Chapter 49 : Departure
Chapter 49: Departure
When we first got married, we promised to have children after Boknyeo turned twenty.
And before I knew it, four years had passed since our marriage, and Boknyeo had turned twenty.
“People around us have started saying things like, ‘Isn’t it about time to have a child?’ If a few more years pass without a child, they might even say, ‘Maybe he can’t get it up?’”
That was probably something they would ask me outright, not just gossip behind my back.
Goguryeo’s sexual openness was, in some ways, even more extreme than that of the 21st century.
Boknyeo giggled.
“I don’t really like hearing people say my husband is weak.”
“Hm….”
“And besides… you’re leaving for the North soon, aren’t you?”
She was right.
I didn’t know how many years it would take—what the maximum was.
But I knew the minimum.
‘At least three years.’
It was now the year 575, and Northern Zhou would march their troops south in 577 or 578.
Until then, I had to remain in the North.
Naturally, I had no intention of taking Boknyeo there with me.
“During the three years you attended the Taehak, we hardly saw each other. Just when I thought we’d finally have time together, now you’re heading North? I won’t be able to see you again. Of course, it’s only right for a man to set his ambition and move boldly forward, but I’m afraid people will look at me and whisper that I’m a widow. So…”
Boknyeo softly stepped closer to me.
“To stop them from saying such things, wouldn’t we need to have a child?”
Boknyeo gently closed her eyes.
Outside, sparrows chirped.
Sunlight slipped in through the doorframe.
What I saw before me were the traces of last night’s passion.
Boknyeo had fallen asleep next to me, a bit of drool escaping from her lips.
When I carefully stepped outside, I saw Yeombu.
“It would sound rather strange if I asked whether you slept well.”
Now that the house had expanded, Yeombu, too, lived here as part of my retinue.
As soon as he saw my face, he smiled faintly.
“This morning, the citizens of Pyeongyang asked me whether another watermill had been built.”
“Was it… really that loud?”
“Yes. As for breakfast… the Lady probably won’t be needing any.”
“Well, that’s true.”
Feeling embarrassed, I asked Yeombu,
“So, what were you doing this morning?”
“I was looking over the garage.”
There was no need to ask what kind of garage when we didn’t have automobiles.
After all, the Chinese character 車 originally meant cart, not car.
Yeombu explained,
“Now that you’ve become a Sohyeong, it’s only proper to have at least one cart in the garage.”
Just as 21st-century tycoons lined up imported cars for display, nobles of this era filled their garages with carts.
‘After all, carts were essential for nobles in the first place.’
The days of the Spring and Autumn period, when chariots thundered across battlefields, were long gone…
But carts had many other uses besides war.
A Porter truck wasn’t an armored vehicle either, but that didn’t make it useless in combat. (In the Middle East and Africa, they still used them in warfare.)
They were useful for carrying loads, or for quickly moving the wounded to the rear.
There were even servants dedicated to handling them.
So, now that I had become a Sohyeong, I officially brought in a cart to my garage.
“A cart, huh… it’s amazing.”
Looking at the cart, I felt an odd thrill.
Were men, regardless of time and place, simply obsessed with anything that had wheels?
It was probably similar to how a college graduate in the 21st century felt when gifted a Spark car from his parents.
It was pointless to dismiss carts as lesser than cars.
In this era, carts were more of a luxury than automobiles were in the 21st century.
For the simple reason that making wheels was ridiculously difficult.
It wasn’t easy to carve out 3.141592… by hand.
Pulleys, which could be cast, were simpler, but cart wheels had to be painstakingly carved round and smooth by skilled craftsmen.
‘Back in Gomchon, the only carts you could find were three or four worn-out freight carts.’
But now, my cart wasn’t a freight cart—it was a passenger cart that two or three people could ride in.
No, at this level, maybe I should call it a carriage.
“Of course, right now it’s just a cart. A canopy can only be added from the Elder rank, and bells from the Daega rank. Even the driver’s hat decorations or the cart’s size depend on rank…”
Just as house size in Goguryeo was determined by one’s position, cart options varied by status.
In modern terms, it was like saying, ‘Civil servants below grade 7 are not allowed to put jade mats in the driver’s seat.’
But that didn’t matter to me.
I had always believed nothing beat the beauty of the original design.
Honestly, I never understood what was so impressive about hanging bells in front of a carriage anyway.
“Can I ride it right away?”
“I’ve prepared it, but will you be driving it yourself?”
“I want to try driving it. I’ll need to practice if I’m taking it North.”
“Hm, that’s true. But you mustn’t go outside the house. Only Elders and above may ride carts past the palace gates. Now then, here’s how to harness the horses…”
Yeombu led out two horses from the stable and skillfully strapped them to the front of the cart.
They were newly acquired to pull the cart.
“Not hitching Bucephalus?”
“What? Who in the world would use a blooded stallion to pull a cart? Not even the Grand King would do such a thing.”
Yeombu reacted as if he’d just heard someone suggest making spicy stew with rockfish.
“Cart horses are trained in pairs of suitable size and pace, while a horse like Bucephalus is always raised strong to run alone. Now, would you like to try driving it?”
I nodded and climbed onto the cart.
“Go!”
“Heeeiing!”
The cart set off smoothly.
It didn’t rattle like the ones in Gomchon.
“These wheels seem really well made…”
“They’re top-quality, made by the Ministry of Carriages.”
“The Ministry of Carriages?”
That was the department that handled horses and carts.
Before his assignment as Gun’an Yoksa, Go San had been in charge of the Ministry of Carriages.
“So then…”
“Yes. It’s a gift from Go San.”
This man was surprisingly thoughtful.
Though Go San was a difficult figure, I decided to accept the gift gratefully.
There was never any fault in the gift itself.
Thus, with the Sword of the Horse given by Yeon Jayu at my side, I rode the cart gifted by Go San and circled the yard of my newly moved-in house.
All of these things seemed to define ‘me.’
Since the yard was small, it didn’t take long.
But I didn’t feel particularly disappointed.
Soon, I would have the chance to circle a much larger place.
After repairing the cart, I sparred with Yeombu three times.
Even then, Boknyeo still hadn’t woken up—last night must have been hard on her.
Anyway, I won all three sparring matches.
“You weren’t going easy on me, were you?”
“I wasn’t. Your Wild Goose stance is truly excellent.”
The Wild Goose stance sounded fancy, but in truth, it was a simple technique of striking the opponent’s sword outward with a wide swing to push it aside.
These days, it had become one of my new specialties.
“Since you have good strength, it works well even if the angle isn’t perfect. Do you have another technique you’re confident in?”
“I’ve gotten pretty good at the Body Press that my master taught me. Even if my opponent has the better angle, if I push down with strength, it works out somehow.”
“Strength and height are your strengths, Sir Ondal. Using them in such a way is truly excellent. Well then, let’s stop here for today.”
Yeombu sheathed his wooden sword.
I asked,
“…You don’t want to go another round?”
“You’re not a swordsman but a general, Sir Ondal. What more would be the point?”
Indeed, from here on, no matter how many more rounds we had, the victor would likely be Yeombu.
My swordsmanship was built around creating a few killer moves and repeating only those.
Someone of Yeombu’s level would already have figured out my range.
But there was no real need for me to learn new techniques.
As Yeombu had said, my path was that of a general leading armies and commanding battlefields, not that of a lone swordsman cutting through everything by himself.
“In the distant past, the Western Land’s Hegemon-King of Western Chu, Xiang Yu, only studied swordsmanship for three days, just enough to kill a single man.
The techniques he knew were probably only two or three in total.
But with his natural strength, he swung those two or three techniques hundreds of times, and left his name in history.”
Yeombu said,
“As this story shows, in battle it is often better to practice one technique a hundred times than to know a hundred techniques once.
Sir Ondal, you seem to be following that path well.”
“You flatter me.”
“And… may I see your dagger?”
“Here.”
“Hm, you should keep the dagger a little duller.
If you draw it in a hurry, you’ll cut your own hand.
To kill the enemy, it’s enough for just the tip to be sharp.”
Starting with my dagger, Yeombu gave me various pieces of advice he had learned from the battlefield.
“Always tighten your belt so the scabbard stays in the right position.”
“When placing your shield on the ground, always have the handle facing the sky.”
“Charging with words at an enemy holding a sword is dangerous.
A swordsman can roll beneath your spear and stab your horse’s belly.
If you must fight, shoot from afar with arrows or throw spears.”
“Even when your attack doesn’t land, or when you think your enemy is dead, never stop swinging your blade.
On the battlefield, it isn’t strange for even a beheaded enemy to still rush forward.
Don’t measure by whether the enemy lives or dies—always keep attacking.”
They might have seemed like minor details, but when there were many such details, it was easy to forget one or two.
And with Yeombu’s battlefield experience, he knew such details often meant the difference between life and death.
No doubt, Yeombu was secretly worried about me heading to the dangerous North.
“Sir Ondal.”
At that point, Yeombu quietly asked,
“Why do you not ask me to go with you? Is it because of my age?”
“Of course not.”
It wasn’t as though I hadn’t thought of it, but I soon gave up on the idea.
It wasn’t because he was over fifty.
He could still easily defeat a couple of young men, or even ten if armed.
But—
“There needs to be someone trustworthy left in Pyeongyang Fortress.”
I kept him here because of my family.
Boknyeo would be protected by Go Yangseong no matter what… but it was different for my mother and the people of Gomchon.
Not long ago, hadn’t that bastard Nak Sangtae come all the way to Gomchon?
And now, Elder Munso had even passed away.
“I, too, would feel safer knowing there’s at least one dependable man in Pyeongyang.”
Besides, on the battlefield, a servant’s duties weren’t fighting but caring for horses, cleaning dung, and doing errands.
That wasn’t a role fit for Yeombu.
He was my master.
“Instead, Master, would it be alright to ask you to select a reliable servant for me?”
“That much, of course, I must do.”
Truly, he was someone I could trust.
Thus, I spent the entire day with my master Yeombu, talking about war.
And a few days later.
I went to meet my other master.
“Elder, I’m a little late, aren’t I?”
I placed wine and roasted spareribs upon Munso’s grave.
It reminded me strongly of my father’s funeral.
As I stood there, Munso’s son approached from afar.
“…You came, Sir Ondal.”
“Yes. A bit late, wasn’t I?”
“Late? Not at all.”
Munso’s son, Mun Usik, was at least twenty years older than me.
Since Munso had died at quite an old age, it was only natural.
After Munso’s death, Mun Usik naturally inherited the Sohyeong position of Farming Scholar.
Beside me, he spoke gently.
“My greatest fortune, and my father’s as well, was meeting Sir Ondal’s household.”
“Why call me Sir Ondal? We are both Sohyeong.”
“How could we ever be the same? My father always said our household was retainers of the On family.
If not for you, Sir Ondal, how could I be standing here as I am?”
At his words, I bowed my head as well.
“It’s the same for me. If not for Elder Munso, life would have been unbearably difficult for both my mother and me.”
We had helped each other, and in turn, made each other better people.
It wasn’t only from falling off cliffs and finding hidden manuals that one gained fortune.
This, perhaps, was the true fortune.
After that, I went to Beomchon, which had become my hereditary village allotment.
There were not many self-cultivating farmers in my village who liked the idea of their place becoming a hereditary village allotment.
Having one more administrator brought with it frequent nuisances, and since an aristocratic official from outside now did the work that the prominent free villager had originally performed as the “village representative,” people felt awkward in many ways.
‘And no matter what countermeasures exist… if the allotment lord decided to act up, it would be only a matter of time before a hereditary village allotment fell into ruin.’
Because of that, hereditary village allotments were usually set as territories won in war, or were assigned to a person from the village when that person became an official; the Gomchon I received as my hereditary allotment belonged to the latter case.
But Beomchon welcomed me despite being neither of those two things.
They were the ones who had watched Gomchon, which I had developed as the head, with the most envy.
When I was choosing my hereditary village allotment, Beomchon had slyly said, ‘Shall we make it our village?’ so I could see that they had chosen me as their head.
So I also set an example as an aristocrat.
“Did you find anything unclear following the Agricultural Light Law?”
Questions poured out as if they had been waiting for me to ask.
“I am curious about the color of the soil; what exactly is black earth, and what is fine sandy loam?”
“They said it was a cold just warm enough to let ice start melting here; how cold is that, roughly?”
Most of the questions were about “color” or “temperature.”
In this era there were not even standardized units or the ability to attach photographs, so things like temperature or color could only be described abstractly, like ‘black as night’ or ‘cold enough to freeze water.’
That was the main reason books alone could not teach everything in this age.
Even if people read and followed the Agricultural Light Law the same way, the results of the harvest could differ greatly between a region that had at least one person who had learned the methods directly from me and a region with none.
Because of that, the people of Gomchon had become the number one talent pool that other regional nobles eyed covetously.
If even those who had learned from me only reached that level, the methods I demonstrated in person were needless to mention.
“Based on today’s weather, if it was a bit colder, dig one more handspan; if it was a bit warmer, dig one less handspan.”
“For the color, it is exactly this color. Remember it.”
I split my remaining time as finely as possible and taught the people of Beomchon again and again.
“Is this how it should be done?”
“You learn fast. That is correct.”
“These fertilizers are starting to attract earthworms; can we use them now?”
“They are still cooked on the outside but raw inside; it is best when the earthworms are appearing all the way to the core. Sweep through the pile and stir it once.”
“Understood, Ondal-nim!”
When I taught them the farming methods, they came to me and became followers.
So I learned how to handle carts properly, picked up battlefield tips from Yeombu, and spread the farming methods.
Time flowed on, and spring came.
When the barley sown last autumn had finished harvesting, Go San announced the end of my sweet vacation.
“Preparation to go north is complete. Ondal, start preparing.”
That meant it was time to go to the battlefield.
In the spring of 576, Goguryeo finally had the preparations needed to deal with refugees.
In the operation decided upon, the force heading north split into two groups, and Go San explained this part.
“One group will ship rice directly to Gun’an Fortress via sea routes. The other will start from Pyeongyang Fortress, pull carts, sweep through the north and west in a wide arc, and round up those deep in the territory like a reaper’s blade; call it the ‘낫질 작전’.”
“Which side are we taking?”
“Obviously the reaper side. Dealing with those already inside is far more important than waiting for those who might come.”
Just hearing it made the hardships obvious.
The newly promoted yoksa, Go San, looked up at the sky.
“This weather is perfect to depart. Then… we depart!”
Clatter—!
At Go San’s words, countless carts shook the earth and set off toward the north.
When I glanced back, Boknyeo had raised her hand shyly and waved to me with one hand resting on her lower belly.
Would it be a son, or a daughter?
Boknyeo said she hoped for a son who would resemble me.
We were of one mind.
So I hoped it would be a daughter.
1. People had an image that Xiang Yu fought well, but the record of his life said he had practiced swordplay for only three days.
Instead, he had said something like, ‘On the battlefield, killing one person is enough; I will learn how to kill a hundred,’ and focused solely on tactics and strategy.
Even so, Xiang Yu had become the very icon of a “powerful warrior” in China, so when describing a strong fighter people often said one was comparable to Xiang Yu or used the title “Little Hegemon,” and many depictions emphasized personal martial strength as well as military strategy.
He had learned little in martial arts but seemed to have been prodigiously gifted, so he had simply fought well.