Jangyongyeong (2)
"I've looked into the Ministry of Rites' movements, Your Excellency. His Majesty has finished preparations to dispatch that bastard Yi Si-woo as a yangjeonsa to the three southern provinces."
At Choi Hyung's report, Kim Gwi-ju slowly set down the teacup he was holding. The tea water rippled gently before stilling. Kim Gwi-ju's eyes turned to the weathered wooden box on the table.
"Crawling all the way to Gyeongju on his own two feet... Walking right into the jaws of death."
Kim Gwi-ju pulled out a faded bundle of papers from the box and slowly ran his fingers over them. They were sheets covered in bizarre equations that no Joseon mathematician could decipher—papers holding Yi Si-woo's secrets.
"It was hard to make a move in Hanyang with His Majesty's eyes and ears everywhere, but Gyeongju is different. That's the land where the Gyeongju Kim clan has put down roots for generations and blots out the very sky. Not even a breath of wind passes without my permission."
Choi Hyung stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Your Excellency, look at these strange scribbles on these papers. Even the Minister of Rites and the Chief Scholar of Sungkyunkwan couldn't make sense of them. The moment that bastard sets foot in Gyeongju, use this as evidence to brand him a Western-learning monster from the Mubumu Army."
Kim Gwi-ju's eyebrow twitched. Choi Hyung pressed on. "Frame him as a heretical scholar who believes in Catholicism, and even His Highness won't dare protect him. In Gyeongju, it's easy to handle things away from the capital constables' eyes—cut off his head, then report him as part of the Catholic rabble afterward."
Kim Gwi-ju's lip curled into an arrogant smile. "His Highness's favorite turns out to be a Catholic-tainted monster... A fine picture indeed. Yi Si-woo, that clever head of yours will soon roll in the dirt of Gyeongju."
Flames hotter than torchlight flickered in Kim Gwi-ju's eyes.
A month had passed since the founding of the Jangyongyeong. A thousand sturdy recruits stood in a vast circle on the Hwaseong training grounds. It was the day to relieve the subtle tensions within the Jangyongyeong and establish ranks purely by skill—the squad leader duel day.
Chil-bok, leader of the 3rd Squad, gripped his wooden sword and awaited his challenger. Chil-bok was the son of a concubine. His father was a mid-level functionary, his mother a government slave. By Joseon's rigid laws, he was fated to grow old washing horses at the lowest rung of the military. But now, the insignia of the 3rd Squad's leader over a hundred men gleamed clearly on his shoulder.
His challenger was Yi Jin-su, a recruit from a prestigious Hanyang family. A top graduate of the military exam, he saw his loss to Chil-bok in the Jangyongyeong selection test as a lifelong disgrace, having been relegated to squad member.
"A slave's bastard daring to sit above me and give orders? Today, I'll take back that undeserved seat."
Yi Jin-su's voice dripped with arrogance. The training ground fell silent as if doused with cold water. Chil-bok made no retort, merely lowering his wooden sword and fixating on his opponent's center of gravity, as Baek Dong-su had taught him.
Baek Dong-su watched the two from the platform, arms crossed. "The Jangyongyeong's rule is skill over status. Win, and you're squad leader. Lose, and you're squad member. Begin!"
No sooner had Baek Dong-su given the order than Yi Jin-su charged. His textbook swordsmanship from a noble house cleaved the air. Gasps rose from the onlookers at his swift footwork. But Chil-bok's eyes didn't waver. He stuck faithfully to the practical swordsmanship Baek Dong-su had taught him and the emotionless movements Yi Si-woo emphasized.
As the second strike came diagonally, Chil-bok's body shifted sideways like interlocking gears. Whoosh—thwack! While Yi Jin-su's sword sliced empty air, Chil-bok's struck his challenger's side like lightning.
"Argh!"
Yi Jin-su staggered to his knees. Chil-bok pressed forward without mercy, resting his wooden sword on the man's nape. The training ground held only ragged breaths.
Baek Dong-su stepped forward and bellowed, "3rd Squad leader, Chil-bok—victory maintained!"
Yi Jin-su ground his teeth and slammed the ground. His face flushed with rage and shame, but Chil-bok calmly withdrew his sword. "Challenge again next month. Your hands will need to move faster than your mouth then."
Roooar—!
A roar transcending class erupted from the recruits. Yi Si-woo watched with satisfaction and approached Baek Dong-su.
"What do you think?"
"That kid Chil-bok's come a long way in a month. No wasted moves in his swordplay. He didn't even blink when that noble mocked him as a slave's son— he'd already won in spirit."
"Emotions are just needless waste."
Baek Dong-su nodded, then pointed to Yi Jin-su slinking away, pounding the ground, and a few fellow nobles who seemed to sympathize. "See the faces on those noble recruits? It's not just one. There are plenty in the squads seething over status. Won't that cause internal trouble?"
Yi Si-woo scanned the grounds calmly. "I know. But that's not a problem—it's medicine. That frustration will be the perfect whip driving them to win next month's duel. We've shown anyone with skill can be squad leader, so now they'll obsess over victory, not status."
Baek Dong-su stuck out his tongue in admiration and laughed. "Director of the Gigi-cheong, you're a scary one. Using men's hearts like chess pieces."
Pride, anger—whatever can be used, we'll pour it all in.
Yi Si-woo looked south to the sky instead of replying.
The air in the royal council chamber hung heavy. The Chief State Councillor unrolled a report on southern damages.
"Your Highness, Japanese pirates have appeared in Busan, Ulsan, and Gyeongju areas, plundering villages and burning offices. The damage is double last year's, and though the navy was dispatched, the pirates' ships are faster and sturdier—we keep losing them."
King Jeongjo's face hardened. The ministers murmured. Then Chae Je-gong spoke. "Your Highness, the southern navy alone isn't enough. We must send reinforcements."
Sim Hwan-ji rose immediately. "Your Highness, this is a fine opportunity. It's been three months since the Jangyongyeong was founded, yet they've seen no real combat. Trained solely on triple the regular army's pay from the Gigi-cheong's vast funds—why not have them prove their worth now?"
Kim Gwi-ju followed up. "I agree, Your Highness. No matter how fierce in training, soldiers who haven't smelled blood aren't true soldiers. Send the Jangyongyeong south to exterminate the pirates."
The Noron ministers nodded in unison. King Jeongjo's gaze turned to Yi Si-woo. He read the glint in their eyes. It was a trap. A blatant lure to Gyeongju.
If I dodge knowing it's a trap, the Jangyongyeong stays a shiny but useless ornament forever.
Yi Si-woo stepped forward. "The two lords speak truly. I will personally lead the Jangyongyeong elites south. We'll not only exterminate the pirates but reclaim the fields and secure the lost tax base."
The mention of fields stirred the court again. King Jeongjo stared at Yi Si-woo long, then nodded. "Very well. Since the Gigi-cheong Director of the Jangyongyeong wills it, I grant permission. Use this chance to eradicate the South Sea pirates decisively and resurvey the fields in Busan, Gyeongju, and Ulsan to shore up the national treasury."
King Jeongjo rose and looked down at Yi Si-woo. "But you must return alive. Return alive and prove the results weren't in vain."
"I shall engrave it on my heart, Your Highness."
Yi Si-woo bowed and withdrew. Sim Hwan-ji and Kim Gwi-ju's lips twitched upward faintly. It was going to plan. No matter how capable Yi Si-woo, the moment he set foot in their Gyeongju backyard, he'd be bound hand and foot, flailing helplessly.
Preparations moved like lightning. Five hundred Jangyongyeong elites were assembled; the rest would guard Hwaseong. Baek Dong-su scanned the roster and approached Yi Si-woo.
"I put Chil-bok's 3rd Squad on the list. First real fight—I need to watch them myself."
"You're coming too, brother?"
"Of course. Can't just sit back while the boys I trained draw first blood. Won't rest easy otherwise."
Yi Si-woo chuckled and nodded. Baek Dong-su bolted to the training grounds to rally the recruits.
That night, Jeong Yak-yong visited Yi Si-woo's tent as he packed.
He sat and immediately whispered, "Si-woo, I heard about the council today. You know it's a trap, yet you're walking in?"
"I know."
"Then why step into the lion's den? It's unlike you—seems reckless."
Yi Si-woo paused packing and met his eyes. "Dodging lets them lead. The Jangyongyeong gets branded as untested money pits. And there's another reason to go to Gyeongju."
Jeong Yak-yong raised an eyebrow. Yi Si-woo pointed to the map. "It's the Gyeongju Kim clan's stronghold. As long as Kim Gwi-ju's rooted there, their hidden lands stay concealed. Using the field survey as cover lets me touch what they've buried."
Jeong Yak-yong fell silent, then let out a low, incredulous laugh. "Walk into the trap and flip the board instead?"
"To uproot that ancient tree Kim Gwi-ju, this risk is the cost."
"As long as he's rooted in Gyeongju, Joseon's land surveys are half-measures. I'll confirm those roots myself this time."
Jeong Yak-yong rose, clapping Yi Si-woo's shoulder. "Come back alive. I'll buy you a proper drink then."
"Guess I'll have to survive for that drink."
The next dawn, the Jangyongyeong's black banners pierced the cold mist, fluttering south. From Hwaseong's walls, Jeong Yak-yong watched silently until the column vanished beyond the horizon.