279.It is war
It was the third day since the battle of Yangzhou had ended.
The smoke had settled.
The smell of blood had sunk into the soil.
Zhang Shicheng reconvened the council in his camp.
This time there were no shouts, no anger.
Everyone was exhausted.
The silence of Zhang Shicheng—heavy with disappointment after defeat—pressed down on the camp more strongly than words.
He did not sit.
He stood at the center of the tent, rolling a thick silver ingot beneath his fingertips.
The light shimmered and reflected across the tent ceiling.
His voice was low and calm, carrying a hardened resolve.
"Victory won by the blade does not last.
They are strong.
They are accustomed to battle.
They have order.
But in the end, what they want is blood—profit.
In the midst of this civil war, they have intervened.
We must know what they seek.
We must know why they have come all this way.
We must know why the court of Dadu permitted their entry into Jiangnan."
Zhang Shicheng set the silver ingot on the table.
"This is our weapon.
Behind the Goryeo troops at Yangzhou stands Yuan command.
Then we shake what lies above them.
Nothing moves faster than money."
The strategist Wei Jin asked cautiously,
"The Goryeo army is a tributary state of Yuan.
Open negotiation would give cause for treason."
Zhang Shicheng spoke without turning his head.
"I did not say to do it openly."
The corner of his mouth lifted, almost imperceptibly.
"People are always hungry.
The hungry see silver.
I will find those hands."
He gestured to an attendant at the rear of the tent.
"Prepare an envoy.
Load supplies.
Bring silver chests instead of letters of credential."
"Silver chests?"
"Yes.
Blades spill blood.
Silver opens roads."
He continued, pacing slowly.
"Administrators in the Goryeo camp, interpreters, officers—it matters not.
Where silver reaches, words are understood.
Where words are understood, paths open.
Along that path, stop the fighting.
From now on, we fight with speech and money."
Silence passed through the tent.
Someone murmured softly,
"General, is this diplomacy… or bribery?"
Zhang Shicheng turned and answered,
"It is war.
War that cuts with blades.
War that cuts with silver."
He lifted the silver ingot again.
The day's sunlight faintly touched its surface—
not the red of blood, but the cold sheen of metal.
Zhang Shicheng looked at the men chosen for the hastily formed envoy, one by one.
"Go.
Not officially, but privately.
Not with proclamations, but with transactions.
Your mouths are today's blades."
At dawn on the sixth day after the battle of Yangzhou, the air in the camp felt subtly different.
The smell of blood had not yet faded.
Now another scent had entered—incense.
Not the smell of battle, but the smell of negotiation.
From the eastern gate, a lavish carriage appeared.
Its sides, gaudily adorned with colored cords, bore symbols of gold and silver wealth.
A sentry ran in haste.
"General, envoys have arrived at the eastern gate."
"Envoys?"
Park Seongjin frowned.
"From where?"
"Zhang Shicheng's camp.
No escort, no troops.
A splendid carriage, filled with gold and silver."
The commanders exchanged glances.
One let out a short laugh.
Another unconsciously touched the hilt of his sword.
"Let them in.
Search thoroughly for weapons."
At Park Seongjin's order, the sentries moved.
Soon two envoys entered the tent.
Their clothes were too clean—
not garments worn through a battlefield.
They looked like representatives of a merchant guild.
Behind them, porters filed in, carrying a single silver chest with both arms.
The envoy bowed deeply.
"Lord Zhang Shicheng sends his words.
Battle is but a means of testing intentions.
He desires no further bloodshed."
Park Seongjin looked at him with cold eyes.
"Then what is inside the chest?"
At the envoy's gesture, a porter slowly lifted the lid.
The lamplight struck silver and flared.
Bright light filled the tent.
A soft clink echoed—
a sound stranger than military music.
"His lordship offers this as a 'gift' for peace."
"Silver for peace."
Park Seongjin's gaze wavered by a hair's breadth.
Beside him, Lee Nosan murmured,
"This isn't a gift. It's bait."
Park Seongjin did not acknowledge it.
That thought had already crossed his mind.
He turned back to the envoy.
"By what authority do you come here?"
"I represent a trading house.
And I carry Lord Zhang Shicheng's will.
We are merchants.
If war destroys profit, it must stop—that is his intent."
Park Seongjin tapped the table with his finger.
A short, even rhythm.
His face showed neither anger nor smile.
"Profit.
Then your war has no cause."
The envoy bowed.
"Cause does not feed people.
Profit feeds people."
The air in the tent shifted subtly.
Park Seongjin remained silent for a long while.
Then he raised his hand and had the chest closed.
As the silver vanished, the lamplight flickered again.
"I have heard your words.
We will keep the silver for now.
The answer has not yet been decided."
The envoy bowed again.
"His lordship says the sooner the answer, the shorter the war."
Park Seongjin's eyes pierced him.
"Deliver this in return.
I do not believe war can be stopped with silver alone.
Be clear about what is to be exchanged."
The envoy replied distinctly, head lowered.
"There is no other intent.
After the recent battle, we know you are strong.
He wishes to halt the fighting.
For that, he offers silver."
"Halting battle is a promise of peace.
It is cooperation—trust.
It is not something that can be bought."
When the words ended, the envoy added nothing more.
He withdrew quietly.
After their footsteps faded, a long silence filled the tent.
Lee Nosan looked at the silver chest and said,
"This is more frightening than battle."
Park Seongjin answered,
"Yes.
Blades kill people.
Silver kills the heart."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"This is Zhang Shicheng's second attack."