Chapter 10
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 010
Chapter Title: Heehee, Can't Go
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In Joseon, there's a term called the "Three Lineages."
As the name suggests, it refers to the bloodline of the three kings: King Hyojong, King Hyeonjong, and King Sukjong.
King Hyojong had three sons, but two died young, leaving only his one true heir, King Hyeonjong.
King Hyeonjong had only one son himself: King Sukjong.
King Sukjong had two sons, but his firstborn, King Kyongjong, died after eating raw crab and fresh shellfish before he could have a son of his own. Thus, his half-brother, Yeongjo, inherited the throne.
Yeongjo drowned his own sons in a water jar to exorcise evil spirits before passing the throne to his grandson, Jeongjo. Jeongjo had two sons, but the elder died young, so the younger, Sunjo, took the crown.
Sunjo, who dreamed of a life of leisure, tried to abdicate to his only son, Heonimseja, but the prince died first, and Sunjo followed soon after.
Heonjong was the sole surviving son left by that very Heonimseja.
This tenuous, precarious royal lineage, which began with King Hyojong, came to an end with Heonjong's untimely death. After him, through Cheoljong and Gojong, the legitimacy of the Joseon royal house was utterly buried in the underground vaults.
And there's one thing that all these family members had in common.
"Your Majesty! Banish that insolent barbarian at once and punish him severely!!"
"Does the Prime Minister bark like a dog whenever he sees a barbarian? Would you have me, your king, go back on my word like some spineless fool?"
"Your Majesty is different from the others!"
Their personalities were just exquisite.
Purging King Sukjong.
Water Jar King Yeongjo.
White-Clothed Sado Seja.
Boomer King Jeongjo.
Every one of them, except for Leisure King Sunjo, was blessed with an utterly remarkable temperament—and the final inheritor of that bloodline, Heonjong, was no exception.
"Prime Minister, don't get so worked up. Seeing that boy stirred something in me; I'll have to dive back into my studies."
"Your Highness's gracious will leaves this servant Yi Ji-yeon at a loss for words."
Moreover, Heonjong was only thirteen.
Considering the unique circumstances of the royal family and the pre-modern era, it wouldn't be strange at all if he matured faster than his peers.
In other words...
The infamous "storm and stress" phase of adolescence was right around the corner.
"You're the ones who actually run the country, not me—Grand Royal Dowager and all of you. I can just sit back and study, right?"
"Your Majesty!!"
"I was just testing the waters. Sure, as king, I'm constantly fretting over the nation like a mountain on my back, and sure, it's not like I'm slacking on studies just because the royal lectures got paused over state affairs—"
"Have mercy!"
Yi Ji-yeon suddenly wondered if the king wasn't really keeping his promise for some convoluted reason, but simply because he wanted to ride a horse—or have someone ride one for him.
It was the closest thing to the truth, but as a seasoned yangban, he quickly banished the irreverent thought from his mind.
Meanwhile, watching his ministers grovel in unison filled Heonjong with immense satisfaction. King Yeongjo, King Jeongjo! Watch over me!!
The young king wasn't a fool.
He idolized Yeongjo and Jeongjo as his role models and had a superficial grasp that his ministers treated the king like mere wallpaper while gnawing away at the country.
But he didn't know what to do about it.
He instinctively recoiled at the idea of things being taken from him, but at his tender age and weakness, he had no clue how to take them back.
"You all insist that the child was rude and must be punished, but you say nothing of a sovereign's resolve to honor his word."
"Your Majesty!"
"The boy is remarkably clever. I wish to keep him by my side."
As the ministers exchanged glances, the king's words continued.
"He's staying in Jangdong right now, correct?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"He looked so gaunt and mistreated—it broke my heart. And the pain of losing his father is something I know all too well, a shared sorrow. Thus, I pity the child and wish to summon him to the palace often."
This time, no one begged for mercy—probably because it was too absurd.
Gaunt? Didn't the kid have rosy cheeks and plump flesh?
Was that good? Bad?
Bringing a barbarian—of all places—into the palace regularly was obviously something to oppose... yet Kim Ja-geun and the Andong Kim clansmen stayed silent.
"If Your Majesty insists..."
Heonjong dreamed of snatching that trophy the Andong Kims boasted about and displaying it in the palace.
Kim Ja-geun had expected that planting their close ally Arthur with the king would naturally lead to favorable tales about the Andong Kim clan reaching His Majesty's ears.
Unexpectedly...
The king's proposal passed without significant opposition.
"What are you all doing? Is this even sane? Your Majesty! Chief Scholar!"
Only Prime Minister Yi Ji-yeon was losing his mind and jumping up and down.
The royal lectures weren't just about tutoring the king.
The texts were mostly Confucian classics and histories, which the ministers used as pretexts to criticize the king's rule or policies. In Joseon history, lecture times often devolved into policy brainstorming sessions—and it happened so frequently it was practically routine.
But at this point, with the nation firmly in decline, the lectures had lost their true purpose.
They were done simply because they had to be; skipped because they could be.
The young king hated studying, and the ministers knew full well how idiotic it was to whine to him about the country's mismanagement or flawed policies. What was the point when the Grand Royal Dowager held regency?
Above all, since the Andong Kim clan, Pungyang Jo clan, and other noble houses ran the country—not the king—the lectures had devolved into pure ritual and pomp. The perceptive young Heonjong grew to dread them even more, fueling an endless vicious cycle.
But Arthur's involvement changed things a bit.
"Have you read this before?"
"No, I haven't."
"Speak casually. Your tongue's twisting."
"No."
"Well... You probably haven't read that either."
"Is this Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government?"
"Pfft. Exactly. This condenses its contents."
"I've studied a little!"
"Impressive indeed."
During lectures, Heonjong was surrounded by geezers three to five times his age, force-fed rote lessons about "the king should do this, the nation that." Only a pervert would enjoy it.
But Arthur was young.
For the first time in his life, Heonjong experienced the novel thrill of teaching someone younger than himself.
Moreover, if he slacked even a little, the kid would catch up instantly on whatever he'd just learned. To keep lording it over Arthur and showing off, Heonjong had no choice but to diligently preview the material.
"His Majesty has been applying himself to studies more actively lately, I hear?"
"Indeed. He's asking more questions and seems to be enjoying it somewhat."
"What did I tell you? Bring that boy in, and His Majesty will surely be brimming with enthusiasm."
The effects were clear, so even the initial opponents among the ministers fell silent.
And then...
"It says Qin Shi Huang first coined the term 'emperor,' and thereafter, 'emperor' was used for the Son of Heaven. Does your England have an emperor too?"
"Yes!"
"So your land has a Son of Heaven as well? What do you call him?"
"Caesar or emperor."
"Heavens. Such a convoluted term. So, why do you think that word means 'emperor'?"
"Caesar was an ancient person's name!"
Inside the shell of seven-year-old Arthur Leigh lurked Park In-ho.
As for the Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government, Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping wore out copies, and it still reigned as required reading for the Chinese Communist Party. He hadn't read the original, but to hold his own in conversations with high-ups, he'd at least skimmed self-help summaries.
Plus, his father in this life, Henry Leigh, was obsessed with genius education and hired a tutor early to teach his son Latin. (Greek was planned too, but Mom put a stop to it.)
And learning Latin naturally meant encountering Caesar's Commentaries on the Gallic War first thing.
Arthur had plenty to say.
"—So after eight years, when Caesar subdued all the barbarians and won the war, the Roman court sent him poison."
"Heavens."
"Caesar shouted, 'The die is cast!' turned his army around, and charged on Rome. The civil and military officials panicked—"
"No different from our King Taejo's march on the capital. Caesar must have received the Mandate of Heaven too. Have you told this tale to Kim Ja-geun or anyone else?"
"I told Your Majesty first!"
"Is that so?"
The thirteen-year-old king memorized the story and proudly brought it up at the next lecture.
"From ancient times to the present, East to West, there are unchanging truths. Even the histories of those distant Western barbarians warrant our caution and vigilance."
"...Where on earth did Your Majesty hear such a tale?"
"Arthur, young as he is, has profound knowledge and shared the Western histories he'd studied."
"Your Majesty!!"
The lecture officials frothed at the mouth: We're swamped with Korean and Chinese history—why heed barbarian tales? The kid might've made it up or learned wrong. What lesson are you drawing from that?! They ranted on.
It hit the deep-seated "annoyance" button in Heonjong's heart squarely.
"With Western ships multiplying daily and India falling overnight! You lot ignore their histories for lessons and grasp at straws instead!"
Nothing major.
The young king just wanted to strut a bit with a tale these old fogeys didn't know.
But they tore into him like he'd committed some grave error. It twisted his guts.
"Have the envoy this year bring back books on Western histories if available."
"Excellent. Ministers, redouble your scholarly pursuits."
Meanwhile, professional courtiers Kim Ja-geun and Kim Byeong-gi were plotting anew.
"Coffee and chocolate, eh."
"Arthur says any English or European gentleman can easily obtain them."
"So it's really... that good for men?"
"He's too young to grasp the rites of propriety between sexes, but from his description, it must be so. Plus, it banishes sleep to aid study—"
"Importing it would surely cause a sensation."
In Joseon, doing business meant having noble backing, obviously.
Especially foreign trade—smuggling, really—required enormous patrons.
In other words...
The Andong Kim clan were the true kingpins shielding the smugglers.
Of course, tell Kim Ja-geun that, and he'd be baffled. Strictly speaking, the "credit" they got wasn't payoff for protection—it was insurance for not having their heads mounted and limbs torn apart.
"Shall we test-import some?"
"They say Beijing has everything. We can probably snag those too."
If the king showed interest in the West, securing Western goods first would score points, right?
Not even for flattery—Kim Ja-geun, son of Joseon web-novelist Kim Jo-sun (author of that work), had a hobby of picking up tidbits on newfangled things. He'd kept quiet to avoid the "historian wannabe" label, but if the king provided cover... it wasn't half bad.
Thus, the Qing envoy delegation got extra side quests: secure Western books, scout coffee/chocolate/etc., repatriate the English castaway Arthur Leigh—and more, far beyond the usual.
However, Arthur Leigh did not pass through Qing to return to Britain.
"His Majesty has accepted Viceroy Lin Zexu's memorial and decided to sever all ties with the English smugglers of opium."
The First Opium War was upon them.