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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Great King Namsaeng
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"So, I'm definitely Yeon Namsaeng, right?"
The man who received the question openly showed a bewildered expression. But he answered right away.
"Yes, that's correct. You're the eldest son of Eastern Division Leader Yeon Gaesomun."
"Twenty years old."
"Yes."
"What year is it now?"
The odd question left the man visibly puzzled. Fortunately, he could excuse all sorts of inquiries by claiming a head injury.
The pitiful fellow was none other than Seon Do-hae—the very man who would later tell Kim Chun-chu the tale of the rabbit and the turtle, helping him escape Goguryeo.
I'd assumed a strategist like him would be sly, but contrary to my expectations, he had the warm, neighborly vibe of a friendly uncle.
He looked young too, probably in his late twenties. He was the advisor my father had assigned to me. When summoned, he'd shown up in flowing white robes with a tall black-feathered hat. Seeing a figure straight out of the history books in the flesh was truly surreal. Lost in such thoughts, I reached out, grabbed a dried jujube, and crunched it between my teeth. Seon Do-hae spoke up.
"So, you're asking what year it is now?"
"Yeah, ever since I fell off that horse, my head's been all jumbled up."
That was the trickiest part, honestly. History lessons usually went by the Gregorian calendar, but Seon Do-hae or any Goguryeo folk wouldn't know when Jesus was born. Luckily, the sharp-minded Seon Do-hae found an answer.
"It's been twenty years since we crushed the Sui army at the Battle of Salsu. You were born right that year."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Hold on. If the Battle of Salsu was twenty years ago..."
I glanced at Seon Do-hae and did some quick mental math.
'Around 632 AD. Yeon Gaesomun's coup is in 642, and the first war with Tang is 645.'
"Roughly ten years left,"
I muttered without thinking and checked Seon Do-hae's reaction. Fortunately, he seemed lost in his own thoughts and let it slide. He spoke cautiously.
"Please eat well and get plenty of rest."
"I'm eating great and sleeping like a baby."
A day after waking up, I'd astonishingly accepted this reality with ease. Probably thanks to my status as Yeon Gaesomun's eldest son. Nothing was lacking. I slept on a plush bed piled with soft blankets, and hot rice came with side dishes free of MSG. Snacks arrived whenever I got peckish. It was like going from rags to riches overnight.
'I don't even miss my smartphone.'
No longing for games or anything else. Plus, this body—ten years younger—was in peak shape; a quick peek revealed even a six-pack. But the best part was...
"I'm married."
The woman who'd introduced herself as my wife was stunningly beautiful.
"I thought she was some celebrity."
Seon Do-hae stammered again but didn't press. I shut my mouth to avoid sounding weirder with more nonsense and asked what I was really curious about.
"Why did everyone oppose my father becoming Eastern Division Leader?"
"It wasn't because he's your father—it was because he's from the Yeon clan."
"They opposed our family, not just Father?"
True to his role as a history-book strategist, he explained precisely.
"Unlike other clans, the Yeon family skyrocketed starting from your great-grandfather's generation. The other clans, established since the time of Chumo Great King, wouldn't take kindly to that."
"We came out of nowhere, huh?"
"What do you mean by that?"
This time, he asked outright, and something bizarre happened. Seon Do-hae's gaze changed as he looked at me. His entire pupil turned blood-red, like he'd become a demon. Startled, I clutched the blanket and yelled.
"Argh!"
The scream brought the door flying open. Armored guards with weapons rushed in at full speed.
"No! It's fine!"
At my shout, the guards quietly shut the door. By then, Seon Do-hae's eyes had returned to normal.
"Sorry, it just happens sometimes. Where were we?"
"Up to why they hate the Eastern Division."
"They're jealous of the new kid on the block."
"Until just forty-odd years ago, the nobles held strong power, fighting over positions generation after generation. The Great King had to seal the palace gates."
"Why?"
"He had to wait for the fights to end."
"He couldn't stop the nobles from rampaging. How did it quiet down?"
"It calmed during the previous reign, but the Sui invasion was decisive."
"They united against a big external enemy. But tensions simmer beneath the surface."
Seon Do-hae looked impressed as he listened.
"Exactly. In principle, when succeeding as a Division Leader, not only the Great King but the other leaders must approve."
"But they didn't for our father?"
Seon Do-hae looked deeply aggrieved.
"Yes. Approval is usually just a formality. How could outsiders interfere in a clan choosing its leader?"
"Whose idea was it?"
"Pardon?"
I'd slipped into English without thinking. Mentally scolding myself, I rephrased.
"If it wasn't done before, it means it came from someone's head—like an advisor like you."
Seon Do-hae looked impressed again. But to me, who'd written historical novels before possession, it was simple.
"Actually..."
After a pause, Seon Do-hae whispered lowly.
"It seems like Elder Yeon Jeong-du's scheme."
"From our family?"
"Yes, your uncle."
Hearing that brought Iri Geoseosa from the Japanese chronicles to mind—the man killed alongside Yeongnyu King during Yeon Gaesomun's coup. It mentioned he was Yeon Gaesomun's kin, which fit roughly.
"He's Father's brother, so why didn't he become leader?"
It was an obvious question, but necessary to grasp the situation quickly. Seon Do-hae answered readily.
"His mother's status was too low. Naturally, Elder Yeon Jeong-du couldn't accept it."
Coming from an era without class systems, I understood. But Seon Do-hae seemed not to. I changed the subject.
"The Tang emperor now is Li Shimin, right?"
Seon Do-hae jumped in shock.
"You can't just call the emperor by name!"
Knowing what the so-called Tang Taizong had done, I snapped back curtly.
"I can't exactly call him 'Your Majesty' either."
"The court is already troubled by Tang issues. Be especially careful with your words."
"Got it."
Silla and Baekje were probably clashing, but I didn't ask. Instead, I queried something I'd wondered since possessing Yeon Namsaeng.
"How are my younger brothers?"
"In what way?"
"Be honest. I haven't thought much about it before, but I need to start now."
Seon Do-hae brightened, taking it as a sign I'd come to my senses.
"That's a great mindset."
"Exactly. Lying here, I realized we can't keep things awkward."
I inferred from history that the brothers rebelled against their elder brother. But Seon Do-hae grew suspicious.
"You didn't even know who you were—how do you know about your brothers?"
Cursing inwardly, I bluffed.
"Suyeong told me."
He accepted it and moved on.
"It's not too late now."
"Yeah, the moment you think it's late is when to act fastest. They both dislike me a bit?"
"To be frank."
Seon Do-hae paused again and leaned closer.
"There's no reason for them to like you."
"Why?"
"For one, you've been cold to the Master, and the Leader doesn't fully trust them."
"Because of me, they can't get Father's love?"
"Unlike Elder Yeon Jeong-du, their mothers come from respectable houses."
"So, their mothers differ from mine."
"Yes. Lady Suyeong and the Master's mother are the same."
He looked like I was asking the strangest things, but I played dumb.
"That's why Suyeong treats me warmly."
"She's followed you closely since childhood. And she'll be especially grateful this time."
"Why?"
"You resolved the marriage issue."
"What? Tell me more."
"The royal marriage. The Leader originally planned to send Lady Suyeong."
"To whom? Ah! To the son of Sun King, the Great King's brother."
I recalled that man would become Goguryeo's last king, Bojang King. Seon Do-hae nodded.
"Lady Suyeong didn't want the marriage. But it got delayed when you collapsed."
"Ah!"
Finally, it clicked how things had unfolded. My possession into Yeon Namsaeng timed perfectly with his lightning-struck accident.
"You think I deliberately got struck by lightning? Everyone?"
Seon Do-hae fell silent, but his eyes agreed. Then it hit me.
"Father handed the marriage to my uncle."
"Yes. The two of them coveted a royal match."
"And they think I stirred trouble to sabotage it."
Seon Do-hae stayed quiet again. It irked me slightly, but I chalked it up to his advisor role. Thanks to my accident, history was proceeding as recorded.
"Funny butterfly effect."
Asking more would seem suspicious, so I stopped. Quick-witted Seon Do-hae said,
"If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave."
He bowed and left. As the door closed, I lay back on the bed. I'd asked servants, doctors, and my sister various questions as they came and went. But Seon Do-hae gave the most info—and I'd noticed his growing suspicion.
"His eyes turned weird earlier too. Better avoid him for a while."
I'd figured out who I was and the situation. But what next?
"What do I do?"
With time and clarity came worries about the future. Some unknown force had possessed me into Yeon Namsaeng, meaning I'd live as him until it reversed everything.
'If it were Eulji Mundeok or Yeon Gaesomun, fine. Even Geommu or Yeongnyu King would've been great. But Yeon Namsaeng of all people.'
I rolled around on the bed. At least I knew the year; now to plan ahead.
"Can't keep using the head injury excuse forever."
And the visible future loomed. In a dozen years, Father Yeon Gaesomun would coup, kill the king. Tang would invade on that pretext, leading to twenty years of war. Father dies, sons feud.
"Pushed out by brothers, flee to Tang, live as traitor, die."
Arguably the last winner, but a traitor nonetheless.
"Watching is one thing—living it is another."
I didn't want to be branded a traitor a millennium later.
"The question is how."
If I were Yeon Gaesomun or Yeongnyu King, easy. Change my mind as Yeon Gaesomun. As Yeongnyu King, just behead him. But as eldest son? Ambiguous.
"Hard to convince Father. Probably can't even meet Yeongnyu King."
Meanwhile, another thought bubbled up.
"Maybe I can change history."
Different choices from recorded history might prevent Goguryeo's fall.
"Dodge the traitor label too."
The thrill of possibly altering history excited me most.
"From dirt-poor aspiring writer to history-changing hero."
But how? My head hurt thinking it—like always when plotting novels. I rolled off the bed abruptly.
"Head's killing me. Need some fresh air."
I got up, opened the door, and stepped out. The guards by the door snapped to attention.
"I want to go out."
One guard asked,
"Shall I prepare a carriage? Or a horse?"
"Walking."
The ironclad guard showed emotion for the first time.
"You're going to walk?"
"Yeah, on two feet."
I demonstrated with my fingers, but he repeated,
"Let me carry you."
Seeing his distress sparked mischief.
"I can walk myself."
"How could..."
Looking at the guard sparked a better idea.
"In disguise."
The guard paled.
"This Geom Mojam cannot obey such an order. Please withdraw it."