Suwon Hwaseong (2)
"Si-woo, it was bound to blow up eventually."
Jeong Yak-yong gazed down at the market streets of Hwaseong as he spoke. Everywhere his eyes fell, merchants huddled in small groups, whispering anxiously. The bustle of yesterday had vanished, replaced by an ominous silence hanging over the marketplace.
"The rice supply is drying up. The grain shipments from the southern provinces are being stockpiled in Hanyang's warehouses. The Noron grandees have sealed off the land routes."
The merchants entering Hwaseong were in turmoil. The market, once alive with morning energy, was now deserted, and the grain stalls that had rung with haggling just days ago stood empty, without a single customer. Despair clouded the eyes of the common folk desperate for even a single dou of rice.
"With the granaries empty, people's eyes have changed. At this rate, they won't last a month. Hunger will breach the walls before we even finish building them."
Si-woo silently scanned the market before speaking impassively.
"If the cost of us bringing in rice is cheaper than the cost they're incurring by hoarding it, then we have a chance."
"What do you mean? With the land routes blocked, are you planning to drop rice from the sky?"
Instead of answering, Si-woo turned on his heel.
"Follow me."
The place Si-woo led Yak-yong to was Gupo Port on the seafront before Hwaseong. In one corner of the harbor, a massive object covered with a tarp revealed itself. It was sleek and low-slung, utterly unlike the traditional grain ships—a world apart.
The Gigi-cheong's first prototype vessel: Jilpung.
Yak-yong furrowed his brow and circled the ship.
"Why is the hull shaped so strangely? Even the sails are different from what I'm used to. Will this thing even float properly? The sea's currents aren't as forgiving as you might think."
"Traditional sails are useless without a tailwind. But this is different."
Si-woo pointed to the devices attached along the hull, one by one. The cold texture of steel met his fingertips.
"We've applied variable rigging and a central keel, precision-machined at the Gigi-cheong. It can zigzag through the water regardless of wind direction—tailwind or headwind, it doesn't matter. It doesn't rely on the whims of nature."
"What if the wind dies completely? If the West Sea goes flat as a sheet, your sailboat becomes nothing but a log floating on water. Are we just supposed to sit there sucking our thumbs?"
"Then the able-bodied men inside will turn the compound pulley reduction gears. It's designed so minimal effort spins the massive propulsion paddlewheels, conquering the currents. No steam needed."
Yak-yong still looked skeptical.
"Sounds plausible, but I need to see it move to believe it. A few men pushing a whole ship? Is that even possible?"
"Then watch."
At Si-woo's command, the ship began to move. The sails caught the wind at an angle, taut and full, while the paddlewheels beside the hull spun vigorously, kicking up white foam. On the windless, serene sea, Jilpung glided smoothly like a living fish.
Yak-yong gripped the railing, eyes wide.
"This... it's really moving. No oars, sails doing nothing, yet it's cutting through the sea!"
"While the Noron grandees block the roads and let rice rot, we'll seize the sea routes with this ship. Once logistics speed changes, their hoarded rice becomes a noose around their own necks."
Once Jilpung began unloading massive quantities of rice from Honam at Hwaseong's harbor, the skyrocketing rice prices stabilized for the moment. But the Noron quickly drew their second blade. They systematically withdrew Sangpyeong Tongbo coins from Hanyang and surrounding areas, draining them from circulation.
"We have goods, but no money to buy them with! Coins are harder to find than stars in the sky—how are we supposed to do business?!"
Merchants swarmed the Gigi-cheong gates, shouting in protest. The Noron watched with smug grins. Their calculation: even with rice, no money in circulation meant the market would collapse.
But at that moment, Si-woo stood before a hefty mechanical device in one corner of the Gigi-cheong. It was a precision press printing machine, meticulously crafted by the Gigi-cheong scholars. With each turn of the handle, crisp patterns stamped onto pristine white paper.
"Yak-yong, while they hide heavy copper coins in chests, we'll embed value in this light paper."
Si-woo picked up a freshly printed sheet. It bore a vivid image of the Hwaseong haenggung palace, intricate geometric designs, and boldly inscribed text.
Hwaseong Certificate - One dou of Rice
Yak-yong took the paper, flipping it front and back. A hollow laugh escaped him.
"This is just a scrap of paper. The people won't accept it as money. They'd scoff and toss it away. Joseon's folk trust only the weight of visible metal."
"Then come see."
Si-woo opened the warehouse doors. Inside, sacks of Honam rice brought by Jilpung and silver ingots gifted by King Jeongjo were stacked to the brim. Yak-yong's eyes wavered slightly.
"We'll publicly announce, in the Gigi-cheong's name, that anyone bringing these certificates can exchange them anytime for rice or silver from this warehouse. Ask the merchants: will they haul thousands of nyang in heavy coins on carts, glancing nervously at the Noron, or trade boldly with this single slip tucked in their bosom?"
Yak-yong fell silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"Faith is money, then. A mad idea... but with you, it just might work."
The next day, proclamations went up across Hwaseong, and the Hwaseong certificates began circulating. Skeptical at first, the merchants' eyes changed when they witnessed exchanges for real rice at the Gigi-cheong warehouse on the spot. No need to slow down with heavy coin carts or fret over thieves.
By the third day, within Hwaseong's walls, the certificates were trusted more than coins.
Word reached Hanyang, and the Noron ministers' faces turned ashen.
"Trading with paper? Is this madness?!"
"They exchange certificates for rice immediately... Does that Gigi-cheong warehouse really have the grain?"
"Our painstakingly collected Sangpyeong Tongbo becomes worthless scrap outside Hwaseong's walls! Without money circulating, how can we lend at interest or buy goods?!"
Screams echoed through the Noron estates in Hanyang. The coins they'd scraped from across the nation, buried or locked away, were now mere cold copper lumps, worthless in Hwaseong's vast economic ecosystem.
Si-woo lightly shook a fresh Hwaseong certificate from the press and murmured.
"Grandees, while you weighed coins and filled your granaries, I spun the market on credit. Now those heavy coins are your burden—let's see how long you last."
Unable to block the certificates, the Noron made their final desperate move. They secretly colluded with vicious West Sea pirates to raid grain ships bound for Hwaseong.
"If the ship sinks, a lifetime's fortune vanishes—who'd risk the sea? I can't trade my life for it!"
Merchants slumped dejectedly at the harbor, abandoning voyages. The sea routes Jilpung had opened turned into a sea of terror overnight.
But Si-woo remained unflustered, erecting a massive signboard stamped with the Gigi-cheong seal in the harbor's center.
Hwaseong Insurance
As merchants buzzed, Si-woo stepped forward with a stack of contracts.
"Merchants, do you fear the sea? Pay a modest fee to the Gigi-cheong and sign this contract. If storms wreck your ship or pirates plunder it to the bottom, we'll compensate 70 percent of the loss immediately in Hwaseong certificates or silver!"
"The state covers our losses? What kind of deal is that?!"
As skepticism lingered, Si-woo raised his voice.
"Your fees pool into a grand fund, becoming the shield that guards your backs. Don't bear the risk alone—share it. This is the strongest backing the Gigi-cheong promises you."
Those with nothing to lose signed first. When a merchant who'd suffered minor pirate damage received compensation on the spot, the harbor flooded with sign-ups.
But Yak-yong pulled Si-woo aside and whispered low.
"Si-woo, paying out claims will empty the Gigi-cheong warehouses. Without catching those pirates, it's pouring water into a bottomless jar. And if you act unilaterally with the ships, you'll give those Noron fossils grounds for treason charges!"
"I know. That's why I set the board."
Days later, Si-woo had an audience with King Jeongjo. Kneeling on the throne room floor, he presented letters detailing pirate damages and Noron traces with both hands.
Jeongjo skimmed them, brow furrowing.
"The pirates are this ferocious? Their intent to choke Hwaseong is blatant."
"This is no mere plunder, Your Highness. In the last fortnight, twelve grain ships bound for Hwaseong were attacked. Curiously, among them all, not one carrying the Noron grandees' shipments suffered a scratch."
Jeongjo's eyes sharpened. Si-woo continued calmly.
"The merchants are paralyzed by fear, abandoning their helms. If we don't break the sea routes now, Hwaseong will starve before the walls are done. That's exactly what they want."
"You see a solution."
"Yes, Your Highness. The Gigi-cheong prototypes can do it. If they turn the sea into a prison, we'll make it their grave."
At the enraged king's command, the matter went straight to the Royal Council. Amid Noron-packed seats, Si-woo stepped forward boldly.
"Your Highness, grant permission for the Gigi-cheong's prototype ships to sweep the pirates and secure Hwaseong's sea lanes!"
The Noron leaders inwardly cheered. 'Toy ships cobbled by scholars against hundreds of pirates? They'll be crushed—then we take his head!'
With eager Noron support, Jeongjo's stamped extermination warrant came down. Clutching official subjugation authority, Si-woo returned to the harbor. High-speed patrol ships under tarps unveiled their might one by one—Gigi-cheong precision variable gears and multi-barrel cannons mounted on new vessels.
Yak-yong smirked at the ships.
"You planned to use these from the start."
"With the grandees casting yes votes, no more treason talk."
Si-woo shouted toward the harbor.
"Merchants, set sail without fear! From today, the Gigi-cheong guarantees your safety on these waters!"
With insurance safeguarding fortunes, royal-armed fleets for escort, merchants one by one gripped their helms. Anchor chains rattled once more at Hwaseong harbor. Beyond the walls, market lights flickered back to life, one by one.