The Kingdom of Joseon expresses its deepest condolences regarding the unfortunate incident in Primorye. Should it be necessary, we are willing to bear the medical expenses of the wounded. However, based on our thorough investigation, the cause of this event lies in the clearly threatening maneuvers of Qing cavalry. Therefore, we inform you that the punishment of the field commander is not possible.
Upon receiving a personal letter written in the hand of His Majesty the King of Joseon,the Xianfeng Emperor trembled with rage, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
Was this truly a letter addressed to the Son of Heaven, the ruler of all under Heaven, the apex of the Middle Kingdom?
This crude, unrefined scrap of writing?
It was nothing less than an insult—a direct provocation against the Qing Empire.
A declaration, thinly veiled, denying the very foundation of the tributary order.
"Your Imperial Majesty! This arrogance of Joseon must never be tolerated!"
"If Joseon breaks away, the consequences will be beyond imagination!"
"But how are we to restrain them? Are we truly to march against Joseon?"
Not only His Imperial Majesty, but even the Grand Council was thrown into confusion.
Debate raged endlessly—whether it was feasible, whether it was not—yet no decisive conclusion could be reached.
At times like this, there was only one man he could rely on.
"Tell me, what is your judgment? If we strike Joseon with the forces assembled in Manchuria, will it be effective?"
His Imperial Highness Prince Gong answered calmly.
"Our military situation is far from ideal, but Joseon is not much better. However, the matter we must truly be wary of is not Joseon… but Britain."
"Britain…? Hm. Indeed… Joseon must be acting with confidence in British backing. But did not the British envoy say this was a matter to be resolved between the two nations?"
"That is correct. But that statement presumes a diplomatic resolution. If we move militarily against Joseon, the situation becomes far more complicated. Joseon is currently fighting Russia in alignment with Britain."
Since when had the Qing Empire needed to consider the reaction of a foreign power when disciplining a tributary state?
It was absurd.
And yet—His Imperial Majesty was no fool.
He understood reality better than anyone.
"…Then what of a show of force? Would that not suffice?"
"A crossing of the Yalu to intimidate them… then a withdrawal?"
Prince Gong shook his head slightly.
"In ordinary times, that might work. But now… such a half-measure may instead embolden Joseon. They may conclude that this is the extent of our resolve."
A convincing argument.
Yet inaction was no longer an option.
A blade once drawn must cut something.
After a long silence, His Imperial Majesty the Xianfeng Emperor closed his eyes—and made his decision.
"Cross the Yalu River. Advance the army."
"We shall force Joseon's submission."
"…And Britain?"
"Joseon is a dependency of the Qing. This is an internal matter—not a war between sovereign states. Inform them they have no grounds to intervene."
It was a dangerous claim.
But within Qing logic, it was sound.
The problem was—
the British Empire had already decided to turn its full attention toward Asia.
* * *
The Eight Banners Army, bearing the command of the Son of Heaven, crossed the Yalu with confidence.
Though lacking real combat experience, they believed Joseon to be weak—a nation once crushed beneath their hooves.
A swift strike, and surrender would follow.
At least—that was the plan.
But what awaited them at the border was not what they expected.
Bang! Tatatat!
"Enemy fire!"
"AAARGH!"
"Wh-what is this?! An ambush?!"
The storm of bullets from afar—
the thunder of exploding shells—
This was no Joseon force.
"Retreat! Retreat!"
Within moments, dozens fell.
The Eight Banners troops turned their horses in panic, their advance collapsing in an instant.
Back in Hanseong—
***
"Your Majesty! The Qing forces that crossed the border have been repelled!"
the King of Joseon finally exhaled.
"So… they truly came."
"It was wise to request assistance from Shanghai in advance."
"…Britain claimed neutrality, did they not? Will this not cause problems later?"
"That is not for us to worry about."
Indeed—for a great power, words could always be reversed.
Soon after—
"Your Majesty! Urgent dispatch from Shanghai!"
"What is it?"
"Britain requests that both sides send representatives. They intend to hear the matter directly."
"…That is standard procedure. Why such panic?"
The answer came as he read further.
"…In Hong Kong… under the authority of… Admiral Girian…?"
"Yes, Your Majesty! Admiral Girian has arrived in Hong Kong commanding the fleet!"
The King rose to his feet.
"At once—we convene the royal council."
At last—
someone with real authority had arrived in Asia.
* * *
"And the situation?"
"Qing crossed into Joseon territory—and were repelled by our supporting forces."
His Royal Highness Prince Consort Killian Gore Hanover, acting in the name of Her Britannic Majesty, listened as he absorbed every detail.
"We sent reinforcements?"
"Only a token force. Qing morale collapsed after minor losses."
"…And Qing's response?"
"They are protesting. Claiming we broke neutrality."
Killian smirked faintly.
Neutrality?
When had he ever promised that?
"Have Joseon's representatives arrived?"
"Soon. Qing's envoy is already here—Governor-General Xu Guangjin."
"Busy man. Dealing with the Taiping Rebellion, and now this."
"Shall we wait?"
"No. Let us speak with him first."
Moments later, Governor-General Xu Guangjin entered.
Killian greeted him calmly.
"As representative of Her Majesty, I intend to resolve this matter. I would hear your position."
"…We have grounds to protest. British troops fired upon our forces."
"So I've heard."
"You claimed this was a matter between Qing and Joseon—yet you intervened—"
Killian raised a hand.
"A misunderstanding."
He took a slow sip of tea.
"We dispatched troops to guard against a possible Russian incursion into Joseon."
"Then why were they at the Yalu?!"
"Unfortunate timing. Your forces engaged ours while we were en route."
"That is—!"
"Surely you understand. Russia is the only power with reason to attack our ally Joseon."
A trap.
A perfectly laid one.
"…But this is between Qing and Joseon—"
"Yes. And yet… I find I am not entirely separate from Joseon in this matter."
"…What?"
Killian smiled faintly.
"Do you know my full name?"
The governor hesitated, then wrote it out.
"Killian Gore Hanover… Your Royal Highness…"
"Not quite."
He leaned back.
"Killian Gore Lee Hanover."
Silence.
"In Europe, I am Killian Gore Hanover."
"In Joseon—Killian Gore Lee Hanover."
"In Japan—Killian Gore Tokugawa Hanover."
Then, lightly—
"Shall we continue this discussion… not merely as Britain, but as a member of the Joseon royal house?"
The governor froze.
Killian's smile widened.
"Europe's Killian is neutral."
"But Joseon's Girian… has quite a lot to say."
The teacup trembled in Xu Guangjin's hand.
He looked as though he might cry.
And this—
was only the beginning.