Chapter 30
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 030
Chapter Title: Invasion of Joseon (1)
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Politics is like a living creature. No, it's far more changeable than that. It's Zerg-level, or some kind of liquid monster.
Kim Ja-geun and the Andong Kim Clan had undoubtedly held the advantage.
They had forged a solid connection through Yi A-seul and built a personal bond with him. Over several years of mingling, they'd picked up fragmented but substantial knowledge about the West.
But in the blink of an eye, it all fell apart.
"Should we join hands with the Andong Kim Clan to block the expansion of the king's power, or side with the king to take down the Andong Kim Clan?"
The Pungyang Jo Clan had knelt to gain momentum.
If the other folks in Joseon heard this, they'd all spit curses like, "Fuck you guys, you're powerful ministers too." But hey, second place is always the most frustrating spot, right? They couldn't just sit idle watching Kim Ja-geun bunker down in the front yard again.
The decision came swiftly.
"For the sake of the people, we absolutely cannot have war."
"The foreigners' weaponry is overwhelmingly powerful; our arms can't easily stand against it. Even if we win, all we'd gain is ruins and corpses, just like in the Imjin Year."
"If we make peace with them, endure the unendurable, and acquire their weapons... would the grand dream of the northern expedition truly be in vain?"
This was how the Pungyang Jo Clan—once the ones chopping off heads of Western learning enthusiasts—suddenly flipped their stance to become radical reformers advocating for opening the ports and the northern expedition.
With things turning out like this, Kim Ja-geun racked his brains at full throttle.
"What the hell are those bastards up to all of a sudden?"
"Obviously, the king's intentions must be involved, right?"
Heonjong remained silent. The palace was crawling with eyes and ears of the Andong Kim Clan everywhere.
But was Heonjong really staying silent?
The king's birth mother, Lady Jo the Royal Dowager, was from the Pungyang Jo Clan, as her surname made plain. If the king subtly conveyed his will to his mother, and she in turn sent a secret message to her paternal family, it wasn't impossible for the Pungyang Jo Clan to be acting on the king's covert orders.
In this pitch-black darkness where he couldn't see an inch ahead, Kim Ja-geun had to make a judgment call.
"We must show them our unwavering resolve."
These weren't words from an emissary of the Japanese Empire's Imperial Army.
They came from Joseon's top powerbroker, Kim Ja-geun himself, right there in the royal audience chamber.
The young king, Heonjong, merely blinked a few times.
"Are you saying we should side with the Qing and leap into war?"
"No. We must report our dire situation to Beijing and prepare every defense to break their will to invade."
"You want me to go to England?"
Go there and hole up forever in some foreign land that takes years to reach by sea? Who'd even perform the ancestral rites if I died there?
Fuck that.
He couldn't very well say outright, "I don't want to step down, I don't want to be exiled, I just want to keep pulling the strings behind the throne."
In the end, Kim Ja-geun's mouth spewed the same old "expel the barbarians" mantra on repeat, like some app stuck on a loop track blasting it at full volume.
But that's the scary thing about orthodox rhetoric.
Even when the sleazy intent was plain as day—"I don't want to die alone, so let's all go down together"—no one could refute it.
To counter it, you'd have to go full throttle: "The Qing are doomed, England's era is dawning. Let's hurry and send envoys to England to submit!" But Kim Ja-geun didn't have the savage heart to bet his life and his clan's future on England coin.
In the end, Kim Ja-geun, who had steadfastly championed that powerful orthodox line, pushed his opinion through.
The response, drafted in the name of Joseon's Ministry of Rites, went something like this:
[1. Joseon is a vassal state serving the Qing; we conduct no intercourse with other nations without Qing permission.
2. War is a terrible thing. If both nations wish to avoid fighting, we are willing to mediate peace.
3. Even if you seek to subjugate us by force, we will never yield.]
A flat-out rejection of every demand.
Arthur received the reply and departed immediately.
The moment Arthur's steamship set sail,
Joseon shifted into wartime footing.
"Gather loyalist troops from all eight provinces! Open the clan storehouses, muster the soldiers, mobilize every cannon and warship!"
Kim Ja-geun clung tight to military command and refused to let go. The king? Pfft, he was invisible now.
Just win.
Win, and everything gets solved.
For him, victory was now the only path to survival.
September 1851.
Back in Hong Kong, I headed straight for Lord Clarendon.
"They accepted none of our demands in the end. Was this truly the best outcome?"
"I believe it's the optimal result."
The earl quietly puffed on his pipe.
- Go on, speak your mind.
I pulled two letters from my pocket and presented them to him respectfully.
One was the original in Classical Chinese.
The other, my English translation.
He glanced briefly at the original—mere squiggly brushstrokes—then picked up the translation.
"[Kim Ja-geun, who has seized all power in the Joseon government, has resolved on war to preserve his own authority. Under the pretext of war, Kim has privatized military command and forcibly confined the king. The Joseon king's true will lies in opening the ports and reforms; war is by no means his desire.] Is all this true?"
"The Joseon government will never declare this letter its official stance."
"Naturally. It's written by a political rival of this Kim fellow."
"Something like that."
The author of this letter would be branded a traitorous nation-seller at any moment, risking being torn limb from limb. Neither Heonjong nor the Pungyang Jo Clan were foolish enough to write something that'd screw themselves over.
"This letter is a secret dispatch from Prince Yi Ha-eung of the royal family."
Just as the English blood carries a love for freedom, justice, and long-windedness, the Joseon blood has been etched into its red blood cells at the DNA level with duplicitous tactics since time immemorial. Joseon folks don't even need to read Romance of the Three Kingdoms to have the mindset of "It's okay to deceive barbarians." Silla, Goryeo, Joseon, even North Joseon—they've all done it.
Kim Ja-geun, unwilling to board a one-way passenger ship to London and relinquish power, threw himself into "expel the barbarians." So for duplicitous tactics to work, someone had to take the opposite stance—an ardent pro-British reformer.
Prince Heungseon zeroed in on exactly that.
Risk versus reward.
The writer of this letter would go down in history as the first Joseon figure to fire up an England-coin mining rig. If Britain lost, it'd be limbs torn off and turned into salted fish. But if Britain won, he'd have Britain itself as his backer.
Yi Ha-eung gladly took out high-interest loans to bet everything on this high-risk, high-reward gamble.
Risk? A savage heart doesn't give a damn about that.
Because death ends it all.
"My life as a royal clansman is either rotting away confined at home or getting dragged into some rebellion plot despite just breathing. What's there to lose by wagering my neck?"
What a mad bastard.
With Heonjong having a son now, dreams like installing his own kid on the throne were off the table.
Whether from overflowing youthful vigor or sheer desperation at life's dead ends, Yi Ha-eung floored the accelerator way harder than in the original history. In normal circumstances, he was fated for neither power nor fame anyway, so he went all-in on the savage bet.
"Most of Joseon's noble houses, aristocracy, and officials are neutral bystanders. If we showcase the might of the British Empire, they'll gladly topple the Kim regime and turn to us."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes. Joseon has rapidly decayed over the decades of Kim clan rule. He has no support from the masses or the king."
The earl nodded.
"No reason to hesitate, then. I'll discuss with the military, but considering what I heard before, we can deploy about 5,000 toward Joseon."
"I'll make preparations."
"It can't drag on too long. How much time do you need?"
"It'll be settled within three months."
September.
In other words, autumn.
No need for Redcoats to march in and burn Hanyang themselves.
"Seize this island, Ganghwa, and blockade the Han River leading to Joseon's capital, Hanyang."
"And if they don't submit?"
"Then our warships will have no choice but to steam up the Han River."
"Send warships into an unfamiliar river?"
"I've already secured guides."
West Sea, Ganghwa Strait, Han River.
A hellish natural environment that had stymied even mighty Western powers.
But I had precious friendships with free spirits like Wang-pal, who navigated the Han like their own backyard. More than enough to overcome it.
"Swiftly conclude military operations toward Joseon and establish friendly relations with them."
"Understood."
I bowed and turned to leave his office.
"Ah, almost forgot. A guest you might be glad to see has arrived. Time's short, but go meet him."
What?
I don't have friends.
Hong Kong buzzed with activity.
"Move it, faster!"
"Battalion, attention!"
The black arm of the British Empire, stretching across the world's five oceans and six continents, began to stir.
First off, the East India Company army—those famed Sepoys numbering in the hundreds of thousands—crossed the sea toward China.
Many Indians shunned sea voyages due to their unique customs, but where there's massive compensation promised by the British Empire and the Company, greed turns heads everywhere.
The Sepoys who volunteered for overseas deployment were mostly assigned to special "volunteer" units, becoming the main force fighting under the Union Jack abroad.
The land of opportunity, India.
Not just for the native Sepoys, but a treasure trove for Britons too.
In other European nations, those of modest birth but confident in their skills and luck often turned to the military. What surer path to rags-to-riches than battlefield glory?
But this extraordinary empire, Great Britain, was always different.
In the British Army, officer commissions were bought with money.
It wasn't just entry. From buying your ensigncy to every promotion, you shelled out cash.
For instance, when a battalion commander colonel retires home, the seniority-top major usually gets first dibs on that juicy colonelcy—for a price. That's the retiring colonel's pension.
The major who shells out becomes colonel, then sells his majorcy to some captain, padding his wallet. The now-vacant captaincy goes to a lieutenant... and so on.
Surprisingly, many Britons saw this miraculous purchase system as a win-win: upholding organizational dignity while running the army on the cheap.
"How do you verify command, courage, military talent? No reliable way, right?"
"Buy it, and at least you prove wealth. A young man with means means family backing."
"Put talent-alone kids in officer seats? Pfft, idiots? Listen up. That's why continental armies erupt in embezzlement scandals, bribe-taking, and looting every other day. Only rich heirs don't pilfer or plunder as much."
"And? This army beat Napoleon. Got complaints?"
That's why, unlike youths from other lands knocking on military academy doors with just their fists, most young Britons heading to Sandhurst came from families that could foot the bill.
But the East India Company army was different.
No overflow of posh kids eager to roll in Indian jungles with native troops, and the commission-buying was less cutthroat.
Arthur Leigh's brother, Daniel Leigh, was a case in point: graduated from the Company school training officers for their army and threw himself into the fray.
Sudden parental deaths.
Ambition to rebuild the fallen house himself.
Henry Leigh's connections, his father, still somewhat intact if fading.
Everything lined up perfectly.
Except one unforeseeable thing.
"Artie!"
"Heavens! Bro! How'd you end up here?!"
"Overseas deployment, obviously! Don't worry! I'll smash those Tartars or Chosunites flat!"
His little brother had outclimbed him too fast.
If it was gonna be like this,
why slog through shit in India for seniority...