Empress Jiang
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 14: The Double Game
Hanseong (Seoul), Joseon Kingdom, Summer, 1446 - Autumn, 1449
Age 30-33
The Chinese envoy arrived in the sixth month of summer, as he did every three years.
Ambassador Wei was a career diplomat—smooth, observant, and dangerous in the way that Ming court officials always were. He came with the standard tributary mission: inspect Korea’s compliance with its obligations, assess the political situation, and report back to Beijing.
But he also came for something else.
Something only Zhao Lanying and Mi-sun knew about.
The private intelligence briefing that had been part of her arrangement with Beijing for the past fourteen years.
The official reception was elaborate.
Young King Seong, now ten years old, sat on his throne in full royal regalia. Zhao Lanying stood beside him as Empress Dowager and Regent, dressed in formal court robes that carefully balanced Korean tradition with subtle Chinese influences.
Ambassador Wei bowed respectfully. “Your Majesty. Your Imperial Majesty. The Son of Heaven sends his greetings and congratulations on the continued prosperity of the Korean kingdom.”
Seong recited his prepared response perfectly: “We are honored by the Celestial Emperor’s attention. Korea remains a loyal tributary, grateful for the wisdom and protection of the Ming Dynasty.”
The formal pleasantries continued. Gifts were exchanged. The ambassador praised Korea’s stability under the regency. Everyone performed their roles with practiced precision.
But throughout the ceremony, Zhao Lanying caught Ambassador Wei’s eye several times. Brief glances. Meaningful. Confirming what they both knew:
The real meeting would come later. In private.
That evening, after the court had dispersed, Mi-sun came to Zhao Lanying’s chambers.
“Ambassador Wei requests a private audience to discuss ‘matters of mutual interest between the courts.’”
“Of course he does.” Zhao Lanying was removing her formal jewelry, each piece heavy with symbolism. “When?”
“Tomorrow evening. He suggests your private study rather than an official chamber. Fewer ears.”
“Agreed. You’ll attend?”
“Naturally. He’s accustomed to my presence by now.”
Zhao Lanying smiled slightly. “I imagine Beijing’s intelligence reports mention you prominently.”
“They should. I’m half of what makes this arrangement work.” Mi-sun paused. “What will you tell him this time?”
“The truth. Selectively.” Zhao Lanying set down the last hairpin. “Korea is stable. The young King is being well-educated. The regency functions smoothly. Trade is flourishing. No threats to Ming interests.”
“All true.”
“All incomplete. But true enough.”
“And what will you ask in return?”
“The usual. Continued Ming support for the regency. Trade advantages. Intelligence on Japanese movements. And most importantly, confirmation that Beijing remains satisfied with Korea’s tributary compliance.”
“Which you’ll use to silence any ministers who question your authority.”
“Exactly.” Zhao Lanying met Mi-sun’s eyes in the mirror. “The beauty of this arrangement is that everyone gets what they want. Beijing gets intelligence and a stable, compliant Korea. I get legitimacy and leverage. And Korea gets trade benefits and Ming protection.”
“And the deception?”
“Is that Beijing doesn’t realize how much I’m NOT telling them. They think I’m their agent. I let them think that. But I serve Korea’s interests—which happen to align with mine.”
Mi-sun smiled. “You learned well in the Forbidden City.”
“I learned that information is currency. And that the key to playing two sides is making each think you’re entirely loyal to them.”
The private meeting took place the following evening.
Ambassador Wei arrived with only one attendant—a silent eunuch who served as his secretary. Zhao Lanying received him in her study with Mi-sun present.
Tea was served by a maid Mi-sun had personally trained. The woman poured, bowed, and withdrew. The doors were closed. Guards posted at a distance that prevented eavesdropping.
Complete privacy.
Ambassador Wei set down his tea cup and smiled. “Your Imperial Majesty. Shàngyí. It’s always a pleasure to have these unofficial conversations.”
“The pleasure is mutual, Ambassador. How is the Celestial Court?”
“Prosperous. The Emperor is well. His advisors remain ... interested in Korean affairs.” Wei’s tone was mild, but the message was clear: Beijing was watching.
“As they should be. Korea’s stability serves Ming interests.”
“Indeed. Which is why I’m here to understand the current situation more thoroughly than official reports allow.” Wei leaned forward slightly. “The regency has now lasted three years. Some in Beijing wonder about its ... durability.”
Carefully phrased. But Zhao Lanying understood: Beijing wanted to know if she could maintain control. If the regency was stable or if Korea might descend into political chaos.
“The regency is entirely stable,” she said calmly. “His Majesty is ten years old. Too young to rule independently. I serve as Regent with the full support of the court and the confidence of the Korean people. When he comes of age, I will step aside. Until then, Korea benefits from experienced governance.”
“And the young King? How is his education progressing?”
“Excellently. He studies the Confucian classics. He’s learning statecraft, history, and proper governance. He’ll be well-prepared to rule when the time comes.”
All true. What she didn’t mention: Seong was being trained to defer to her judgment. To rule as she’d taught him. To maintain her policies even after the regency formally ended.
Wei nodded. “The Emperor will be pleased to hear this. A well-educated king serves everyone’s interests.”
“Indeed.”
“And domestic challenges? Any significant opposition to the regency?”
Here was the delicate part. Wei was asking if there were factions Beijing should know about. If there was instability that might threaten Ming interests.
Zhao Lanying chose her words carefully. “The transition from King Munjong to the regency was smooth. Most officials support the arrangement. There have been minor concerns—some ministers prefer more rapid transfer of authority to the young King—but these are natural growing pains. Nothing that threatens stability.”
True but incomplete. She didn’t mention that she’d systematically removed or neutralized anyone who might actually challenge her. Didn’t mention the intelligence network that caught dissent before it could organize. Didn’t mention that “minor concerns” were resolved through pressure and leverage before they became problems.
Wei made a note. “And economic matters? Trade?”
This was safer ground. “Korea’s economy is strong. Agricultural production is up. Trade with Ming provinces continues to benefit both kingdoms. We’ve also managed to contain Japanese trading ambitions—they wanted permanent establishments, but we’ve limited them to renewable annual agreements.”
“Containing Japanese influence serves Ming interests.”
“That’s why we did it.” Zhao Lanying smiled. “Korea’s loyalty to the Ming Dynasty remains absolute. We understand our place in the tributary system.”
More truth. More incompleteness. She didn’t mention that controlling Japanese trade also served her domestic power. That keeping foreign influence limited prevented external powers from supporting potential rivals.
Everything she told Wei was true. Just not the whole truth.
The conversation continued for another hour. Wei asked about military readiness, relations with northern tribes, internal stability, the young King’s health.
Zhao Lanying answered every question with carefully curated information. Enough truth to be verifiable. Enough omission to protect her real position.
Finally, Wei set down his cup. “Your Imperial Majesty, I will report to Beijing that Korea remains stable, prosperous, and loyal. The regency serves the kingdom well. The Emperor will be pleased.”
“I’m honored by His Celestial Majesty’s continued confidence.”
“There is one final matter.” Wei’s tone shifted slightly. More serious. “Beijing wishes to ensure that Korea remains alert to external threats. Specifically, we’re concerned about Jurchen movements in the north and potential Japanese expansionism. The Emperor would appreciate continued ... awareness ... of these matters.”
Translation: Keep reporting intelligence on Korea’s neighbors. That’s the price of Beijing’s support.
“Of course. Korea shares these concerns. We maintain careful observation of both northern and eastern borders. Any significant developments will be communicated through appropriate channels.”
“Excellent.” Wei stood, bowing. “Then I believe our business is concluded. I’ll prepare my official report, and we’ll conduct the formal diplomatic ceremonies before I depart.”
After Wei left, Zhao Lanying and Mi-sun sat in silence for a moment.
“Well?” Mi-sun asked.
“He’s satisfied. Beijing will support the regency for at least another three years—probably longer. They see me as valuable: providing intelligence, maintaining stability, containing rival influences.”
“And they don’t suspect?”
“Suspect what? That I’m serving my own interests rather than theirs?” Zhao Lanying smiled coldly. “Why would they? Everything I’ve told him is true. Korea IS stable. The young King IS being well-educated. Trade IS flourishing. We ARE containing Japanese influence.”
“You just didn’t mention that you’re doing it all to consolidate personal power rather than serve Ming interests.”
“Precisely. Beijing thinks I’m their creature—the Chinese-educated princess maintaining loyalty to her training. They don’t realize that I learned in Beijing exactly how to manipulate Beijing.”
Mi-sun nodded slowly. “It’s brilliant. You use their support to crush domestic opposition. But you’re not actually serving them—just letting them think you are.”
“Information is currency,” Zhao Lanying repeated. “I give them what they need to stay satisfied. They give me what I need to stay in power. Everyone wins.”
“Until they discover the deception.”
“They won’t. Because I’m careful to keep Korea genuinely stable and genuinely compliant on matters Beijing cares about. As long as the tribute flows, the borders stay quiet, and Korea doesn’t ally with rivals, Beijing doesn’t look too closely at domestic arrangements.”
“And if they did look closely?”
“Then I’d have a problem. Which is why I ensure they never have reason to look closely.” Zhao Lanying stood. “Prepare the next intelligence packet for Beijing. Make sure it includes useful but not sensitive information about Jurchen tribal movements. Give them something valuable so they continue seeing me as an asset.”
“Already drafted. I’ll send it through the usual channels after the ambassador’s formal departure.”
The formal ceremonies continued for another week.
Ambassador Wei was entertained lavishly. He met with ministers, inspected military units, toured agricultural projects. Everything he saw confirmed Korea’s prosperity and stability.
Before he departed, he had one final public audience with the young King and Empress Dowager.
“Your Majesty, Your Imperial Majesty—I will report to the Son of Heaven that Korea remains a model tributary kingdom. Stable, prosperous, and loyal. The regency serves the dynasty and the Ming interests admirably.”
Young Seong gave his rehearsed response: “We are grateful for the Celestial Emperor’s confidence and protection.”
But it was Zhao Lanying’s response that mattered: “Please convey to His Celestial Majesty that Korea will continue to serve Ming interests with absolute loyalty. The regency exists only to ensure stability until the young King is ready to rule in accordance with the wisdom of the tributary system.”
Perfect words. Perfect tone. Perfect deception.
After the audience, several ministers approached Zhao Lanying.
“Your Imperial Majesty, the ambassador’s report will be most favorable.”
“The Ming Emperor’s continued support is invaluable.”
“The regency clearly has Beijing’s full confidence.”
Zhao Lanying smiled graciously. “We serve both Korea and our obligations to the Ming Dynasty. There is no contradiction.”
The ministers bowed and withdrew, reassured.
What they didn’t realize: she’d just used Beijing’s approval to further entrench her domestic power. Any minister who questioned the regency now also questioned Ming support. Which meant questioning Korea’s tribute relationship. Which was politically impossible.
She’d weaponized Beijing’s confidence.
Turned their approval into a shield against domestic opposition.
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