Yi Hyun noticed both the regent’s conversation with his elder brother on the way back and their seeming inactivity after returning. Nevertheless, several servants who had arrived with the envoy had disappeared from the court, clearly sent to search for the stolen sword. Therefore, that same evening, as soon as the courtyard grew sufficiently dark and deserted, Yi Hyun decided to visit his elder brother and learn his intentions. The sword of the Ming Emperor was for Joseon scarcely less important than the title of heir, and they needed to discuss it.

  His elder brother was still awake, although his eunuch made every effort to demonstrate his displeasure at Yi Hyun’s late visit. Yi Hyun had to ignore the servant’s exaggerated yawns and insist on the meeting.

  “Do you consider this an appropriate time for a visit, Hyun?” Yi Yun asked rather coolly.

  He was sitting at a low table, reading a book. Beside his hand stood a cup of steaming tea. Candlelight sharpened Yi Yun’s features, making him seem strange and unfamiliar.

  “Elder brother,” Hyun bowed and paused, hoping the eunuch would leave. The hint went unnoticed. “We need to talk.”

  “Do we need to talk, or do you need to talk?” Yi Yun finally lifted his eyes from the book and looked at him without much warmth.

  “About today’s discovery,” Yi Hyun clarified. He tried to understand what had happened to his brother, why he had grown so cold toward him. Had he taken offense at something? Released his ‘beast’? Received orders from Father? “I think it is important to discuss how we will proceed.”

  “All right,” Yi Yun suddenly smiled and made an inviting gesture with his hand. “Filial devotion to parents and respect for brothers are the foundation of all noble deeds. Sit down, let us discuss it. Have them bring fresh tea.”

  The unbearable eunuch finally left. Yi Yun closed the book, pushed it aside, and leaned his elbows on the table, interlacing his fingers.

  “Tell me what you think about this, Hyun,” he said. “I am interested in hearing your opinion.”

  Perhaps it had been the eunuch’s presence. Now, alone, his brother again seemed familiarly friendly. Apparently, all that arrogant coldness had been meant for spectators. Hyun smiled with relief.

  “I believe it is that very sword of the Ming Emperor,” he began quickly and quietly, leaning forward. “If that is so, it must not fall into Qing hands.”

  “The envoy has already announced a hunt,” Yi Yun noted.

  “I sent the guards as well,” Hyun fell silent for a moment, biting his lip. “I understand that you told him you would find the sword to calm him. But what will we do if we truly find it? He will seize it the moment he sees it.”

  “Do you think he would dare?” Yi Yun raised an eyebrow. “Not blackmail us with the edict, but forcefully take it?”

  “If it helps Qing avoid our uprising, I have no doubt,” Yi Hyun nodded and glanced around, just in case.

  “And are we already planning to rise up?” his elder brother asked, as if joking.

  “No, it is far too early,” Yi Hyun grimaced in irritation. “If the sword had appeared ten years later… You know we do not have the strength for the Northern Campaign now.”

  “Yes, that would be rash,” his elder brother agreed.

  “We first need to establish secret training camps in the mountains,” Yi Hyun continued, growing animated without noticing it himself. “I have already marked a couple of locations, but I want you to inspect them as well. In addition, we will need no fewer than five new forges to produce weapons. As for armor, we could…”

  He had nurtured and cultivated this plan for years, and he was glad he could speak of it with someone like-minded. Since the deaths of his closest friends, he had had no one to whom he could entrust his dream.

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  When the eunuch entered with a tray, Yi Hyun broke off. The servant began arranging and filling the cups. His elder brother moved the inkstone farther away, then thoughtfully drew a sheet of paper toward himself.

  “You may go,” he dismissed his eunuch once the tea preparations were complete. “Continue, Hyun. You were speaking about how many archers we will need.”

  “I think it is important to train all infantrymen in archery,” Yi Hyun lifted his cup and took a sip of the astringent drink. “From the most talented we will form separate units and arm them with bows made of buffalo horn. Here we must be careful, so that the movement of such quantities of horn does not attract informers. I assume we will not accomplish this in a single year.”

  “Have you considered transport by sea?” Yi Yun suggested. Although they had discussed this once before, Yi Hyun eagerly rushed to defend his idea of forest depots deep in the mountains.

  Yi Yun listened, occasionally nodding, restraining a smile, and dipping his brush into ink without looking, as though preparing to write or draw something.

  “Therefore, although ships carry more, they are watched closely,” Yi Hyun concluded. “I would not involve them until the last possible moment.”

  “And the construction of new ones? We will need new vessels for the campaign,” his elder brother pressed, as if testing the plan by asking about the smallest details. As though he wanted to catch him in an inaccuracy. But Yi Hyun had thought everything through and calculated it all, and he passed this improvised examination with honor.

  “Not new ones, no. If we build more than two or three new ships a year, it will be noticed,” Yi Hyun smiled. “Someone could establish a private trading company for me, one that would begin building its own merchant vessels… We would need a front man. I was thinking perhaps of that young man who recently passed the examinations, the one you recommended to the court? His father also has a trading company. No one will suspect anything unusual.”

  “Is that so?” Yi Yun narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and gazed into the distance. His brush seemed to begin tracing lines on the paper of its own accord. At first Yi Hyun thought he was writing down figures from their discussion, but it did not look like numbers. “And would it not bother that young man to wear an official’s cap?”

  “We will see. One can always find someone,” Yi Hyun shrugged. “But young Master Pak seems a very capable young man. Besides, his father has accountants to assist him.”

  “Very well, let us assume so,” Yi Yun agreed and looked back at Yi Hyun. “Horses. Where will you obtain so many horses?”

  “We will not need too many horses,” Yi Hyun shook his head. “Cavalry is the strength of the Manchus. We will not outmatch them there. You saw what he did during the hunt, remember? Joseon’s strength has always been in archers. But I have another idea. You have not forgotten about muskets, have you?”

  They talked and talked. The tea had long gone cold, and the candles had nearly burned down. Yi Yun kept jotting down a few words now and then, hardly looking, and continued questioning Yi Hyun about the details of the Northern Campaign. He even offered several sound suggestions, improving an already well-thought-out plan. As for the sword, they reached no real decision, other than agreement that it must not fall into the hands of the Qing guests. First, however, it still had to be found.

  “And what are you writing, elder brother?” Yi Hyun asked when the conversation began to run its course.

  Yi Yun lowered his gaze as if rereading, raised an eyebrow, and snorted.

  “Nothing. Nonsense. Pay it no mind,” he said, then crumpled the sheet covered in crooked writing and looked at Yi Hyun again. “It is already quite late. One must conserve strength to be ready for tomorrow. Is it not time for you to go to sleep?”

  “Of course, elder brother,” Yi Hyun stood, rolling his stiff shoulders. “Thank you for listening.”

  Outside, Yi Hyun lingered, pulling on his boots by feel. The brazier in the courtyard had nearly burned out and gave little light. He sat on the wooden steps and watched snowflakes falling from the dark sky. While he and Yi Yun had been talking, the entire courtyard had been covered, and in the garden behind the building, real snowdrifts had likely already formed.

  The eunuch stepped out onto the gallery, grumbling as he pulled on his black shoes, nodded to the prince, and hurried toward the brazier, leaving a chain of footprints in the white snow. He tossed a crumpled piece of paper onto the glowing coals, dusted off his hands, and just as quickly scurried back under the roof. Yi Hyun rose. Lingering near another’s quarters any longer would have been impolite.

  Muttering “Good night,” the eunuch disappeared behind the sliding doors, continuing to complain about the weather. His grumbling about cold and snow made the prince smile. He looked again at the darkening trail of footprints, bit his lip, then shrugged. After all, he had a right to be curious.

  Yi Hyun approached the brazier, held back his silk sleeve, and caught the edge of the paper ball with his fingertips. It had begun to char along the folds but had not yet caught fire. Yi Hyun carefully unfolded it, brought it closer to the weak glow of the embers, and read.

  The crookedly written characters scattered in all directions, slanting across the page, before forming comprehensible words:

  Do not believe.

  Do not trust me.

  It is not me.

  There is a ghost in this body.