Background
"If we admit outsiders, complications may arise, Princess."
The man standing before her had a tall, austere bearing, thin and refined like a crane.
He wore a scholar's robe, yet a sword hung at his waist.
Though it was late at night, he had not retired.
It seemed he had been waiting for Surim and her party to return from inspecting the outer formation.
Princess.
So she was of imperial blood.
"Of course I am aware of that. That is why I went out and confirmed it myself. The group we encountered is none other than Jin Mugwang, Commander of the Northern Expedition. The men trapped in the formation were warriors of his Baekryong Unit."
"How were you able to confirm this?"
"There was a young boy among them. His name is Yu Sowoon. They call him Scholar Yu. He is the very youth-general of whom rumors abound. His martial prowess, his intelligence, his manners, the weapons he uses, even his homeland—all match the accounts."
"You verified this in person?"
"I did. The boy is now resting in Chuhyang Pavilion. As for the General and his party, I sent Deungchun to invite them."
The old man fell silent.
Deep thought stilled the tongue.
Jin Mugwang.
No simple man.
A hero hailed as the greatest general of his generation.
He had crushed the barbarians and earned the deep trust of the people.
The problem lay with the current Emperor, who disliked and feared him.
On the battlefield, Jin Mugwang was invaluable.
In politics, he was but a novice.
After returning victorious, he had been summoned and effectively dismissed.
Though he submitted a resignation memorial, it was clearly a forced removal.
His military merit was acknowledged with land and servants, but he was stripped of real authority.
He was known as a stubborn and principled warrior.
An ordinary man, facing hardship, might accept an offer to join another cause.
Jin Mugwang would not.
Yet if he stood with them, it would be worth more than ten thousand troops.
His allegiance would move countless loyalists.
With his strength, defeat in battle would become unlikely.
He was the kind of hero who wrested victory from impossible circumstances.
A long silence followed.
They drank several cups of tea as they pondered.
Across a thin wooden table, the two sat without speaking.
The candle flame flickered.
There was no wind.
It was their hearts that wavered.
"Jin Mugwang is not an easy man to win over," the old man said quietly.
"He is loyal, but he does not form factions. The possibility of him joining us is very small. During the various coups that changed the throne, many tried to recruit him. He refused them all—even when refusal could have meant death. That is why he now stands in such difficulty.
After defeating Gateukrip, he did not return in triumph but went south. That suggests he intended to retire home. Yet he did not go to Henan. There must be another reason. Most likely, he has drawn the suspicion of the current Emperor. When the Emperor ascended the throne, Jin Mugwang offered no support.
In the past, he withdrew to Henan and shut himself away. He harbors no personal ambition, only loyalty to the state. Ironically, that is his flaw. Those in power see such steadfastness as obstinacy.
Whenever the throne changed hands, he was sent away. Attempts to recruit him failed. Because he did not bind himself to any faction, he survived. Had he pledged himself to one side, he might no longer exist.
He abandoned everything and chose seclusion. He appeared only when the army was needed.
Any regime requires him. No one else can halt the barbarian horsemen as he can.
The chance of winning him is small. Yet if he is truly here in this mountain, it is proper to host him with courtesy. If he could be persuaded, he would be our greatest reinforcement.
However, we must not reveal ourselves. Do you understand?"
The conclusion was subtle but clear.
Host him.
Expect little.
Surim closed her eyes, caught between hope and anxiety.
The old man finished another cup of tea, bowed, and withdrew.
If they could win over the man cast aside in the capital like meat cast into a boiling pot, there would be no greater fortune.
"Jin Mugwang…"
Surim murmured the name.
As a child, she had once seen him depart for war.
Clad in golden armor, bearing the Emperor's sword, commanding one hundred thousand troops.
He had been young, fierce, unstoppable.
A master of strategy and the movement of armies.
Surim resolved herself.
She would win him to her side.
The yellow candle flame burned softly,
flickering like ambition.