This was the mouse that was born from so great a mountain of diplomacy. The rage of Taikō was so great that, with his own hands, he would have slain Konishi, had not the bonzes plead for his life, claiming that the responsibility of the negotiations rested upon three other prominent persons. As usual, the “false-hearted Coreans” were made to bear the odium of the misunderstanding. The Chinese embassy, dismissed in disgrace, returned in January, 1596, and made known their humiliation at Peking; while the King of Corea, who had been living in Seoul during the negotiations, appealed at once for speedy aid against the impending invasion. Hidéyoshi again applied himself with renewed vigor to raising and drilling a new army, and obtaining ships and supplies. A grand review of the forces of invasion, consisting of one hundred and sixty-three thousand horse and foot soldiers, was held under his inspection. Kuroda, Nagamasa, and other generals, with their divisions, sailed away for Fusan, January 7, 1597, and joined the army under Konishi and Kato. The new levies from China, which had been waiting under arms, crossed the Yalu and entered from the west at about the same time. Marching down through Ping-an and Seoul, a division of ten thousand garrisoned the castle of Nan-on, in Chulla. The Coreans, meanwhile, fitted out a fleet, under the command of Genkai, expecting a second victory on the water. An extinguisher was put on Chin Ikei, who was suspected of being in the pay of Konishi. Genkai, a Chinese captain, had long believed him to be a dangerous busybody, without any real powers from the Peking government, but only used by them as a decoy duck, while, in reality, he was in the pay of the Japanese, and the chief hinderance to the success of the allied arms. On the other hand, this volunteer politician, weary and disappointed at not receiving from China the high post and honors which his ambition coveted, was in a strait. Taikō urged him to secure from China the claim of Japan to the southern half of Corea. China, on the contrary, ordered him to induce the Japanese generals to leave the country. Thus situated, Chin Ikei knew not what to do. He sent a message, through a priest, to Kato, urging him to make peace or else meet an army of one hundred thousand Chinamen. The laconic reply of the Japanese was: “I am ready to fight. Let them come.”