Interview with a Reporter
As Emperor Lee Wonbum prepared for his interview with the press, public opinion had split sharply into two camps.
On pro-imperial newspapers and news sites, the comments were largely full of praise for the Grand Academician.
Ugh, this is exhausting. I should stop looking.
By contrast, on the internet communities dominated by a relatively younger crowd, opinion seemed split roughly down the middle.
Calling him a traitor and all that is a bit much, but he didn't exactly say anything completely wrong, did he?
Honestly, "spicy take" this, "spicy take" that—sounds nice, but since when do we just shrug off patricidal garbage as a "spicy take"?
The history going badly for the Korean Empire? Sure, that can happen.
But separately from that, completely assassinating everyone's character? That makes you wonder about the author's ideology a bit…
At this rate, is he gonna dump us with a republic ending?
Constitution of the Korean Empire
— All citizens shall enjoy freedom of scholarship and the arts. —
Hypothetically, if you ignore reader reactions entirely, you could write a story that blows up the Imperial House and still wouldn't be punished for it.
Even if the author genuinely wanted to massacre the Imperial Family, you don't get punished for thinking in this country. So stop freaking out already.
What I'd felt over the past few days was that the people of this Korean Empire held extraordinarily high support for the Imperial House.
They were basically the nation's idol.
Of course I knew that was part of a constitutional monarch's role, but I hadn't expected it to be this intense.
Don't tell me the reason the previous emperor went abroad so often was because of this.
With this much attention fixed on him, maybe he'd simply wanted to get out.
"Your Majesty. The reporter will be entering shortly."
Enough idle thoughts. This time, I was going to put this whole fire out properly.
Song Euna, a reporter for the Hansung Daily, swallowed dryly.
A one-on-one interview with the Emperor was a rare opportunity. Under normal circumstances, a far more senior journalist of much greater standing would have been the one to take it.
That an interview had been scheduled just as food poisoning swept through the company cafeteria—and that she, a young reporter who rarely ate there, had ended up getting the assignment—was pure luck from the heavens.
This is my chance. Nail today's interview and get noticed in the social affairs desk.
What pulled her out of her wandering thoughts was the voice of the palace maid beside her.
"Reporter Song Euna. You will shortly be entering the chamber where His Majesty awaits. We will assist you here in arranging your attire."
"Ah. Yes. Thank you."
She briefly adjusted her clothes and received a briefing on the points of etiquette for an audience with the Emperor.
There were matters of protocol—sit only when invited, do not drink the tea first, never turn your back—and there was also a practical warning: ask nothing beyond the questions agreed upon in advance.
Still, there aren't as many things to watch out for as I expected.
The older section chief who had once interviewed the previous emperor had half-jokingly told her to be careful even about breathing. Clearly this new emperor was more people-friendly, and the formalities had been simplified accordingly.
What kind of person is he, really…
As a collateral-line relative who had been far from the succession, little was known about him beyond the fact that he held a master's degree in history from the Imperial University.
Since ascending the throne he had appeared in public several times, but only ever in his official capacity.
His features, too, lacked the fierce impression of the previous emperor; the lines of his face were finer, and some media outlets, linking that with the recent Jade Pavilion incident, had even described him as frail and overly sentimental.
Will the real person match the image?
Today's interview was still one where the questions and answers were half-scripted, but it did step somewhat into the personal sphere, so she might see a side of him different from anything so far.
His private life is something even the paparazzi have half given up on, so this is really…
Even agents of Jeguk Ikmunsa could not fully control dozens of paparazzi.
Except for the Gwanghwamun area, where windows could not be installed above a certain floor, rooftops were sealed off, and the military was permanently stationed, it was not particularly difficult to photograph the Emperor's private life with a zoom lens from a high-rise.
And yet, in the months since his accession, not a single private photograph of the Emperor had ever been taken. The only reasonable conclusion was that he had essentially never left the palace.
She walked down a long corridor. The door opened, and the Emperor was suddenly before her eyes.
"It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty. I am Song Euna of the Hansung Daily."
I had been told in advance, but I hadn't expected them to send a reporter this young.
"It is I who am honored to sit for an interview with a reporter of the Hansung Daily. Please, sit. This may run long, so let us talk over some tea. Do you know the tea ceremony?"
"I am sorry. I have never studied it."
"That is quite all right. I myself only began learning recently. Truth be told, I used to drink far more coffee than tea. Please, make yourself comfortable. Coffee has been prepared as well, if you prefer—do not feel obligated."
"Ah, no, this is fine."
A brief moment of tea-drinking passed, and then the interview proper began.
"We are honored that Your Majesty chose to grant this conversation to our Hansung Daily. May I ask why, among so many outlets, you selected ours?"
"I chose the Hansung Daily because I want my words today to be conveyed without any addition or subtraction.
The pro-imperial papers already believe the Grand Academician was right, so they would twist what I say. As for papers that keep their distance from the Imperial House—I was not confident they would conduct a proper interview with me at all. So I chose the relatively neutral Hansung Daily."
In this Korean Empire, you could more or less tell a pro-imperial paper from the rest just by the name.
If it had words like "Imperial," "Empire," or "New Subject" in it, it was pro-imperial.
If it used "Citizen," "Great Han," or "People's Report," it was… not exactly anti-imperial, but a paper that tried to hold a neutral view.
Actual anti-imperial papers that went after the Imperial House for real? A few existed, but their influence was tiny.
The closest thing was the party organ put out by the republicans, and even they only really sharpened their knives when the Imperial House itself caused a problem.
Even if I did an interview with Republican Party figures, who would even read it.
Which brought us back to the Hansung Daily. Not "Imperial Capital," not "Gyeonghwa"—a paper that used the neutral word "Hansung."
In practice, too, it maintained a neutral stance on most incidents, and in this latest affair it had been one of the few to argue that "we should hear the view of the Palace Administration, the official channel of communication."
"I see. Has Your Majesty read the novel that has recently become controversial?"
"I have read it—after the controversy arose."
"What is Your Majesty's view of the statement by the Grand Academician of Sungkyunkwan that the author Lee Myeongbok is a traitor?"
"I acknowledge the loyalty behind it, but I found it a little excessive."
"Then may I ask what measures the Imperial House intends to take regarding the writing of author Lee Myeongbok, which is at the root of this affair?"
"None whatsoever. This country clearly guarantees freedom of publication. Even if someone wrote something that insults the Imperial House, I will take no action against it.
Can silencing a mouth also silence a change in the people's hearts? If that work became so popular that the entire nation agreed it was right, then it would mean this Imperial House had lost the Mandate of Heaven."
"I… see. Thank you for your words."
The interview ends here, but there's still a little time left. Should I say something more?
As I was thinking, the reporter was the one who spoke first.
"If it would not be an imposition, may I ask a few more everyday questions?"
"Of course. I, too, am curious about what the public wonders."
"May I ask how Your Majesty mainly spends your time when there are no official duties?"
"Th… at would be… historical research. A personal hobby of mine."
"Ah, of course. Now that you mention it, you arranged for the annals to be made available for reading at Gyeongbokgung. Was that also for research?"
"Indeed."
"Might I ask what sort of research?"
"Ah… it is purely in the realm of hobby. I simply read through the annals and the Seungjeongwon Diaries. Nothing so remarkable."
"Would it be fair to connect that with the fact that Your Majesty is sometimes seen carrying a laptop at official functions?"
"Hm? Was I photographed like that as well?"
"Yes. It was taken from a distance, so one cannot see exactly what work was being done, but a screen that looked as though something was being written has been captured before. Perhaps Your Majesty is preparing a new academic paper…?"
"A paper? Nothing of the sort… It is a simple bit of writing that would not even rank among such things. Everyone tore into my master's thesis so thoroughly already—I have nothing fit to present."
"A pity."
"A pity, but it cannot be helped. Having my writing cause controversy once was more than enough."
"Speaking of which—you said you had read the controversial novel. What did you think of the author's writing?"
"Ahem. Have you read it yourself, reporter?"
"Yes."
"And what did you think?"
"I did not major in history, so I cannot speak to the history itself, but I found it engrossing. I was especially struck by how it diverges from the Empire's history starting from the Joseon period.
The Imjin War arc, twisting the Gyeongin Japanese Invasion, was also memorable. That said, sidelining the other generals who excelled on land and piling excessive glory onto Admiral Yi Sun-sin only to give him a tragic end felt like a stretch to me."
"I believe that is entirely possible. The Joseon in the novel did not even possess matchlocks, and its army was poorly trained. Facing a Japan that had unified the whole country with essentially none of the legacy of King Mujong's era, it was bound to be outmatched.
So of course it would suffer defeat after defeat on land, and the only remaining gambit would be the navy. The Admiral Yi Sun-sin left to us by history would, by rights, have the strength to raise a navy even in adversity and reverse the tide.
As for the tragic end—if Admiral Yi did not exit the stage, he would keep being mentioned in all the history that follows, and the writing would grow scattered. So he was removed."
"Removed, you say? That phrasing… almost as if Your Majesty were the author…"
"Ah."
I'm fucked.