Chapter 52
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 052
Chapter Title: Modernity is Cold (2)
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1853.
Joseon Kingdom, Hanyang.
Lately, the people of Hanyang had been gripped by a bizarre sensation, as if each day had stretched to forty-eight hours or every year now boasted seven hundred and sixty days.
Pre-modern societies are all much the same.
Yesterday mirrors today, and tomorrow will be no different.
Without special occasions or unique events, every day blends into the next.
That's why even the slightest spectacle draws crowds, and execution days for criminals turn into full-blown festivals.
Life is so crushingly dull that everyone starves for a dopamine hit.
But these days, there was no room for boredom.
Foreign ships came and went, then boom—war erupted. The seemingly eternal Andong Kim Clan shattered like glass. Kim Ja-geun, who wielded more power than the king across the eight provinces of Joseon, got his skull smashed like a cheap pot. Officials once too lofty to even glance at had their limbs torn off, their severed heads dangling from poles.
And that was just the beginning.
Westerners with blue eyes and yellow hair started milling about. New buildings sprouted up overnight. Institutions transformed wholesale, and whenever things got quiet, fresh laws were proclaimed.
Something.
Something was happening.
A radical upheaval beyond their wildest imaginings.
A colossal shift that would forever alter their way of life, their thinking, their very view of the world—a change from which there was no turning back.
Hanyang's citizens, more attuned to shifts in power than any other Joseon folk, felt this transformation in their bones.
"The court has reformed its systems to establish post offices. From now on, anyone can send letters or small parcels across the eight provinces for a modest fee!"
"A new Hanyang Armory has been built! All skilled craftsmen seeking work, apply now!"
"Henceforth, all may walk the streets freely at night!"
"Public urination is now forbidden!"
"All excrement must be deposited in designated latrines! Waste is fertilizer or gunpowder—squandering it is disloyalty!"
"They've gone and put even pissing under the king's watch."
The Podocheong, once a pillar of Kim clan dominance, had been disbanded, replaced by the new Police Agency.
And one of the new agency's core duties? Smashing the skulls of street pissers with wooden clubs. Dumping urine by the roadside was tantamount to tossing away gunpowder—what greater treason could there be?
The post offices, too, had been the talk of the town since day one.
As if gossip-loving Joseon folks had ever lacked the urge to send letters—they just had no slaves willing to trek the long roads.
Joseon coined "Postal Corps" instead of "mailmen," not out of King Heonjong's love for militaristic flair, but because the job rivaled a soldier's.
Hauling letters and parcels to Haenam in Jeolla or Samsu Gap Mountain in Hamgyong—no matter the destination.
Of course, Joseon's wilds teemed with ferocious beasts, so the Postal Corps prized lone hunters who could star in a Hollywood blockbuster or ex-peddler veterans.
The post office brought the king many gains.
Absorbing the old relay stations and couriers, it became—like the Royal Secretariat—a personal, independent organ of the throne. In effect, this swelled the ranks of troops the king could command at will.
Moreover, its nature made it perfect for security work.
Under the postal banner lurked the Secret Correspondence Agency, tasked with counter-espionage against potential rebels and anti-government groups.
The king and his loyal retainers were certain.
A revolt would come.
How could it not, with the scholars squeezed so mercilessly?
Yet...
"Joseon's yangban brim with such loyalty?"
"This is it? Where's the massive southern uprising?"
"It... isn't happening."
It didn't.
They'd anticipated fireworks over the Han River, but got only a few firecrackers.
The Finance Ministry, salivating over confiscated rebel fortunes and dreaming of new toys, was left in tears.
Even Hanyang's lowly rabble knew the world was upending—how could the yangban, Joseon's intellectual elite, remain oblivious?
"Does Your Highness truly seek hegemony?"
"How can a realm with its pillars crumbling stand firm?"
"This land belonged not only to the Yi clan of Jeonju but to us yangban as well—why...!"
The king's policies needed no deep pondering.
Their aim was plain: crush and dismantle the yangban class.
"Purge the corrupt officials."
"Demolish all academies that suck the people's blood."
"The military tax system is introduced. All commoners must now serve or pay grain levies—no exceptions for yangban!"
"We'll conduct land surveys to root out all hidden fields."
"South and North factions alike will be appointed to office."
"Ban discrimination against illegitimate children; impose concubine taxes on secondary wives."
"Abolish palace estates—distribute the land to tenant farmers. The royal kin will receive stipends henceforth."
"Slavery is abolished! Slave children are now freeborn!"
It was terrifying.
Five hundred years of Joseon law were being uprooted wholesale.
The king feared no coup.
No treason.
"Where are the true scholars in this land? It's full of wretched curs."
"If Confucius and Mencius returned to life, would you call you lot fine scholars—or drag you behind chariots?"
No—seething hatred.
When had a Joseon king viewed yangban not as governing partners, but as objects of loathing? Save Yeonsangun, had such venom ever poisoned the throne?
"The sovereign's blinded by rage, and vile sycophants fan the flames instead of guiding him."
"Would you call a man a scholar who clings to life?"
"We must prepare at once."
He hid no intent to strip them bare.
Even vermin writhe when trod—how could men sit idle as all is lost?
It took scant time for lamentations over wine to harden into plots to topple the king.
Yet...
'How do we even stage a coup?'
Oddly, true obstacles loomed here.
Rebellion isn't child's play.
Aiming not for revolution but "coup" meant enthroning a worthy royal to replace the current one.
But candidates were dismal.
Heonjong and his nephew were the last of the three royal lines.
Exclude them, and no proper royal kin remained to claim the throne.
No wonder Cheoljong's accession pushed Joseon past its final pass.
He was Heonjong's seventh cousin, from a perpetually junior branch—yet elevated over lineage, as was the reinforcement Island Lord, effectively Heonjong's uncle. Kingship's legitimacy had devolved to frog-prince farce. Gojong, seventeen degrees removed from Cheoljong, was another story.
Still, in original history, Yi Won-beom and Yi Myeong-bok ascended because they were the best of a bad lot.
In this era—with the reinforcement Island Lord imbibing Eton polish in London and Heungseon wielding the purge blade—coup plotters suffered from the start.
Even settling on some obscure distant royal meant securing armed force was no small feat.
"The king says he'll free the slaves?"
"No! We're still slaves, but our kids won't be!"
"His Majesty looks after our children!"
Elite express riders in the Postal Corps galloped day and night on horseback. Mostly for official dispatches, but for premium fees, anyone could hitch private letters to their route.
Abolition of slavery and palace estates raced nationwide as top news. The Royal Secretariat parceling vast lands to the people left most peasants half-hypnotized.
"His Majesty divides the land—surely other yangban will too?"
"Heard the rebels' lands are all being redistributed."
"That bastard from the next village got his plot."
With commoners viewing Heonjong as the Jade Emperor incarnate, who'd budge at "The king's gone mad—let's oust him!"? They'd fear their own slaves denouncing them for a better life.
Even scraping together servants and slaves for revolt...
The real issue? The throne's might stemmed not from yangban support.
"Present... arms!"
"Loyal! ty!!"
New-model armies formed post-Five Armies disbandment.
Starting with Hanyang's 1st Guard Infantry Regiment, elite Guard Brigades replaced obsolete provincial forces in Busan, Pyongyang, Jeonju, Wonsan, and beyond.
The Joseon court now swam in cash. Vast rebel gold, silver, and lands—all liquid.
They poured much into arms and troops. By British standards, third-rate colonial rabble—but unseen juggernauts on Joseon soil.
"His Majesty vows northern conquest—we aides must support him."
"When Britain torched Beijing, the Qing emperor fled in terror. Britain avenged the Zongzheng Emperor and aids restoration—truly a lord worth serving?"
"The king's aggressive hegemony terrifies, yet must we not serve now, with the Central Plains so weak and Joseon ascendant as never before?"
Even defeating those fearsome state troops, the British—who crushed Kim Ja-geun with a flick—would return. Inevitable.
Qing's miserable defeat crushed the last spirits.
Reform resistance crumbled.
Diehard plotters fell to denunciations, swiftly arrested and executed.
"His Highness is right!"
"Enrich the state, strengthen the army—avenge the Imo Incident and conquer Liaodong!"
"Land to farmers, not yangban? Confucius himself affirmed it. If you whine about giving it up, quit playing scholar!"
Lowly county gentry and remnants, long empty-handed.
Dreamers of Joseon's radical reform.
They rallied to the king, transforming into zealots.
With top scholars Yi Hang-ro and Gi Jeong-jin serving by royal decree, Joseon's literati surrendered utterly. Heonjong now gripped Ming-level absolute power.
And over their heads...
Western learning rained like baptism.
"Greetings to His Majesty, King of Joseon. The French Second Empire desires friendship and amity with your realm—"
"The United States hopes for free trade to prosper both our nations!"
Heonjong's Joseon flung its doors ever wider.
Modernity awaited them.