A Prosperous Nation
"What on earth could be coming?"
"With a fleet that massive, how could there be nothing?"
What if we end up with nothing and it's all for naught? No, that's not possible. We've already traded ginseng, lacquerware, and even Goryeo paper. If we don't strike it rich now, we're in trouble.
And as the Byeolcho Army detachment we'd sent with the fleet stared at the goods unloading from the ships, I was stunned.
Piles of snow-white cotton loomed like mountains, and a sharp, pungent aroma filled the harbor.
First came Arabian horses, cotton seeds, pepper, cloves, frankincense, myrrh, and Hoehoe cheong—cobalt pigment, all in one go. They'd brought techniques and raw materials for clear glass production too, but we'd already imported those overland routes anyway. With this, even if the land routes were cut off, we'd fully secured a sea path for the future.
"This is called cotton. With it, we can make clothes to survive the harsh winter."
In truth, cotton could be used for gunpowder or sails as well. Whatever we did with it later, it would bring immense profit to Goryeo.
"And this is pepper. Everyone knows what this is, right?"
"You've brought this much of something so precious?"
Pepper normally came through Arab middlemen from India, as far as I knew. But they'd hauled in a massive quantity regardless.
Now, think about it. Why could we import so much pepper this time? Direct trade efficiency. By cutting out the middlemen margins, Goryeo had been buying pepper at inflated prices after countless markups at Byeokrando. But sending our own ships changed everything.
This amount would satisfy even the Ho clansmen. Sure enough, their eyes sparkled.
"Ho, this is it!"
"We could sell this to Song merchants for a fortune!"
Exactly. That's the point. Now our friends were finally getting it.
Monopolizing the relay trade margins. In those days, pepper prices ballooned over tenfold passing through countless merchants' hands. If Goryeo claimed those margins, we'd generate staggering profits. The Ho clansmen would get their share, of course—but only if they invested more, giving us priority through the trading companies, say.
Imagine stably selling pepper to Song. What then?
Song had a commercial tax system and state monopolies. They set up tax offices like customs houses at key transport hubs and cities nationwide, systematically collecting from merchants. Transit taxes on traveling peddlers at 2% of goods' value, and transaction taxes at 3% for shop-based traders. With massive trade volumes, it massively bolstered state coffers.
State monopolies let the government monopolize production and distribution of key goods for profit. These systems allowed Song to thrive despite tribute to Liao, Jin, and Western Xia.
A revolutionary way to create value from circulation and consumption.
Goryeo could do soap, ginseng, and celadon. Add cotton cultivation later, and we'd be set. We'd rake in fortunes through commercial taxes and monopolies. Merchants in trading companies could pay taxes all at once through them.
Then I pulled out one more item.
"Especially this—it's a dye. Use it on celadon, and it'll look even more splendid."
What would Goryeo celadon become with dyes?
"Hmm, celadon is fine."
Unfortunately, our Ho friends showed no interest. Well, the government essentially monopolized celadon production. More precisely, the Choi family's pottery guild. Even if the Ho clansmen knew, there was no profit in it for them.
I shrugged and decided to distribute the pepper to the Ho clansmen.
"Alright, then. Investors first—line up. I'll distribute the spices."
As I handed them out, one Ho clansman eyed the cotton.
"Milord Byeolgam. Will you plant these cotton seeds too?"
Of course. They'd be a fantastic business item going forward. Cotton clothes, gunpowder—you name it.
"We will, right? I was just about to mention that."
"What is it?"
Look at them, eyes already gleaming with greed at the pepper and cotton. They could smell the money.
"I'll grant priority planting rights on fields to our first investors. Mass-produce it, and you'll dominate the cotton—er, fiber market with the initial supply."
Just like raising water buffalo. They'd already succeeded there; our Ho friends could handle cotton too.
"Th-then, we'll invest more!"
This was how we'd grow the merchant class. A fiber market from cotton seeds meant separate taxes on it.
"One condition, though. You'll mostly sell these goods, right?"
Time to bring up transit taxes.
Yep.
"Yes? That's right."
"Isn't that merchant activity in the end?"
Buying and selling to make money—that's merchant work, no?
"Wouldn't it be?"
Were they scared of what I might say? They were sweating, staring at me.
Staring like that makes me look like the villain. I was just promoting fair commerce with taxes.
"We'll impose transit and shop taxes on merchants going forward."
2% and 3% of goods' value—that was dirt cheap, wasn't it? Profitable for the Ho clansmen, a steal for the state.
"What are we supposed to live on, then?"
Live on? As if it were impossible. Invest, get luxury goods, sell them, pay taxes—what's the problem? The rich always gripe more.
"No need to panic. It won't be much. Song developed this way to secure revenue, so I'd appreciate your help."
Of course, they'd have to become proper merchants. I trusted our Ho clansmen to do it for the nation. Even if not, reality would force their hand—eyes rolling back at the luxury profits. They'd become merchants to sell them. Could they deny it?
"Good. Good. If you add your own investments like this, I'm truly grateful."
Even tenant farmers get cotton clothes—how great is that? This deal drew even more Ho clansmen into the keelboat ventures.
Meanwhile, our expedition had met the Ainu too. But we had little to sell them. Our goods didn't move much.
They showed some interest in soap and pottery, but wanted something else.
"They wanted weapons, axes, and pots."
The reporting Byeolcho soldier looked sour—probably got strong-armed for weapons. Oh well, if they got something better in return, it was worth it.
"I see."
"Seemed like survival essentials. They eyed glass too."
Glass, huh. We'd given the expedition telescopes and glassware just in case.
"Did we get anything special?"
"Yes, sea otter pelts."
"Ho, whatever the price, right?"
Sea otter pelts were rare luxury items—warm, soft, top-tier fur. Non-native to Song, they were prized novelties from the north. Perfect for high Song officials or the imperial court.
Maybe gift some to the Mongols later? I'd heard ginseng reached the Khan via merchants. Without giving them pretext, they'd have to leave us alone no matter what.
It might be tough, but we didn't need land routes anymore. Overland meant Mongol scrutiny—glass and artisans at best. Sea routes promised far greater gains.
This covered expedition costs and then some. What else might the Ainu need? Shochu? I could make it with my knowledge. A lifesaver in the cold; build goodwill, maybe snag guides.
"Did you set up a base across?"
"Yes, milord. They said it's fine if we want ongoing trade."
Perfect. Any outpost meant influence there. We could expand from it.
Now, time to show the court officials. Plenty doubted my abilities after this expedition and fleet. Flaunt these jackpot goods.
"Behold. These are the items from the fleet that opened the Daesikguo sea route. Still mountains of pepper left."
In the Gyojeong Dogam, I showed the officials heaps of luxuries: pepper, sea otter pelts, cotton, dyes, and more. They fixated on pepper and pelts—knew the real moneymakers.
"All from this one fleet?"
Even Yi Jang-yong gaped. Enough to make us a maritime trade empire. Tough with Mongols on the border, but profits meant more ships, more everything.
"Yes. Direct fleet trade, no middlemen, yields this much profit. Sea otter pelts especially. You all know their value."
"The expedition was a success, then."
Just a success? A resounding triumph. Ainu goods weren't earth-shattering, but pelts weren't chump change.
"These sea otter pelts came from the Ainu, natives of the northern islands above Japan. They traded for survival gear—we gave weapons our Byeolcho had packed just in case."
"Impressive."
Just mutual needs met. Sell the pelts, done.
"This covers costs with plenty left—even after tribute to the court. Now, we'll leverage trade to mobilize national power."
One northern stop wasn't enough. Was hopping to the northern islands real northern scouting? Just a stepping stone. Next: Kamchatka, then around to Alaska.
"That New World you mentioned?"
"Yes. More treasures there. Native tales say finding it means Goryeo claims it effortlessly. We'll grow richer, leave footprints across that vast ocean."
Court already eyed the New World.
"So we need more ships."
Right. Keelboats outclassed panokseon tech already. Keelboats for expeditions, panokseon for coastal defense—clear roles.
Anyway, ships must grow bigger, haul more. Spain-to-America was easier; ours needed perfect stepping-stone bases for endless merchant traffic.
"Our path is clear. Northward, but too far gets brutal cold. Grasslands mean Mongols; heartland blurs our identity, even if our emperor descends from Tang. Sea roads are the answer."
Sea was Goryeo's best bet. Focus solely on it to seize profits first.
"I see your point clearly, milord. Even these native goods prove their worth. Trade continues, then?"
Of course. Money-making—who'd stop?