517.the Empress Noguk.She was the Great Khan's aunt, a princess of the Yuan dynasty—now the queen of Goryeo.
Slow footsteps approached from across the cloud bridge.
Under the gentle glow of lantern light, silk hems brushed the ground.
It was the Empress Noguk.
She was the Great Khan's aunt, a princess of the Yuan dynasty—
now the queen of Goryeo.
A woman forced to watch the empire's trembling from afar.
She stopped, looked at the two men, and spoke.
"The limits you saw in the Jiangnan war—
what would Yuan need, if it were to endure?"
Her voice was calm.
The tremor within it could not be hidden.
Yuan was her homeland, and a home she could never return to.
Seongjin bowed deeply.
"Your Highness. I am a man of arms.
I lack both the ability and the standing to speak of imperial governance.
Nor should I."
Noguk shook her head.
"I only wish to hear how a collapsing empire appeared
to eyes that have crossed the battlefield."
Silence passed for a moment.
Seongjin spoke carefully.
"Many reforms would be required.
Without opening that path, it cannot continue.
One need only listen to a few farmers crying of hardship to know it.
Those in power close their eyes, shut their ears, and turn their heads away—
because reform runs counter to their interests.
Those who would preserve their own profit
even if the state itself collapses
are the ones leading the country.
How could reform ever succeed?"
Noguk slowly closed her eyes.
Whatever its name, there was no force there capable of changing the future.
Looking across the pond, she asked quietly,
"Is there no way to halt the current by which a nation collapses?"
Neither Seongjin nor the king answered.
They did not speak, yet all three knew.
The conversation spread through the court.
By the next morning, the words Seongjin had exchanged
with the king and the empress were already on everyone's lips.
It was hard to know who had let them slip—
likely attendants who stood nearby.
The ministers' reactions were harsh.
"A military officer speaking of institutions?"
"Discussing land policy?"
"An overreach."
"A sound land system that has endured for centuries—
what, exactly, is wrong with it?"
Seongjin had merely answered questions.
The ministers named it politics.
Their anger reached down to tax rights, private estates, tenant rents.
When the rice bowl shakes, the body reacts first.
It was not entirely fair to blame them.
Long ago, all land had been public land—
belonging to the state.
Chaos, wartime mobilization, privatization, and silent consent
had piled up to form the present system.
The structure had hardened over centuries.
Yet change had begun.
The matter had crossed the threshold of public discourse.
What had not been spoken began to be spoken.
Alongside condemnation, another current emerged.
Among scholars, literati, and local officials,
talk of land began to circulate.
Debate had begun.
That fact alone caused the system to shift, ever so slightly.
After the Palgwanhoe ended,
crossing the Yue Bridge,
Noguk listened long to the sound of water.
The Yuan she had known was already far away.
Seongjin's words lingered in her mind.
She did not ask further.
Even with a name, there was little that could be changed.
His words spread through the palace.
The criticism was fierce.
Yet the fact remained—
the issue of land reform had risen to the center.
No one could carry it out.
But the discussion did not stop.
Noguk later summoned Seongjin privately
and presented him with a bundle of gifts.
Seongjin asked,
"Your Highness—was there someone you sent to me?"
Noguk smiled, averting her gaze briefly.
"Her name is So-eun.
A child I brought with me.
She is upright in character; you may trust her.
There is no ill intent."
Seongjin nodded silently.
That day, So-eun was freed from servitude
and assigned to an inner post.
Just before leaving court,
Yun Dam tugged lightly at Seongjin's sleeve.
"What is this?"
"It's been a while—shouldn't you at least look pleased to see me?"
His tone was playful.
Seongjin burst out laughing.
The face that once seemed capable of collapsing the heavens
returned, for a moment, to that of an ordinary man.
A man who would not blink
even if tens of thousands died by a single plan—
now standing here, holding onto another.
Seongjin greeted him warmly.
"It's good to see you, Lord Yun.
This feels like you're poking my side just to force a bow."
He dropped into an empty chair by the railing.
"How have you been?
I hear you enjoy great favor from His Majesty."
Yun Dam answered, fatigue etched into his face.
"It's thanks to you, General.
Because of the help you gave,
His Majesty's favor is more than I deserve—
yet my ability cannot keep pace.
Each day is a struggle."
"Oh, come now.
I hear you're doing well," Seongjin said lightly.
Yun Dam shook his head firmly.
"There are no results. Only words."
Seongjin comforted him quietly.
"Results take time.
Expecting fruit the moment you begin is greed.
Do not rush. Take it one step at a time."
Yun Dam sighed.
"I know that… but…"
Comfort does not easily reach
one whose expression is already heavy.
Seongjin asked directly,
"Is there anything else troubling you?
If there's something I can help with, say so."
Yun Dam studied him for a moment,
then spoke in a low voice.
"If only someone like you were always at my side, General."
"Then ask properly," Seongjin replied.
"You can't use a butcher's blade to kill a chicken, can you—"
"Why not?
Want to wipe them all out?" Seongjin joked.
But what followed was far heavier.
"His Majesty wishes to pursue reform.
The officials block him at every turn.
Caught between them, I am truly struggling."
Seongjin felt the words wipe them out
rise to his lips—then disappear.
Words become seeds.
"There must be a wise path.
Untangle the knot, and a road appears."
Yun Dam's face twisted darkly.
"No road appears.
No matter how I calculate."
Seongjin's expression hardened.
"…Ah. Then the path is closed.
In that case, Goryeo will eventually walk
the same road Yuan did."
Yun Dam hurriedly said,
"But Goryeo has you, General Park.
It will not fall into civil war so easily."
"You flatter me too much," Seongjin said, brushing it off.
But Yun Dam did not smile.
He pulled his chair closer, into a small patch of shadow
beyond the court's gaze.
His eyes were serious.
"General. I will speak plainly.
The court is divided into two camps."
Seongjin raised his head.
"Two?"
"One group insists the king's reforms must be pushed through.
The other—powerful men who want no change at all."
Yun Dam swallowed, then added firmly,
"They fear you, General."
"Me?
Am I striking anyone?" Seongjin replied dryly.
Yun Dam smiled awkwardly and shook his head.
"The land reform conversation you had alone with His Majesty
has already spread.
Those dissatisfied with the king are furious,
saying, 'Are we to entrust the fate of the state
to an ignorant soldier?'"
Seongjin laughed coldly.
"I answered because I was asked.
Must I not speak at all?
Does that make me a babbler?"
"They want to separate you from His Majesty.
They fear your thoughts may influence him."
Seongjin stared at the railing, momentarily dazed,
then spoke softly.
"I have no desire to touch politics.
My duty is to block foreign enemies.
I wish to keep my distance from reform and the like.
A clumsy blade may fly anywhere.
Do not draw me into it.
Only if a blade is truly needed—
call me then."
Yun Dam replied quietly,
"A blade may truly be needed."
"Then I'll do it again.
What's so difficult about that?" Seongjin said, frowning slightly.
It was a casual remark,
but Yun Dam received it fully—
as though he were a man who would go all the way.
"Ah… why speak so harshly," Yun Dam murmured.
He had entered the palace and earned royal favor.
They had not met for some time,
and he had changed.
Circumstances had changed,
and the foreign stiffness he once carried was gone.
Yun Dam shook his head.
"Even if you do not think so,
they believe it to be true.
What matters to them is not fact,
but winds, tendencies, currents.
Those who have much
are always afraid.
They fear even making things better."
Silence passed.
From afar came the sound of wind
ringing the palace bell tower.
Yun Dam whispered cautiously,
"General.
If His Majesty attempts reform,
rebellion will surely follow.
They are men who would preserve their own profit
even if the state itself falls."
Seongjin's hand tightened on the railing.
"…Then I must stop it."
Yun Dam lifted his head, as if he had been waiting.
"That is what His Majesty hopes."
Civil war—again.
How many times had it been now?
That blood already flowed across his chest.
Unlike war, this felt like murder.
Those close to him would die.
Those bound by deep ties
would stand on the opposite hill.
Moments would come
when it would be impossible
to preserve human truth.
Seongjin's gaze wavered briefly—
then settled, firm and heavy.