The Minister of War, and the Chancellor
The shockwaves stirred by Jin Mugwang's death were not small.
Speculation ran rampant about the incident in which the victorious general took his own life while returning home.
A rumor that the Black Blades had killed him spread soundlessly, yet the Sword Pavilion kept its mouth shut.
It had happened while he was on his way home after receiving an immense stipend and fief.
Even though it was difficult to point to flaws within the inner structure of power, the officials first thought of assassination.
Such things were not unheard of.
And merely being plausible was enough for the story to be received as fact.
On the street before the Imperial Palace, where government offices stood clustered, the murmuring never ceased.
People gathered in small knots, whispering about what was true and what the cause had been.
Why had he not returned to his hometown?
From the standpoint of a salaried official, the reason a man could not return was simple.
It was family.
If the ancestral home where one's family lived would be threatened, then one could not go back.
Anyone who lived within officialdom could agree and accept that reason.
The victorious general had been granted stipend and fief, so he ought to have made a triumphal return.
Yet he could not even enter the palace.
He pitched a military camp before the capital, resigned after only two days, and returned home.
The common people saw it differently.
They had seen the triumphal general on the great road, and they had kept the overwhelming sensation of his martial presence intact.
In particular, the divine might of Lee Hui—who had stood at the front, smashing and drilling the local troops—was greatly inflated in their telling.
His resignation turned at once into fear of the barbarians who would descend the next winter.
If Gatheukrip alone survived and returns again this winter, what are we to do?
The damage of war is passed to the people.
Jin Mugwang was being revered by the people to the point of being called a War God.
The two hundred-odd riders of the White Dragon Corps and the Grand General in black, returning after crushing the barbarians, had settled in the public mind as a solid pillar of protection.
Meanwhile, the Emperor felt relief.
There was no sign of rebellion.
The Emperor, who had regarded him as a latent threat, could not suppress the laughter that rose from within at the news that he had died alone.
Outwardly he mourned.
He even added gifts and more land, ordering that the bereaved family be comforted.
Yet inwardly he rejoiced.
One lump of worry had vanished, that was all.
If the barbarians came down again, he could simply appoint another general and send him.
They might ravage the land through the winter, but in the end they always went back.
Once the frozen river thawed, they had no road home.
If it was something to be endured only for a fixed span of time—
and if it was not the Emperor himself who would be made to endure it—
then he could accept it well enough.
The Chancellor could not.
There was no substitute.
Nothing gnaws at a man's mind like the absence of a strategic alternative.
The Emperor had already scattered even the Northern Expeditionary Army that had been guarding the Haran frontier.
They had reached as far as Taiyuan last winter.
Next would be the capital—this very place.
The Chancellor searched for other options, but there were no outstanding generals.
That is what organizations do.
It is stupidity.
People like to think the organization carries things forward no matter who changes, yet what continues is only a procession of fools.
The Chancellor understood better than anyone the role of a truly exceptional commander.
The Minister of War, Lee Taewon, met the Chancellor at the Ministry of War halfway down Vermilion Bird Avenue.
"Chancellor!
How could matters come to this?"
"What matters?"
"To let the victorious general die when you could not even honor him—
is that how things ought to be?"
Lee Taewon was furious.
"Do you take me for a man with the power to prevent suicide as well?"
"That is not what I mean."
"It sounds exactly like what you mean."
"No matter how distasteful he was to you, for the sake of the future you should have let such a man remain."
"And what, exactly, did I do, that you come at me in a rage from the morning?
Do you remember that you did not even go out when he returned to the capital?"
"That was… that was because my old mother at home was ill…"
The Minister of War mumbled.
"The atmosphere was what it was, so I went out in my private capacity and praised his merit.
The memorial of resignation was his.
He was so stubborn that I had no choice but to accept it and bring it back.
His Majesty immediately affixed his sign manual…
and even stamped the Imperial Seal upon it."
While Lee Taewon hesitated, the Chancellor stepped in close.
"The reason I came is to tell you to prepare an alternative.
Prepare an alternative.
Everything has been ruined this time.
One would not think they will come again, but Gatheukrip lives.
How can it be that in all Han there is only that one general?
Prepare an alternative and submit it.
Do you understand?
I cannot wait long."
The Chancellor's words were near coercion.
Though there was no alternative, he demanded that another commander be produced.
Lee Taewon shouted as if in a spasm of resistance.
"Did we not kill them all?
Did we not kill everyone who could have been called an alternative?"
The Chancellor's mouth twisted slyly.
It was hidden behind his pale beard, but the Minister of War knew what lay behind that smile.
A reeking scent of plots and scheming rose.
"Then may I seek another alternative?
Or may I seek someone who can find another alternative?"
His tone was gentle, yet the threat was plain.
He meant he would find another Minister of War and make that man produce an alternative.
The Minister lowered his head and sighed deeply.
Yes.
If he did not do it, they could always search for another Minister of War.
He had vowed more than once that he would stop this work someday, yet he could not bring himself to do it.
He thought it must be because of that threat.
Words rose to his throat—Fine. Do whatever you want.
Yet none came out as speech.
Who wished to be cut down?
"Understood.
I will find one.
I will find an alternative.
But this time, please do not kill the alternative as well.
Yes?"
He forced out the last line as a final scrap of pride, wanting to point clearly at the Chancellor's fault.
An uneasy silence followed.
The Chancellor looked at him as though he were pitiable, then turned his head and said one sentence.
"To be outstanding is a crime.
In times like these, who asked anyone to be outstanding?"
The Chancellor believed threats like this worked best on the blunt men of the Ministry of War.
He thought they were a breed that could not be moved by words.
"Public sentiment, 民心, is not good, Chancellor…"
"And what of it?
If public sentiment is not good… what will they do?
When have I ever governed by watching the mood of the people?
I have endured for more than twenty years with nothing but loyalty to the state.
Find one.
And bring him to me.
There is not much time."
The Chancellor did not remain long in the Ministry.
He had only stopped by briefly before going to court, yet what they spoke contained all the truths of the world.
Produce another man, and if you cannot, I will replace you and make someone else produce him—so do not argue, and do as you are told.
That was the meaning.
The Ministry of War had been scorched to the ground.
What the Chancellor feared was the capital.
The capital must not be threatened.
Let every other place be trampled under barbarian hooves—if only the capital remained intact, it would suffice.
The capital would not fall—yet if it were attacked, catastrophe could follow.
He believed the frail pillar of power could collapse.
If the capital were attacked, the Emperor—already weak, his mind nearly in a stupor—might deteriorate further, and no one could know what he might do.
The Chancellor wished to avoid, above all, any direct assault upon the capital.
The capital was the root ground of their power.