though you will no longer be able to govern, you may still live out your remaining years in peace."

"This subject thanks Your Highness!" Li Hun bowed deeply once more, now appearing quite practiced in this Han-style ceremonial courtesy.

"Very well, do you have anything else to say?" the Crown Prince asked again.

"Nothing more. Having already imposed upon Your Highness for so long, how could I dare trouble you further?" Li Hun shook his head.

"In that case, you may return." The Crown Prince gestured with his hand, signaling the attendants beside him to help Li Hun away. "Everything I have said will be carried out exactly as stated. Rest assured."

"This subject takes his leave!" Li Hun saluted once more, then slowly turned, supported by the attendants, intending to depart.

"If only you had said these things to me earlier," the Crown Prince suddenly remarked just as Li Hun was about to walk out.

"Had this subject spoken these words earlier, would His Highness the Crown Prince have changed his mind?" Li Hun asked in return.

The Crown Prince fell silent for a moment, and finally shook his head. "Still no. But… I would probably have been somewhat more courteous."

He now felt a subtle, unexpected sympathy for this monarch — perhaps because their positions had previously been somewhat similar. Yet this sliver of sympathy was not nearly enough to sway his calm, practical judgment, and so even after the two had exchanged such words, the Crown Prince felt he would still have chosen to act.

Li Hun suddenly laughed, though whether he was laughing at his own downfall or at the other's frankness was unclear. "It was only at the very end that this subject wanted to find someone to say these things to… Your Highness need not take them to heart."

Then, laughing as he went, he was helped down the stairs by his attendants and made his way back toward his original sleeping quarters. In the days to come, he would continue to live in seclusion there, but he would never again handle affairs of state. From this moment on, Goryeo would have a young successor monarch, and a Retired Emperor residing in Busan.

The Crown Prince sat by the window, watching in silence as Li Hun departed along the stone steps. His retreating figure was so frail and feeble, as if drifting upon the water — perhaps very soon he would truly become a ghost.

He raised his head again and continued to gaze at the surrounding palaces. Perhaps it was a trick of his mind, but he felt that today this place seemed far more bleak and desolate, far more silent.

At this moment, the civil and military officials of the Great Han, who had previously withdrawn to give them privacy, all returned to the room.

"Your Highness, how did it go?" the lead official, Zhao Song, asked.

"Nothing much, we merely spoke of some trifling matters." The Crown Prince shook his head. "He was quite sensible, and did not beg for mercy in the slightest."

"At this stage, it is no longer a matter of whether he begs for mercy or not." Zhao Song smiled faintly. "However, sensible as he may be, Goryeo is still beset with a multitude of complicated affairs. Your Highness will surely need to spend some days handling them. As for this subject, I now have nothing left to do here. I request permission to depart Hanyang in the coming days and proceed to Busan to make preparations…"

"No, in two days, we will go together." The Crown Prince shook his head. "There is no need for me to remain here to handle things further. Ambassador Shi can stay and manage matters together with Councilor Kim. I am not versed in administrative affairs — why should I add to their troubles? Vice Envoy Zhang will accompany us south to Busan, and will be responsible for our communications with the various levels of the Goryeo government at that time."

"Your Highness…?" Zhao Song was somewhat taken aback.

To leave immediately after accomplishing something so monumental — he found that he understood the Crown Prince's thoughts less and less.

"Having done something so great, one should leave early, lest people say I only wish to flaunt my power and authority. It can also be considered a way of avoiding suspicion… Brigade Commander need not worry, no further disturbances will arise here." The Crown Prince slowly rose from his chair, then turned his gaze toward Shi Gaoyi. "Ambassador Shi, I leave this place to you from now on. You must never again conduct yourself as you did in the past — exercise some restraint. Also, inform that Prince Gyeongpyeong and Kim Sin-guk that they had best not defy the Great Han in the near future. Whatever I require, they are to cooperate fully. Otherwise, since I was able to install one, I can naturally install another."

"This subject understands! I will certainly convey this!" Shi Gaoyi felt a slight chill and hurriedly bowed to accept the order.

"Very well, it is about noon now, is it not?" The Crown Prince let out a long breath, then walked to the doorway. "Let us go down and eat. It is rare for everyone to be gathered like this — let us consider it a victory banquet."

And just as the Crown Prince and these civil and military officials began their celebratory feast, a specially encrypted secret letter dispatched from Nagasaki also arrived in Hanyang. The Crown Prince was somewhat surprised that Nagasaki had begun sending official dispatches to him so quickly, but he nonetheless accepted them with pleasure.

Yet the moment he unfolded the letter, his expression became exceedingly strange.

"Your Highness, has something happened in Nagasaki?" Because the matter was related to his own duties, Zhao Song was extremely concerned about the situation in Nagasaki. The instant he saw the Crown Prince's odd expression, he hurriedly set down his chopsticks.

The Crown Prince started as if waking from a dream, then turned to glance around before beckoning Zhao Song over with a wave.

"Brigade Commander, come and take a look at this."

Zhao Song hesitated. For the Crown Prince to act this way clearly indicated that the dispatch must contain matters of the utmost secrecy. For him to rashly go to the Crown Prince's side and read it might be somewhat improper.

"Come." The Crown Prince urged him once more. This time, Zhao Song dared not hesitate any longer. Under the puzzled gazes of everyone else in the hall, he walked to the Crown Prince's seat and took the dispatch from his hand.

"This… so quickly?" After reading the contents of the dispatch, he too was stunned.

"Ambassador Shi, Vice Envoy Zhang, the two of you come with me." The Crown Prince stopped eating, then instructed Zhao Song and the two civil officials to follow him to an adjacent room. "Everyone else, continue your meal."

Once inside the room, the Crown Prince handed the dispatch to them as well.

"The Japanese Imperial Court actually took the initiative to send someone to our trading post?" The two men were just as shocked as he had been.

"This shows how deeply the Shogunate has lost the people's hearts." Zhao Song gave a cold laugh, then looked toward the Crown Prince. "Your Highness, this is tremendously good news for us! Even if we cannot bring the Japanese Imperial Court over to our side, this incident alone proves that the other side is not united, which greatly benefits our upcoming military operations!"

"This was also to be expected. The Shogunate has been encroaching upon the Imperial Court's authority for many years — it would be strange if they bore no resentment. It is only the speed of it that is surprising." The Crown Prince nodded, having already regained his composure. "This matter is of immense importance. This dispatch must be forwarded to the capital immediately."

"That is only proper." Shi Gaoyi promptly concurred. "However… Your Highness, the letter states that the envoy carrying the personal letter from the Japanese Cloistered Emperor wishes to travel to the capital to pay homage to the Son of Heaven. How should we handle that?"

"The state letter must certainly be delivered. Whether the person himself is sent along requires some thought, for Father the Emperor's sacred will regarding how to deal with the Japanese Imperial Court is not yet clear." The Crown Prince pondered briefly, then swiftly made a decision. "Have him come here first. I can take the opportunity to question him about the situation in Japan. Once a reply comes from the capital, we can then decide whether to send him on to the capital."

Then, he turned to Shi Gaoyi again. "Regimental Commander Shi, write a reply to Nagasaki. Inform them of my decision and have them send this envoy to Busan as quickly as possible. Also, add a few words of encouragement — they have done very well."

"Yes!" Shi Gaoyi immediately bowed and accepted the order.

……………………

At this moment, Zhou Pu and Liu Jing, who were in Nagasaki, naturally had no idea that they had already been commended by His Highness the Crown Prince. In fact, ever since sending their report to the Crown Prince, they had been meeting daily with that envoy from Kyoto, familiarizing themselves with all manner of information concerning the Japanese Imperial Court.

However, it was limited strictly to matters within the Imperial Court. This envoy, Hashimoto Sanemura, hailed from a minor branch of the Fujiwara clan. In the already impoverished kuge families, he naturally held no significant standing whatsoever. Moreover, the Tokugawa house deliberately kept the kuge isolated from the governance of the state, so his sphere of activity and social circle were both extremely narrow. Beyond some information about the Imperial Court, he could provide virtually no useful intelligence about many other parts of Japan.

From this man, Zhou Pu could more or less discern certain characteristics of those Kyoto kuge — and even of the Emperor himself. They placed immense emphasis on refinement and elegance; every word and deed was laden with elaborate ritual, ever fearful of doing anything that might damage their image. Furthermore, due to generations of hereditary tradition, their cultural attainments were very high. This Hashimoto Sanemura, for instance, could produce calligraphy in Chinese characters so fine that even Zhou Pu, who had studied for several years at a private academy and attempted the imperial examinations, felt ashamed of his own inferior skill.

In addition, perhaps because they had been sidelined for centuries and perpetually barred from actual governance, they were generally quite politically naive. For example, this envoy, and the very man who had sent him — the Udaijin Nijō Yasumichi — were both utterly convinced that the Shogunate was on the verge of collapse. They believed that if only they could secure military support from the Great Han, they could use the Imperial Court's decrees to declare the Shogunate enemies of the throne and then destroy its rule. Moreover, without the slightest consideration for practical realities, they clung to the wishful belief that if they could borrow troops to overthrow the Shogunate, they themselves — people with no practical experience whatsoever — could restore their ancestors' ancient rule over the nation.

Of course, in Zhou Pu's view, the more inexperienced and naive they were, the better it was for his own side at present.

In the plans of the Emperor, the Grand Secretariat, and even Zhou Pu himself, the Shogunate's authority would certainly be greatly weakened after the war, and the Japanese Imperial Court's status would be elevated. But regardless of the specific measures taken, none of them wished to see the Japanese Imperial Court emerge as the sole dominant power after the war. And the more naive the kuge were, the more they could exploit this to diminish their future influence, thereby forging a roughly balanced configuration of powers in Japan.

Not long before, Zhou Pu had, through this envoy, sent a letter to Nijō Yasumichi in Kyoto. The wording was extremely veiled and did not indicate in any way that the Great Han was preparing to send troops to Japan; it merely sought to establish a line of communication with Kyoto. He was confident that a reply from Kyoto would arrive before long.

What now concerned them was another matter. Just moments ago, the Nagasaki Bugyō, Takenaka Shigeyoshi, had sent a letter to the Nagasaki trading post, stating that he would be hosting a banquet at his official residence in the coming days and inviting the trading post's special envoy to attend.

The moment this letter arrived, Liu Jing immediately rushed over to discuss it with Zhou Pu. As the Great Han's highest-ranking representative in Nagasaki, Liu Jing had been invited by this high Shogunate official many times over the past few years. But now the circumstances were somewhat different, and they needed to think this through carefully.

He was not worried that this was a trap. Nagasaki was currently the Shogunate's territory; if the Shogunate had truly uncovered their covert activities, there would be no need to politely send a letter — they would simply dispatch troops to surround the place.

What truly worried him was the possibility that someone on their side might have inadvertently revealed some clue that aroused the Shogunate's suspicions. He therefore wanted to discuss it with Zhou Pu so that, if such were indeed the case, they could prepare an explanation in advance.

After a lengthy discussion, they concluded that the most likely source of any problem was this envoy from Kyoto. Although the Shogunate's surveillance of the Great Han trading post was not particularly strict, the man had traveled a long way and was someone with little experience — he might well have left traces along the road.

"This man is of vital importance to us. We must find a way to protect him at all costs." After thinking for a long while, Zhou Pu stated his conclusion. "Furthermore, His Highness the Crown Prince has already been notified, and soon the capital will know as well. If the time comes for them to demand the man and we are unable to produce him, that will mean serious trouble…"

"You are right, my lord," Liu Jing immediately agreed with Zhou Pu's opinion. "This humble official believes that since they did not directly send men to arrest anyone, the shogunate likely cannot have much information either. If he asks later, I shall simply plead complete ignorance and wash my hands of the matter entirely."

"Yes, that is exactly what we must do," Zhou Pu nodded. "Also, I feel that keeping him in the trading house all this time is not a good solution. We should move him somewhere else for a while and hide him. Do you, my lord, have any particularly reliable place we can use?"

"I do," Liu Jing hastily replied. "This humble official has always been responsible for trade between the two nations, and over the years I have made many friends among the merchants. There are a few particularly reliable candidates whom I can entrust. We can hide him with them for now."

"Merchants... can they be trusted?" Zhou Pu hesitated.

"These few men are not purely merchants," Liu Jing suddenly became evasive. "In any case, my lord, simply trust that they are absolutely reliable. This humble official would never joke with his own life and future..."

Watching the other man's somewhat mysterious expression, Zhou Pu suddenly seemed to understand something. "Very well. Since you say so, my lord, I am reassured."

Liu Jing was simultaneously under the jurisdiction of the Foreign Affairs Bureau and the Commerce Department, and the Commerce Department was one of the most powerful and well-resourced offices in the Great Han administration. When he had still been in the capital, he had heard that besides its directly subordinate merchant ships, the Commerce Department also secretly operated some trading vessels for commercial dealings, from which it derived enormous profits. As fellow officials, it was best not to ask about such matters if one could avoid it.

After the two discussed their next steps a while longer, Liu Jing took his attendants and followed the men sent by the Nagasaki Magistrate Takenaka Shigeyoshi to the government office where the Nagasaki Magistrate's Office was stationed.

The Nagasaki Magistrate's office was located in Hon-Hakata-machi within Nagasaki Castle. Because Nagasaki was now Japan's largest commercial port, with flourishing trade, and because it needed to reflect the shogunate's authority in the region, it had been built on a very grand scale. At the same time, due to Western and Chinese influence, the lines of this building were somewhat different from typical Japanese architecture.

Since he had been here many times, the guards let Liu Jing pass without obstruction. Guided by his attendants there, he ascended alone to the small tower within the office where banquets were often held.

As soon as Liu Jing entered, he discovered that many people had already arrived. Besides numerous officials from within Nagasaki Castle, there were even many foreign merchants, such as Portuguese and Dutchmen. This scale could not possibly be what he had feared—a gathering to denounce him. It was certainly a large banquet.

Yet from his previous experience, whenever the Magistrate himself hosted a large banquet in Nagasaki, notice was generally given several days in advance. First, to allow everyone to prepare so as not to cause the shogunate to lose face; second, to allow merchants like himself time to prepare gifts.

Indeed, Takenaka Shigeyoshi, the Nagasaki Magistrate—the shogunate's highest official in Kyushu and the man who held authority over Japan's foreign trade—was an insatiably greedy fellow. Leveraging the favor he enjoyed with the shogun, he used his power to repeatedly extract benefits from the foreign merchants of Nagasaki, earning himself a terrible reputation within their circles. Even Liu Jing, who held an official position, had been compelled to send him gifts on several occasions to facilitate his business.

Today, however, was different—the invitation to the banquet had been issued that very day. When Liu Jing first received the invitation, this anomaly had left him deeply uneasy. Now, seeing the same bewilderment on the faces of the other merchants, it appeared this was not directed at him personally.

With a sense of relief quietly welling up inside him, Liu Jing walked briskly through the hall, greeting acquaintances from time to time, before arriving at the seat assigned to him and kneeling down behind it.

When he had first come to Japan, he had been thoroughly unaccustomed to kneeling for long periods as the Japanese did, and every banquet left him sore for half the day. Now, however, after several years of experience, he had grown quite used to it. The expressions of pure misery on those Westerners' faces, on the other hand, struck him as rather amusing.