Chapter 48
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 048
Chapter Title: You Reap What You Sow (3)
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Kim Ja-geun House.
Once, this place had felt more like a palace than an actual palace, more like the royal court than the royal court itself.
But even Kim Ja-geun, who had toyed with the fate of the realm, ended up with his skull smashed in, and his household scattered to the winds. The fact that his limbs weren't torn apart and pickled into salted fish was probably the best luck he could hope for.
"Whoa. No beds here?"
"Joseon folks don't use beds."
"But they did in Hong Kong?"
"Chinese people use them."
"They're right next door, and the cultures are that different?"
"Right? Like how Mexico and America are different?"
"Yeah. Even the southern hicks live in a different world from us. Different countries must be even more so."
By now, I had enough sense not to say, What are you talking about? The whole country's full of hicks.
- You've said it a few times already.
Every time, I'd get pinched in the side. Her hands really pack a punch. Guess that's what comes from growing up in the sticks—way more feisty.
Elizabeth was thrilled at this completely alien Joseon house, darting around everywhere taking it all in, while I gave her an impromptu briefing on the layout: sarangchae for guests, anchae for the women, haengnangchae for the servants, and so on.
That was when it happened.
"If you measure from here—oh, this pillar."
"This one?"
"See the diagonal marks?"
She bent down a bit, running her fingers over the faint notches carved into the wooden pillar.
"When I was little, they marked my height here."
"Whoa! We have those at home too. Universal thing, huh? Who did it for you?"
"...Someone who's gone now."
Kim Ja-geun.
You idiot.
Looking at these marks, the memory of his face turning beet red as he hurled every personal insult he could think of at me starts to fade.
Instead, I recall the middle-aged guy who pretended not to care about some foreign kid's stories from the West but was clearly listening intently.
The guy who bragged shamelessly that the young scholar he'd taken in was a master of Neo-Confucianism because he himself was so learned.
The richest man in the country, yet he'd get the most excited over schemes to earn a few more coins.
If he was such a petty small-timer, he should've just prioritized his own survival. What was so great about power that he chased it so greedily?
There were so many ways to stay alive.
Why charge straight down the one path that led to death?
I don't get it.
What a moron.
If he'd just kept his head down and come to London with me, I would've treated him to delicious cucumber sandwiches and eel jelly, given him the full tourist guide from Westminster to the Thames sewage.
- If he'd known that future, he definitely would've killed himself. Or maybe this Kim Ja-geun from that timeline sent a message back to his past self: Don't live like a coward—die already!
Typical beast of a jar ghost, ruining the mood. Tch.
I need to be careful not to end up like that.
That's the thought I'll stick with.
Memorial for the original owner of this vast Kim Ja-geun House ends here.
A dead Kim Ja-geun has proven far more helpful to me, to King Heonjong, and to this country than the living one ever was.
Now it's time to work on turning Joseon into a civilized nation that can stand proud anywhere in the world.
"Lizzy?"
"Look at this. Seems like a flower bed, but it's all trampled. Gotta redo it from scratch. Should've brought some flower seeds."
"Any thoughts on stuff you wanna change now that you're in Joseon?"
"Tons. Starting with rebuilding this house."
A Western-style house, huh. That's important too.
With Joseon opening its ports, demand for Western-style homes and buildings will explode. Just building a brick factory would rake in the cash.
But these small-scale ventures are best left to reliable, conscientious private companies—like the stellar Leigh & Gladstone Company. No need for the Joseon government to get involved.
In expert terms...
This is Joseon's best option!
- You're gonna burst from greed, you punk.
If this poor country tried to nationalize everything, wouldn't that be the real greed?
Joseon people's obsession with state-run and public institutions is insane. They think the country will collapse if the state or court doesn't control everything. First lesson: teach them the virtues of privatization and let them feel the power of the invisible hand. Only then will national policies start making sense.
Next up: reforms to innovatively advance Joseon.
Ones that cost little money and effort.
The world's most advanced nation, the British Empire, has tons of experience in this, and I'm fully prepared to share it with Joseon.
- What the hell are you planning?
First, secure funding.
To drag this country—where there's no real industry, just farming—into modern society, we need money circulating.
- Hmm...
The best option is obvious.
Sell high-value goods to grow the national pie itself...
- That?
Yeah. That.
- Figures. No way an idea from an Anglo-Saxon thick skull is gonna be wholesome. My bad for getting my hopes up even briefly!
Yeah, that one's a bit much, right?
- Unless you wanna turn the whole country into an opium den, let's scrap it...
Aw, I wasn't serious. Just messing with you because the jar ghost's reaction is always so spot-on.
Opium won't cut it anyway—good for the body, feels great, high value—but even Indian opium can't compete on price with Chinese stuff. Turn all eight provinces of Joseon into poppy fields, and you'd still lose.
Selling expensive goods for a trade surplus? That's one-dimensional mercantilism, and it crumbles before the mainland's scale.
So...
Borrow and repay.
In this era, letters are pretty much the only reliable way to communicate. Telegrams cost by the character, so you have to cram in only the bare essentials.
Conclusion:
The Joseon folks who came to London left me at least dozens of letters each. No wonder the mail ships make bank just shuttling them back and forth.
"Good to hear everyone's staying healthy."
The letters from the Ganghwa Brothers to the king were just basic greetings. They barely know His Majesty anyway, so naturally they're filled with praise for his royal grace... What else do you write to a king?
But the memorials from officials like Jo Byeong-hyeon—Joseon's first overseas envoy—and his crew went on forever.
Joseon Catholics who'd been to Europe before them.
Europe's views on Joseon and the Far East.
Awe and shock at Europe's dazzling progress.
And policy recommendations ready for immediate adoption.
"What suggestions did they make?"
"All sorts of things."
My house, busy with repairs and rebuilds everywhere.
I figured no visitors for a while, but I underestimated Heungseon Prince Yi Ha-eung.
For a moment, I debated telling him to buzz off since I was tired, but the guy he brought along was too big a deal.
Prime Minister Park Gyu-su.
When the Head of the State Council shows up personally, what can you do? Open the door.
After greetings, I served London-sourced coffee and Hong Kong desserts. They didn't say it, but they looked thrilled. Gotta open a Western bakery or cafe. Note to self.
"Lord Arthur."
"Lord? I couldn't possibly."
"A man of your stature deserves it. With Joseon's future hanging by a thread, we're seeking advice from a leader like you to guide our nation forward. Speak freely."
"How did the British Empire become so mighty? What laws and systems drove that power?"
Hmm.
Both of them are brimming with anticipation.
Let's start by blowing their minds.
"The British Empire's secret is Parliament."
"What's that?"
"All imperial subjects with sufficient learning and wealth have the right to vote. Through elections, they choose representatives for their districts. Parliament convenes to debate national affairs and propose new laws."
"......"
"......"
Freeze.
Coffee and dessert vanish into their mouths.
Not because they're hungry—buying time to think.
"Even commoners can take the exams and enter office here."
"Separate from offices. Laws need majority approval, so most MPs belong to parties. Parties spread their platforms to voters and rally support—"
"How's that different from factions?"
"It listens to all subjects, not just yangban, channeling national power swiftly into urgent matters. Best of all, issues that might spark violent clashes or even rebellion elsewhere get resolved by elections changing the ruling party. Keeps the people content."
"...Hard to implement now."
Yeah. Saved the biggest shock for first.
"Something... else, then."
"The judiciary must be independent, guaranteeing fair rights to all subjects."
"Joseon does too—"
"No. The British government can't detain or seize property without due legal cause, ever.
In Joseon, unless you're a powerful yangban, no one works hard. Clerks, magistrates, the court—whoever—they all know some strong power will exploit them."
Silence.
This was Joseon's reality: even hearing it from a foreigner, they had no comeback.
"But in the Empire, even the lowliest who works diligently and saves can keep their wealth safe. That's why the masses grow rich, give their kids better lives, and everyone works hard to build a great power."
"What's that got to do with judicial independence?"
"You need faith that the state will right any wrongs."
"...That'll take time too."
Second rejection. Talk about a total washout.
"You've heard the two key systems behind Britain's prosperity, yet both are too hard? I'm the one flustered here. If you say 'difficult' even after seeing the answers, how can I help?"
"Didn't say no. Just needs time."
"Lord Arthur. You started with the hardest ones to introduce here, didn't you?"
Yi Ha-eung, as expected. Spots his pupil's tricks right away.
"Do both infringe on His Majesty's sacred authority?"
"...Tell him yourself. I don't wanna end up as fish paste."
Heungseon fish paste, huh.
Curious about Heungseon pollack roe, but one wrong word and that hot-tempered old man's snapping my neck. Pass for now.
"Today, Britain's agriculture wanes while commerce and industry boom, piercing the heavens with power. Wheat and barley are dirt cheap and plentiful, but factory goods are precious—better to buy foreign grain."
"Abandon farming and the country still runs?"
"Simple logic. If we buy enough rice from China and Japan to feed all Joseon, couldn't the people do more valuable work than farm?"
After two heavy hits, they didn't argue. Not the type to cling rigidly to 'agriculture as the foundation.'
"So for Joseon to prosper, the yangban with wealth and power must build factories and trade, not farm."
"Which requires court assurance it won't plunder those factories."
"Exactly."
"Easy to say, but selling land and building factories isn't simple. And if everyone dumps land, prices crash—what then?"
They kept up even after stripping away all the fluff in crash course. As a tutor, I couldn't be prouder.
"The state buys it all."
"What?"
"All land is the nation's anyway. Court acquires it wholesale, pays landowners to build factories."
"Money from heaven?"
"Distribute to tenant farmers, have them repay land value over time."
Land reform.
If anyone can do it, it's Heonjong, who smashed the nobles' rice bowls.
"...This could work."
"The people's dream is land to till..."
Plus, it aligns with Joseon's Confucian ideals.
Suggest parliament, and you're a blatant traitor. But redistribute land to farmers? That's the core of the sages' teachings.
"Doing this gains one more thing."
"What's that?"
"Banks."
Central bank.
Forget worthless sangpyeong tongbo—mint silver or gold coins for global trade, and proper banks enable leverage.
Minimum condition for borrow-and-repay met.
19th-century Brits insist budgets must balance. 21st-century Koreans see it differently.
Invest with debt—that's the way.