290."To Divide the World into Three"
Yun Dam and Song I-sul — "To Divide the World into Three"
Song I-sul had just stepped beyond the temple gate when he stopped and turned back.
A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes.
He walked back toward the pavilion and spoke in a low voice.
"Daoist."
Yun Dam lifted his head.
"What is it?"
Song I-sul continued—courteous, yet firm.
"We came to bring you with us.
Not to chase drifting clouds with words.
Will you not come and act with us directly?
Instead of telling us this or that—why not do it yourself?"
"To come with you…"
Yun Dam smiled, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Park-janggun must have spoken of it."
"Spoken of what?"
"Why I remained here."
Song I-sul smiled faintly.
"Park-janggun… said you only spoke in cloud-talk.
He said you thought deeply, but there was no substance."
Yun Dam gave a small snort of laughter.
"Is that so."
Song I-sul straightened.
"I expected as much.
I thought the words that mattered would not have reached you.
So I came."
He took a breath, then spoke in a voice low and solid.
"We are drawing a world where three legs stand side by side like a tripod鼎:
the one who unifies Jiangnan,
the Yuan in Beiping,
and Goryeo in the East.
That is our intent."
Yun Dam raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Is that different from the road you came by, at Dadu's request?"
"We came at Dadu's request," Song I-sul answered without wavering.
"But we do not remain an army that only fulfills orders.
We carry out independent judgment and operations."
"Hm…"
Yun Dam's gaze drifted briefly to the water.
"Then you will not tilt to one side—neither helping Yuan entirely nor resisting it entirely."
"That is correct."
Song I-sul's voice sharpened with certainty.
"It is also our intent to prevent the empire of Dadu from weakening too far."
"And the unification of Jiangnan is part of that?"
Song I-sul nodded.
"If the world is divided into three, yet those three maintain balance and stability, that too may be good.
But then Yuan will continue to meddle.
To keep them from meddling at will, we need a power large enough to be untouchable.
To build that weight—this is unification."
He added, quietly,
"I believe it is better for the people here to have a country of their own."
Then his voice hardened again.
"But if one country swallows everything, that strength will inevitably turn north.
Once it takes the Central Plains and Beiping, it will look east again.
We fear that."
Yun Dam fell silent for a moment.
The view of those who read the winds of the continent was never light.
The wind passed and brushed his sleeve.
His eyes were gentle.
His words were sharp.
"Do you believe dividing the world into three will bring stability?"
"It is the order of the world as we have learned it.
We have seen it in history.
When Song, Liao, and Goryeo stood together, those hundred years were the most peaceful.
Song was weak, yet it flourished."
Yun Dam shook his head slowly.
"To divide is to plant contradiction.
If the world is split into three, each of the three will insist on its own legitimacy.
That legitimacy will shake the world again."
Song I-sul drew a measured breath.
"Then how do you see it, Daoist?"
Yun Dam's gaze deepened.
"To divide the world is not the work of a noble man.
That is the work of one who knows how to draw the realm.
The noble man is the one who keeps people alive within that drawing."
He paused, then smiled at Song I-sul.
"You would divide the world into three.
I would return it to one."
"To one?"
"Only then do they stop killing each other.
When three face one another, what remains first is not balance, but tension.
And tension always calls the blade."
Yun Dam closed his eyes for a moment before he continued.
"You have already come carrying blades.
My words will struggle to reach even their tips."
Song I-sul fell silent.
After a moment, he lowered his head.
"We did not come merely to persuade you.
We came to ask for your cooperation.
Because you know this land."
Yun Dam smiled.
"Understanding… is heavier than persuasion."
He turned and stepped deeper into the pavilion.
His voice sounded as though it were receding.
"Tell Park-janggun this.
The world you draw is not wrong.
It is simply—an exceedingly arduous road."
Song I-sul answered softly.
"What do you mean by that?"
Yun Dam did not look back.
"One who divides the world into three must, in the end, create a fourth.
It would be more straightforward to say,
'We will unify and conquer—help us.'"
"Goryeo does not desire conquest."
The wind rose.
A shard of old roof tile fell and rolled down the stone steps with a dull clatter.
The sound spread far across the river.
Song I-sul stood there for a long while.
Yun Dam's words scattered into the wind—
then returned.
At last, Song I-sul turned and went down from the temple.
Far along the riverbank, the sail of Park Seong-jin's boat flapped in the wind.
"I will wait on the boat."
It sounded like we will wait until you come.
It also sounded like we are waiting—so settle your mind quickly and come.
To bring someone with you, you must persuade with the tangible—how much, what benefit, what guarantee.
The Daoist spoke as though grasping clouds, yet he did not treat compensation as a cloud.
Yun Dam's Soliloquy
When the men had gone, the temple returned to silence.
Mist settled along the water.
Sunlight spread from the edge of a rock onto the moss.
Yun Dam sat alone in the pavilion.
The path by which they had entered and the path by which they had left were the same place.
He closed his eyes and listened for a moment.
The sound of the soldiers' footprints, left behind, was slowly erased by the wind.
He murmured,
"Footprints left by men are like ripples raised upon water.
For things that vanish in a day, they fight so fiercely—
they build, and pile, and erase."
A bead of moisture fell from his fingertips.
As it seeped into the stone, a small circle spread.
Yun Dam watched that circle for a long time, then smiled faintly.
"Park-janggun is still young, his eyes clear.
Song the warrior knows reality, and his heart is heavy.
One believes in the path.
One doubts the end of that path."
He lifted his gaze slowly to the sky.
A pale blue was spreading there.
"I thought I had withdrawn from the world,
yet the world does not forget me.
The world calls me."
Something in his eyes trembled subtly.
He raised his hand and gently brushed away the fallen leaves before the pavilion.
"You will shake this land again.
The end of fighting is always the same.
The victor becomes soil, and the defeated becomes soil."
He laughed under his breath.
"But what remains upon that soil?
If one leaves a pattern worth the earth's remembering, that too may be a fragment of the Dao.
Yet these men speak of peace.
They claim no greed for this land.
Will that truly hold?"
Yun Dam rose.
The hem of his robe stirred in the wind.
The shadows of the pillars of the abandoned temple—廢寺—stretched long and covered his feet.
He walked slowly toward the rear of the temple.
There was a small stone Buddha there.
Its nose broken, its eyes worn smooth—an old image.
He sat before it and folded his hands.
"Buddha, men try to govern the world,
but in the end the world governs men.
I came here to escape that governance—
and now I am called again by the world."
He closed his eyes quietly.
The wind rose once more.
From the bell tower came a dull clang.
The sound flowed across the water.
"I only wished to live like the wind."
He lowered his head for a moment.
"What a contradiction—
that one who cast the world away should go to extinguish the world's fire."
His shoulders trembled faintly.
He smiled.
A lonely shadow lay over that smile.
Far away, a single crow flew.
Its cry faded slowly, and the temple sank back into silence.
Yun Dam murmured at last,
"I seek the Dao, yet the world calls me.
I, too, will return to soil."
His voice blended into the wind and vanished.
At that moment, above the abandoned temple,
the sky was quietly opening—blue.