Chapter 49
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 049
Chapter Title: You Reap What You Sow (4)
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The wild lands of Joseon.
Its only industry was agriculture, industry had essentially collapsed, and commerce was utterly pre-modern.
Opportunities lay everywhere, thick as weeds.
The Leigh & Gladstone Company men trickling in one by one, along with the newcomers, calculated like seasoned Anglo-Saxons just how to rake in the cash.
"Let's lay down railroads first."
"Already?"
"Railroads always make money. We have to start with them."
A massive trunk line from Uiju to Busan.
Follow that line, and Uiju, Pyongyang, Kaesong, Hanyang, Daegu, and Busan all connect as one. The nation of Joseon itself would fundamentally transform.
Just lay rails on that line?
No, that'd be half-assed. Obviously pave roads too, and string telegraph cables alongside them.
"We need port construction yesterday."
"This western sea of Joseon is insane. A place like this exists?!"
"The Joseon houses are a nightmare. We need to prepare proper homes for us Europeans. Start with brick factories—"
In a growth spurt, construction always reigns supreme.
Build houses, warehouses, ports, roads, telegraphs, consulates, churches—and soon the electric age hits, so power plants and poles everywhere. Endless work.
This was just for Western investors, though.
If the Joseonites got into full-scale building, it'd never end.
Factories to keep erecting ahead.
Hydraulic facilities like more efficient ponds and reservoirs using Western concrete or cement.
Nah, forget that. Imagine Joseonites ditching thatch roofs for proper brick or cement homes. One chaebol conglomerate per group, easy money. Construction, construction is the future!
—Calm the hell down.
Whew... That's why every chaebol back in '88 had a construction arm. Money multiplies, I tell you?
"Joseon has decent limestone mines, from what I hear. And coal—probably some quality stuff coming out."
"I'll see to it."
"What about gold or silver mines?"
"Just surveying and grafting modern tech onto existing ones should yield meaningful production boosts."
In early development, run mining right, and even a beggar nation like Joseon could roof itself in shiny new rafters with cash to spare.
One snag, though: forestry was basically obliterated.
As everyone knows, Joseon was deep in a Malthusian trap.
Joseon's winters shattered British common sense, so yangban or mongrel, nobody wanted to freeze— they'd stoke those ondol floors with every scrap of firewood. No wonder the forests of the eight provinces were toast. Reforestation it is.
Rough list of viable Joseon ventures: done.
Now, time to meet the king.
The most straightforward way to flaunt status and power in Joseon was riding a palanquin.
These palanquins came in endless varieties by rank—even setting aside the exclusive royal ones, there were editions for senior first-rank officials, exclusive second-rank, shared second- and third-rank, and so on, adding spice to bureaucracy.
But to a twenty-first-century mind prizing practicality, they sucked: zero ride comfort, utterly unbearable.
Mount a horse, then?
Horses lacked swagger. A scholar on horseback? Tacky. Donkeys were the swag choice for true scholars. Messy.
By the time I vowed to sell cars in Joseon no matter what, Heungseon-gun's gaze—traveling to the palace with me—locked onto one spot.
The empty ruins smack in central Hanyang.
Once Gyeongbokgung Palace stood there.
"Asura."
"Yes, Teacher."
"Cut that out already..."
"Yes!! Teacher!!"
"You little shit."
Yi Ha-eung's eyes gleamed as he stared at the Gyeongbokgung site. Don't do it! Hey, that's hell ahead!
"Your Highness swept away the corrupt ministers and traitors like trash in one broomstroke, so now rebuild Gyeongbokgung to restore the dignity of the ancestral shrine—"
"No."
"What do you take royal authority for?!"
"Aren't we in this mess figuring out how to make money because the nation's broke? And you're already plotting spends?"
"Tsk."
"Why not erect a Western-style palace instead? Dignity piercing the heavens."
"Pass. Ugh. No wonder they say growing black hair's a waste..."
Doesn't know Western palace beauty. Next time, order an art book from Hong Kong.
After averting Joseon's instant bad-end rush, we entered the palace and sat in one hall awaiting the king.
But the vibe felt off.
Not like wartime, but compared to the palace from my kid days, something was... different.
"Teacher."
"......"
"Lord Heungseon."
"What is it?"
That rascal geezer. Acting full grandpa already.
"The atmosphere's changed."
"All the eunuchs got the boot."
"Ah."
The source of the unease.
Fewer people.
The palace always buzzed with crowds—palace women, eunuchs, the overall numbers had quietly thinned, leaving it hollow.
"'Booted' meaning...?"
"Obvious, right? Men devoting their lives to serving the sovereign were slinging for other powerhouses instead. Keeping their heads is gratitude enough."
The purge's blade hadn't spared bureaucrats alone, it seemed.
Made sense. Thinking back, young Heonjong had always eyed his hovering eunuchs warily. Imagining every word reported to the wrong ears, probably.
"His Majesty arrives!"
"He's here. No need to stand."
We rose swiftly to pay respects to Heonjong.
Before, as a British diplomat, no bows—but now, as merchant Arthur Leigh granted massive concessions by the Joseon king, bow if told, flip if commanded.
"Sit, all."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Welcome back to Joseon. Travel fatigue gone? How's the wife?"
"Thanks to Your Highness's care, my wife and I are both quite well. My gratitude."
Soon, tea and sweets arrived.
Bit into the sugary han-gwa...
Taste was off. Slightly worse than before.
—You're used to British food now, huh?
Should taste better then, idiot.
"You probably saw on the way: sent off quite a few. Forgive if it's not to taste."
"How could such a delicacy not suit? Pure bliss."
"You can't hide your face when eating good stuff. Lights up like crazy when it's truly tasty."
Damn. Too close makes it tough. I'm supposed to read him, but he's reading me.
"Your Highness dismissed cherished chefs and eunuchs with righteous fury—how dare I nitpick mere sweets?"
"You weren't like this before; now you sound like some official. Heungseon, did you drill speech manners before he came?"
"Heaven forfend, Your Highness."
Perfect duo, teasing me.
"Don't take our ribbing to heart. Expectations for you are sky-high."
No worries. For my glory and riches, I'll slave like a dog—
"So, when can we see a son?"
"...Pardon?"
Oh. Slip.
What a gaffe before the king.
But Heonjong just grinned wider, no rebuke, stabbing away.
"A son, son. Married with a wife? Time for a strapping boy! Travel lag got you... not rising?"
"It rises fine! Like Mireuksa Temple's stone pagoda, straight and true!"
"That's been rubble for ages."
"Not implying it doesn't rise, are you?"
What? How many Ls today?
"Anyone outside?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Grant Asura ginseng and tonics for vigor. Notify the royal pharmacy for a dose."
Head spinning. Even British docs didn't toy like this.
Anyway, aphrodisiacs bestowed—graciously accept. Need firstborn quick to preach Big Ben's might.
"Suppose..."
"Speak."
"If not your issue, how about a concubine?"
"Concubinage harms the realm; it must go. Me taking one looks bad to all."
"Pity. Could've found a wife here."
"Ha. Haha. Hahaha..."
After my roast session, Heungseon-gun eagerly briefed as if his own ideas, relaying what I'd told him.
Obviously no parliamentary horrors—just land reform core.
"Nation'll churn again, but now's prime to uproot noble ills, free the folk from misery."
"Buy their land? All land's the king's; just reclaim."
No! Do that, capitalism's seed gets nuked!
"Traitors' assets, fine—but can't seize yangban land too. Point isn't confiscation; it's pushing them into commerce and industry to enrich Joseon. Give 'em startup capital."
Phew. Crash course paid off.
Heungseon-gun pitched reform not for commerce boom itself, but quintessentially Joseon: "Big farms squeezing tenants barely profit"—reality check. Anyway, industry push? Right track.
But I'd underestimated Yi Ha-eung.
"Can't stop at reclaiming yangban land. Seowon nationwide are gangster speculation dens—raze them all, save a true few righteous ones."
"Touch seowon, scholars riot."
"Reform demands bone-deep pain. Royals join, they've no retort."
"Royal lands too?"
"...Exceptions blur purpose. All must go."
"All."
Heonjong's face flipped.
Yi Ha-eung unflinching before the furious king.
"You mean abolish Naesusa?"
"Yes. Naesusa and palace weaving evade reform no more."
Crazy bastard.
You madman! Didn't even mention this to me!! Folks! Look here! Heungseon-gun evolved into commie!! Seizing private property!!
Heonjong twitched faintly, clearly warring urges to plate his face or soccer-kick. Shit. What is this? I just came to say hi. Never palace with this lunatic again.
"Asura."
"Yes? Y-Yes, Your Highness. Speak."
"Buy land, fund industry therewith—that the reform's thrust?"
"Yes."
"New ventures worth starting, in your eyes?"
Now, uh. Well.
His Majesty starting a company in his name?
—Naesusa was that from the jump.
True. But joint-stock Naesusa? Wild curve.
Can't keep king waiting. Answer in 0.3 seconds flat.
"Contemplating: Westerners build homes in brick, so a brick factory guarantees century-long prosperity."
"True enough. But Naesusa under royal name doing bricks? Meh. Alternatives?"
Ah.
Feels like chatting with the boss.
Core biz is revenue, sure—but sometimes swag trumps sales: lookin' good matters.
What yields prestige and profit? Title-worthy, monopoly state enterprise kinda—
State enterprise.
Yes.
"In my England, the Royal Post Office."
"Post office?"
Mail makes bank.
Guaranteed.