Abolition of Slavery
In fact, since the slaves were already included in Goryeo's household registers, burning those records would only cause brief confusion—the registers themselves would be fine.
"Suddenly?"
"I hear all the Ho clans are freeing their slaves right now."
"Ah, so that's why you're doing it too, my lord."
"Wait, doesn't that mean we have to pay taxes now?"
"No! My lord! We like being slaves!"
"My lord! We've served the young lady for over a decade now—please stop this!"
"We want to keep working for the Choi household!"
Slaves all around were wailing that they loved slave life. Ugh, these guys really have slavery in their blood. Even Chunsim jumping in midway to declare she'd stay a slave was a bit scary. I could understand it, but it still felt weird. Choosing to be slaves voluntarily?
Well, if you count them as Choi household slaves, sure—but they're not really slaves. They could strut around outside too.
—You lowly wretch, how dare you block my path!
—I'm a slave of the Choi family. Who might you be to block my way, sir?
—W-Watch yourself!
In other words, they got decent treatment outside. It meant even nobles bowed low to Choi slaves just to avoid giving the Chois any pretext. On top of that, slaves got soap as a perk. I'd set it up like a modest wage by having me supply the soap directly.
I'd originally planned it just for Chunsim, but production ramped up enough that to keep the national secret of soap under wraps, I had to buy the slaves' silence. It was worth it. Goryeo folk already loved bathing, so handing out soap? They were over the moon.
"Even if you're freed from slavery, if you choose to keep working for our household, that's up to you."
"Then yeah, that's not so bad, right?"
"Phew, where else would we go if not the lord's house?"
Only then did the slaves cheer their emancipation.
These were the household slaves who worked domestically anyway—like future housekeepers, basically. They handled laundry, cleaning, cooking, all general housework. Called solgeo nobi (household slaves). That term was about to vanish.
Of course, not every freed slave outside the Choi house welcomed it. Some got land allotments and jobs, but these suddenly liberated ones were assigned new roles.
"From now on, you can keep working for your former master's house or go to another as a household slave, but you'll get paid wages. We'll call those handling general housework 'housekeepers'."
And just like that, the Choi house had fully abolished slavery.
Countless officials gaped at the phenomenon. The Ho clans had thrown down the gauntlet, and the Chois accepted—so blocking abolition nationwide was now impossible. Caught off guard, royalists and other bureaucrats had no choice but to free their slaves, weeping all the way.
The Choi retainers and close martial aides followed suit; their lord had done it, so how could they not? Not much really changed, though. Former masters just signed contracts to provide room and board to housekeepers, or waived taxes in lieu. Nobles and commoners being what they were, the power imbalance stayed the same even without slavery.
Still, the line between baseborn and goodfolk was real. At least now, as free commoners, they could complain somewhere if exploited or beaten by their "masters."
Local officials handled most of this mess. Freeing slaves naturally dismantled private armies too. Slaves made up the bulk of Ho clan forces. Sure, there were some local functionaries or native farmers mixed in, but few in number—and farmers were free anyway. The Ho clans weren't dominant yet. Since they'd cooperated well with the Chois so far, their modest private troops were smoothly absorbed into local Byeolcho units under centrally dispatched Byeolchodo-ryeong commanders.
It was absurd—the snowball kept rolling, nailing the final plank of military reform: abolition of private armies.
Now, reforms reared their head again. This time, currency reform.
Goryeo had coins, but barter dominated. Even the top-tier silver ingots (eunbyeong) were hard for commoners to use.
Goryeo tried introducing currency multiple times, but it never caught on. Why? Limited copper imports for minting. Long habit of barter meant no one grasped coin utility. Agriculture and land ruled the economy—no real coin environment. Highborn could use silver ingots somewhat.
Even if the original history's martial regime pushed reform, would the people follow? They lacked popular support, crushing minor revolts by force. Given the era's rebellions, their unpopularity was obvious.
But here? Not bad. Ignoring the Ho clans, slave emancipation alone had the nation buzzing. It started with Hong Bokwon's slaves becoming public slaves, then freed and reassigned; Iansa's followed. The Hos tried screwing the Chois by mass-freeing slaves, so we declared nationwide emancipation.
Commerce had boomed earlier, wealth accumulated, stability reigned, and even if folks didn't cheer the regime, they weren't cursing it. Byeokrando's trade port exploded with soap and celadon, laying commerce foundations nationwide.
We aggressively imported copper and sulfur from Japan via trade. With goodwill decent and Hos suppressed, it was prime time to try. Paying housekeepers, soldiers, laborers in coins—that was the plan.
I went to Father.
"It's time for currency reform."
"Currency reform? Like Geonwon Jungbo or Haedong Tongbo? They failed."
True. We'd minted before and flopped. Joseon tried too, failed. But conditions were ripe now. Past attempts were like forcing Pokémon evolution without meeting requirements—doomed.
Not anymore.
"No coin environment before. But Byeokrando's boom spread commerce nationwide. Slave freedom boosted support for you, Father. No opposition now. We can import copper from Japan. Success overcomes barter limits, secures wartime finances. Helps in war."
To fight Mongols, prepare everything—finances via coin economy. Paper money later, carefully. Jin and Yuan wrecked theirs overprinting; Goryeo's baochao adoption caused chaos. Late Goryeo lost silver ingots to Yuan meddling. Early Joseon had jeohwa paper money but phased it out—supposedly learning from Yuan, though no records say so; bullshit anyway.
Coins before war; paper later.
"We've done so much already, though."
"The Mountain Spirit says it's necessary for the future."
Father, who'd seen the Mountain Spirit's effects, couldn't ignore it.
"Then what should we do?"
Now Father heeded my advice and implemented it. All credit went to him anyway, so he listened to his "Mountain Spirit messenger" daughter.
"Set up a mint first, start minting coins. Initially, force supply and circulation. Mandate coins only in court-controlled areas, accept taxes in coins, pay soldiers in coins."
"Pay salaries in coins? If taxes must be in coins, they'll comply."
Yes. Early chaos, but stockpile coins, sustain coin economy, and salaries in money become natural. Soldiers wouldn't complain.
"Once settled, enact the hwanpo law—exchange cloth bales for coins at fixed rates. People trust cloth, so link values. Taxes in coins will force cloth-to-coin swaps."
"That should work."
"Counterfeiting's the issue. Punish strictly—execution for shaking the economy. Make minting top-tier to deter fakes. I'll handle via Song merchants. And we'll try growing ramie."
Currently, soap and celadon topped trade profits. Celadon was hot; Japanese locals even escorted Goryeo ships to Kyushu.
"Ramie? Grow it ourselves?"
We could grow raw ramie, process red ramie. Huge trade profits.
"If viable, massive boost to coin economy."
"Hm, leave it to you."
Start raw ramie, make red ramie—trade goldmine. We traded ginseng already, but mass raw production overwhelmed.
I summoned the Song merchant right away.
"Trade port's booming, so planning coin circulation. Commoners bartered till now."
"Need mint artisans or coin advice? Advice is easy for a merchant like me."
We were in sync now. He monopolized Goryeo trade, so sharp.
"Right. Setting up a mint."
"But this is national business. Can I really—"
"Planning full ramie trade beyond soap and celadon."
In short: You're my only guy for Song ginseng trade. The merchant, who'd been hedging, rubbed his hands eagerly.
"I love Goryeo. Hope it prospers greatly."
Merchants are so transparent.
"Count on you."
The martial regime brought in Song mint artisans, set up the mint, entrusted minting. Goryeo had prior experience, solid base. Song merchant advised freely; artisans taught anti-counterfeiting thoroughly.
But once minting started, issues arose. High officials hoarded coins for profit, starving circulation.
Mint reform was critical—Choi power pushing it—so Father showed no mercy.
"What the hell is this nonsense at a time like this?"
"My lord, lop their heads off! Crime at this juncture?"
"M-Mercy! Mercy, please!"
Counterfeiters' heads hung in Gaegyeong markets. It proved the regime's dead-serious commitment.
After nearly a year, the minted coins were called Sangpyeong Tongbo.