420.
The river wind at Hukou was cold.
Zhu Yuanzhang tried not to let the devastation he had just witnessed show on his face, but irritation bled through the ends of his words.
Each time he swallowed a sentence, his lips hardened once more.
Nam Ok crept closer and asked carefully,
“Your Majesty… what should be done?”
“What about it.”
His voice was restrained, but already cracked.
Nam Ok read the mood and continued,
“Should we attempt another ambush? This place is a choke point.”
“You suggest rebuilding an ambush that’s already been exposed?”
The edge in his words cut sharp.
“Why would you even ask that.”
Nam Ok bowed deeply and fell silent.
Zhu Yuanzhang drew a long breath and muttered as if to himself,
“I meant to catch those fleeing from Nanchang here. Starve them. Dry them out.”
His gaze dropped into the ravine below.
Corpses lay piled, long spears shattered and scattered.
Park Seongjin’s presence had vanished without leaving a single trace.
What remained was neither victory nor defeat, but the smell of a void.
“They still have Nanchang,” he said.
“They can resupply.”
A tremor of calculation surfaced at the end of his words.
“The ones in difficulty now… are us.”
Zhu Yuanzhang clenched his jaw.
“If they seize the exit of Hukou, we’ll be trapped inside the throat.”
Only then did Nam Ok and the other generals go pale.
They finally understood that Hukou was not merely terrain, but a bottleneck from which there was no escape.
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Zhu Yuanzhang slowly turned to Liu Bowen.
“Lord Liu. Your thoughts?”
Liu Bowen bowed without emotion.
“Your Majesty’s judgment is sound. Hukou is a position that must be held. Since they have not touched Jingjiangkou across the river, it appears they lack sufficient vessels to cross.”
Zhu Yuanzhang’s eyes brightened slightly.
“Exactly.”
Liu Bowen continued,
“If we abandon this place, the Chen Youliang forces and the Goryeo army will come down and cut our retreat. They currently hold the momentum of the offensive.”
“Hm…”
Zhu Yuanzhang drew in the wind and settled his decision.
The breath lingered long in his chest.
“Nam Ok.”
Nam Ok sprang up and bowed.
“Your servant stands ready.”
“This is where you prove your worth.”
The low voice drove the order deep.
Nam Ok answered at once,
“I will engrave Your Majesty’s grace into my body.”
“Hold Hukou.”
Nam Ok struck his head to the ground.
“I will carry out the command.”
Zhu Yuanzhang looked down at him in silence, then turned away.
A single judgment crossed his face.
For now, I entrust it.
Gripping the hilt of his sword, Zhu Yuanzhang said,
“Hukou is yours.”
As Nam Ok bowed once more, Zhu Yuanzhang turned toward the fleet.
“We reenter Poyang Lake.”
Drums thundered.
The massive Ming fleet withdrew from Hukou like a reversed tide, vanishing deep inland.
As the ships turned and split the current, a long trail of mist followed behind.
Beneath that wake, unease and fear slowly overturned beneath the river’s surface.
Hukou was already resting in the palm of Park Seongjin’s hand.
The path in, the path out, even the path of return—
their grain had all been set.
It was then.
A scouting vessel came hurtling into Hukou as if possessed, its voice breaking as it shouted,
“Zhang Shicheng’s main force— they are moving upriver!”
Zhu Yuanzhang sprang to his feet.
“Why now.”
The voice was pressed down, but the tremor seeped through.
He slammed his fist into the deck of the command ship.
Clack.
Metal fittings rang out, the sound spreading over the water before sinking into the current.
Zhu Yuanzhang halted the advance and called the generals to council.
Between the fleets on Poyang Lake, small boats rushed toward the flagship.
Zhu Yuanzhang’s vessel, bearing white banners, stood largest among them.
Liu Bowen spoke first.
“Your Majesty, dividing the front will scatter the formation.”
Zhu Yuanzhang said nothing.
Liu Bowen continued,
“Striking one side and immediately moving downstream to block the other is not supported by fleet speed or the grain of the waterways. Splitting the army will incur heavy losses.”
Zhu Yuanzhang stamped on the deck.
The dull thud of his foot echoed softly.
“Then what of Yingtian?”
Yingtian is our base.
If Zhang Shicheng presses down from Yangzhou, how are we to stop him?”
His words came in a rush.
“We lost Nanchang. If we lose Nanchang and Yingtian wavers, where do we even stand?”
Liu Bowen shook his head.
“Their objective is not conquest at this moment, but disruption. It is a move to shake the flow.”
But Zhu Yuanzhang’s expression did not settle.
Cold sweat gathered in his palm.
The image of losing one more stronghold clung to his mind.
“Yao Yingchong.”
“Your servant obeys.”
“You return and hold Yingtian. Beat the drums loudly— make it seem as though the main army remains. Suppress Zhang Shicheng’s momentum.”
Liu Bowen moved to speak, but Zhu Yuanzhang cut him off.
“I know the danger of dividing the army. But if Yingtian falls, the war ends.”
“Your Majesty. In truth, the victor of this Poyang Lake battle will take everything. If we lose here, Yingtian intact will mean nothing. If we win here, even losing Yingtian will not matter.”
“I have decided. Speak no further.”
Yao Yingchong’s corps hurriedly broke away from the fleet.
As the ships turned, the current split and the formation wavered—then realigned.
Nine corps remained.
Zhu Yuanzhang swallowed a near-curse.
The manuals warned never to thin one’s forces.
Yet the image of Yingtian falling would not release him.
His unease continued to grow.
