Chen Youliang's Audience
The central pavilion of Chen Youliang's camp was wrapped in a tense stillness.
Red silk draped the entrance.
Behind it stood a black-draped seat of command.
Chen Youliang sat there.
He was young for a warlord, his features sharp, his posture unyielding.
There was no wild bloodlust in his eyes—only suspicion, calculation, and a calm that had survived too many battles.
He brought his hands together and spoke quietly.
"So you are envoys of Goryeo. You've come a long way."
Park Seong-jin bowed.
"The world bleeds. Goryeo only wishes that this blood does not become a sea."
A few scholars stirred at the words.
Chen Youliang raised a hand, silencing them.
"Fine words," he said.
"But the world is built on blood. How do you intend to build a state while keeping your hands clean?"
Park did not answer at once.
"To rule a state," he said finally, "is to govern the land.
Blood dries. Soil remains."
A ripple moved through the pavilion.
Chen studied him.
"You cut ties with Zhang Shicheng, and now you come to me. What do you want?"
"We do not seek a unified world," Park said evenly.
"But we do seek the unification of Jiangnan."
Chen's eyes flashed.
"A divided realm?"
"A single river floods," Park continued.
"Three channels regulate the flow."
"Balance," Chen murmured.
"Balance," Park confirmed.
"When balance breaks, the world collapses."
Chen smiled faintly.
"Balance only exists when power is equal.
How would I balance against the Yuan with empty words?"
Song Isul stepped forward.
"That is why we are here."
"Balance is not a matter of numbers," he said.
"It is a matter of legitimacy."
"If your cause stands, strength will follow."
Chen lifted his gaze fully now.
"Legitimacy is ink on paper," he said.
"I write with blood."
The meaning was simple.
He would win by force.
Park met his eyes.
"Then who reads that blood?"
Silence fell.
No one moved.
Then Chen Youliang laughed.
"What is your name?"
"Park Seong-jin."
"Seong—sincerity. Jin—advance."
He repeated it softly.
"A fitting name."
He rose from his seat.
"I've heard your intent. But this land is already soaked in blood.
Balance is not easily found here."
Park bowed again.
"Stopping the blood is also a human choice."
Chen walked slowly.
"You trust people more than Heaven."
"We do," Park said without hesitation.
"Heaven is distant. Human will is close."
Chen stopped.
A thin smile crossed his face.
"Very well. I will test your words myself."
He turned to Zhang Hui.
"House them. I will see them again in two days."
Park bowed deeply.
"Thank you, my lord."
"Not a king," Chen replied, waving a hand.
"But perhaps soon."
As he disappeared behind the curtains, cold wind swept through the camp.
Song Isul spoke under his breath.
"This wasn't negotiation. It was an examination."
"All the more reason to be sincere," Park replied.
"Though who tests whom remains to be seen."
From the shadows, Zhang Hui watched them with interest.
"They reject Heaven and trust people," he thought.
"How long will such words endure?"
Chen Youliang's Council
Between Profit and Legitimacy
After the envoys departed, Chen Youliang entered the inner pavilion.
Generals and scholars were already assembled.
Candles flickered. The tent fabric stirred with the wind.
"What did you make of Goryeo's words?" Chen asked.
Zhang Hui stepped forward.
"They speak of balance.
A divided world restraining itself."
"On the surface, moderation.
In truth, they fear Jiangnan rising alone."
General Yao scoffed.
"So they want us to bleed while they watch."
"They love the word 'balance.'
The weak always do."
Zhang Hui countered calmly.
"Not all of it is false.
Three powers locked together prevent total victory."
"Zhang Shicheng buys armies with silver.
Zhu Yuanzhang gathers people."
"What we need is time—and partners."
Yao glared.
"You mean profit from others' blood?"
"Politics is endurance," Zhang Hui replied.
"Not slaughter."
Chen listened without interruption.
At last, he spoke.
"Zhang Shicheng binds men with silver.
Zhu Yuanzhang binds them with faith."
"And Goryeo?"
"They plant words between blades."
Yao crossed his arms.
"So what will you do, my lord?"
Chen leaned forward.
"Goryeo is untrustworthy.
But their words have value."
"What do you seek from them?" Yao asked.
Chen's eyes gleamed.
"Legitimacy."
"If they name me the inheritor of Heaven's will, half the realm will already be mine."
Zhang Hui bowed.
"Shall we summon them again?"
"Yes," Chen said.
"But tell them this—I do not trust their intent."
"I only wish to hear the name they are willing to give."
Wax dripped onto the map of Jiangnan.
Chen stared at it.
"It is time to fight with words," he murmured.
"Wars built on words often outlast those built on blood."