The Goryeo Great Wall
The Goryeo Great Wall. Unlike that flimsy Great Wall of China, which got invaded by barbarians almost like an annual festival whenever there was a gap, this one would be truly impregnable. It had no choice but to be—Mongols were the enemy here.
"It's not that bad. Tens of thousands should be plenty."
"You think that's possible?"
By traditional methods, it'd take hundreds of thousands of men and ages. But Goryeo wasn't like that anymore. This wasn't old-school stone masonry.
"With these tools and cement, we've got everything we need. No reason to pour massive manpower into stonework. This'll do fine."
Factory-style assembly lines would minimize both manpower and time. First, assign 5,000 to cement block production. Gravel gathering, sand hauling, form cleaning—jobs that didn't need brute strength. Even weaklings could crank out thousands of blocks a day.
Logistics team next: 8,000 or so. Their job? Hauling hardened blocks up to the mountainside construction site. Keep oxen and horse carts for flat ground. Lay wooden rails on the slopes and use pulleys to drag blocks up. Tough work, so put the strong ones there.
Then assembly crew on-site: maybe 7,000. The real stars. Use cranes to hoist blocks up and play real-life Tetris. Hmm, risky stuff—maybe outsource to outsiders? Bring in Japanese via the Shoni clan. Let them handle high-altitude work.
Security detail? Easy—pull from our Byeolcho Army. They're already stationed at border forts anyway.
Honestly, tens of thousands was enough to draw resources even from the Khitans. The hassle? I'd have to play overseer since it's all cement. But once it's up, peace of mind.
"So you're saying two years with just tens of thousands? Even with your tools, Lord Regent?"
Impossible? Hardly. Prep the stones right, and time shrinks dramatically.
"Traditional way, a stonecutter spends all day shaping one rock. But pour this cement into a form? One rock in ten minutes. That's a 90% labor cut right there."
Hauling efficiency too: four guys grunting one rock uphill? My cranes lift ten at once. Food supply's no issue either. Tens of thousands? Liaodong's output covers it. Pull from mainland Goryeo if needed, work nights too. Complaints? Three shifts, 24/7 operation. Eight-hour days seal it. Pay 'em well, and desperate workers risk it all. Japanese laborers, especially.
Jusuk stroked his goatee gently and nodded as Choi Yeon laid out the grand plan.
"At this scale, even the Capital Bureau will understand."
"They sent you to spy in case I stir up trouble, huh."
Classic Dad—worried sick about his girl.
"Pretty much. Liaodong's the front line against the Mongols. His Lordship worries about you a lot."
"Could be."
Recap: about 25,000 total. Even if it grows later, won't top 30,000. Totally reasonable. Dangerous jobs go to outsiders, so tweak Shoni investment to manpower first. Feed 'em well, pay up—they'll hustle.
In the Capital Bureau, Choi U squinted one eye at Jusuk's report.
"This cement stuff's that good, huh."
Cement. That weird gray goop his daughter used for her gadgets.
"The pontoon bridges made with it turned out rock-solid."
"Amazing."
At that scale, no risk of peasant backlash like China's endless Wall-building.
"Goryeo's got tons of lime for it, they say."
"Lucky break. It's for roads too, right?"
Cement had popped up one day, turning brutal earthworks into a breeze. No grumbling—pure convenience. Plus, surplus funds meant hiring outsiders. What a win.
"Yes. The road from Gaegyeong to Byeokrando's already paved with it."
"And Yoyang? Coming along?"
Yoyang had that sewer system now. Hygiene issues? Slashed.
"Yes. The Jurchens all praise the Vice Regent."
His daughter praised by Jurchens. Well, everyone in Liaodong, really.
"Good to hear."
Choi U did fret about contingencies. What if the royals got bold? Worst case, Choe clan booted from mainland? They'd need old Goguryeo lands as backup. Liaodong was their second base—and leverage over the emperor.
"My girl's something else."
Yeon's decades of work outshone 300 years of royal "achievements." And it kept growing. This wall? A mountain spirit's barrier against invaders. Truly blessed lineage. Choe rule was Goryeo's true destiny. Currency reform? Nailed. Insane.
Taejo the Great? Could he match his daughter? Unification was big, but northwards push stayed policy only—no heir reclaimed Liaodong. Envoys didn't count.
"Dodged a bullet not marrying her to Kim Yakseon."
"How's that fool faring?"
"Like a playboy. Hooked up with gisaeng every day, they say."
Daily gisaeng romps. No way his daughter paired with that scum.
"Tsk tsk. Disaster averted. She's Vice Regent now—grant her every whim. That's how Choe lasts a millennium."
This wall? Fine by him.
Gathering laborers for wall-building was easy. Up to 30,000. Khitans flocked to sign up; Capital Bureau sent men too. I briefed the dispatched officials and generals on my methods.
Showed 'em the big bottleneck: stone production. Watch these lime-born rocks stack into walls.
"Stones this easy?!"
Cement blocks popping from forms one by one.
"Not easy, but close enough."
Mongols won't breach this. Impenetrable wall of woe for invaders.
"Definitely low manpower."
"Praise me."
Shoni sent tons of workers—not a few, a flood. Straight to wall duty. Pay and feed 'em—they'd grind.
"This is a crane. Lifts stones. Cuts hauling time big."
"Overseers will watch, but top workers get 'Laborer of the Month,' extra pay, food, prizes."
Pure motivation. Symbolic push for harder, better work.
"Wall done? Top performers hired by Capital Bureau. Overseers—lead your teams, build!"
"""Yes, Lord Regent!"""
Anchor down. Construction launched. Rest? Keep laborers happy. Stuff 'em with food. Fried chicken? Manchu pigs give lard. Fry birds in it—nice.
Main staple's rice, though.
"Food stocked?"
"Yes, prepped for Mongol war."
"Good. Mongols no worry."
"Yeah. What can those losers do?"
Right. Twice beaten, they pivoted west. Left Jin as a dying empire. What're they gonna say about us?
"True. Unless they swing west armies back."
Idiots just shipped thousands of women again. Eastern European types. Not prime labor, but customs, looks—hot brides now. Low numbers, exotic appeal.
I hooked up top workers here with 'em. Western girls settled in Goryeo fine. Better than Mongol toys.
We loot Mongols? No more of that. But curb Europe too—let eco-wreckers run wild. Gains us perks.
"Potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn growing too. Hmm."
Reports said nationwide spread yielded eats. Looked right.
"How eat this potato?"
Choi Hang eyed his. Jurchen officials gawked too.
"No real recipes yet—boil simple."
Boiled, salted—hmm. Not modern spuds, but era-solid. Menu variety limited, still pass.
Early potatoes suck? These fine. Nostalgic crunch. Stuff you take for granted? Miss it when gone. Found, eaten—bittersweet.
"Huh, not bad."
Yoyang officials approved. Starchy, but with water? Decent.
"Famine filler. Grill 'em too—tasty."
Sauces best, but sweet potatoes baked after curing? Days old here—ready. Grill one.
Peel—sweeter than expected. Better grilled than boiled. Not perfect, but sweetish.
"Peeling annoying, but good."
"Dry 'em for portable rations."
Sweet potato jerky. Potato chips later? Endless ideas: fries, tornadoes, corn stuff. Salt-grill for now—universal seasoning.
Self-praise while munching drought crops with salt.
"Wanna diversify these."
"Diversify?"
"Drying."
Jerky-style, probably. Food dev backlog huge.