The Greatest House of Hanam – The Jin Family Estate
The Greatest House of Hanam – The Jin Family Estate
As dusk deepened, the Jin estate grew loud with the start of the feast.
They were flushed with victory, and in their voices mingled a thin hope against a dark future and the tender stirrings of renewed expectation.
The Baekryongdae, the household retainers, and the direct nephews of the main family gathered together in one place.
Seats were laid across the wide courtyard.
On one side, meat was roasted and dishes prepared and carried out.
On the other, men ate and drank, loosening the fatigue from their limbs.
Even in the midst of it, Gagyeongpil selected ten men to patrol.
He sent another ten to lie in ambush at several points.
He did not forget to dispatch someone close to the estate to scout the situation in Anyang Fortress.
As the soldiers tore into meat, members of the household came close and examined their wounds.
They sat tight beside them, offering food and drink, tending injuries while the men ate.
They wrapped cloth around arms, wiped blood from stained garments.
They loosened pieces of armor, applied medicine to cuts, and bound them firmly.
Perhaps this is what it means to guard a nation.
Those who endure meager pay, bitter cold, and poor meals for the sake of their country—whether they have fought that day or not—deserve respect and proper honor.
When we pass young souls clad in military garb, should we not show them reverence and regard?
Whatever their temperament, however they look, even if their speech is coarse or they stagger drunkenly along the road, if they have once risked themselves for another, they are worthy of respect.
So I believe.
A nation is too vast and its people too many to easily share gratitude.
But within the small community of the Jin estate, those who returned victorious were consoled and praised, and time was spent together.
For the Baekryongdae, who had fought at the risk of their lives, it was a meaningful hour.
As the banquet ripened, someone began looking for the Scholar-Warrior.
Only then did they realize he was nowhere to be seen.
Had he gone out on patrol again?
"He's strange enough to do that," someone muttered, then called out loudly.
"Where's the Scholar-Warrior? He was incredible today."
"He led the vanguard. Where did he go?"
"He's not hurt, is he? Telling us to eat and drink while he slips away?"
"I thought I saw him go inside earlier."
"Wasn't he covered in blood?"
They asked around, but learned only that he had entered the main compound and vanished at once.
The small pavilion in the rear garden was a restricted area.
No one dared to search there.
They looked for his attendant, but the attendant was nowhere in sight.
Both the Scholar-Warrior and the attendant were inside Jin Mugwang's quarters.
The Scholar-Warrior rose from his seat.
"I believe they are looking for me."
It was not a distance from which sound could be heard.
Yet Sowoon felt it again.
He sensed that they were calling for him.
It was not seeing, nor hearing.
He simply felt it.
A faint awareness brushed against him, and he stood.
"Go ahead," Jin Mugwang gestured.
"If you go first, I will follow."
Lee Sogun tried to stop him.
"You must not. Your condition is far from well, my lord."
Jin Mugwang gently took her hand.
He meant that he was fine.
Sowoon had once thought such a sight would not suit the great general, stern and exacting as he seemed.
Yet it did not look strange at all.
It felt as though the two had always stood thus.
"It is all right," Jin Mugwang said softly.
"They are children who fought with their lives at stake.
We cannot forever demand sacrifice of them.
It will only be a moment."
He smiled at Lee Sogun, then looked at Lee Hui.
Lee Hui said nothing.
He had endured everything beside the general.
He knew better than anyone the state of that failing body.
Lee Hui bore the look of one who had crossed a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
He felt bitterness at having been unable to care for the general alone, yet coming here had proven right.
Jin Mugwang and Lee Sogun belonged together.
Even great men who seemed distant from tenderness stood more fully themselves in such moments.
In that gentleness, they appeared most beautiful.
One cannot live forever on steel alone.
It is warmth within the chest that allows a man to stride boldly through slaughter.
Lee Hui forced himself upright, gripping his sword.
His war-robe was stiff with dried blood.
The scent of blood and decay clung to him, and it was sorrowful.
Lee Sogun had witnessed their return.
After watching the Baekryongdae depart for Anyang Fortress, she had stood upon the hill in anxious dread.
Then she saw two horses climbing slowly toward the estate.
In that instant she knew her fear had taken form.
She ran.
Jin Mugwang barely clung to the saddle, swaying as though he might fall.
"My lord!"
Her cry broke in tears.
He only gave a hollow smile.
So it goes.
If one lives, one meets again.
Both men were grievously wounded.
Sword cuts marked their bodies.
Untreated injuries festered.
Lee Sogun suppressed her tears and led them through a small rear gate, avoiding the eyes of others.
Afterward came treatment, food, tears, and long sighs.
The day passed in dread that this might be the last.
They steeled their hearts as if preparing for death.
To fall in battle—
that was their resolve.