Onseong Assignment (6)
Three days had passed since the grain distribution in the front courtyard of the Onseong government office. The people's groans had turned to laughter, but the atmosphere in the inner quarters remained frozen solid. More precisely, Ho-bang Park Seong-sul's lifeline was hanging by a thread.
"Ho-bang Park, have you brought the ledgers?"
At Yi Si-woo's indifferent voice, Park Seong-sul thrust forward a bundle of documents, gasping for breath with blood trickling from his nose. After three sleepless days and nights—barely four hours of shut-eye—his haggard face looked like a flounder dragged from the water.
"Y-yes... My lord. I've recounted every household in Onseong, every registered plot, down to the exact number of livestock in each family—not a single coin's worth off. This lowly one feels like his eyeballs are about to pop out and leave him blind..."
Yi Si-woo scanned the ledgers with the eyes of a hawk. In the deathly silence broken only by the rustle of turning pages, Park Seong-sul could hear his own heartbeat thundering like drums.
"If the numbers are wrong, the office's decrees are empty bluster. Without solid evidence, governance is no better than a blind man's guide."
Yi Si-woo jabbed a finger at one entry in the ledger.
"It's those sloppy brushstrokes you've fudged all these years that let the people starve to death. The real fields total a hundred maje, but you logged eighty, and the harvest from those missing twenty went straight to Choi Du-sik's belly. From now on, everything in Onseong gets recorded with precise figures. From headcounts to the number of claws on the livestock—not a single detail escapes. Don't even think of fooling my eyes."
Park Seong-sul slammed his forehead to the floor, wailing inwardly. He must be a wicked demon who squeezes blood from numbers! One glance from those eyes, and even a single hidden coin will be stripped bare!
As Park Seong-sul trembled and tried to back away, Yi Si-woo called him back.
"Ho-bang Park, why the rush? We're not done yet."
"Y-yes...? B-but... the calculations are all finished, my lord..."
"How many chickens are in the back courtyard?"
"Chickens? Out of nowhere...?"
"Go count them. And by tomorrow morning, make a ledger of how many eggs they lay a day and how many hop of feed they eat. If there's even a single hop off, your breakfast will be a lashing. Remember that."
Park Seong-sul's face drained to the color of dirt. Staggering out to the courtyard, he grabbed his subordinate clerks by the collars and screamed.
"Did you hear that, you blockheads? Get to the chicken coop now and guard their asses! Log every egg the second it drops! Miss one, and it's not just me—I'll yank every topknot off your thick skulls!"
The clerks, looking like they'd been struck by lightning from a clear sky, swarmed the coop. The dignified government officials climbed perches, noses buried in hens' tails—an absurd spectacle. One clerk sneezed through a barrage of feathers from flapping wings, yet meticulously noted every dropping between the talons. The back courtyard devolved into a hellscape of human wails and the chickens' baffled clucks.
With that pandemonium at his back, a lively cheer erupted outside the office, accompanied by the jingle of horse bells. Yi Si-woo's head turned toward the window.
"My lord! Man-seok's back! I've brought the Uiju merchant caravan as ordered!"
A faint smile tugged at Yi Si-woo's lips. The awaited supplies had arrived.
Dozens of wagons streaming through the main gate made for a grand sight. Leading them, dust-caked Man-seok sprinted to Yi Si-woo upon spotting him and prostrated himself.
"My lord! Just as you commanded, I've rounded up Uiju's sharpest merchants! Mareongseo seeds, beans, firewood for winter, farming tools—everything's loaded up! That silver we stripped from Choi Du-sik's storehouse? It worked wonders. Even Uiju's big-shot traders wore out their shoe soles trekking this rugged north just to follow!"
The front courtyard overflowed with crates from the Uiju caravan. Yi Si-woo inspected each wagon's load meticulously, nodding in satisfaction. But the merchants who'd brought the goods and the watching commoners wore faces full of doubt.
In the midst of that bustling chaos, a middle-aged man in fine silk, trailing Man-seok, approached Yi Si-woo cautiously and bowed. He was Im Chi-gwon, head of the Uiju caravan.
"This lowly one is Im Chi-gwon. My lord, I've traded across the eight provinces my whole life, but I've never seen anyone order this much cargo to remote northern Onseong all at once. Especially... what on earth possessed you to buy a mountain of these ugly root lumps? As a merchant, the curiosity's kept me up nights."
"To me, they look fit only as beast fodder. Surely you're not planning something grand with these, are you?"
Curiosity laced Im Chi-gwon's voice. He'd handled every manner of goods over countless miles, but he'd never met an official who eyed dirt clods with such conviction.
Instead of answering, Yi Si-woo had a large brazier brought to the courtyard center.
"Man-seok, light it up."
"Yes, my lord!"
Yi Si-woo personally picked the sturdiest mareongseo from a wagon and buried them deep in the ashes. As acrid smoke rose and time passed, the air in the courtyard shifted. Amid the thick dust, a savory, subtly sweet aroma seeped out—something utterly unfamiliar.
"Wh-what's that smell? How can it be so sweet?"
The commoners sniffed the air and crowded the brazier. Deeming the moment right, Yi Si-woo raked the ashes with a stick and pulled out the perfectly baked potatoes.
Blowing off the heat, he peeled one and took a big bite.
"See here. I'm eating it first, aren't I? You're scared of the strange look, thinking it's poisoned. But this isn't poison—it's heaven's gift to fill your empty bellies. This treasure will erase the word 'hunger' from Onseong this winter."
Yi Si-woo broke off pieces and handed them to Im Chi-gwon and an elderly farmer nearby. The old man popped a piece in his mouth skeptically, then his eyes bulged.
"N-no way! This taste...! It's sweet! No honey on it, yet how is it so sweet? My lord, you're saying this just grows straight from the ground?!"
Children clutching the precious tubers like gold chewed with puffed cheeks, chanting "Magistrate's the best!" over and over. Watching their innocent cheers, Yi Si-woo felt a strange twinge in his chest.
"Indeed...! No better famine crop for a bad harvest. My lord, do you plan to spread this across all Onseong and upend the markets?"
To Im Chi-gwon's question, Yi Si-woo brushed potato peels from his hands and replied.
"It's not just about swapping one market good. Head Im, Onseong's barren northern soil barely yields rice worth eating—it's all chaff. But mareongseo's different. My method's based on meticulous soil fertility management."
Yi Si-woo began sketching complex circles and lines on the ground with a stick.
"Planted beans here this year? Then beans absolutely go here next year."
He pointed firmly at the wagon brimming with mareongseo.
"Beans infuse the soil with vitality you can't see—nitrogen nodules fattening the earth like tonic. Mareongseo thrives on that leftover energy. Rotate them right, or the soil depletes fast and dies."
Im Chi-gwon's eyes widened in shock.
"Head Im, those seeds you brought? They're the key asset turning next year's Onseong surplus into profit. Maximizing yields without resting the land—that's my first blueprint for transforming Onseong."
"My lord... this lowly one's goosebumps won't quit. Calculating yields and converting to value with that foresight... I've learned a thing or two."
Yi Si-woo smiled without reply and pulled a pre-prepared blueprint from his sleeve, handing it to the blacksmith.
"And those farming tools you brought, Head Im—they won't do as-is. Here's my design. Tilt the plow blade 15 degrees flatter, shift the handle's balance back. Cuts ox strain by thirty percent, digs half a hand deeper. Keep the forge fires roaring. Sharp tools are the only way to spare farmers' blood and sweat."
The blacksmith gaped at the intricate drawing he'd never seen the likes of.
Yi Si-woo's orders flowed without a hitch or deviation. He turned to the dazed clerks.
"By tomorrow morning, draft the distribution ledger for these supplies. Fastest and most accurate gets a sack of mareongseo and a special bonus. Slowest or wrong numbers? You'll clean the chicken coop tomorrow."
The clerks' eyes blazed at the tantalizing carrot of bonus pay. Abacuses clacked like bursting beads.
Meanwhile, Park Seong-sul's wails still echoed from the back courtyard. Yi Si-woo ignored the racket, ascending the office's high pavilion to survey Onseong.
Wagons hauled goods, commoners buzzed with hope over the new crop.
Food, fuel, tools... backed by precise accounting. The foundation for Onseong's massive framework is set.
His gaze drifted north beyond the border, to the dark mountains shrouded in shadow. Prosperity draws raiders like flies.
Alright, next up... time to build the strength to defend it.
The overture to Onseong's true transformation had begun.