Chapter 9
An Unexpected Guest
The army of Yan had set out to reclaim their lost stronghold.
But once again, they failed. They returned with heavy casualties and nothing to show for it.
Not even Zhao’s elite Black Tiger Corps had taken the field this time, making the defeat all the more bitter for Yan’s commanders.
Shouts rang out repeatedly from within General Hwangho’s tent. After some time, the generals dispersed, each returning to their posts. Among them, Peng Muwei’s face was flushed red and pale in turns.
“Of all things… diarrhea…”
He had been unable to perform at all in the operation. The ridiculous reason? He had been stricken with a sudden bout of diarrhea just before the battle began.
He’d had no choice but to retreat without fighting.
His failure drew the resentment of the other commanders.
Everyone had their assigned roles, and Peng Muwei had failed to fulfill his. Because of that, the operation became disjointed, and ultimately, a failure.
Gurgle.
“…!”
Peng Muwei suddenly bolted toward his quarters like lightning. He burst into the latrine, kicking open the door, and pulled down his trousers.
“Ughhh…”
A while later, he returned to his tent, gathered the kitchen staff, and began punching and kicking them in a fury.
Once the storm had passed, the soldiers voiced their complaints.
“Seriously, everyone else ate the same thing and was fine. Why was it only the Left General?”
“Exactly! Damn it, he just ate too fast and got sick, and now he’s taking it out on us.”
“Screw this job. Ptooey!”
The soldiers, who had enjoyed relatively easy postings until Peng Muwei’s arrival, were even more disgruntled.
Meanwhile, Ihwan had received a report from Song Hoe regarding the failed operation.
When he heard that Peng Muwei had been rendered useless due to diarrhea, a faint smile crossed his face.
“I just threw something together, but it seems it worked.”
Ihwan looked through the window toward Peng Muwei’s tent—just in time to see him rush out, clutching his backside.
“If your skin clears up, be sure to thank me. Hahaha.”
Watching from nearby, Cha Jung-gyeong muttered:
“Why would he suddenly get diarrhea?”
“He looks like someone who eats a lot. Probably just overate and got sick,” Song Hoe replied casually, then frowned as he glared at Cha Jung-gyeong.
“I told you not to talk to me.”
“I was talking to myself.”
“You little—always talking back, huh?”
Ihwan intervened.
“Hey, knock it off and get dinner ready instead of bickering.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ihwan went outside and sat on a bamboo rocking chair.
The sun was setting, dyeing the world in crimson. As he watched the soldiers training, he was reminded of the subordinates who had once followed him in his own time.
Daeyaseong had been a legend forged by him and his loyal followers.
“Those were the days…”
Memories of those times flickered through his mind like a lantern show. Everything felt so vivid, as if it had happened just days ago.
A smile crept onto Ihwan’s lips.
But that warmth didn’t last long. Reality had erased it all without a trace.
“Damn it…”
Crack!
His hand clenched unconsciously, shattering the armrest of the chair.
Snap!
Just then, three figures approached from afar. General Jeongcheon and two white-robed soldiers.
One was unfamiliar, and the other was partially hidden behind Jeongcheon.
Song Hoe, stepping outside just then, tilted his head.
“Who are they?”
“Did anyone say they were coming to see me?”
“No, sir.”
Then, the white-robed man hidden behind Jeongcheon stepped forward, revealing his face.
Ihwan was visibly shocked.
“That man…”
Ihwan had a younger sister—an illegitimate child like him. Frail from birth, she was never treated as a proper princess and was married off in a political match.
One of the men approaching now was her husband.
A moment later, Jeongcheon and the two men arrived.
Ihwan’s brother-in-law, the Prince Consort, bowed his head and gestured to the man beside him.
“This is the Grand Prince. Show your respects.”
“Song Cheonmu of the Song family greets the Grand Prince.”
* * *
There are two reasons a noble son might come to the frontlines:
One, to restore his fallen family’s honor through military merit.
Two, because of the law established by Emperor Taejo, mandating their service.
Song Cheonmu likely fell into both categories.
His brother, Prince Consort Song Cheonho, spoke.
“Though born of different mothers, she is my dearest sibling. That is why I’ve come with her younger brother. I hope you will be kind to him.”
Ihwan heard sincerity in Cheonho’s voice.
“If the other princes had been like this, the boy might not have suffered so much.”
He took a sip of tea, thinking of the body’s original owner, and asked abruptly:
“Was it a coincidence?”
“Pardon?”
“Your brother ending up here. Was it by chance?”
The pointed question made Cheonho’s eyes flicker. He bit his lip before replying.
“I asked some acquaintances connected to the military to help place him here, hoping Your Highness might take him under your wing.”
He admitted to the request.
Ihwan narrowed his eyes.
“Why me? You, of all people, should know better than most what kind of situation I’m in. Being close to me could be a thorny path.”
“What others say doesn’t matter to me. If my wife’s most trusted brother takes him in, it would ease all our hearts.”
“Is that truly the only reason?”
“How could I dare lie to you?”
Cheonho drew a sealed message from his robes.
Ihwan opened it and read the letter inside.
Dear Brother…
It was from her—the sister of the original Ihwan.
The letter was filled with concern and affection, concluding with a heartfelt plea to take care of her brother, Song Cheonmu.
His chest tightened slightly.
Such emotions were still foreign to Ihwan—he’d never had them in his past life.
Clack.
“I wonder if my sister is well.”
“She has thankfully recovered her health. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to come.”
Ihwan turned his gaze to Song Cheonmu, who had not moved nor lifted his eyes the entire time.
“You said your name is Cheonmu?”
“Yes, Grand Prince.”
“Do you want to stay by my side?”
“…”
When there was no reply, Cheonho appeared flustered.
“Answer him!”
“May I speak honestly?”
“Go ahead.”
Cheonmu replied firmly.
“I do not believe in rumors. I trust my own eyes and ears more—and more than that, I trust my brother. If he wishes me to serve you, I believe there is good reason.”
Their eyes met and locked in the air.
“Good eyes.”
Ihwan suddenly found himself liking the young man.
Many of the subordinates he’d trusted in his past life had the same kind of aura.
He looked back at Cheonho.
“If he’s this kind of man, my sister won’t be unhappy.”
His mood lifted.
Though again—it wasn’t really his own emotion.
“Once my internal energy returns, I’ll leave this place anyway…”
It was an awkward situation, but he couldn’t refuse the young man.
“I’ll keep him close for now. I can decide later.”
Having taken over this body and this life, he felt a debt to the original Ihwan.
He had once been emperor—repaying a debt was only right.
“Fine. You’ll stay by my side.”
“Thank you!”
Cheonho bowed deeply, but Cheonmu remained expressionless.
Ihwan smirked.
“Not happy about it at all, huh.”
He turned to Cheonho.
“I’d like to speak with him alone for a bit.”
“Understood.”
Cheonho stepped out.
Ihwan looked at Cheonmu, who kept his eyes down.
“Why don’t you tell me the truth now?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your face says you’re not thrilled to be here. Am I wrong?”
“…”
After a brief hesitation, Cheonmu spoke.
“I am honored to be by your side. However…”
“However?”
“Rather than living safely, I would prefer to fight alongside the other warriors.”
He had finally revealed his true feelings.
Heh.
“You want fame through military merit, huh?”
“…”
That was when Ihwan realized—
Cheonmu was still just a kid.
And he understood the boy’s desire completely.
“Have you trained diligently?”
“Yes. I’ve trained all my life for a day like this.”
“Then I’ll test you sometime. If I find your skills sufficient, I’ll let you join the battlefield. Until then, don’t let your thoughts wander—just focus on adjusting to camp life.”
“Yes, Grand Prince.”
* * *
“Please take care of yourself.”
Cheonho departed.
Before leaving, he patted Cheonmu’s shoulder and blinked away tears.
“You little brat, consider this part of the debt paid. And… your sister married a good man. You can rest easy.”
Just as Ihwan finished that thought, Song Hoe approached.
“Are you really going to keep him nearby?”
“Is there a problem?”
“People may talk. Keeping relatives close could spark rumors.”
“I’ll handle that. You just help him settle in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Just then, Cha Jung-gyeong stepped outside.
“Where should we put him?”
“There’s no spare room. Let him bunk with you for now.”
“…”
And so, Song Cheonmu became Cha Jung-gyeong’s roommate.
* * *
Inside General Hwangho’s tent.
Jeongcheon poured hot water into teacups.
“He says he wants to take him on as a bodyguard.”
“That’s probably for the best. Better than having unrelated soldiers suffer.”
“But having a relative so close might stir gossip.”
“Is there any worse gossip than what’s already said about the Grand Prince?”
“True…”
They chuckled faintly and sipped their tea.
Then Jeongcheon said:
“Fortunately, the warriors’ opinion of the Left General is poor. Many believe his so-called ‘illness’ during the operation was faked.”
“You say ‘fortunately’… for me?”
“No, sir. I merely…”
“That’s enough.”
Hwangho sipped his tea again and spoke.
“Just because he’s the Crown Prince’s pick, we shouldn’t judge him harshly. If he has the skill, we acknowledge him. If not, he bears responsibility. Understood?”
“Yes, General.”
“Help him adjust quietly. Make sure it doesn’t draw attention.”
“Yes, General.”
Just then, the voice of the guard captain rang out.
“General! The Grand Prince is here!”
Hwangho and Jeongcheon exchanged glances.
“What brings him here at this hour?”
“Who knows.”
Hwangho rose, straightened his clothes, and opened the tent flap.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all. Please, come in.”
Ihwan took a seat in Hwangho’s chair. Hwangho sat beside Jeongcheon.
Looking directly at Hwangho, Ihwan spoke.
“I have a favor to ask.”
