Chapter 69
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 069
Chapter Title: Invisible Threat (5)
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Office of Urgent State and Military Affairs.
The place where all of Joseon's governance took place.
Prime Minister Park Gyu-su stared blankly at the dip pen gripped in his hand.
A true scholar ought to write with brush and ink from the Four Treasures of the Study. Until recently, it had been such common sense that one might scoff, "What else would you write with?"
But the world had changed.
Historically, Joseon had made paper from mulberry bark and the like.
While it was sturdy and high-quality, its poor cost-effectiveness and difficulty in mass production had caused chronic paper shortages throughout the Joseon dynasty.
But then a new technology arrived from abroad.
A method to produce low-grade paper from worn-out clothes, rags, ropes, nets, and the like.
In the old Joseon, this technique would never have been used.
After all, until recently, even fabric too poor to make a pocket had circulated as small change like isu cloth or samsu cloth. No matter how ragged and worn the fabric, it was money—who would turn it into paper?
Yet the world had changed.
With the opening of ports, foreign cotton fabrics flooded in like a torrent.
At the same time, currency reform proceeded as if anticipated, naturally stripping cloth of its monetary value. Rags stripped of worth as currency became paper.
Who would write on such cheap, brush-unfriendly paper? But when the postal service was established, the masses began scribbling endless letters in hangul as if they'd been waiting for this day.
Western inks and pens suitable for such paper flew off the shelves. Even middlemen appeared, renting out writing tools to those who only wrote letters once in a blue moon.
On top of that, enormous quantities of paper poured in from the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, Japan, and the West. Paper was never in surplus, making it a foolproof business.
The changes didn't stop there.
As paper became abundant, books exploded in number. Anyone passionate about letters and learning could buy them easily by skimping on meals or skipping tobacco and alcohol.
When newspapers arrived via Hong Kong and Shanghai, even yangban families with only cash to their name began founding papers.
The mastermind behind all these changes was one person.
A castaway washed up on Joseon's shores a decade ago.
It couldn't be coincidence.
Everything had prepared itself too smoothly, like flowing water, and the chaos that should have accompanied enlightenment had been quelled too quietly.
How far back had that young man calculated?
And what would he change next?
What would become of Joseon at the end of those changes?
Park Gyu-su suddenly felt afraid.
The ancestral shrines and the nation's future swayed at the whims of a mere youth in his thirties.
Which was why, absolutely.
Absolutely.
"So you're saying they want you to sell them the country?"
"Something like that..."
"Kuhahaha! Come here! Sit on the throne yourself!"
It wasn't that he lacked the confidence to join that absurd conversation and was just staring at his dip pen, lost in thought.
Park Gyu-su, on the verge of mental collapse from his brooding, turned to Yi Ha-eung, who sat there with unnerving serenity.
Right. That man was also the teacher of Arthur, so he must have some plan.
Pouring his hopes into a long, piercing gaze and sending a silent transmission, Yi Ha-eung finally seemed to catch on, flashing a gentle smile as he spoke.
"Your Majesty, Heavenly Sovereign of Joseon. Since both Qing and Britain hope for the House of Yi in London to hold the royal seat, take the throne now."
You mad bastard!
As he suppressed the wicked urge to jab the pen into Yi Ha-eung's skull, Park Gyu-su's mouth—escaped from brain control—blurted out something utterly off-topic.
"If both Qing and Britain want to carve up this nation of Joseon, how can it endure? Lord Arthur could have it all just by closing his eyes—why not?"
When Arthur turned to look at him, sanity finally returned.
Too direct.
"Why don't you just take over the country?" Politics aside, no scholar should say that. Shame burned; he wanted to crawl into a rat hole.
But Arthur didn't mock the ridiculous question. Instead, he grinned.
"Even if I became Governor-General of Joseon or Duke of Joseon or whatever, winning the people's hearts is impossible. Throughout history, such figures can only protect their power with violence, and their ends are invariably miserable."
"..."
"Besides, wouldn't there be at least one assassin like Jing Ke in this country?"
"Of course. Better to be friends than tremble in fear of assassination my whole life! I'll give you all the money you want—just don't eye the throne!"
"Your Majesty, mind your words..."
After a burst of laughter, the seated officials resumed their serious discussion.
"Britain burned Beijing not long ago—why the sudden caution?"
"Because there's less profit than expected. Waging war in the Far East on the opposite side of the homeland is harder to profit from than thought. With the Russian war looming, Britain won't want major armed clashes here for a while."
Britain no longer sought reckless expansion.
Russia wasn't some street thug; fighting such a vast empire required a breather first.
"Qing spoke of ten years from now—so why not issue a blank check and renegotiate later?"
"That would jeopardize preserving those interests."
"Just crush them by force—"
"It's all money. Money."
As they pondered deeply, Finance Minister Kim Heung-geun spoke up.
"We must improve relations with Qing."
"Is that sane?"
"But the biggest fiscal boon here is red ginseng, hands down. We can't keep blindfolding ourselves with Geumseong Merchant Guild forever. With trade to Qing blocked, even paying interest on foreign loans is tight!"
Perhaps because he handled money, Kim Heung-geun offered the most pragmatic view.
No one in the room wanted war with Qing.
War.
A great war that imperiled the ancestral shrines.
It would come someday, but only after maximizing odds of victory. Starting now meant ruin, win or lose.
Park Gyu-su inwardly thanked the realist and replied.
"Finance Minister, we all know that's difficult. Why not propose something feasible?"
"Let's sell opium too."
Ah.
Fuck.
Of course the Andong Kim Clan couldn't be sane.
"Opium's legal in China now—they can't crack down. The state cultivates it en masse and sells cheap. It wrecks Qing while sucking their silver dry—truly feeding our army with the enemy's rations—"
"Enough."
"With the shrines at stake, how can we cling to the righteous path? Sometimes the expedient is necessary!"
"Opium won't make much money. Now that it's legal, won't every Chinese flip their fields to poppy?"
"Hmm... You're right..."
Not because opium was evil, but because it wouldn't profit! How low had Joseon's Neo-Confucianism sunk into the mud?!
After much murmuring, they devised one stratagem and decided to send an envoy to Qing.
"I'll go."
"You?"
"Koreans might not work, but I have British citizenship."
No one could argue with Arthur's words.
Afterward, Arthur headed straight back to the British consulate.
One way or another.
This country needed him.
British Consul Alcock couldn't hide his brief bewilderment at Arthur's return.
"You're going to Qing?"
"Yes. And I still wish to serve Britain's interests. This will benefit Britain too."
"Elaborate?"
Arthur was concise.
"Qing cannot be trusted."
"Inferior nations are always like that, but—"
"Not that. With all power in Prince Gong's hands, Qing can turn promises to trash anytime."
Concessions?
Just for political prestige in Joseon?
How to believe that.
"Unchecked power always runs rampant. We must foster an opposing faction to Prince Gong and make them play opposition."
"Cooperation between government and opposition..."
"Simply put: show we, the British Empire, can switch to another Qing powerbroker if needed. Only then will Prince Gong honor promises. We can't let Qing balance Britain against other powers; we must hold the position of weighing options and choosing him."
Even to Alcock, it rang true. Chinese always stabbed backs when least expected.
"What's the gain for you and Joseon? Even Prince Gong's rivals would be hostile to Joseon, no?"
"Exactly."
Joseon's defection posed a grave threat to Qing's survival.
No sane Qing figure would spout pro-Joseon nonsense.
"But if their political stances differ, we might buy some time between them."
"Hmmm..."
"Ten years. A generation in Korean terms. Britain's politics and diplomacy shift multiple times; no one knows what Qing will look like."
Plenty to extract in the interim.
"Who do you have in mind for opposition?"
Alcock showed tentative approval.
Not out of pity for Joseon, but refusal to cede diplomatic initiative to Qing rabble.
If Arthur schemed for Britain's gain, no reason to stop him.
"The conservatives."
"Weren't they purged?"
"The continent is vast, conservatives scattered everywhere. Prince Gong cries reform and enlightenment, but traditionalists hostile to foreigners abound. A tiny spark, and they can't seize power but can oppose effectively."
Still, they'd lack strength.
"Who's your figurehead?"
"Prince Gong's brother, Prince Chun. In an absolute monarchy, the emperor's brother always fears for his life. To live long and healthy, he'll need his own faction."
"Need more help?"
"Just a bridge."
"I'll send a telegram."
Arthur bowed in thanks, but inwardly pondered elsewhere.
'Prince Chun can never beat Prince Gong.'
If he had that caliber, he'd have entered the succession race under Daoguang. Youth was no excuse.
Political skill to rival Prince Gong.
Acumen to rally conservatives against enlightenment.
And idiocy to tank Qing's fortunes spectacularly.
Fortunately, Qing had history's verified top talent.
One of Emperor Xianfeng's consorts: Consort Yi.
Just an overlooked concubine now, but she would destroy Prince Gong and claim the empire as final victor.
Yes.
Buy up Cixi coin before listing!
A little help.
Just a slight push.
And that heroine would climb to power's pinnacle, even if it turned the nation to hell.