250.
The Return to Hwajuh — Spring Fields, the Beginning of Reconstruction, and the Road of the People's Will
Water pooled across the thawed fields.
Yellow earth drank in the sunlight and glimmered, and on every rise green shoots were pushing through.
Hooves struck the rough dirt road as the column moved forward at an unhurried pace.
From horseback, Park Seong-jin lifted his gaze to the northern range.
Beyond it lay Hwajuh.
"The road back feels so different," he said.
At his side, Yi In-jung answered,
"When we left, it felt like a road to death."
Park Seong-jin smiled faintly.
"It's strange, General. The fighting is over, yet my heart feels heavier."
Yi In-jung nodded.
"That is governance. War has clear justifications; rule does not.
There is too much to think through. You must do it well."
He adjusted his reins and added, slowly,
"Above all, each person believes something different is right.
Desires differ. Interests always collide.
To find fairness within that—there is nothing harder.
That is the fate of a provincial governor.
You must not fall to the temptation of easy fixes,
nor abandon things hoping they will improve on their own."
"Loyalty."
Willow branches along the road swayed in the spring wind.
Between them, the walls of Hwajuh appeared faintly.
On ramparts worn thin by winter storms, swallows were already flying in, carrying twigs to build their nests.
As they passed through the gate, children recognized him first.
"It's Nangjang Park!"
"It's really Nangjang Park!"
The cries spread.
People came out one by one and bent at the waist.
They were those who had fought together, endured together.
For a moment, Park Seong-jin could not dismount.
The trust in their eyes pressed heavily upon him.
Yi In-jung said quietly,
"From here on, you must set down the sword and take up the brush.
You must do both—civil governance and military order.
Only then does this land truly become ours."
His voice was firm.
"The sword cuts down enemies.
The brush rebuilds a realm."
That night, lights were lit throughout the Hwajuh camp.
Under a small lamp in the command tent, Park Seong-jin spread paper in silence.
Documents Yi In-jung had brought lay at his side.
Upon one sheet, five lines were written in neat script.
First: Never touch the people's mouths for military provisions.
Second: Discipline must be strict, but it must be just.
Third: Rewards and punishments are to be judged by merit, not birth.
Fourth: Merchant houses are to be rotated fairly.
Fifth: Establish new laws, but first win the people's hearts.
Park Seong-jin read each line without sound and copied them as they were.
Yi In-jung said,
"The five elements of governance. Break any one of them, and you fail."
"Then if I keep only these, will I succeed?"
Yi In-jung laughed.
"You will still fail."
"Then why give them to me?"
"Because governance is the work of reducing failure.
It is not the work of becoming perfect.
Perfection is neither possible nor real."
At those words, Park Seong-jin set down his brush and bowed deeply.
"You have lived through all of this, General."
Yi In-jung spoke slowly.
"So have I, so have my superiors—and so will you.
Dealing with people is always slow and always incomplete.
Still, one who begins knowing that endures longer.
Do not strive to do everything well;
be careful, instead, not to ruin what you touch."
The counsel went on.
Spring wind slipped in through the cracks of the tent—still cold, yet carrying the smell of soil.
Outside, soldiers were repairing the walls, and laborers were rebuilding a fallen bridge.
Upon the scars of war, a new order was taking root.
Days later, Park Seong-jin walked the market within the walls himself.
He inspected ruined storehouses and adjusted the distribution of supplies.
At first wary, the people softened when they saw him carrying loads with his own hands and tending the wounded.
"With a Nangjang who looks after things like that, we won't starve,"
an old man said.
At those words, Park Seong-jin's shoulders eased, just a little.
The weight that settled there was not joy, but the burden of lives entrusted to him.
That night, he said to Yi In-jung,
"I think I understand now."
"Understand what?"
"That building a country is harder than fighting a war."
Yi In-jung smiled.
"The day you understand that is the beginning.
Why do you think the king sent you here?"
They stood side by side, looking up at the night sky.
Moonlight washed the dirt road faintly, and newly planted willows swayed in the wind.
They stood there like a promise of spring.
Yi In-jung remained seven days, watching as Park Seong-jin settled into his post, then returned to Gaegyeong.
He left behind a portion of elite troops.