Sowoon's Future
It was a night heavy with worry.
They had taken separate rooms at the inn.
The Grand General was grateful for the loyalty of the men who followed him, yet he could not help but think about their future.
On the battlefield, where death could come at any moment, sending them back alive to their hometowns had once been the most he could do as their commander.
Now, however, he felt responsible for what would become of them beyond survival.
Their refusal to return home, their choice to stake their safety on following him, was touching, yet burdensome.
If he could reach Henan, he might take them in as retainers or dependents.
But would that truly end the matter?
Would his resignation erase the Emperor's suspicion?
It was a hope—but perhaps only a fragile one.
How many ministers had walked into death without fault?
Jin Mugwang did not believe this would simply pass.
The Chancellor had only asked for what was immediately necessary.
For the moment, a reckless imperial command had been avoided.
In the end, however, the Emperor's blade would fall.
Sowoon's future, in particular, was uncertain.
He had once wished to rebuild his clan and pass the civil examinations.
Then he had longed to subdue the barbarians.
Now even that seemed beyond reach.
Jin Mugwang summoned him.
Sowoon had been unable to sleep in the cramped adjoining room where the men lay pressed shoulder to shoulder.
The smell of sweat from their forced march clung thick in the air.
In truth, he was more accustomed to sleeping beneath open skies or in military tents.
When Sowoon, having rubbed the sleep from his eyes and straightened his garments, entered the Grand General's chamber, it was deep in the night.
By the faint glow of a candle, Jin Mugwang was writing something.
"Come here."
"Yes, sir."
The Grand General gestured to a seat, and Sowoon sat respectfully where he was directed.
"You once said you wished to subdue the barbarians, to avenge your wrongs. Yet I have resigned my post. What, then, will become of you? I called you to discuss your path."
A silence followed.
The Grand General had spoken from concern, but Sowoon did not believe this was the moment to dwell on the future.
The future belonged to another time.
Setting a direction might help in days of certainty, but tomorrow itself was unclear.
If they might all be slaughtered by morning, what meaning was there in debating distant prospects?
"I too have resigned. I will escort you safely to your homeland, General. After that, I shall consider what comes next."
"And if we arrive safely? Or if we do not?"
The General's thoughts ran deep.
"I have not considered it yet. Lately my mind has been wholly given to martial practice. Matters beyond that do not occupy me. What matters now is serving you, and advancing in my training."
"Hm. Matters that do not matter, you say."
He paused.
"Then what does matter to you?"
"Once, it was success in the examinations and rising in the world. More recently, it was defeating the barbarians. Now, it is becoming a better version of myself. I do not know if I can, but I feel I have grasped the beginning of a path in martial cultivation."
"A better self… Martial arts… So this 'beginning' you speak of is the road to mastery?"
"Not mastery. My abilities are still shallow. Through training, I wish to forge a stronger self—body and mind alike. To refine myself into another self through discipline. I believe that is what matters most. I know you may have summoned me to tell me to return home, but I have nowhere to return to, nor do I wish to. I wish to remain with you. I may be young and of little strength, but allow me to contribute what little I can."
These were not words a child should speak.
They had been tempered in war.
When he first arrived at the frontier, pale as a corpse, he had been little more than a boy.
Sowoon had grown swiftly.
"I do not know how you will take this, but for the sake of the Emperor and my household, it may be best if I simply disappear. For your sake as well, and for the men of the White Dragon Unit. I have chosen my direction, but I do not intend to return to Henan. The Emperor may yet pursue me. Dangerous days may lie ahead. Those we met at Yuga Village may return—this time in greater numbers."
"Wherever you go, I will follow."
"And the barbarians? Have you abandoned that cause?"
He sought to draw Sowoon back to his original resolve.
"This incident has made me reconsider. The barbarians run rampant not simply because they are evil, but because the nation has been made weak. It is not the barbarians alone who deserve blame, but the weakness of the state. I am young and ignorant of the world, but I wish to see clearly what lies before me. Had the Emperor strengthened the nation and trained the army properly, the invasion would not have reached Taiyuan—so near the capital itself. I have heard that the army was kept weak for fear it might become the seed of rebellion. What meaning would my personal revenge hold in such a world? It is the condition of that world that fills me with grief."
"You speak boldly. Do you blame politics? Politics is ever thus. Politics, diplomacy, and war are one. There are enemies within—that is politics. There are enemies without—that is diplomacy and war. The army once rose in rebellion under Prince Yong. The Emperor was shaken. The embers remain within the ranks even now. Can you call that entirely the Emperor's fault?"
"But you are not such a man, General. Why must you suffer this? We cannot help but feel wronged."
"I may not be such a man. But consider this. If Jin Mugwang were sent to the frontier to repel invaders and trained his army exceedingly well—suppose the invaders were defeated, yet whispers arose that he harbored ambition. What would the Emperor think? Even if I have no such intent, others might use my position for their own gain. That is entirely possible. However firmly I stand, I cannot erase the greed of others. I would be used. If I were to die quietly, what would the Chancellor lose? He already commands the court. Yet if invasion shattered the common people's lives, his power would tremble like a lamp in the wind. He does not wish me too powerful, nor too influential. He wishes me alive, ready to be used when needed. That is why he came at night—so I might resign and flee, while he reports directly to the Emperor and reassures him."
He understood the world fully, and yet could not escape being human within it.
"I do not understand politics well. I was taught that the people are Heaven, that an age of peace is when they eat their fill and walk the earth in worn straw shoes. I do not believe intrigue, slander, and assassination define governance. I no longer desire to see more of the capital. I no longer desire to become a great scholar. I wish to study further, to understand myself, and then to become something better."
"Then shall I introduce you to a Daoist temple? There are ascetics who cultivate only the Way. In Tianshan, I know men who might guide you beyond the worldly path."
"I have considered such a thing. But for now, I must remain at your side. And at the side of my comrades."
Jin Mugwang sighed.
That a boy so upright should have no place in this vast world felt unjust.
War was the cause, and fear of strong armies had birthed that war.
A weakened throne had unsettled the realm.
"Very well. Your resolve eases my heart. But if anything happens to me, go to Tianshan. Speak my name."
"Tianshan… Do you mean the martial world?"
"They are not wholly unrelated, but they dwell apart from the world."
"I understand."
Their conversation came to an end.
"Now then, let us see your martial skill. Shall we step outside?"
Jin Mugwang opened the inn door.
The courtyard stretched wide, and moonlight lay pale as dew along the rear path.
Sowoon followed, sword in hand.
The moon shone bright, mist drifting low across the ground.
They walked slowly toward a secluded space.
A faint wind stirred, pushing the mist aside.
The moon hovered over the pale veil of fog.
Jin Mugwang suddenly realized something.
It had been a long time since he had crossed blades in earnest.