Lord Min Jeong-ho did not concern himself with the emotional fanfare of victory. Joy, pride, relief—these were currencies for the common man, luxuries for lesser lords. For the patriarch of the Min clan, victory was not an event to be celebrated, but a resource to be exploited. It was an entry in a ledger, a significant asset to be leveraged for maximum return.
His private study was a room of quiet, immense power. It was not opulent like the rooms of court dandies, but every item was of the highest quality—a single, perfect celadon vase on a darkwood stand, a scroll from a famed master calligrapher, a desk carved from a single piece of ancient pine. It was the room of a man who valued substance and legacy above all else.
Seated before him were his three sons, the pillars of his house.
First, Min Ki-tae, the eldest, is the Minister of War. A formidable man in his own right, his face was a mask of stern duty, but beneath it, Lord Min knew, brewed a perpetual, simmering resentment. Ki-tae was the sword of the family.
Second, Min Joon-su. Where Ki-tae was martial, Joon-su was meticulous. He was a man of numbers, of ledgers and tax rolls. His mind saw the kingdom not as a map of provinces, but as a complex flow of revenue and expenditure. He was the vault of the family.
Third, Min Sang-cheol, the youngest, who held no official court title but was perhaps the most insidiously powerful of the three. Sang-cheol was a merchant magnate who controlled a vast network of trade routes, shipping concerns, and informants that stretched from the ports of the south to the markets bordering Ming territory. He was the eyes and ears of the family.
Lord Min Jeong-ho placed the tips of his fingers together, his gaze moving over each of his sons. "Hyun arrives in two days," he stated, his voice calm and devoid of emotion. It was not a piece of news; it was the opening of a strategic briefing. "His victory is total. The narrative is established. He is the hero, the Wolf of the North. Our task is to ensure this popular sentiment is immediately converted into tangible political power."
Min Joon-su, the Minister of Finance, nodded. "The treasury is strained, Father. Hyun's campaign was costly. But the reparations from the Ming will more than cover the deficit. I have already drafted proposals for how those funds should be allocated—primarily to projects that will reinforce our own provincial interests."
"Good," Lord Min said. "Sang-cheol, what of the capital's mood?"
Sang-cheol, the merchant, leaned forward, a subtle, predatory smile on his face. "The city is ecstatic. My agents report that Prince Dae-jung is seen as a fool, a relic. His few allies among the merchants are already seeking ways to discreetly align with us. His faction is crumbling from the ground up. He has no real support where it matters—in the flow of coin."
"As expected," Lord Min murmured, his gaze finally settling on his eldest. "Ki-tae. The military."
Minister of War Min Ki-tae's jaw was tight. "The army is his. The men of the Steel Vanguard would walk into the sea if he ordered it. The traditionalist generals grumble about his methods, but they cannot argue with the results. They will fall in line."
"Grumbling is not obedience. It is the seed of future dissent," Lord Min corrected coolly. "We must address it. Upon Hyun's return, you will propose a series of promotions. Men loyal to Hyun, and by extension, to this family, are to be placed in key command positions within the Palace Guard and the Capital Garrison. We will surround the throne with our own."
Ki-tae's eyes flashed with a familiar, dark fire. "And what of the Emperor's men?"
"The Emperor is ailing," Lord Min stated simply. "His authority wanes with his health. He made his choice when he named Hyun Crown Prince. He will not obstruct us from securing his investment."
The cool, dismissive way his father spoke of the Emperor—the man who had conspired with him in a deal that cost him his sister—always set Ki-tae's teeth on edge. "The deal…" he began, his voice low and dangerous.
"The deal was that my grandson would be Crown Prince," Lord Min cut him off, his eyes like chips of ice. "My daughter's life was the price paid for that contract. It was a tragic, but necessary, expenditure. Do not speak to me of sentiment, Ki-tae. I am speaking of legacy. Her sacrifice will not be squandered on your maudlin regrets. It will be the foundation of an empire for our bloodline."
A tense silence filled the room. Joon-su and Sang-cheol looked down, uncomfortable witnesses to this old, deep wound. Ki-tae's hands were clenched into fists on his knees, but he held his tongue. He would obey. He always did. His resentment was the fuel for his fierce loyalty to Hyun, a desperate need to make his sister's sacrifice mean something. His father knew this and used it without compunction.
"Now," Lord Min continued, as if the bitter exchange had never happened. "The political maneuver. Prince Dae-jung is an irrelevance, but he is a vocal one. We must isolate him completely. The welcome ceremony is the perfect stage."
He looked at Min Joon-su. "You will ensure that the funds allocated for the ceremony preparations are channeled through officials loyal to us. Let Dae-jung's household find their requests for celebratory banners and banquet provisions mysteriously delayed by 'bureaucratic oversight'."
He then turned to Sang-cheol. "You will spread the word through the marketplace. Any merchant who still openly supports Prince Dae-jung will find their contracts reviewed and their access to our shipping routes… complicated."
Finally, he looked back at Ki-tae. "And you, my son, will make a public show of consulting with Hyun on all military matters from the moment he arrives. Defer to him. Laud him. Show the court that the Ministry of War and the Wolf of the North are one and the same. Let no one doubt where the true martial power of this kingdom lies."
He leaned back, his work done. The plan was in motion. It was a coordinated assault on all fronts—financial, social, and military—designed to elevate Hyun and obliterate his rivals.
"Our grandson is returning," Lord Min Jeong-ho said, his voice a low, satisfied murmur. "He has won his war. Now, we will win his peace. We will ensure the ledger of this dynasty is written in our family's name, balanced with the blood of our enemies and, when necessary, the blood of our own."