Chapter 67 : The Path to Unity (2)
Chapter 67: The Path to Unity (2)
The relationship between Go San and me was truly ambiguous.
To start, we were both part of the Domestic Fortress Faction.
And currently, regardless of whether it was the Domestic Fortress or Pyeongyang Faction, both leaned heavily towards the Royalist tendency.
There was no need to even mention Pyeongyang Fortress… and as for the Domestic Fortress Faction, it was King Go Yangseong himself who had brought them back after the faction had been shattered due to the Rebellion of Chugun and Segun.
Of course, this alone wasn’t reason enough to stop us from fighting. If a few shared traits were all it took to end conflicts between people, the world would’ve long become a “We Are the World”.
The relationship between Go San and me, as fellow members of the Domestic Fortress Faction, was just like that.
For starters, our support bases were different.
I had formed a younger faction that spanned even the Pyeongyang Faction, centered around ambitious young allies.
Most were from humble origins like myself, or even if their background was decent, they were often not the eldest son, thus coming from collateral lines who couldn’t inherit tax villages.
A kind of “minor line”.
In contrast, Go San’s base consisted of “majors”.
Staunch nobles of Domestic Fortress who had not yet forgotten the humiliation from the Pyeongyang Faction, and eldest sons entitled to inherit tax villages formed the backbone of his support.
Hence, I was the “pro-Pyeongyang Domestic Fortress Faction”,
While Go San represented the “anti-Pyeongyang Domestic Fortress Faction”.
However, though our supporters differed, we weren’t at the level of wanting to stab each other.
“Because the Domestic Fortress Faction needs both Go San and me.”
Abandon me?
Then would the ancestors provide you with my ginseng and farming methods?
Abandon Go San?
Aren’t you afraid of the Upper Go Clan, which has exerted influence over the North for hundreds of years?
…That kind of feeling.
To assess our relationship, we were like internal candidates vying for the position of “Domestic Fortress Faction’s top leader”.
Go San looked at me and said,
“Domestic Fortress needs you. So, just as you said, the war has broken out. The order of the North is in chaos now, and this is exactly when Domestic Fortress must unite more strongly.”
In other words… he wanted to bring me in as his direct subordinate, keep me under his thumb in the North, while he went down to Pyeongyang and absorbed my power base.
‘The chance that I could reverse the tide and wipe out Go San’s forces in the North… is, honestly, virtually nil.’
Centuries of tradition and old grudges weren’t things I could overturn alone. I was strongest in Pyeongyang, where I had King Go Yangseong’s backing.
So basically, he was saying: “Abandon your power and take the wealth instead.” And this wealth was enormous.
“I’ll give you a tax village of 500 households, along with all the lands attached. Naturally, there won’t be any annoying self-cultivating farmers in that mix. They’ll all be from the lower household class.”
Lower households and tax villages. Saying “a 500-household tax village is enormous” might be hard to grasp.
But if you knew that Yeon Namsaeng, after betraying Goguryeo and selling it out to the Tang dynasty, was given a 3,000-household tax village, then you could appreciate the scale of this.
500 households would be one-sixth the price of betraying Goguryeo.
The scale itself was astounding, but the fact that it was a tax village was even more shocking.
‘Even Go Heul didn’t receive a tax village.’
In the early days of Goguryeo, when its political system was underdeveloped and land surveys were difficult, it was common to grant tax villages to meritorious retainers to govern nearby areas.
But now that royal authority had strengthened and political order had been established, tax villages had become something that even Go Heul couldn’t receive despite his merits.
And understandably so.
Land and tenant farmers that could be passed down for generations were unreasonable rights. For a king, the more of these that existed, the more of a headache it became.
Thus, tax villages had turned into rights that were impossible to obtain even if one wished for them… meaning Go San’s offer wasn’t a small matter.
A tax village was a “constant source of income”, comparable to a corporation in the 21st century.
And unlike modern companies, the farmland of this era was a virtually fail-proof resource.
With 500 households, that meant at least 2,000 people at minimum—he was basically offering me a rock-solid company with 2,000 employees.
And since they were all from the lower household class, I could run it like a black company if I wanted.
This was a barren land—if people were driven out of their village, their options were to become slaves to the Malgal, be eaten by tigers, or freeze to death like the leopards of Kilimanjaro.
Just like Edo-period Japan, I could give them just enough not to die and pocket the rest, and it wouldn’t be seen as wrong.
In effect, it was akin to receiving a miniature country composed of 500 households.
“You have a child. If that child marries into our family, it wouldn’t be difficult.”
“Onan is only two years old.”
“My daughter is exactly three. There’s no issue if they marry. Besides, since you’re also from the Domestic Fortress Faction, you have sufficient justification to remain in the North, don’t you?”
Go San said,
“Ondal, I want my child and their child to live with lower households under them. This is the right our ancestors received when the Grand Kings granted them tax villages, and I’m here to ensure that right is not threatened.”
That was true.
Even King Jangsu, who reigned for as long as the combined rule of King Yeongjo and his son and grandson in Joseon, and who came closest to absolute monarchy in Goguryeo, couldn’t lay a hand on the Domestic Fortress Faction’s tax villages.
“And if you come with me, you can enjoy the same life. Eternal peace.”
So, what Go San had concluded was that I was going wild because I didn’t have a tax village.
He’d give me a slice of tax village pie, and I could enjoy the delightful seated person lifestyle along with them.
This was the greatest appeasement Go San could offer.
But I shook my head.
“Even the Grand King cannot touch tax villages. That may be true. But what about the Emperor? Can the Western Land’s Emperor not seize tax villages?”
“The Emperor? What do you mean?”
“If Goguryeo ceases to exist, then there won’t be tax villages either.”
That was the real problem.
The part about “until Goguryeo collapses”.
Go San spoke of “forever”, but I knew the exact number.
In the original history, Goguryeo would fall in 90 years. If Goguryeo didn’t change, then neither would history.
“In my view, Goguryeo right now is… no, it’s like a pouch of flame before the storm. If the Domestic Fortress and Pyeongyang factions continue to clash, the flame will surely go out. In such a case, what value would 500 households of tax village have?”
Honestly, if this were early Goguryeo…
No, even if this were King Gwanggaeto’s era and Goguryeo had 200 years left, I might’ve accepted the offer.
But right now, Goguryeo only had 90 years left. Only 30 years remained before the Sui dynasty would wreak havoc in the North. Who was handing me stocks on the verge of delisting?
Frankly, at this rate, my own son or grandson would live through that era in my lifetime. Why would I sell my soul for 500 households of tax village?
At my words, Go San shook his head.
“That’s nonsense. We won this war, so they now know they cannot touch us carelessly. You know the precedent of the old Northern Wei, don’t you? A tiger may chase a wolf, but never a bear—not because the bear is stronger, but because of the risk.”
Go San believed that the war could still be avoided.
One couldn’t say this was baseless or that he had his head in the clouds. Go San had his reasons too.
“For the past 200 years, the Western Land has had no conflict with Goguryeo. That’s because there’s been no reason to fight.”
“What about the Han dynasty? Shortly after taking over Chu, they destroyed Joseon and set up the Four Han Commanderies. Coincidentally, Joseon also operated around Pyeongyang, Liaoxi, and Liaodong. Isn’t the situation remarkably similar?”
“Joseon was too weak. That’s why it fell. Who wouldn’t go for easy prey? But we’ve proven through this war that we’re not easy prey. If they invade us, they’ll only suffer losses.”
Go San’s words weren’t wrong either.
A war with Goguryeo, even if won, would inevitably bring more loss than gain. Just crunching the numbers would lead to that obvious conclusion. It’s a guaranteed deficit.
"Moreover, if Goryeo ceases to exist, who will govern the surrounding tribes nearby? The Western Land is safe because Goryeo exists."
That was another familiar line.
The idea being, had Goguryeo remained, it would have kept the Khitan and Malgal in check, so the fall of Goguryeo was actually a misstep even for the Central Plains.
I believed there was some merit in that view.
After all, a nation like Goguryeo, which had already solidified its statehood, had no reason to take the kind of high-risk gamble to sweep through the North China Plain like the Mongols or the Jin dynasty.
But as someone from the future, I knew how the Western Land—namely the Central Plains—truly felt about Manchuria and the steppe.
‘If I had to put it plainly, they found it “f***ing irritating.”’
From the Western Land’s perspective, it was unbearable to just watch some wild, horse-riding lunatics from across the Liao River slowly building their power.
Just seeing it would be aggravating. Like a large house spider lurking somewhere in your room.
And knowing it’s not dangerous, that it eats pests, and that you’re better off leaving it alone—that sort of knowledge becomes useless.
If it’s there, even the faintest sound makes you lose sleep, and stepping on a clump of fur might have you screaming, thinking it’s the spider.
Screw calculations and logic—just having a palm-sized spider near you keeps your nerves on edge until you smash it. Only then can you rest.
That’s why even rulers deemed wise, like Emperor Wen of Sui (Yang Jian) or Emperor Taizong (Li Shimin), not just madmen like Emperor Yang of Sui (Yang Guang), constantly targeted Goguryeo.
So I said,
"I don’t believe now is the time for the Domestic Fortress Faction to unite among itself. This is the time when all nobles of Goryeo must unite. War will come."
"It will, you say."
"Yes. It’s inevitable. Protecting the Domestic Fortress Faction now doesn’t mean preventing war—it means setting aside factions and preparing for the war together."
Anyone could say that.
But my words were different.
Words heavily depend on context.
"You’re not accepting even 500 households?"
Just like how empty talk differs from words accompanied by real stakes, the weight of rejecting immediate profit was fundamentally different.
I spoke firmly.
"I’ve always been certain. Just like with this war against Northern Zhou."
"Certainty, huh… Seems too reckless for a young man—except, we’re not all that different in age. Then, how exactly do you plan to unite Pyeongyang and the Domestic Fortress? Don’t tell me you’ll grovel… ah, or are you planning to use war to consolidate national sentiment?"
"That’s only a temporary measure."
I met Go San’s eyes and said confidently,
"The best way to become one is for both sides to make concessions and uphold honor. And after surveying the North, I’ve realized what needs to be addressed first. Chief among them… is the Malgal problem."
"The Malgal?"
Go San’s expression changed the moment I said “Malgal.”
In the end, I had only one goal.
To forge a unified identity of “Goguryeo Nobles” instead of “Domestic Fortress Faction” or “Pyeongyang Faction.”
So as to prevent future civil wars of national collapse scale—like the Division of Go Geonmu into Five or Yeon Namsaeng’s Failure to Lock the Door.
Right now, Yeon Jayu’s method was war.
“Because when war comes, national sentiment always unites.”
Survival comes first, after all.
But that came with many problems.
First, it was too much of a hardline remedy. We couldn’t start a war every time factional strife worsened. That’s how Toyotomi Hideyoshi ended up ruined.
Plus, it only worked a couple of times—after repeated use, it’d stop being effective. Look at what happened just before Goguryeo’s fall. Even with war, the fractures didn’t heal—they only deepened.
War should be one of many tools for unification, not the sole method. It’s like trying to manage diabetes with medication alone.
‘What’s just as crucial is improving the internal system.’
The real issue was the lifestyle difference between the two factions.
Just take a look at the tax villages (sikeup) versus hereditary villages (nokeup). Their entire economic foundations were different. If how you survive is different, it’s inherently hard to unite.
So how do we bridge that gap?
By forcibly abolishing tax villages to unify their economic base?
That would be tantamount to launching another civil war. Look at Northern Wei. Their Sinicization policy suppressed the Xianbei aristocracy and led to civil war and collapse.
Also, that kind of method only works when the surroundings are stable. Even Silla didn’t start dismantling the Jin'gol class until after unification. And America’s Civil War happened during a time when Europe was preoccupied with the Crimean War and the Bō War.
But Goguryeo?
While Baekje and Silla were busy fighting each other, the Western Land was watching with hawk eyes. A civil war in the midst of the 30-year countdown to the Yeosu War? That’s like agreeing to die together.
If I did that, history’s judgment on King Go Yangseong would be the same as King Uija of Baekje:
“He had capability, and tried to strengthen royal authority by cracking down on the nobles. But he did it right before a war, so the country fell. His intentions were good, but good intentions don’t always mean good outcomes.”
I wanted to extend Goguryeo’s lifespan—not cut the remaining 90 years down to 30. So suppressing one side was not an option.
That left only one way.
“To elevate one side.”
What came to mind was Yuwen Yong’s Elevation Policy. The system that elevated talented Han Chinese into Xianbei aristocrats.
Of course, I wasn’t suggesting the absurd idea of granting tax villages to the Pyeongyang Faction. That’d be like trying to drag Goguryeo back 300 years into its romanticized past.
Having experienced both Pyeongyang and Domestic Fortress, I could say with certainty: the biggest difference between them was wealth and stability.
The Domestic Fortress Faction lacked both, which made them cling to even modest wealth and stability.
On the other hand, the Pyeongyang Faction, living without serious threats, became obsessed with military merit and similar achievements.
In other words—
To close that gap, I had to make the Domestic Fortress Faction more “stable.” And of course, I had to be the one who embodied that “stabilized Domestic Fortress.”
It all began with a simple proposal.
"With this war, the Malgal tribes along the Amnok River, centered around Liaoxi, have mostly submitted to us. However, among the Malgal near the Tumen River, there are still those who refuse to follow Goryeo’s order and frequently raid near the Domestic Fortress."
"…That’s true."
The Domestic Fortress Faction might be close to the Malgal, but not with all of them. There were still Malgal who raised anti-Goguryeo banners and raided its lands.
"I believe it’s time we started distinguishing the good Malgal from the bad Malgal.
If we claim it’s for expanding our power base for future wars and securing our rear, the Pyeongyang Faction wouldn’t oppose it either. And with this, you, Great Lord Go San, could wipe out the Malgal who continually raid the tax villages near Domestic Fortress."
At that, Go San, after some thought, asked,
"You, can you actually pull this off?"
"As you know, I am part of the Domestic Fortress Faction, but I also have ties to the Pyeongyang Faction. Let me ask instead—who else but me could do this?"
Even Go San couldn’t do this. For him to “ask” Yeon Jayu for something would not just be a blow to his dignity—it’d be practically a violation of party discipline.
But I could do it.
The doctrine of my younger faction was to broaden the shared ground between both sides.
Through this, I was essentially saying to Go San, “Isn’t it better to just leave me be?”… or at least that’s what Go San thought.
‘Though in truth, this was going to happen anyway.’
That’s right. The purge of the Malgal wasn’t some flash of genius by political prodigy Ondal. Even if I had stayed home scratching my belly, it would’ve happened within the next three years anyway.
I merely used my future knowledge and pretended like only I could make it happen, gently nudging its beginning toward my side.
Would it work?
"…Fine."
Of course it worked.
The fact that this happened in the original history meant both factions wanted it. It’d be stranger if it didn’t work.