As things seemed quiet now, the king made a royal progress through the north and west, helping the poor, inspecting fortresses, supplanting unpopular prefects; but when he got back he found his old enemy still active, and at Un-ju he had his last great fight with him. In this struggle three thousand of the enemy were killed and thirty-two fortresses were taken. The year 935 A.D. is another mile-stone in Korean history. It marks the end of a dynasty which lacked but eight years of completing a millennium. But we must relate the events of the year in order. Kyŭn-whŭn had many concubines and more than ten sons. Of the latter the fourth named Keum-gang, was the one he loved the best, a boy of robust body and great intelligence. The old man passed by his other sons and named this one as his successor. This of course made trouble at once. The first son, Sin-geum, led a conspiracy and the old gentleman was seized and imprisoned in Keum-san monastery, the young Keum-gang was put to death and Sin-geum ascended the insecure throne of his father, now doubly insecure, since it had lost the masterly genius which of late years had been its only support. But old Kyŭn-whŭn had not played his last card. After three months imprisonment he succeeded in getting his guards drunk (jolly monks those) and escaped to Ka-ju from which point he had the colossal impudence to send a letter to Wang-gön surrendering and asking for asylum in Koryŭ against his own son. It was granted and soon a ship of war arrived with a high official on board to escort the grey old wolf of the south to the Koryŭ capital, where he was received as a guest, given a comfortable house and plenty of servants and the revenues of Yang-ju prefecture. From that point we may believe that he waited patiently to see the overthrow of his sons.
But these are small events compared with what followed. The king of Sil-la determined to abdicate and hand over the remnant of his kingdom to Wang-gön. When he broached the matter to his officials no man raised his voice. They could not assent and they knew there was no use in demurring. The crown prince urged his father to submit the question to the people and to abide by their decision, but the king was determined and so sent a letter to Song-do offering to lay his scepter at the feet of Wang-gön. The crown prince was in despair, refused to see his father, retired to a mountain retreat and ate coarse food as a token of his grief. He died there of chagrin and sorrow.