648.A Letter from Yoon Dam
No sooner had the letter been sent than a reply from Yoon Dam arrived.
The prose was clear.
The core stood straight and unbent.
He did not rush to touch what could not yet be done.
The line was always observed.
A Letter from Yoon Dam
Respectfully submitted.
I now fully apprehend the urgency with which Your Excellency summoned me.
There are matters that cannot be resolved even by force, and there are times when force grows so great that it becomes, in itself, difficult to wield.
I beg pardon that the affairs of Tsushima and the administration of Iki Island have proceeded more slowly than desired.
Regardless of the conditions on the mainland, I am devoting all efforts to establishing permanent measures so that Tsushima and Iki may never again serve as stepping stones for depredation.
Politics and economy, customs and moral instruction, are not formed by a handful of legal clauses.
What must ripen requires time, and what is imposed by compulsion inevitably recoils.
In lands where the majority cannot read, how many will truly grasp our intent no matter how many proclamations we post or orders we issue?
To ask for the will of the people where no public discourse exists is, in truth, no more than striking an empty vessel.
It is, however, fortunate that at this very moment, raids by the wako have vanished from the territory of Goryeo.
This is because Your Excellency's authority has carried across the sea.
Even should I hasten all matters to their utmost, it would seem that spring must arrive before I may conclude affairs here and proceed in person to Karatsu.
That said, if Wa is truly a land where all things are governed by military force for the sake of war, would it not, paradoxically, be the easiest land for a master who has entered the realm of transformation to handle?
If there is nothing to persuade, nothing to deliberate, and all collapses the moment one strikes it down, how simple a matter that would be.
Moreover, divided into more than sixty domains, bound by weak ties, and placing profit before righteousness, they are—if I may speak plainly—easy prey.
Easier still are those who covet such prey: give what must be given, take what must be taken, and what cause have they to feel responsibility?
I find myself wondering whether Your Excellency may, in fact, find life there more agreeable.
It is a people long accustomed to rule by force.
Do not seek to govern them in haste; rather, hold fast only to the hardship borne by the common folk.
When survival itself is precarious, and all that is taken is used to raise warriors and sustain armies, how could their lives not be harsh?
Those who trample good people to satisfy their own desires—
even if they were swept away, Heaven would not lay blame.
I entreat Your Excellency not to press your intent too hastily, but to wait until the time has fully ripened.
Respectfully submitted,
Yoon Dam
Park Seong-jin showed Yoon Dam's letter to Song I-jeong.
Song I-jeong nodded in agreement.
He said he had harbored similar thoughts himself—
thoughts that had not yet taken form as words.
He went on to suggest summoning Song I-sul as well.
Having lived through several affairs, Song I-jeong said, he had begun to measure the limits of his own experience.
His training in the mountains had not been in vain, but his experience in confronting the world's problems directly remained shallow.
Song I-sul, being versed in both civil and military matters, might be better suited to this situation.
Park Seong-jin fell silent for a moment.
He recalled why Song I-sul had been left behind in Gaegyeong.
Wa was a problem.
But Goryeo was also a problem.
There was the matter of the retainers of the Yuan faction.
There was the land question.
The court moved slowly before these issues.
Land consolidation worsened by the day.
Those who held profit stood at the center of governance.
Bypassing them meant reform would never rise to the lips.
There were officials selected through the examinations,
but their power was slight.
This was a time rife with sudden variables.
Assassination became a path.
Rebellion became a path.
That was why Song I-sul had been kept in Gaegyeong.
If one pulled people away simply because matters here were difficult, the flow itself could be disrupted.
Park Seong-jin appreciated Song I-jeong's humility.
He told him not to blame himself.
This was not a problem of a state with an answer already in place.
Park Seong-jin added something else.
Even under oppressive rule, he said, the goodness and beauty of the people remained.
People were not the entirety of the problem.
Understanding life itself mattered.
Only then did Song I-jeong feel he understood.
He understood why Park Seong-jin lived in the relay village.
He understood why Park Seong-jin stood one step aside from the center of power.
Yoon Dam had not yet arrived.
The immediate problems would have to be solved alone.
The matter before them now was the Seven States.
They were gathering.
They were preparing.
They were confirming one another.
Park Seong-jin knew that a path could not be found by sitting and thinking alone.
One had to move one's body for the road to reveal itself.
He said he would make a circuit.
The next destination was already decided.
Dejima, Nagasaki.
Winter was drawing to an end.
Beyond the sea, another road was opening.
He stopped at Hirado only briefly.
There was a report that a Goryeo official dispatched from the homeland was governing there.
Park Seong-jin remembered the request and the dispatch clearly.
He deliberately did not seek him out for several days.
When Park Seong-jin finally ascended Hirado Castle, an unfamiliar official appeared before the main hall of the honmaru.
It was a face he did not recognize.
From the first impression, his heart felt uneasy.
He knew nothing of physiognomy, but unease came first.
When Park Seong-jin attempted to enter, a soldier blocked his way.
They said the official was engaged in duties.
When Park Seong-jin asked if he might wait, they asked whom they should announce.
"Park Seong-jin," he replied.
The man did not recognize his face.
He did not know his post.
He did not even seem to know why a Goryeo administrator was stationed in this castle.
Park Seong-jin thought that, for someone newly assigned, that ignorance might even be preferable.
When told that the message would be delivered, Park Seong-jin nodded and turned away.
He went to a place overlooking the sea and let the wind strike his face.
Then hurried footsteps approached from behind.
"Oh! We greet Lord Jungnang."
A man stood there, bowing deeply.
"So you are the new administrator here."
"I am the county magistrate. In Wa, they call the post bugyō,"
he added, explaining that it meant an official of a directly governed territory.
He gave his name.
Yi Baek-chung.
When he mentioned having once served as Vice Director of the Office of Royal Decrees, an old assessment flickered through Park Seong-jin's memory.
Broad connections.
Loquacious.
Fond of manipulation behind the scenes.
Park Seong-jin understood why the face had not come to mind.
This man had always remained in the background.
Yi Baek-chung lowered himself further.
He said he had been dismissed for failing to perform his duties properly, then reinstated for this task.
There were too few people, so even those once dismissed were being used again.
It was not a good sign.
Still, the fact that someone capable had been chosen for the far end of Wa was telling.
Park Seong-jin smiled lightly and offered a greeting.
He said there would be many difficulties ahead and asked for his cooperation.
Yi Baek-chung bowed repeatedly.
He said Park Seong-jin had already done so much that it was he who ought to beg for assistance.
Park Seong-jin listened.
He glimpsed the tasks that would soon fall upon this man.
He swallowed his words.
He took out a sheet of paper he had kept since the assault on Karatsu Castle.
He said it was a document obtained at that time.
It had the tasks well organized and would be helpful for getting started.
Yi Baek-chung bent at the waist, nearly folding in half.
He said he did not know where to put himself for gratitude.
Park Seong-jin saw the habits of a talkative man.
He judged that such a man was better than none.
When Yi Baek-chung asked what had brought him today, Park Seong-jin suggested they move elsewhere.
They sat side by side where the sea lay open before them.
When Park Seong-jin asked whether the climb was difficult, Yi Baek-chung nodded.
He said that going down and coming back up was exhausting and that a path should be opened so horses could pass.
Park Seong-jin nodded and moved to the point.
"When this place was swept, the land belonged to the Matsura clan, did it not?"
"Yes. The Matsura clan."
Park Seong-jin spoke of something he had not addressed at the time.
The Matsura men who had not been here.
He said he had expected them to appear eventually, but they had not.
The Matsura were a naval group.
Their lineage was divided into forty-eight branches.
Had they been present, he would have dealt with them.
Since they were absent, there was little to be done.
Park Seong-jin nodded.
"Look into them. They are the ones seeking to reclaim this place. The Matsura."
"Yes. But today, regarding that matter—"
"I wanted to see where they went."
He added that it might be an unreasonable question to ask of someone newly arrived.
Yi Baek-chung said he would investigate and report later.
Park Seong-jin named a place.
Ōmura of Sonogi in Hizen.
He wondered if they had gone there.
When warriors lost their footing, they tended to move into neighboring domains.
They sought positions as retainers.
Those driven out here were likely to have attached themselves to adjacent territories.
The Matsura were one axis of the wako.
The very name "Matsura" was a composite.
They were not under strict clan control, but bound together by alliance.
It was necessary to learn who now held the position of sōryō, the clan head.
Park Seong-jin said the Matsura clan continued to trouble his thoughts as he prepared to leave.
Yi Baek-chung bowed and said he would see to it.