the Road of Diplomacy
Park Seong-jin on the Road of Diplomacy
At dawn the next day, frost and mist lay thick along the riverbank.
Supplies were loaded onto the horses.
The envoy's banner was raised.
Yun Dam stood by the river to see them off.
"A road," he said, "is something left behind for those who return."
It was yet another long journey.
Park Seong-jin bowed, then asked,
"Daoist, will we be able to return again?"
Yun Dam smiled.
"The road is always born behind you. Once you go, it will surely open in your wake."
Ah—this is my failing, Park Seong-jin thought.
Even in ordinary conversation, I end up speaking in drifting clouds.
It will take a long time to grow accustomed to this culture.
The boat pushed off.
The water parted.
Lantern light trembled on the river.
Beneath that light, Park Seong-jin murmured,
"To win without entering battle… is this what it means?
Is such a thing possible through diplomacy like this?"
Song I-sul turned his head.
"No. The fight is only beginning. There can be no world without war."
Park Seong-jin smiled at that.
"Yes. I suppose so."
The boat turned slowly toward the north-west waterway.
Their destination lay near Hangzhou, close to Chen Youliang's stronghold—
deep in the heart of Jiangnan.
There, a new kind of war would begin.
Not a war of blades, but one fought with words and intent.
Arrival at Chen Youliang's Camp — The Opening of Diplomatic Warfare
By the time the envoy reached Chen Youliang's encampment, the sky had already darkened.
The fields near Hangzhou were heavy with mist.
Along the river stretched endless lines of boats and wagons.
Through the haze, banners swayed faintly.
Upon them were written two characters:
順天 — "Following Heaven's Will."
It was Chen Youliang's standard.
The calligraphy was large and orderly.
In every stroke of the brush lay hardened resolve.
Park Seong-jin lifted his gaze to read it.
"Following Heaven…"
Beside him, Song I-sul spoke quietly.
"It means yielding to Heaven. Heaven can mean principle—or the people themselves.
I wonder what Heaven is, to them.
They do not say whose Heaven it is."
Chen Youliang's camp was tightly ordered.
It differed from Zhang Shicheng's lavish encampment.
The soldiers here were accustomed to discipline; their attire was neat.
In their eyes, purpose came before profit.
As the envoys reached the camp entrance, two armed men stepped forward, leveling their spears.
"State your origin."
Interpreter Kang Min advanced.
"Envoys of the Goryeo kingdom. We have come to deliver a letter to General Chen Youliang."
The guards exchanged glances, then went inside to report.
Moments later, the tent curtain was drawn aside.
A man stepped out.
His clothes were not ornate, but his gait carried weight.
He appeared to be in his mid-forties.
His eyes were sharp; his manner restrained.
"I am Zhang Hui," he said, "a civil officer in service to General Chen."
He surveyed the delegation.
"For what purpose has Goryeo come so far?"
Park Seong-jin stepped forward calmly.
"The desire to see the chaos end is no different in east or south.
Our intent is to halt the fighting."
Zhang Hui smiled faintly.
"It is pleasant to hear.
Yet to come this far with an army while speaking of ending war—
that is a curious paradox."
Song I-sul stepped forward a pace.
"This is a battlefield. To arrive empty-handed is to offer one's life."
Zhang Hui met his gaze briefly and laughed softly.
"Rudeness and courage are often separated by a single thread."
Park Seong-jin continued.
"Goryeo does not wish for this turmoil to endure.
Nor can we accept one power swallowing all under Heaven—that, too, is a threat to us.
If Jiangnan finds balance, then the Yuan in the north, Goryeo in the east, and Jiangnan in the south can preserve one another's peace.
We seek peace."
Zhang Hui's eyes flickered.
"A familiar argument.
That Heaven is stabilized when divided in three—
the world split like the legs of a cauldron."
"But General Chen says this:
'Heaven is one.'
A divided realm always flows back toward unity,
and within that flow, blades rise."
"That," Park Seong-jin replied,
"is precisely what we have come to discuss."
His voice hardened.
"To prevent the three from raising blades, each must recognize the others' place.
You govern your land; we guard the boundary."
Zhang Hui narrowed his eyes.
"And what do you call this boundary?"
Park Seong-jin answered slowly,
"A line.
The fate of this land depends on who crosses that line first."
Silence followed.
The wind brushed the edge of the tent.
At last Zhang Hui spoke softly.
"An intriguing logic.
A line drawn by Heaven… it feels like reading a Daoist text."
He turned away.
"I will convey this to General Chen. There will be a reply tomorrow."
Then he added, without looking back,
"I hear you brought along a Daoist.
These words must be his handiwork."
Park Seong-jin smiled.
"The Daoist only spoke of the road.
Walking it is our responsibility."
Zhang Hui paused, then glanced back.
"Very well. Let us see where this road of yours leads."
He disappeared into the tent.
Only wind and the sound of breathing remained.
Song I-sul muttered,
"A road… The Daoist's words always breed more words."
Park Seong-jin replied,
"The road does not follow people.
People follow the road."
His gaze deepened.
Far away, the lights of Jiangnan blinked through the mist.
Beneath those lights, a new struggle was quietly unfolding.
Excerpt from The Biography of Chen Youliang (Annotated)
陳友諒, 字漢傑, 江西德安人也.
Chen Youliang, style name Hanjie, was a native of De'an in Jiangxi.
(Born to a fisherman's household, he learned letters and numbers early and harbored ambition from youth.)
本漁家子, 少通書算, 性沉毅而有計略.
Though born to a fishing family, he mastered writing and calculation while young; his nature was calm, resolute, and strategic.
(Poor in origin, yet keen in understanding the workings of the world.)
嘗隷鄱陽水師, 後據江州, 稱吳王, 改元大義.
He once served in the Poyang naval forces, later seized Jiangzhou, proclaimed himself King of Wu, and adopted the era name Dayi ("Great Righteousness").
(He claimed not the broken authority of the Yuan, but the mandate of a new realm.)
性剛而智, 然多猜忌, 喜用士人而終不信之.
His nature was firm and intelligent, yet he was deeply suspicious; though he favored scholars, he never fully trusted them.
(Intelligence without sufficient virtue—thus his success could not endure.)
能以恩誘人, 又能以刑制下.
He knew how to attract men through favor and to control subordinates through punishment.
(By wielding both benevolence and severity, he held firm command.)
嘗言曰:「治亂非天,惟人心耳.」
He once said, "Order and chaos are not decided by Heaven, but by the human heart."
(A bold rejection of heavenly mandate in favor of human will.)
然其志在一統, 未能容物, 故勢方盛而德不加.
Yet his ambition lay in unification alone; he could not contain others, and though his power flourished, his virtue did not grow.
(A lofty aim, but a narrow heart—hence a swift end.)
至是, 聞高麗軍駐楊州, 將使議和焉.
At this time, hearing that the Goryeo army was stationed at Yangzhou, he learned that envoys had come to discuss peace.