To be honest, from Unwi’s perspective, those two offers should’ve been enough.

What was Song Hak’s dilemma? Taxes.

Those three cities were barely paying any taxes to begin with. They sold Shinsam Flower independently, and naturally, there were no taxes on that either.

To Song Hak—who had always disliked that most of all—Unwi had made a reasonable proposal:

Exclusive sales rights to Shinsam Flower, and a political alliance.

And Unwi had been purchasing “prisoners” from the Yang Empire.

So far, he’d bought over two hundred prisoners.

He paid a full twenty thousand silver nyang for them.

Normally, twenty nyang per person would’ve been more than enough—but he paid that full sum. It was Unwi’s way of signaling—at least outwardly—that he wouldn’t skip taxes and would preserve appearances.

So then...

What was it, exactly, that Song Hak wanted, that made him say Unwi’s offer was lacking?

"Seems there’s something Lord Prefect wants from me. Would you tell me what it is?"

"...Young Lord."

"Yes?"

"How far do you intend to go?"

Unwi’s gaze twitched.

It was a question he hadn’t expected.

But it wasn’t like he’d lived without already deciding the answer.

He spoke firmly.

"The heavens."

"The heavens, is it... I may not be a martial artist, but I dare say I know how to read people. With your caliber, you can certainly stand at the heavens. Then let me ask—are you the kind of man who keeps his word, no matter what?"

Again, there was no hesitation.

"They say a man’s word is worth a thousand pieces ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) of gold. I’ve never once in my life broken a promise I’ve made."

"...I see. That’s good... and enviable."

"..."

"Do you know how old I am, Young Lord?"

"I believe you’ve reached mangbaek—ninety-one."

"Correct. I turned ninety-one this year. I’ve seen four emperors come and go. How long do you think I’ll live?"

"You should live well beyond sangsu—past a hundred. Perhaps to dasu, even a hundred and eight."

"Haha... you may as well just curse me."

Song Hak had lived a long life.

More than just a long life—he was still in active office. There was nothing more to say.

"Would you promise me one thing?"

"Please, speak."

"Make sure the Yang Empire is never erased from this world."

At that, Unwi’s eyes widened.

"If you, who just declared you’d reach the heavens, can speak those words with your own mouth—I’ll give you the three districts. I’ll block the pressure from the Martial Alliance and the Sichuan Alliance for the rest of my life."

The stone Unwi had been holding hovered, unmoved.

He hadn’t expected this.

He had known their dialogue spanned both the present and the future.

But Song Hak was looking beyond even that future.

He had grasped the value of Unwi’s existence astonishingly quickly. The very fact that Unwi had come straight to Geongonseong had already proven that value.

Even if one lives ninety years, it’s not normal to see what others can’t.

But experience exists for a reason.

He’d entered officialdom at twenty. That made this his seventieth year. With that, he had every right to pride himself on his insight.

"So that’s what you want."

"Yes. If heaven is where you’ll stand, then surely the Yang Empire will remain safe under your protection."

Unwi paused to think, then spoke.

"I’d like to clarify two things first."

"Go ahead."

"Even if marriage talks arise with the Yang Empire, the one they refer to won’t be me."

"And the second?"

"Ensuring the Yang Empire isn’t erased from the world—that much, I’ll do. But I won’t govern on their behalf, or act as their political representative."

"Haha, you said two things, but now you’re adding more."

Unwi simply stared at Song Hak.

Song Hak’s smile remained unchanged.

"Very well. Let it be so."

"...Understood."

Song Hak picked up a stone and continued.

"I’ll strongly recommend this agreement to the imperial court. Of course, I’ll frame it in a way they can accept."

Unwi raised his head.

"Congratulations. Today, Young Lord, you’ve secured two districts. And soon, a third will follow. This marks the birth of a new Chongryeong—a Grand Commander."

Unwi did not smile.

Song Hak, Prefect of Geongonseong.

In his previous life, Unwi had never met him.

Because exactly one year from today—Song Hak would die.

Judging from Song Hak’s demeanor, he already seemed to know he didn’t have long to live.

To be blunt, that awareness was probably why he offered up trade rights and all the rest.

With a full year, Unwi could not only fully bring the cities under control, but also secure them.

He had made a deal with Song Hak—not anyone else.

If the person changes, and the situation changes, then naturally, a new agreement must be struck.

Adjusting the terms later would be fine—but the feeling it left was strange.

The way Song Hak offered up three districts so easily, for the sake of the Yang Empire’s future—what Unwi saw in that was devotion.

"Haha... what is there to look at on an old man’s face like this that you stare so intently?"

"I was just looking."

"Heh heh... let’s keep playing, shall we? Today is truly delightful."

As Song Hak laughed, Unwi finally reached out for another stone.

***

Mak Sohong of Geongonseong spoke firmly.

"Return. Lord Prefect will not meet with martial artists."

At those words, Jegal Yeonghyeon, Vice Lord of the Martial Alliance, stood speechless for a moment.

Nowhere, nowhere had he ever received this kind of treatment.

It was unbelievable—absolutely insane.

"...Mak Sohong, was it?"

"Yes. I am Mak Sohong, Vice Captain of the Geongon Sword Unit."

"As Vice Lord of the Martial Alliance, I’ve come to speak with Lord Prefect on an urgent matter. And yet you’re casting me out? Do you know what the Martial Alliance represents—"

"Lord Prefect asked me to relay this message."

Mak Sohong took a breath and spoke in a dignified tone.

"The sea accepts all rivers—but it remembers the order in which they arrived."

Jegal Yeonghyeon’s expression froze.

He immediately understood the weight in that single sentence.

"...Don’t tell me... Seol Unwi came here first?"

"You must’ve moved quickly, but I suppose not fast enough."

His mouth closed.

Mak Sohong continued.

"Lord Prefect also said this: ‘Only a clear river is fit to join the sea.’"

"...The river... must be clear...?"

"Yes. Only a river with clean water has the right to enter the sea. I don’t know exactly what that means, but as Vice Lord of the Martial Alliance, surely you understand it better than I do."

He did.

There was no way not to understand.

It was a clear warning.

A sharp rebuke of the Martial Alliance’s past conduct and its failed schemes.

The internal uproar over using Bongrae as a scapegoat—now even Song Hak had spoken out.

It made sense.

Song Hak was the prefect. Bongrae was under his jurisdiction.

More than anything, maintaining the non-aggression pact between court and martial world required pre-alignment at the top. Giving and taking. Coordinating what each side wants.

But the Martial Alliance had turned its back. And now, they had made a mess.

The moral high ground belonged to Song Hak.

Jegal Yeonghyeon had many things to say—but could say none of them.

Because he could feel it.

Song Hak’s decision had already been made.

"Oh—and the Vice Lord of the Sichuan Alliance was here as well."

"...Moyong Namcheon was here?"

"Yes."

"Lord Prefect said something to him, and he left immediately afterward."

Jegal Yeonghyeon’s voice was low.

What did he say?

Mak Sohong lowered his voice and spoke with weight.

"Lord Prefect said, ‘The one who tears down the old levee and opens a new waterway shall govern all the rivers of the world. So, should we not open both land and sea routes for him?’"

Jegal Yeonghyeon’s face turned pale.

"And if I may add—Young Lord Seol has already established a new trade network connecting our Yang Empire with the port city of Jeokan and Bongrae. Not to mention the exclusive Shinsam Flower contract... there’s really nothing more to say."

Jegal Yeonghyeon clenched his fists.

What did this all mean?

The plan to isolate Yangryeong by the Sichuan and Martial Alliances—was completely destroyed.

His lips sealed shut.

Seol Unwi.

Just what... is this man?

What kind of monster predicts the strategies of the Martial Alliance and Sichuan Alliance in advance?

How wide must his vision be—for someone in some rural backwater between Outer and Central Murim to be making moves like this?

The distance from Gongneung or Sichuan to Geongonseong is far—but it’s still much closer than Yangryeong to Geongonseong.

This is...

This is truly insane. This cannot be happening.

"The Vice Lord of the Sichuan Alliance wore a very impressive expression as he left."

Jegal Yeonghyeon looked up at Mak Sohong, who added,

"Vice Lord of the Martial Alliance—surely you’ve arrived at the same conclusion."

Jegal Yeonghyeon had nothing more to say.

Because he had realized it.

Unwi had not merely conquered Jeokan.

He had established a new trade system linking three nations, while checking the influence of both the Martial and Sichuan Alliances.

And this... this was done by a seventeen-year-old boy?

More than anything—Song Hak, that Song Hak, had sided with him?

It was devastating.

"In the end, the man who knows how to admit defeat... is the true man, is he not?"

Where did it all go wrong?

Ah.

Ahh... he remembered now.

When Seol Unwi played that divine move.

When he completely overturned the board.

Everything had ended back then. But because they refused to accept it and kept dragging things out—they ended up here. In a tilted match, anything you do just gets swept away.

He turned away in silence.

It was a total defeat.

No excuses. No justification. A complete, perfect loss.

In that brief moment, Jegal Yeonghyeon looked ten years older.

***

Inside the carriage headed back to Yangryeong, silence prevailed.

There were three people inside.

Chief of Seong, Wonyang.

And Unwi, sitting with arms crossed, eyes closed.

The silence between the three of them had lasted for over a whole hour.

Ugh.

Finally, Chief of Seong couldn’t hold back any longer and opened his mouth.

"Young Lord... they say the talks went well, so why do you look so unhappy?"

Unwi slowly opened his eyes.

"I was thinking about that man—Song Hak."

"Ah... did something... small happen to bother you?"