Chapter 368. Taepyeong Tavern — Okjeong's Visit
From the second-floor window of Taepyeong Tavern, the streets of Liaoyang spread out below in a single view.
Snow had covered the city through the night and still had not stopped by midday.
Thick white lines rested along every tiled roof, while the narrow streets of the Southern Market showed dark only where people and horses had trampled through.
In the distance, the White Pagoda rose faintly through the falling snow.
Inside the tavern, it was warm.
Charcoal glowed red in the brazier, and wet outer garments and gloves were drying near the stove.
The smells of rice soup, tea, and boiled meat hung thickly through the room.
Youngwoo wanted to sink into the warmth and stay there for a long time.
Whenever someone opened the door, cold wind slipped through the gap, only to be swallowed almost immediately by the heat of the brazier.
Outside the window was an entirely different world.
People walking along the snowy streets hunched their shoulders against the cold.
Horses breathed out long clouds of white vapor.
Cartwheels creaked as they caught in the frozen mud, and merchants stood beneath the eaves rubbing their hands together.
Youngwoo sat by the window and watched.
The view before him was peaceful.
His mind was not.
If anything, the beauty of the scene felt almost treacherous.
Shouldn't the landscape, at least a little, reflect the misery of human beings and the society they had made?
Snow covered the blood.
It covered the footprints.
It seemed to cover even last night's assassination attempt and today's threats beneath a clean white layer.
But covering something did not make it disappear.
Beneath the snow, the stains, traces, and wounds remained.
A thought came to him.
If a life could be thought of as a road, at which fork had he taken the wrong one?
He had left Goryeo and gone to the Jurchen lands.
He had witnessed the founding of Jin.
He had helped the Balhae soldiers return to their homeland.
And now he sat in the middle of Liaoyang's politics and betrayal.
He had never chosen this road from the beginning.
He had simply taken one step after another until he arrived here.
Even if one entered the wrong road, one still had to keep walking.
Yet today even that thought felt empty.
Founding a country.
Reclaiming a homeland.
Saving the people.
All of them sounded noble enough.
And among those noble words, men easily drew swords, someone dreamed of a throne, and someone drilled holes in a ceiling to drip poison through.
Youngwoo wrapped both hands around the warm teacup.
The cup was warm in his palms.
Outside the window looked cold enough to freeze solid.
Somehow, that difference only made him feel emptier.
Perhaps people's declared causes and their true desires were just as far apart as the warmth inside this room and the bitter cold outside.
Several soldiers emerged through the snowfall and entered Taepyeong Tavern.
They brushed snow from their clothes, bowed in greeting, and quietly found seats.
Before long, hot bowls of rice soup would be set in front of them.
What they needed today was not the name of a country.
They needed a warm meal.
Youngwoo watched them and slowly exhaled.
It was an age that piled emptiness upon emptiness.
Even so, if someone could eat, warm his body, and live one more day, there was meaning in that.
And perhaps, to keep even that small meaning from being lost, Youngwoo would once again have to draw his sword.
Outside the window, Liaoyang continued turning white.
Youngwoo remained silent for a long time as he watched the snow-covered roofs, the frozen alleys, the distant hazy White Pagoda, and the low winter sky.
It was as though the city buried beneath snow had laid open the inside of his own heart.
He was staring blankly at the white city when someone came and sat across from him.
It was Okjeong.
Youngwoo blinked.
"Hm?"
Okjeong asked cautiously,
"May I sit here?"
"Of course. That is what the seat was made for. Besides, you have already sat down."
Okjeong looked out the window in silence for a while.
Snow lay across the rooftops and alleys, and white trails followed the footsteps of people moving through the city.
She spoke quietly.
"I never thought you would be this petty."
Youngwoo gave her a villainous grin.
"I am actually much worse. Ahaha."
Okjeong's face hardened.
"Could you please stop? We have mountains of work to do, but nothing is getting done because of you, Commander Yi."
Youngwoo immediately flared up.
"Was I the one who tried to assassinate someone? Was I the one who sent a large number of soldiers to their deaths? You cannot say a single word to the man who actually caused this, so why are you complaining to me?"
Okjeong clenched her teeth.
"That is public business. This is private revenge."
"If you smooth it over, they will do the same thing again. When you catch them, you have to crush the matter properly."
Okjeong spoke almost pleadingly.
"What crime has my father committed?"
Youngwoo answered instantly.
"The crime of trying to make some unworthy fool into a king."
Okjeong's eyes sharpened.
"Ah, so because you do not like him, you are allowed to belittle him like that?"
"Surely I am allowed the freedom to insult someone I dislike. Am I not even allowed that?"
"Why do you dislike him? You were not like this before."
"That was before he showed his true colors."
Youngwoo put down his spoon and looked straight at her.
"In any case, for the time being, do as I told you. If you do not, I will do it myself."
Okjeong let out a long breath.
"My goodness. How frightening."
"I am doing this so you will be frightened."
Okjeong brought her hands together.
The ring she had shown him the day before was still on her finger.
They were the hands of someone accustomed to a bow, so they were not entirely delicate.
Even so, they looked exhausted now.
"I am asking you. Please stop after you have made your point. Everyone is suffering."
Youngwoo shook his head.
"They are still alive, aren't they?"
Okjeong froze.
"What? What did you just say? Are you planning to kill them?"
"I declared that if this is not dealt with by tomorrow, I will administer justice myself. For the moment, I intend to kill the lot of them."
"Ahhh, why in the world?"
Her voice trembled.
Whether from anger or fear—or both—was hard to tell.
Youngwoo spoke quietly.
"Do not try to persuade me. Persuade them instead. Tell them to put aside their hunger for power and work for their homeland and their people."
Okjeong dragged both hands down her face.
"Ahhh... You really have made up your mind."
"I have not even started."
"And what about all those deaths?"
"Did I kill them? They attacked me."
Okjeong had nothing to say.
There was not the slightest falsehood in his words.
She simply wished he would show the composure and generosity of the stronger man.
Instead, he seemed determined to demand an equal price, just like any ordinary person.
Youngwoo changed the subject.
"You reviewed the ten points I gave you, did you not?"
Okjeong answered coldly.
"They are impossible."
Youngwoo replied immediately.
"Then you will fail."
Resistance rose again in her face.
She remembered the ten points Youngwoo had written down.
Every one of them was correct.
That was why they made her angrier.
Sometimes the truth cornered a person more cruelly than a lie.
"Who in the world establishes a country only after preparing all of that?"
Youngwoo pushed his bowl aside.
"That is why I am telling you not to establish one."
"Then how long are Balhae people supposed to live beneath someone else?"
"That is a question to ask after they survive."
Okjeong bit her lip.
"Commander Yi, you are too cold."
Youngwoo gave a bitter smile.
"Cold words sometimes keep people alive. Hot words kill people very easily."
For a while, neither spoke.
Servers moved quickly among the soldiers.
They filled large bowls with rice soup, steamed dumplings, and carried plates of meat.
Taepyeong Tavern bustled with postwar hunger and a brief sense of relief.
Okjeong watched the scene and spoke quietly.
"These people are Balhae too."
"I know."
"They must want a country of their own."
"They want food today."
Okjeong glared at him.
Youngwoo did not look away.
"They have to eat today and still be alive tomorrow before they can talk about a country the day after. If you put the order wrong, those people will bleed again."
Okjeong could not answer.
It was not that she had nothing to say.
She looked like she had too many answers and did not know which one to begin with.
Youngwoo's voice softened slightly.
"If you want General Go to live, keep him from talking about becoming king. If you want your father to live, empty the estate properly and hand over whoever was behind the assassination. If you want Liaoyang to survive, send an envoy to Jin, count the grain, repair the gates, and keep the markets open."
Okjeong closed her eyes.
Youngwoo continued.
"And if you want to save yourself, Lady Okjeong, do not tie your fiancé, your homeland, and your dream of becoming queen into one thing. If one collapses, everything will fall with it."
Okjeong opened her eyes.
The words had gone too deep.
She did not know whether to become angry, cry, or laugh them off.
She asked,
"Are you really not coming back?"
"That house has too many holes in the ceiling."
Okjeong's face stiffened again.
Youngwoo gave her a light military salute.
"Give me an answer today. Either you arrest the assassins, or I will."
Then he walked out of Taepyeong Tavern.
The door opened, and cold wind and the pale light of snow swept inside.
Okjeong remained sitting there for a long time.
In the crowded tavern, she looked like the only person left alone in the middle of the snow-covered city.