437.

  Deep Night in Yangzhou

  Deep night settled over the city of Yangzhou.

  Beyond the walls, news of Jin Youliang’s great victory drifted in like a crescent moon, yet inside the city the silence only grew heavier.

  Seated alone, Zhang Shicheng stared grimly into the lamplight.

  Before him lay two small maps spread open—one of the Yuan dynasty, the other of the Jiangnan region.

  With a trembling finger, Zhang Shicheng traced a small circle between them.

  “When there were three, each kept the others in check. None could easily swallow me.”

  Even as he spoke, the words were already changing shape.

  His gaze cut through the empty space above the map and came to rest.

  “Now there are only two.”

  Zhu Yuanzhang had fallen.

  The one who seized him and dragged him back was the young Goryeo general Park Seong-jin, and behind him stood Yoon Dam, who read the currents of momentum itself.

  The position of the victor had grown simple.

  Jin Youliang, who had crushed Zhu Yuanzhang, and the Goryeo forces that aided him now stood at the forefront.

  Zhang Shicheng remained alone, hunched like a shadow within an old city.

  He muttered softly,

  “Can I hold out on my own?”

  Loss of Face — The Goryeo Army Camped Outside

  Outside the walls of Yangzhou, the Goryeo troops—who had fought as allies in the previous campaign—were still left without proper quarters.

  Yangzhou had been demanded and taken by force.

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  Though the city had been handed over for the sake of cooperation, the Goryeo soldiers now camped outside the walls, sleeping beneath trees and along the riverbank, their tents pitched on bare ground.

  The sight pressed clearly into Zhang Shicheng’s mind.

  “Was it right, demanding Yangzhou in the first place?”

  He bit his lip.

  An urge grew within him to ease that burden—to return Yangzhou even now.

  Jin Youliang had fought a battle that shook the realm, backed by a transcendent warrior of the Hwagyeong realm.

  What Zhang Shicheng had given the Goryeo forces, by contrast, was no more than a temporary place to pitch tents.

  “It reflects badly.”

  Zhang Shicheng had once been known as a righteous man.

  He had risen against injustice and placed trust with the people above all else.

  For someone like him, the way things now stood pierced like thorns into his flesh each night.

  From the dark corridor emerged a slender shadow.

  It was Wei Jin, Zhang Shicheng’s strategist.

  Wei Jin entered alone and bowed deeply.

  “My lord, the calculations have grown complicated.”

  Zhang Shicheng gave a bitter smile.

  “Yes. I already know the news.”

  “My lord, your hesitation now is shaking the flow of the realm.”

  Wei Jin quietly turned over the map Zhang Shicheng had been studying.

  His fingertips drifted slowly across its surface.

  There was no emotional fluctuation on Wei Jin’s face.

  In his world, profit and loss always spoke first.

  With his finger, he lightly touched two forces.

  Jin Youliang—the victor who crushed Zhu Yuanzhang, allied with the Goryeo army, backed by Yoon Dam’s ability to read momentum and the transcendent variable that was Park Seong-jin.

  And the Yuan dynasty—declining, yet still holding the mantle of legitimacy, retaining administrative foundations around Dadu and Shangdu, a weight not yet fully cast aside.

  Wei Jin spoke low and firm.

  “My lord, between two giants of the realm, before the imperial seat is decided, those caught in between are the first to be cut away.”

  Zhang Shicheng turned his face aside.

  Wei Jin sharpened his words further.

  “My lord, depending on which side you choose, the shape of the realm will change. Turn that choice into value. Trade with it.”

  Zhang Shicheng’s eyes wavered.

  “Wei Jin… you see me as a merchant, then.”

  Wei Jin did not retreat.

  “Even a merchant, when the realm is the stake.”

  “Those who let go of profit do not last long.”

  Zhang Shicheng slowly closed his eyes.

  He was still a man who believed in righteousness.

  “I founded my state to uphold the way of the people.”

  Wei Jin gave a faint shake of his head.

  “To uphold that way for long, you must first widen the ground on which it can stand.”

  No decision had yet been made.

  But Zhang Shicheng could already feel that the weight of the realm was tilting toward Jin Youliang and Goryeo.

  Before that force, the proper posture came naturally to mind—

  bowing one’s head, asking to be left even a small share.

  If he turned toward the Yuan, the shadow of betrayal would follow.

  If he turned toward Jin Youliang, the possibility that Jin might one day swallow him came with it.

  Zhang Shicheng let out a long sigh.

  Then, at last, he murmured softly,

  “…Park Seong-jin.”

  That name could not be erased from his calculations.

  As the variable that had shifted the balance of the realm.