On his arrival, he requested to see Konishi, who, however, evaded him, excusing himself on the plea of expecting to hear from Taikō, after which he promised to hold an interview. Konishi then departed for Japan, taking Chin Ikei with him. On his return he still avoided the Chinese envoy, for he had no definite orders, and the other generals refused to act without direct word from their master in Kiōto. Meanwhile Chin Ikei, consumed with jealousy, and angry at the Peking mandarins for ignoring him and withholding official recognition and honors, planned revenge against Rishosei; for Chin Ikei believed himself to have done great things for Chō-sen and China, and yet he had received neither thanks, pay, nor promotion for his toils, while Rishosei, though a young man, with no experience, was honored with high office solely on account of being of rank and in official favor at Peking. Evidently with the intent of injuring Rishosei, Chin Ikei gave out that Taikō did not wish to be made King of Chō-sen, but had sent an envoy to China merely to have a high ambassador of China come to Japan, that he might insult or rather return the insult of the sovereign of China, in the person of his envoy, by making him a prisoner or putting him to death. Konishi and Chin Ikei again crossed to Japan to arrange for the reception of the Chinese envoys. The reports started by Chin Ikei, coming to the ears of Rishosei, so frightened him that he fled in disguise from Fusan, and absconded to China. His colleague denounced him as a coward, and declaring that the Chinese government desired only “peace with honor,” sailed with his retinue and two Corean officers to Japan. “And Satan [Chin Ikei], came also among them.” All landed safely at Sakai, near Ozaka, October 8, 1596. Audience was duly given with pomp and grandeur in the gorgeous castle at Fushimi, on October 24th. The ambassador brought the imperial letter, the patent of rank, a golden seal, a crown, and silk-embroidered robes of state. At a banquet, given next day, these robes were worn by Taikō and his officers. Formalities over, the Ming emperor’s letter was delivered to Taikō, who at once placed it in the hands of three of the most learned priests, experts in the Chinese language, and ordered them to translate its contents literally. To Konishi, then at Kiōto, came misgivings of his abilities as a diplomatist Visiting the bonzes, he earnestly begged them to soften into polite phrase anything in the letter that might irritate Taikō. But the priests were inflexibly honest, and rendered the text of the letter into the exact Japanese equivalent. In it the patent of nobility first granted to the Ashikaga shō-gun (1403–1425) was referred to; and the gist of this last imperial letter was: “We, the Emperor of China, appoint you, Taikō, to be the King of Japan” (Nippon O). In other words, the mighty Kuambaku of Japan was insulted by being treated no better than one of the Ashikaga generals!