524.
Two days after the royal council ended, the court grew even more unsettled.
The faces of more than twenty officials stripped of rank vanished from the palace.
Their absence was filled by something subtler, stickier.
People feared the empty seats.
They feared what might be born in those vacancies.
Behind the main hall, senior civil officials argued in low voices.
The hall was the old skeleton of the state.
The words flowing through its bones gnawed at the country like worms.
"They say that Park Seong-jin is stirring up popular sentiment."
"His Majesty's trust is excessive."
"Order is shaken because of a single man."
"People are saying rents will be reduced."
"That talk is the seed of rebellion."
"They say he digs relentlessly into false accusations and hands people to the Mounted Police."
"Is he a soldier—or a secret inspector."
The voices were quiet, but the weight of hatred was heavier than the stone pillars.
In the end, one man submitted a memorial to the king.
Its surface was respectful.
Its edge was sharp.
"Park Seong-jin unsettles the people and disturbs the court.
If he moves popular sentiment, it becomes a sign that royal authority is under threat."
The king turned pages and said nothing for a time.
Then, in a low and measured voice, he spoke.
"To say that popular sentiment is shaken means that you have lost it."
Silence fell.
The officials flushed and avoided his gaze.
The king continued.
"Seong-jin's intent was to correct false accusations.
In doing so, procedure became clear."
He asked the memorialist quietly.
"If the Chief Councillor were struck by the blade of false accusation,
by what procedure would you govern."
The man swallowed.
"By law."
The king nodded.
"That is what Seong-jin did.
You merely watched it happen."
After the council dispersed, the ministers pretended to tidy their places and drifted away.
Several moved slowly toward the southern corridor of the palace.
Once outside the hall, cold wind brushed their faces.
The footsteps of three men slowed naturally as they walked in silence.
The first to speak was a junior official from the Ministry of Finance.
"Did you see His Majesty's bearing."
The assistant director from the Ministry of Rites beside him let out a long breath.
"With the king's resolve so firm, how can the court hold.
The land issue will only deepen."
The third man, an associate director from the Ministry of War, clasped his hands behind his back and scanned the surroundings.
"The problem is General Seong-jin.
With His Majesty shielding him, a single word from the general is starting to sound like policy."
The finance official shook his head.
"The general only peeled away the shell of false accusation."
The war official replied firmly.
"The court's gaze is already pushing him toward the center of popular sentiment.
When that gaze gathers, someone will forge justification to draw a blade."
A small bell rang at the end of the corridor—
palace attendants announcing preparations for the evening.
The three men's faces hardened.
The rites official spoke softly.
"They will try to bind His Majesty's hand before touching the general."
The war official agreed.
"They will first collapse the general's surroundings, blur his name, and erode the king's will."
The finance official asked bleakly.
"Where does it begin."
The war official looked toward the distant palace eaves.
"With rumors.
Sharper ones.
More malicious ones.
This time, rumors aimed not at the general alone, but at royal authority itself."
They looked at one another.
Deeper words were swallowed.
In that silence, the same premonition passed between them.
Gaegyeong's marketplace.
Dusk, when lanterns were being lit one by one.
In a narrow alley between the cloth shops and apothecaries, people began picking up strange stories.
At first, it was only a sentence or two.
Then came, "I heard."
Then, "Someone said."
The more the story was passed on, the larger it grew.
The larger it grew, the more people believed it.
The words took on substance, gained expressions and timetables.
"Have you heard.
They say His Majesty met General Park alone late into the night.
Military matters, they say.
If it were military business, the Grand General Kim would have sufficed.
Yet they called Park Seong-jin.
I hear he's even been entrusted with court affairs.
They say His Majesty intends to have General Park handle state business.
Some ambiguous edicts have come out lately too."
This had left the realm of idle marketplace talk.
The speed was different now.
It spread like wind—
from the market to the warehouse rows,
from there to taverns,
from taverns into nighttime gatherings of merchants.
Within a day, it had filled the city inside the four gates.
One decisive line was added.
"They say Park Seong-jin reviewed the draft of a new edict with His Majesty."
The truth was simple.
The king had asked about the format of an edict's preface.
Seong-jin had pointed out a single character.
A eunuch who saw the scene from afar added a few words.
Trying to avoid blame, he shifted his phrasing.
"I didn't see it myself, but…"
That tone lent the rumor strength.
Words stripped of responsibility travel farther.
Light words spread wider.
The next morning, on the road to court, ministers quickened their steps.
They avoided one another's eyes.
Only their faces hardened.
"They say His Majesty is handing part of state affairs to a military man.
That decision shakes the order of the court.
If this continues, military power will stand above the court.
If left unchecked, matters will grow."
No one offered evidence.
Those with vested interests do not need proof—
they need omens.
Once an omen appears, they nurture it into a crisis.
A Yuan envoy staying in Gaegyeong heard the news and reacted.
Envoy Zhao Yungil asked,
"Park Seong-jin—is that the commander who reorganized our troops in Jiangnan."
"Yes, that commander."
"His military merit is unquestionable.
If the Goryeo king entrusts him with state affairs—
this is something His Imperial Majesty will weigh when judging the stability of Goryeo's court."
Those words were copied directly into a report.
A single line of idle speculation stepped up to the threshold of interstate affairs.
A spark lit inside the court was poised to catch a diplomatic wind.
Around noon, a report reached the king.
"Your Majesty, senior ministers say repeatedly that a rumor has spread through the capital—
that you intend to transfer court authority to General Park."
The king frowned.
"Who spread such words."
"The source is unclear, but the speed is rapid.
It has spread beyond the city gates."
The king did not answer at once.
He adjusted his posture slowly.
When he spoke again, his words stood quietly on edge.
"…To say that I have handed court authority to Park Seong-jin
is also to insult me."
That afternoon, the rumor reached Park Seong-jin as well.
"General, some are saying that His Majesty trusts you and has entrusted you with governance."
Park Seong-jin stopped his breath for a moment.
He exhaled once and said lowly,
"…Madmen."
This was not rumor.
It was an attack.
On the surface, it seemed aimed at the court.
At its core, it shook the king's center.
The scheme carved his name into a blade.
If you curse the blade, the hilt trembles.
That tremor was what they were hunting.