- There is a place to which I must go. Come with me.
It was a day when Taiyuan lay close ahead.
The sky was unusually clear, and the distant ridgelines stretched like a sleeping body beneath a thin veil of mist.
General Jin Mugwang rode for a long while without speaking, his gaze fixed forward, before at last summoning Yi Hui.
“Yi. There is somewhere I must go for a moment.”
Yi Hui lifted his head.
“I will accompany you.”
Jin Mugwang shook his head.
“No. I will go alone. Prepare some wine and simple fare for me.”
His voice was calm.
Yi Hui did not ask why.
The general’s command had always been sufficient in itself.
Yi Hui gave the order at once.
Though supplies were not abundant after the campaign, he selected the best wine and the cleanest provisions, wrapping them carefully in cloth.
His hands were more deliberate than they had been before battle.
Jin Mugwang then called for So-un.
Receiving orders on horseback was the way of the Northern Route Army.
One did not dismount to ask questions.
“There is a place to which I must go. Come with me.”
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“Yes, General.”
So-un did not inquire further.
Where they were going, why, or when they would return—such questions did not belong to a soldier.
He had been taught that probing into a superior’s unspoken reasons was improper.
The bundle was tied to So-un’s saddle.
The wine shifted lightly with the motion.
“Let us go.”
Jin Mugwang turned his horse.
Dust rose slowly from the vanguard of the White Dragon Unit and swallowed the two figures.
Once they left the official road, even the texture of the wind seemed to change.
Watching from behind, Yi Hui felt an unease he could not name.
It was not unheard of for Jin Mugwang to ride alone to a ridge and gaze upon the land that might one day become a battlefield.
But even then, scouts would follow at a distance.
There had always been protection.
Today was different.
He had refused even an escort, taking only So-un and leaving the road behind.
Yi Hui called for Ga Gyeongpil.
“Why did he take the scholar boy?”
Ga Gyeongpil began to answer casually, then suddenly stopped.
“This is… Taiyuan, is it not?”
Yi Hui’s eyes hardened.
Taiyuan.
The name rolled slowly across his tongue.
Beyond that single ridge lay Yuga Manor.
“What did you pack for him?”
“Wine and food…”
In that instant, the threads aligned in Yi Hui’s mind.
“Yuga’s grave.”
He understood at last.
The general did not wish to shed tears before his men.
He was going to visit what he had lost before the war, not what he had lost in it.
But a different chill spread through Yi Hui’s chest.
This was near the capital.
The capital was more treacherous than any battlefield.
In the Haran Gorge, the enemy had been visible.
In the capital, one never knew whose hand held the blade.
An ally with a different design was more dangerous than any foe.
History had shown that more men died accused of rebellion than slain in open war.
A bell rang in Yi Hui’s mind—
a warning without a visible source.
He immediately summoned five forward scouts.
“Ride to Yuga Manor. Guard the General.”
“Where is Yuga Manor?”
“The house that entertained us grandly before the expedition. Do you not remember?”
Recognition flashed across their faces.
They wheeled their horses sharply.
Yi Hui left only a minimal rear guard and reorganized the formation.
The White Dragon Unit turned as one.
Dust rose again, higher than before.
Their movement was not loud.
But it was taut with tension.
No one spoke of it, yet all understood.
The war had ended—
but danger had not.
Ahead, Jin Mugwang’s figure grew smaller as he left the road and entered the mountain path.
So-un followed behind him, shoulders brushed by the wind.
The two rode in silence.
But the unease trailing after them
was thicker than the dust of any battlefield.