159.
"Wait."
Should I ride in and sweep it all away? … Or draw closer and see for myself?
The thought split in two.
Suspicion came first.
Anyone with sense could see it was strange.
An army was marching this road.
And right along its path—wine, music, courtesans.
It could not be coincidence.
Yet his gaze would not leave it.
Women.
Wine.
And the chance to crush a weakened enemy and claim the glory.
Those were the things he truly loved.
That was precisely what Soun had aimed for.
He sent part of the central force ahead to surround the place from a distance, then rode forward himself.
Breaking from the center column, he moved faster than the infantry.
He passed along the marching ranks.
Before long he was near the vanguard.
Then he saw it.
At the point where the mountain slope met the plain stood a small pavilion.
Beside the flowing water a white canopy had been raised.
A single banner bearing the words Supreme General was planted beside it.
An armored man sat firm and upright, drinking.
Before him, a courtesan with one shoulder half-bared danced in languid, suggestive movements.
Even at a distance the exposed shoulder caught his eye.
Pale skin flashed.
It felt as though a five-colored rainbow had been stitched across the sky.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
His heart beat lightly.
If I delay, won't I just be handing this prize to the central commander?
Impatience rose.
He had to go himself.
He could not entrust such a scene to another man.
He leaned forward and edged ahead.
The officers guarding him followed.
As his pace increased, the infantry clogged the road.
While he threaded through them, the guards began to fall behind.
Thousands were marching.
What danger could come from drifting a little apart?
That was how he reasoned.
Reports had already stated there were no enemies nearby.
That assurance loosened his caution further.
The infantry moved slowly.
They were walking from the capital to Hanam.
Their steps were heavy; many days they could not even make a hundred li.
That slowness grated against Jang Sigi's urgency.
He could not endure it.
He pressed forward again and again.
The gap between himself and the vanguard widened.
Music and laughter grew clearer.
He craned his neck and urged his horse onward.
A few guards ran to keep pace.
When he glanced back, the main force was visibly farther away.
By the time he reached the two scouts at the very front, Yang Johwi had already drawn his bow.
Soun's intention was plain: draw Jang Sigi out.
Once the distance was secured, he spurred his horse at full speed.
He cut across the field like a man possessed.
At first Jang Sigi thought him a messenger riding with urgent news.
He gave him no more than a vacant glance.
He did not react.
His attention remained fixed on the music and the dance.
On the small raised platform, the courtesan's sleeves fluttered as she circled the so-called general.
Her movements had been choreographed at Yang Johwi's request.
In truth, he had asked for something far more provocative.
Soun had refused.
There was a line he would not cross, even for success.
So they settled for a glimpse of shoulder and the suggestion of seduction.
Yang believed greater excess would only increase the chances of success.
But what mattered now was not exposure—it was imagination.
What Jang Sigi's own mind completed would be more powerful than any display.
Soun rode alone.
A single rider.
He aimed straight for Jang Sigi, who had ventured ahead of his own advance guard.
He stroked his horse's neck and pressed it harder.
Across abandoned land dotted with short grass he flew like the wind.
He murmured softly,
"Run."
It had to be now.
If Jang Sigi rejoined the main force, everything would collapse.
Only while he was separated could this work.
Behind him rode no more than three or four guards.
Several dozen paces beyond them marched the vanguard of five thousand infantry.
Soun measured the exposed flank.
If Jang turned back now, could he still catch him?
Thoughts multiplied, but the body moved first.
He lashed the reins.
The speed was tremendous.
Even now, if Jang sensed danger and wheeled his horse, he could still rejoin the infantry.
But Jang did not turn.
He saw Soun and yet did nothing.
One rider only.
A single horseman.
He felt not the slightest threat.
He had imagined dozens, perhaps hundreds, lying in ambush.
But he saw no one.
His earlier suspicion began to seem excessive.
Complacency settled in.
Then an arrow flew.
One shaft.
Then another.
It was the shooting of a man capable of rapid release.
Jang remained calm.
He saw the trajectory clearly.
A slight shift of his body and the first arrow missed.
He knocked aside the second with ease.
You think you can strike me down with this?
Contempt crept in.
Pride displaced caution.
He was a general.
An arrow would not unnerve him.
Still, when he glanced back, the distance from the main body was greater than he had thought.
The awareness flickered and faded.
It was still only one man.
He signaled to the three guards beside him.
The music grew louder.
Sleeves like a celestial maiden's garments rippled in the wind.
He wanted to ride straight in and see it up close.
Temptation sharpens when it stands beside danger.
His judgment tilted toward desire.
"Seize him!"