The broken world

He grew truly concerned only when another mounted courier brought a letter to the camp from one of his spies stationed in Yuigui. At the outset of the war, Yuigui pursued its typical policy: trading with both Cheongju and Ryukoku, supporting both nations, and reaping every possible benefit from the conflict. But the news this time was disheartening. The spy wrote that while Yuigui wasn’t openly entering the war, it planned to cease aiding Cheongju and instead send troops and ships to Ryukoku’s aid. A year ago, Gerel wouldn’t have even entertained the notion of such a move — the Yuiguians were a little afraid of the Land of the Tiger and had no reason to support Ryukoku, their long-standing enemy. Now, it seemed, they had found a reason — and Gerel even knew the name of that "reason." He recalled his conversation with Yukinari, a seemingly open and candid discussion about how the "third power" would never intervene in the war. It turned out neither of them had actually believed that — each had been hiding a trump card. Gerel could try to expose Yuigui’s support of Ryukoku, but that would only lead to an open confrontation with the Yuiguians — a fight on two fronts that he was not prepared for. The problem had to be resolved quietly. He did, after all, have a plan for such an occasion. It was, admittedly, a plan that flagrantly violated the warrior’s code — and any other code of honor for that matter — but Gerel had done worse in the past. This was delicate work, and there was no one better suited for it than Son Gyeo. Son Gyeo was as loyal as a hound. They had known each other for over a decade, ever since they had joined the army and been assigned to the same "wu" — a squad of five. Not long after that, Son Gyeo had become Gerel’s right hand — first as his deputy in a hundred-strong unit, then a thousand, and finally, commander of his own thousand. If Gerel told him to leap from a roof, Son Gyeo would do it without hesitation. Gerel explained the task and described the individuals he would need to meet in Yuigui's capital. He promised to look after Son Gyeo’s men in his absence and warned him that he could not guarantee his safety en route — for where one rider might slip by unnoticed, a group would not. "Ride swiftly, change horses at every post station. You may face attempts to stop you. I’ll give you two letters — destroy them if you are in danger." Son Gyeo nodded eagerly. "Son Gyeo," Gerel said, striving to make his tone sound earnest. "One of the letters bears my seal. If it falls into the wrong hands, it will mean open war with the Land of the Tortoise." This was the moment to add something inspiring, to look him in the eye as Yukinari would have done. Gerel wished he had that same knack for manipulating people. But anyway, he knew Son Gyeo would follow his order — or die trying. "If this succeeds, you’ll have to bring someone back from Baijing... a girl." The thirty-first stratagem: The Beautiful Person. And one of those rare, delightful situations where fate had already dug the pit; all Gerel had to do was pull away the flimsy cover at the right moment. The first letter was long and detailed, sealed with his personal stamp of a rearing tiger. It was a risk, but without the seal to authenticate the sender, the letter would be meaningless. The second was much shorter and addressed to the spy who had provided the news about Yuigui’s plans to aid Ryukoku. It read: “I need the archivist Shen’s daughter.” The daughter of Archivist Shen was the subject of endless gossip in the capital of the Land of the Tortoise. Known as intelligent, industrious, and ambitious in the best sense, she held a high-ranking position in the Tax Bureau. Her name was Shen Yangfei, though behind her back people called her Shen-Guifei — Shen the Noble Consort. She was not, however, an imperial consort; it was well known that the emperor was in love with her, but she had been rejecting his advances for years. To accept, after all, would mean forfeiting her position as an official. It had been unwise of Yangfei to refuse to Emperor Wei. No one could have kidnapped her from the heavily guarded palace, but the Shen family estate, where she lived, lacked any serious protection. A fortunate turn of events, indeed. The Emperor of Yuigui was usually indifferent to state affairs, but Gerel had no doubt that for Yangfei’s freedom, he would muster all the resolve required. Gerel saw Shen Yangfei ten days after sending Son Gyeo with the letters. By then, the Cheongju army had occupied the small city of Uji, where Son Gyeo brought his captive. The woman was beautiful, though not in the manner of Ryukoku’s fragile, emaciated maidens: she didn’t powder her face to snow-white perfection, she spoke and walked like a human being, not with whispers and mincing steps. She even managed to carry herself with dignity despite the torn and muddied hem of her official robes, her hands bound behind her back, and a vivid bruise blooming on her cheek. "She resisted," Son Gyeo explained, indicating the bruise. Gerel was once again grateful that Son Gyeo had the sense not to question the morality of his general’s actions. "I think her hands can be untied now," Gerel said. Son Gyeo obeyed, and Yangfei immediately crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. "I know who you are," she spat as soon as she saw him. Her tone made it abundantly clear: Who else could be capable of such a disgraceful act as kidnapping? "You’re observant." "And I know why you want me." "You’re also clever." "You won’t get what you want from the Emperor by abducting me!" "I disagree." "And what now? Are you going to lock me up with your soldiers?" Gerel had no desire to quarrel with Yangfei. Leaving her with the soldiers was, of course, out of the question — not out of any sense of nobility, but because the fewer people who saw or knew about her, the better. And he had neither the time nor the inclination to constantly supervise her himself. So he enlisted Jin-ho. Despite her fondness for gossip and pranks, Jin-ho could be serious when needed and knew how to keep a secret. Besides, she was a woman, and Gerel figured Yangfei might feel more at ease with her than under the guard of male soldiers. "I need you to watch her for a while," Gerel told Jin-ho. "You don’t need to keep her tied up all the time, but she must not leave the house." "She won’t," Jin-ho promised, shaking her head so that the beads woven into her hair clinked softly. It was risky to bring this girl here. But he could not think of a more effective means of influencing Yuigui's policy. Yangfei spent two weeks in Uji. She refused talking to Gerel, which suited him just fine, but she did speak with Jin-ho — though "exchanging insults" might be a more accurate description. Shen Yanfei clearly understood her value alive and unharmed, so she had no fear of death and showed no restraint in her sharp tongue. One day, as Gerel approached their tent, he heard them bickering from a distance. Yangfei had even stooped to addressing Jin-ho in her native tongue, because Jin-ho knew only a few words of Yuiguian. "...And your Emperor Wei is a fool," Jin-ho said heatedly. "Everyone says he’ll ruin the country sooner or later." The Emperor of the Land of the Tortoise was indeed known for his eccentricity and ineptitude. "He is not a fool," Yangfei retorted. "He simply has no interest in politics. Wei never wanted the throne. In Yuigui, many young men from wealthy families refuse to take part in family affairs and instead travel, study philosophy, or write poetry. It’s not his fault that fate chose a different path for him." These Yuiguians, Gerel thought. In any other country, an emperor who "simply had no interest in politics" wouldn’t have lived past the age of ten. "I came to see if you needed anything, Jin-ho," he said, parting the tent’s flap. "Or you, Lady Shen." Jin-ho shrugged. "No... Well, wait. Yangfei said she’s bored without books." Gerel raised an eyebrow at this sudden concern, but courteously offered, "I could bring you Yue-tzu’s treatise, On the Forms of Power and the Role of the Ruler through Popular Election. It’s quite the sensation right now." "I’ve read it. Nonsense, completely irrelevant to the audience it’s aimed at. I want nothing from you," Yangfei said icily. Gerel shrugged indifferently. "You know, Lady Shen, Jin-ho has a point. Your hapless admirer is the worst politician in Yuigui’s history. You can keep telling yourself you’re too smart for the imperial palace, but as the emperor’s wife, you could have done far more for your country than in your insignificant position…" Yangfei’s eyes blazed like an enraged panther’s. Jin-ho, meanwhile, looked intrigued. In the third week of her captivity, a small delegation arrived from Yuigui: modest, humble, without the fanfare of gongs, drums, or flags. Just the envoy and a few guards. The Yuiguian envoy wasted no time. As soon as he saw Gerel, he bowed briefly and said, "General, His Majesty Emperor Wei has agreed to your terms and asks that Lady Shen be released." He handed Gerel the documents. The imperial seal of Yuigui — a tortoise entwined with a snake — was unmistakable. The envoy kept his gaze averted; he knew the contents of the correspondence and found Gerel’s demands humiliating. But love, as they say, is blind. "I’m glad this was resolved peacefully," Gerel said politely. "Lady Shen is free to go." As the envoy moved to escort Yangfei away, she turned and shot Gerel a fiery look. "Thank you for your advice," she said coldly. "Perhaps I’ll follow it. I’ll marry the emperor and do everything in my power to strengthen my country and destroy yours." "Forgive me, Lady," the envoy said awkwardly, "but the emperor has just agreed to marry a princess of Cheongju. The marriage delegation is already in Pyeongwon." "You’re too late, Lady Shen," Gerel said politely. "You should have thought of this sooner." One of Gerel’s conditions for Yangfei’s release, listed in his letter to the Yuiguian emperor, was his immediate marriage to one of Tokhung’s daughters. Yuiguian law allowed the emperor only one wife — and she wielded significant power. It was an honest, solid, long-term alliance with Yuigui. Gerel was rather proud of himself for devising it. The strategy that had failed with Ryukoku would yield even greater benefits here. "May I ask which of Emperor Tokhung’s daughters will become our emperor’s bride?" the envoy asked dejectedly. Yangfei also looked at Gerel, and for the first time, he saw no anger in her eyes, only helplessness and confusion. He might have pitied her — if there weren’t far worse things in life than being unable to marry the man you loved. Jin-ho, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, finally spoke. "I will." Yangfei stared at her former jailer in stunned silence. Jin-ho repeated firmly, "It will be me. Sorry, Yangfei."