Chapter 362
On the Weight of Heaven's Current
Late that night, Yoon Dam sought out Jin Youliang's grand command tent.
The tent was livelier than usual.
Generals came and went, voices overlapped over spread maps, orders were exchanged, messengers rushed in and out.
The rasp of ink being ground, the scrape of lines drawn across parchment—
the tent was filled with the breath of war itself.
Yet Yoon Dam passed through the busy front like a blade parting water
and entered the inner space in silence.
A faint smile rested on his face,
but beneath it lay a resolve as firm as set stone.
"You've come, Scholar Yoon."
Jin Youliang rose with open warmth.
To him, Yoon Dam was a rare figure—one who had drawn the great outlines of his strategy.
"You've heard, haven't you?"
"The Goryeo master—Seongjin."
Jin Youliang could not hide his excitement.
"They say he's considering my request."
Yoon Dam nodded, but his expression did not brighten.
"Yes. I've heard."
"Then—"
Before Jin Youliang could continue,
Yoon Dam raised a hand to stop him.
And in that moment, he deliberately raised his voice.
He drove a single word into the heart of the tent like a nail.
"Your Majesty."
The tent trembled subtly.
Several generals looked up.
Brushes paused mid-stroke above documents.
Yoon Dam did not waste the opening.
"That matter cannot be done."
The air changed instantly.
A space once filled with voices seemed to hold its breath.
Jin Youliang frowned, unable to understand.
"Why?"
His tone was light,
but beneath it churned urgency and expectation.
"With a master like that, it's well within his power.
If one man falls, tens of thousands of soldiers may live."
When the words soldiers' lives left his mouth,
they carried a strange resonance.
Yoon Dam understood it well.
It was compassion dressed as a shortcut—
the request of a man willing to sacrifice every soldier in this camp
if it meant reaching his goal.
Meeting his gaze directly, Yoon Dam replied,
"Your Majesty, this is not a matter of tactics.
It is an act that shakes Heaven's current."
At the words Heaven's current,
Jin Youliang's shoulders stiffened.
Yoon Dam stepped forward once more, calmly pressing on.
"Zhu Yuanzhang is but one man.
But the flow supporting him numbers in the hundreds of thousands.
The moment he is cut down, all that force will surge to fill the void."
"We call that backlash."
"No one can predict where it will strike.
It may overturn the course of history.
It may give rise to another Zhu Yuanzhang.
Or it may bring disaster upon our own camp."
As he spoke, Yoon Dam folded his fingers one by one.
With each word, the tent grew quieter—
faces tense, as if even breathing too deeply might disturb the truth.
"First, the people's unrest will scatter in unpredictable directions."
"Second, Zhang Shicheng's calculating arrogance may turn toward us."
"Third, the Yuan remnants watching from afar may rise again."
He folded another finger.
"Military instability and division of public sentiment will erupt—
all at once."
Jin Youliang's expression hardened.
Yoon Dam placed his final words carefully atop that rigid face.
"Your Majesty, we are currently facing two enemies—
Zhang Shicheng and Zhu Yuanzhang."
"The moment this balance breaks,
the one left standing will devour us."
The tent sank into silence.
This was the heaviest truth of all.
Yoon Dam's voice remained low, but unmistakably clear.
"There is no single stroke that ends this.
Assassination does not close a battlefield—it opens one."
"This war must be resolved by war."
He looked Jin Youliang straight in the eye.
"The backlash of that blade will return to you first, not the Goryeo forces.
Do not attempt to defy Heaven's current."
Only then did Jin Youliang's face change.
He was no longer the impatient general seeking a shortcut,
but once again a contender for the realm itself.
Calculation, desire, and fear surfaced—then sank away.
"Heaven's current… such a thing truly exists?"
"Yes. Just as there is Heaven's mandate, there is Heaven's flow."
Jin Youliang asked more quietly,
"Has Heaven chosen him?"
Yoon Dam did not answer at once.
After a measured breath, he drew a precise line.
"Not yet.
But it is possible he was born into this world bearing Heaven's notice."
"To speak too clearly of Heaven's current is to risk distortion.
The outcome may differ from what we expect—or desire."
"That is what we call a twisted flow."
Jin Youliang's eyes narrowed.
Yoon Dam pressed on, his voice firm.
"There are no exceptions in this world.
If I may be right, then others may also be right.
If I am strong, then others may be strong as well."
"The net of Heaven is vast—its mesh wide, yet nothing escapes it."
"The laws of Heaven and Earth may appear loose or uneven,
but in matters of cause and consequence,
they never err."
"We cannot step outside that chain.
Nor should we hope for a result that does."
Jin Youliang scoffed.
"And you think I wished for something so frightening?"
"And it would serve only Zhang Shicheng," Yoon Dam added.
Jin Youliang paused.
"You mean killing Zhu Yuanzhang benefits Zhang Shicheng?"
"Yes."
"…Then that would mean,"
he swallowed the end of the sentence,
"…I would be aiding Zhang Shicheng with my own hand."
Yoon Dam nodded.
"Precisely."
"The control of Jiangnan would fall to him."
A long silence followed.
Even the generals dared not break it.
At last, Jin Youliang exhaled deeply—
not a breath, but the act of setting down a heavy thought.
"…Then we will speak of this no further."
Yoon Dam bowed slightly.
"Your Majesty's decision has saved us all."
Jin Youliang looked toward the dark sky beyond the tent,
his attempted smile stopping halfway.
"The world truly can be thrown into chaos by a single blade."
Yoon Dam replied softly,
"Which is why times like these demand restraint."
Jin Youliang nodded slowly.
Then, as if fixing the words both for himself and for Yoon Dam, he declared,
"Very well."
"I will build my strength—
and crush them with an army."
At that moment, Yoon Dam felt a faint chill of sweat.
This was the unmistakable nature of a man who commanded vast forces.
He answered with a faint smile.
"When that time comes,
that blade will fall far more easily."
Outside the tent, the wind drifted westward.
The balance of the war had not yet tipped.
But the silent wind carried word that the course of the realm
had leaned—just slightly—toward a different future.