Before proceeding, some explanation must be given for the events leading up to Joohyun’s appearance in Bonui. 

Shortly after the disbandment of the noble militias in the 34th year of Mundeok, Youngjae finally caught up with Joohyun and Seulgi near Junxian on their two humble mares purchased with their bonuses. 

“Forgive me for my absence, my lord; bounty hunters found me hiding with my relatives at Milseon, and they thought it convenient at that moment to prosecute the bounty that had already been revoked by the Prefect five years before. I was forced to slay them all and flee from my home again.”

Youngjae, a son of a gamekeeper, had once killed the son of a noble who was infringing upon the hunting grounds of his local lord. Both lords decided in private that the gamekeeper who had shot the stone at the boy should be held responsible, but he refused to let himself be taken willingly, and five bounty hunters had their heads split open by stones by the time he became a fugitive and outlaw. Joohyun had found him in a dram-shop during the outset of her dispute with the Prefect of Yodeok, and since he had several other men of similar circumstance with him, she recruited him into her service; together they stormed the office of the Prefect with the disgruntled mob, and dragged him out to whip him with bamboo sticks. Thereafter, Youngjae stayed with Joohyun as her friend and lance-bearer, except that he had no lance to bear for her, and only carried her personal effects in return for her legal protections. 

“There is nothing to apologise about,” said Joohyun. “It seems that we should avoid Milseon for the time being.”

“Not only Milseon, but Ohjinam too; for the Sage there has been gathering masses of followers and making regiments out of the mob, and I fear that soon he will act on his scriptures.”

This news troubled Joohyun greatly, who hitherto believed that the danger to the Sindeok had dissipated because of Mohe’s defeat. She then thought of returning to Yodeok as soon as possible so that at least she would have a place of familiarity to weather in when the vault of Heaven would inevitably drop on Nanwian; not just human disasters, but natural ones that often accompanied times of unrest. 

“Who is that beside you?” inquired Youngjae, seeing Seulgi even though she tried to hide herself vainly behind Joohyun’s back. “Did you purchase a slave, or was she liberated from the barbarians?”

“From slave hunters,” replied Joohyun. “She is not my slave; I am educating her in the martial ways, so that she can be like you and Youngjae in serving me as armed followers.”

“The times are becoming perilous, and all must arm themselves and ready themselves for blood and fire; I shall not criticise your choice of companions, my lord, but I hope she does not come near me or lay hands upon my own belongings.”

“I promise you that she will only remain by my side, Youngjae,” said Joohyun. 

As winter was fast approaching, they decided to travel southwards to warmer climates, following the Great Canal all the way down to Gongju. However, they found out that the Tongji section of the Canal had been destroyed by floods and mudslides only when they reached it, and were forced to take an overland route to Pocheon in Gyeonggu, but the road was also afflicted by a small war between bandits and the Governor’s forces, so passage was slow and often obstructed. Winter came and went, and Minseok gave his final sermon of Ohjinam. Before the frost and snow had melted and formed streams, there were rivers of fire coursing through Nanwian. In the provincial capital of Bonghwa Joohyun was reunited with another companion — Namjoon, a friend of Jiaozhi birth, who had been wandering around Gyeonggu, Anju, and Hangyong aimlessly after the failed assassination attempt on Mundeok, waiting for news of Joohyun to surface. 

In Gyeonggu, east and north of Ansu, the rebellion began more earnestly than in the other provinces, for the rebel leaders there were well-acquainted with the capabilities of the terrible Governor, who had served previously as the Regional Military Commissioner of the East Sea, crushing the pirate incursions on the coasts of Hangyong, Unju, and Bonghwa, and then leading fleets to the Taihei islands to ensure that the native lords kept their seafaring citizens in check. A conspiracy had been underway to deprive Taemin of his army through defection and sabotage at the outset of the rebellion, but it was uncovered by the Governor, who purged his own officials and staff by executing them with their families and thereby allowed the little nobles of Gyeonggu to exert greater influence in the government. Before winter had ended, Taemin’s own son Taeyong, in league with the remnants of the conspiracy, had rebelled against his father with disgruntled royal troops fearing for their own lives; Taemin had his son declared a heretic and upon defeating him, punished him like a heretic by roasting him upon a bronze pillar. Far from being an impotent old man holding a retirement office, Taemin had demonstrated himself to still be the tiger of his youth — as cruel and unrelenting as ever. 

Thus, when the rebellion in Gyeonggu began under Zhang Yixing, Taemin did not hesitate in destroying every rebel band that came to his attention, even in the early days of the uprising when he could only call upon his personal guard. The nobles of Gyeonggu, long alerted by Taemin to the danger posed by their peasants and the common soldiery, had also made ample preparations against the onslaught, and thus held out in their castles far longer than those in other provinces, and some even formed their own armies before Taemin could relieve them. Submitting themselves to Taemin’s leadership, a great army was marshalled in Gyeonggu, numbering over 10,000 men of all classes, and swept the entire rebellion out of Gyeonggu (and quite inconsiderately into the other provinces). 

For a time Joohyun and her companions served in the army of Taemin, and during the precarious first months of the uprising she came to the attention of the Governor himself during a battle at Fanpan. 

At Fanpan, Taemin rested his troops, who had previously fought ten engagements with the rebels in the past two weeks, driving them out of the vicinity of the provincial capital, and towards one of the main rebel bodies under a general Jaeyun, commanding 7,000 fighting men; at that point in time the distinction between trained soldiers and the mob among the rebels was not as pronounced. Here Taemin exercised caution and did not immediately think of attack, for his men were exhausted from toil and battles, he was waiting for supplies from the city of Gyeonggu, and his numbers paled in comparison to Jaeyun’s, as he was in possession of only 1,000 men, and they had been decreased by some deaths and disease. Still, the rebels did not try to overwhelm him either, for the nobles had fortified their camp considerably, and the rebels were already struck by terror from the depredations he had inflicted upon their comrades on the road. Therefore they sought to lure the Governor’s army out of its camp: first they attempted to set fire to the grass outside of the camp, endeavouring to draw its occupants out with either the threat of fire, or with a real fire. But Taemin commanded his men to stay put and do nothing; for spring had only just come, and the grass was still laden with moisture, being nearly impervious to any sort of fire-starter. Thus his army laughed and jeered at the rebels before their camp for the whole day, sending them back to their lines in humiliation. 

The next day, Jaeyun himself appeared before his own men, rousing their morale by flying the banner of the omuk on his back, and commanding them to prepare for battle and stand at attention before Taemin’s camp. With the beating of drums and blowing of trumpets and horns, hitting their weapons together and shouting battle cries and orders, the rebels appeared to be readying themselves for a real battle to storm the camp, but Taemin ordered his men to stay put, deigning not to answer the challenge of the rebel force. For an hour they paraded around with their armour and weapons, shuffling their formations; the left marched to the right, the right to the left, and the center to the left and right, with horsemen galloping around in their rear to kick up clouds of dust to give an appearance of a larger force than was actually present — but still Taemin shut his gates, only letting his men keep their positions and regard their enemies with indifference. 

Then Jaeyun decided that he needed to become intimate with his challenge, for Taemin himself would not be moved. Riding up alone towards the camp, Jaeyun brandished his sword insolently, and began to lead his men in hurling all manner of insults and vulgarities at the camp, in the hopes of inciting one of Taemin’s commanders or nobles to break discipline and issue from the camp impetuously. 

“Hi! Dearest nobles, what ails you today? Here are your disobeying peasants; come and discipline them! Are you ill today? Or have you been struck by fear? Come out and show us your glorious feats of arms; your valorous displays of power! I cannot hear your battle cries over ours! But is that crying I hear? Don’t worry, nobles, for your women and children shall also join you in your weeping! Come take us, or we shall leave, and despoil and ruin elsewhere! Then in your regret you will lament that you didn’t take us here out of cowardice! We shall reunite you with your ancestors who will take you for chickens!”

To say that Taemin’s men were not inflamed by the provocations would be false, for many among them had witnessed the atrocities wrought onto the lands of Gyeonggu by the rebels, like Gyuri and her commanders would soon witness in Ansu. Fresh in their minds were the slayings of their kinsmen, the driving of townspeople into captivity, and the razing of fields and industry. While none of them dared to defy the iron orders of Taemin, a group of higher-ranking nobles entered Taemin’s quarters with murder in their eyes and vengeance on their brows, and demanded that he allow them to sally forth and kill the rebel leader. 

But Taemin was not moved by their requests. “You are men of alacrity and honour,” said he, “so you need not take his words seriously. Resort not to your base instincts, and always hold the grand strategy in mind! It is not cowardice that keeps me behind these walls, but simple prudence; that chief of the infidels will eventually make a mistake in his impatience to defeat me.”

“But my lord,” cried Jeonghan, one of Taemin’s commanders, “can you abide by these insults? ‘Suffer not the denigrations to the honoured deceased,’ as the saying goes. They can call me a fool; a coward; a eunuch; but I will not tolerate their scorning of my ancestry!”

“Do not lecture me on philosophy, Jeonghan! Your ancestors would surely begrudge a few unkind words for a decisive victory!”

Now one of his advisors, Jung Eunji, spoke: “My lord, that may be so; but t