Chapter 139 — Cultural Differences (2)
For the moment, it was necessary to prevent problems from arising.
But the language used in the army was often blunt and exposed.
A single careless remark could wound their pride.
In a way, pride was all they had.
It was that pride alone that allowed them to survive on this harsh continent.
They endured the indifference of nature, did not see their poverty as shameful, and carved out their lives with resilience.
Yeongu sat together with So Cheolryong and the others.
"How are we supposed to handle this?"
So Cheolryong immediately agreed.
"Words that mean nothing to us become problems here."
After becoming a commander, he spoke more formally.
Though there was more than a ten-year age difference, he now clearly used honorifics.
When he did so, Yeongu's former comrades followed without question.
Gyeongtaek spoke.
"This is not only our problem. In places where multiple tribes come together, this is bound to happen. It is not simply a matter of right or wrong."
Yeongu clicked his tongue in irritation.
"Fine, then what do we do? You say we should respect them, but does that solve anything? Last night someone came asking for a duel. I smashed his head in. I don't even know if he's alright."
So Cheolun said,
"The army must be one. Even if language and customs differ, the command must be one."
"Exactly. That's what I'm saying. But they keep talking about cultural differences."
"It's not just that the army must be one—command must be one. When advancing, some cannot rush forward while others fall back. If ordered to repair, they must repair. If they say, 'We do not do that,' then that is not an army—it is a tribe clinging to its customs. I cannot be the only one bringing slaves to do the repairs."
"Right, exactly."
As someone finally agreed with him, Yeongu's face brightened.
He had likely been frowning all day.
"In severe cases, those who think alike may even desert. There are quite a few of them. They've just been holding back."
"So what do we do?"
"Even if the language differs, the command—the banner—must be the same."
"So what do we do?"
Pressing Gyeongtaek further would not help.
Yeongu smacked his lips and ordered that Kim Yungyeong be brought.
Gyeongtaek hesitated.
"That gentleman is very busy. I think he stayed up all night yesterday."
"Then he's incompetent."
Gyeongtaek pushed too far.
"Aren't we even more incompetent?"
"You little—!"
Gyeongtaek ran.
As he ran, he shouted,
"Understood! I'll bring him! Please don't strike soldiers for personal reasons!"
"Ha…"
He ran while shouting, shouting while running.
Now he knew exactly when the fist would come flying.
After about a quarter of an hour, the supposedly busy Kim Yungyeong arrived.
"Oh ho ho, what an honor. That the commander of the Great Khan's army would summon someone as insignificant as me."
His words carried weight.
It seemed he still remembered being told not to interfere in military matters.
Gyeongtaek must have explained everything on the way.
He worked slowly, but he explained quickly.
Kim Yungyeong sat down and looked at the Goryeo officers.
Their intentions were written on their faces.
They clearly wanted to command the Jurchen army in their own way.
It was understandable—but would it work?
"I cannot solve this problem for you. But I can point out several directions. Finding concrete solutions is your task. By now, you must have already experienced a few incidents. It hasn't escalated to fistfights, has it?"
He clearly knew about the Ahalli incident.
There were already rumors—nose bleeding, fainting, waking up after a full hour.
Though it wasn't Yeongu's fault, he had ended up looking like the villain.
"Just say it. This is suffocating."
"I will only speak of principles. First, command in an army must be one. It cannot differ. Even if language, customs, and attire vary, they must be unified. Drum signals, flags, and non-verbal systems must replace those differences."
A learned man was indeed different.
Everyone nodded at the idea of non-verbal command.
"In the Goryeo army, you might use insults—but not here. These are people of strong pride, leaders among their people."
As the group nodded, he continued.
"Second—this is something I also considered—many remain grouped by tribe. In harsher terms, factions. You must mix them. Some will insist on following only their tribal chief. That is why you left them as they are. Mix them. Form mixed units, replace commanders. In battle and training, they must depend on one another to survive."
People truly must learn.
Yeongu understood the idea, but could not express it like this.
"Yes, exactly. That's what I tried to do, but the resistance was too strong."
"Third, as you already know—collective responsibility. Rewards are shared, and punishment is shared. If one man is punished alone, he becomes an enemy. Punish the entire unit. If one fails, all suffer. That is the idea. How does the Goryeo army handle it?"
Cheolun answered,
"We strike our heads."
"Your heads?"
"How grotesque… though painful."
Cheolun touched his forehead.
"It's reached the point where even a hammer wouldn't hurt."
Kim Yungyeong laughed brightly.
"Ha ha ha, that is inhuman. Striking one's own head… Well, moving on."
Yeongu struggled to keep up.
"Hurry, continue. It's hard to remember."
"I will write it down afterward."
"Ah, right. Writing it down works."
He exclaimed as if discovering something new, though he did not write it himself.
Yeongu gestured with his chin, and Gyeongtaek reluctantly took notes.
Behind them, Amokjin looked elsewhere.
It was a discussion, nothing more.
Pointing that out would only delay things.
"Fourth, do not force differences into sameness. This requires more thought, but you can treat them as roles. Goryeo soldiers may be suited to crossbows. Tribes poor at riding should be assigned as shield-bearers. Teaching them to ride would take months. Specialists should be distributed across units. It is difficult, but differences can be turned into roles."
"What about those bastards who don't listen?"
Kim Yungyeong smirked.
"Perhaps they should be boiled alive."
Laughter spread through the group.
"You must use strengths and advantages to create cooperation. It is good if everyone can do the same thing well, but better if each excels at different things so that the whole becomes stronger. That is what it means to define roles. A fast young Jurchen—poor at swordsmanship—should not be used as a swordsman, but as a scout. Like that. I do not know enough of actual military operations to go further."
"Is that all?"
"No, there is much more. You need shared experience. They likely only come together in battle or training. Make them share more. This is the most important. Experience is faster than words. Eat together, sleep together, be punished together—and survive the same battles together. That is what people call 'mixing blood.' Like you all have. When Park Geunsu betrayed you, didn't you say you would die in his place?"
"What? When did I ever—"
Yeongu tried to take it back, but the man already knew.
Park Geunsu must have told him.
So Cheolryong asked,
"Wait—did General Park betray you?"
"No, nothing like that. Just something similar."
Kim Yungyeong continued,
"That is what it means to mix blood. Create shared experience. Do not let them remain separate and only gather for training. Create situations where they must be together."
"Thank you for your words."
But he was not finished.
"There is more, but I will give two final points."
Yeongu smacked his lips.
His head was already full from what he had heard.
"Two more?"
"A commander must be fair. Emphasize this strongly. In this situation, fairness is essential. It is not easy. Without it, one is not fit to command."
A sigh spread through the room.
"Lastly—create a shared culture. If cultures differ, create a new one. The culture of the army itself."
It was truly good advice.
Yeongu realized he had done none of it.
He placed both hands on the ground and bowed halfway in gratitude.
He lowered himself deeply.
This is why people must learn.
Even knowing, one cannot do easily—what of not knowing at all?
"Thank you for your teaching. We have truly been fools."
Kim Yungyeong smiled faintly.
"Ha ha, for you to value the words of a mere book reader—thank you. The honor is mine."
Yeongu was impressed.
This was how a person should be—yet here they were struggling in the mud.
Yeongu implemented every one of Kim Yungyeong's suggestions.
Not a single one was omitted.
After seeing him off to the door, he turned to Gyeongtaek.
"Did you write it down?"
"Yes… but it's a bit difficult."
"Let me see."
It was barely two lines.
"You little bastard!"
Yeongu shouted, and Gyeongtaek bolted like the wind.
"I'll go write it properly! I can't handle difficult words—I'll copy it down!"
Though it felt like profound teaching, only two of the six or seven points remained in memory.
Yeongu kicked Gyeongtaek's backside and sent him off.
Soon, a neatly written copy returned.
A man must write well.
Even his character shows in it.
Yeongu ordered it to be copied exactly, summoned the commanders, handed it out, and told them to memorize it.
What he himself could not memorize, he made others memorize.