There are, broadly speaking, two kinds of people.
Those who learn from their mistakes—and those who, even after failing, insist they were never wrong and repeat the same actions all over again.
It is often said that nations on the brink of collapse fall into the latter category.
If not the Qing Empire as a whole, then at the very least, the Manchu forces clearly belonged to it.
"What did you say? Joseon troops attacked us?"
"Yes, sir!"
"But why would Joseon do that? No—before that, what are they even doing in Primorye? Don't tell me they've invaded Russia as well?"
"That appears to be the case, sir. From what we've gathered, Joseon forces have joined hands with the Japanese and are planting their flags across Primorye."
What kind of absurd situation was this?
The Qing commanders tasked with leading the invasion of Primorye could not make sense of it at all.
"Even if Joseon troops are there—why would they attack us?"
"We don't know, sir. They just opened fire on us."
Strictly speaking, it was the Qing cavalry that had charged recklessly in the middle of the night—but admitting that would make it their fault.
Joseon artillery had left five men severely wounded and two dead.
Casualties—in what was supposed to be a simple operation of crushing defenseless stragglers and claiming easy merit.
If such a report reached the Imperial Court, they would be branded incompetent.
The commander, who had expected to return to Beijing in glory, felt his face darken.
If he wanted to salvage this situation, there was only one way.
This had to be Joseon's fault. Entirely.
"Are you absolutely certain? They really opened fire without warning?"
"Y-Yes, sir. We approached cautiously, intending to talk—but they suddenly fired their cannons."
"Those lunatics… Have they finally started looking down on us as well?"
"W-What should we do, sir?"
"What do you mean, what do we do? We demand an apology immediately! And report it to the Imperial Court exactly as it is!"
Thus, everything was reframed as an unprovoked act of madness by Joseon, and the Manchu forces bore no responsibility whatsoever.
When they boldly demanded an apology—
It was the Joseon–Japanese camp that was left dumbfounded.
"What the hell is wrong with them? They're demanding a formal apology and punishment for those responsible."
"What? Not that they will punish someone—but that we should?"
"Yes. They say if we don't apologize immediately, they will take further measures."
General Lee Beom-gyu, commander of the Joseon forces ordered to occupy Primorye near the Tumen River, could only stare in disbelief.
What were they supposed to do—just stand there and get slaughtered by armed troops charging at them in the night?
If Joseon had crossed into Qing territory and done this, that would be one thing—but this land belonged to neither Qing nor Joseon.
"General, this isn't even worth listening to. It's nonsense."
"Obviously. What is the Shogunate's position?"
Commander Toyama of the Japanese forces, who had been coordinating operations, scoffed.
"It seems the Qing still think they're something special. We've done nothing wrong—just ignore them like barking dogs."
"As expected."
"Of course. And what exactly do they plan to do? Declare war on Joseon or us?"
Joseon and the Shogunate were, after all, allies of the British Empire.
What exactly did the Qing think they could do?
With no reason to take a submissive stance, Joseon and Japan drew a firm line.
In essence:
Stop talking nonsense and get lost.
The Manchu forces had never imagined such a response.
Having remained confined to Manchuria, they knew the Qing had suffered defeats—but had never truly felt it.
To them, the Qing Empire was still the center of the world.
Joseon and Japan were supposed to crawl at their feet.
And now this?
"Have they lost their minds?"
"Primorye was once the territory of our Great Qing! And now they dare invade it and accuse us instead?"
Their attempt to shift all blame onto Joseon and Japan had failed completely.
If this reached the Imperial Court, they would not only be blamed for casualties—but also for being humiliated.
Utter incompetence.
There was only one way left to turn the situation around.
"Joseon and Japan conspired together to attack us. They intend to seize Primorye from Russia and divide it between them. That is what we will report."
"Pardon?"
"We must make it clear that this was not our mistake. We were caught in their treacherous scheme and suffered unexpected losses."
"I understand!"
To Joseon, it would sound like the most outrageous slander imaginable.
But what could one do?
In this world, the most important thing was self-preservation.
Others could always be sacrificed for that.
Thus, a fabricated report—claiming that Joseon and Japan intended to swallow Primorye whole—was sent at full speed to Beijing.
Upon hearing it, the Xianfeng Emperor and His Prince Gong could only clutch their heads.
"Joseon launched a preemptive strike against our forces?"
"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. In coordination with Japanese troops, they are attempting to drive our forces out of Primorye."
"…Joseon would have no reason to do such a thing unless they've lost their minds."
"Your Imperial Majesty, what else could explain it? They must believe they have the backing of Britain—Yingjili—and have grown arrogant."
Joseon's drift away from the Sinocentric order was no small matter.
Though a small state compared to the Qing, Joseon held immense symbolic value.
It recognized the Emperor as the Son of Heaven and paid regular tribute.
Its strength and culture reinforced the legitimacy of the imperial order.
If even Joseon broke away—
The entire system could begin to crumble.
"If Joseon seizes Primorye while excluding us—what then?"
"By itself, Joseon lacks the capacity to fully absorb such territory."
"But if they divide it with Britain or the Shogunate?"
"…It may not be impossible."
The situation grew grave.
The Xianfeng Emperor turned to his more capable younger brother.
"What do you think? Should we let Joseon be?"
"Your Imperial Majesty, if Joseon's defection is left unchecked, other tributary states may follow. At that point, the Taiping Rebellion will be the least of our concerns."
"…Indeed."
"We must first dispatch an envoy and determine the truth. If Joseon has truly chosen to abandon us for Britain, then this is a matter that demands the full weight of the Empire."
A hammer was needed.
A great and terrible hammer—to crush the heads of those who refused to listen.
Even if the Qing had become meek before the Western powers, there remained a line they could not retreat from.
"Suppress the Taiping rebels with the forces in the south. Gather troops in the northeast and strike Primorye. We will show them the will of the Empire."
"Your Imperial Majesty! That would open a second front!"
"It cannot be helped. If we yield here, what will the tributary states think? We must act decisively. And send word to the British ambassador—Joseon remains a vassal of the Qing. That fact must be made clear."
Thus, the Qing Empire chose escalation.
A choice that, in truth, it could not avoid.
Misunderstandings. Clashes. Pride. International tensions.
All combined—
Until the situation spiraled completely out of control.
And at last, the Qing issued an ultimatum to Joseon and the Shogunate—
And began marching its northeastern forces into Primorye.
* * *
War, once ignited, rarely dies down easily.
And when multiple nations are entangled—
It becomes a storm of madness.
Unlike a simple game of chess,
Even when one side loses all its pieces, it simply borrows more from elsewhere.
Everything is thrown onto the table—land, wealth, the fate of the nation itself.
War was a drug that numbed reason.
Perhaps worse than any drug.
I had briefly wondered if Russia might surrender quickly once Prussia and Austria entered the war.
But of course—
That was wishful thinking.
Tsar Nicholas I declared total defense,
fortifying Saint Petersburg and Crimea.
If he would not win—
Then he would drag everyone down with him.
Russia's economy was collapsing in real time.
Its people screamed in suffering.
And yet—
Russia endured.
As for me, I boarded a warship alongside Admiral Parker,
cruising leisurely from coast to coast—
bombarding ports,
encouraging the troops.
Boom! Boom!
"Magnificent, Your Highness, is it not?"
"Another Russian port erased from the map. Splendid."
With the tempo slowed and Russia slowly strangled—
I finally had the luxury to look elsewhere.
America.
Mexico.
And now—
This absurd three-way chaos in Northeast Asia.
Back at the Gallipoli base, connected by telegraph,
I reviewed reports—
And handled mounting diplomatic issues.
Among them, one stood out above all:
The Qing Empire.
"They've sent over five thousand troops to Primorye?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Russia is also reinforcing the region."
"…What exactly are they trying to accomplish?"
"Beijing has also requested a formal response. They insist Joseon is a vassal of the Qing—and expect us to acknowledge it."
Convenient.
When it suited them, Joseon was autonomous.
Now, it was a vassal again.
But then again—
States always changed their words to suit their interests.
That wasn't the problem.
The problem was expecting us to play along.
"That is not our concern. It is a matter between Qing and Joseon. Inform them that the British Empire will not interfere."
"Yes, Your Highness. But… will we truly remain uninvolved?"
I smiled faintly,
placing pieces on the map—
Russia.
Qing.
Japan.
Joseon.
And finally—
The British Empire.
"Of course not."
"We'll devour everything."
As a representative of the British Empire, I would not intervene.
But as a royal relative of Joseon—
I had every right to meddle.
What, no justification?
Then I'll simply make one.