Write the <em>Hunminjeongeum Haeryebon</em>
The day Crown Prince Munjong had originally summoned me was a Sunday. But he'd ordered me into the palace right after Grand Prince Suyang's visit. What the hell? Why'd he call me? No way he thinks I've gone over to Suyang's side, right? How do I clear up this misunderstanding—whoa! All the worries I'd been grumbling about the whole rickshaw ride evaporated the moment I entered the Six Ministries district.
I'd wandered around here for days, but this was my first time seeing Gwanghwa Gate head-on. I'd visited it in the modern era too, back when it was dulled by that hazy smog like a perpetual fog. But now, with those countless emerald-glazed tiles on the roof, it sparkled like a jewel.
"Whoaaa…!"
It wasn't just sparkling—it was practically glowing, and I couldn't tear my eyes away. The thought that I was about to go through those gates hit me fresh, filling me with awe.
"We've arrived, my lord!"
Gwanghwa Gate loomed closer until the rickshaw pulled to a stop. I hopped out and waited for the guy footing the bill.
"Did we keep you waiting long, sir?"
The follow-up rickshaw arrived, and out stepped the one paying—not Eori, but the eunuch sent to fetch me.
"Nah, just got here."
"Very good, sir. Please wait a moment. I'll settle up right away."
The eunuch who'd insisted on being called Eunuch Jeong paid with a clean-shaven smile, then led me through Gwanghwa Gate.
"Whoaaa…!"
Even after passing through, I couldn't summon a single worry about the Crown Prince. The sheer fact that I'd stepped into the real Gyeongbok Palace from history left me gasping in admiration. Built less than a century ago, it was so stunning I could've stared forever without tiring. Blinking felt like a waste of time. To think it'd be torched during the Imjin War and dismantled under Japanese occupation. Fucking Japanese bastards. Well, at least in this Great Shift world, the future might change a bit.
"Heh heh heh heh."
Eunuch Jeong, leading the way, let out that thin, eunuch-like chuckle. He was missing a couple of beads from his string—er, beard—but he didn't break stride as he spoke.
"I've guided many to the palace on His Highness the Crown Prince's orders, but you're the first to act like you're just sightseeing, Captain."
"Huh? Really? They didn't see this? This right here?"
"Heh heh heh heh. Truly bold, sir. This way, please."
Following Eunuch Jeong, I gawked at Gyeongbok Palace. Not just the buildings like Gwanghwa Gate—the walls topped with those blue-green tiles dazzled my eyes.
"Heh heh heh. That over there is Geunjeongjeon Hall."
Eunuch Jeong kept walking, pointing out landmarks: Yeongjegyo Bridge spanning the Golden Stream, the towering Geunjeongjeon, and even Jip-hyeon-jeon where the Crown Prince worked.
"Oh."
"Is something wrong, sir?"
Thinking about who might be in that Jip-hyeon-jeon made my feet halt on their own. The tourist vibe vanished, replaced by surging anxiety about meeting the Crown Prince.
"Uh, um, do I have to go?"
"It's the Crown Prince's command, sir. You must."
"What if I don't?"
"…"
He just smiled at me, saying nothing—like he knew damn well what would happen.
"Got it. Let's go."
There were fewer than ten modern transmigrators in all of Joseon. No way he'd kill me over this, right? With that thought, I followed Eunuch Jeong into Jip-hyeon-jeon.
"…!"
"…!"
"…!"
The moment I entered, the musty scent of books and heavy silence hit me. Eunuch Jeong left me by the entrance and headed deeper in. So this is where Yi Sun-ji teaches the trainee scholars? Three of Joseon's handful of modern souls in one building. I waited for Eunuch Jeong, curious what Yi Sun-ji would be like.
"His Highness says to enter."
He returned quickly and led me further in. Past shelves crammed with books, we reached a room where palace maids stood at attention. Eunuch Jeong spoke to the closed sliding door.
"Your Highness. Idle Captain Kim Si-jin has arrived as ordered."
"Enter."
The Crown Prince's voice from beyond was worlds apart from the guy I'd shared drinks with—strictly business, public and private separated.
Shhh. The door slid open right after his words—not automatic, but pulled by the maids on either side.
"Captain, please enter."
"Oh, right."
I'd zoned out from nerves. Snapped back by Eunuch Jeong's urging, I stepped inside.
"…"
In the room's center, surrounded by wall-to-wall bookshelves, sat the Crown Prince. He was hunched over a desk piled high with books, scribbling intently.
"Your Highness the Crown Prince. Idle Captain Kim Si-jin, reporting as ordered."
I bowed low, even though he hadn't glanced my way. Straightening up, his stern voice rang out.
"Idle Captain Kim Si-jin, come forward."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Heart pounding, I approached. He positioned me opposite him, still not looking up as he asked,
"So, you're the one with a talent for writing?"
"Pardon?"
"Tsk. Insolent."
"My apologies, Your Highness."
The out-of-left-field question had me blurting a rude echo. He caught that I hadn't understood and gave a hint.
"I heard you set your sights on national script before."
National script? He means Korean literature, right?
"Yes, Your Highness. I've devoted myself to it, but only for about a year."
"Yet you're no novice. Sit here."
He pointed to the seat opposite, so I sat obediently. He fetched fresh paper, wrote something in Hangul, and slid it over.
Write the Hunminjeongeum Haeryebon.
"?!"
This wasn't some post-Joseon collapse 21st century, with King Sejong still alive and kicking. Made barely 30 years ago, and he wants me to write that book? I just blinked at the paper.
"…"
I sat there dumbfounded, frozen. He took the paper back, wrote something else, and handed it over.
Compare this to the original here.
I still didn't get it. I'd only skimmed the Hunminjeongeum Haeryebon once; no memory of it. I shook my head to signal no dice.
"Mm."
He nodded, understanding. Took the paper again, wrote something random, and passed it back.
If you don't know, write a world literature short story.
"…"
Was he messing with me? I looked up at him. Dead serious, eyes saying what're you waiting for?
I widened my eyes in silent question: For real? He nodded like duh.
Like, actually write one? Nod.
Really for real? Nod.
To test, I grabbed a brush and wrote back.
Is this because I met Grand Prince Suyang yesterday?
"Pft!"
He stifled a laugh at my note—not at my handwriting or because I nailed it. He wrote the reason.
No problem if you don't seek him out or get too chummy.
I wrote back the same way.
For real?
Nod.
You or the other modern folks gonna betray us?
Shake.
Why?
He seems to like you.
I didn't want to buddy up with a guy who faked niceness while tormenting people. Hesitant to tell his older brother that, I kept it vague.
We just don't click.
"Kh-huh!"
Another burst of laughter from him. His eyes sparkled as he returned to the main topic.
Can you write world lit shorts?
I'd read more books than most lit majors, cherry-picking for grades. Recalling a few, I wrote back.
Don't know 'em all. But why?
Better they read that at home than cause trouble outside. Moral ones only, nothing weird.
Why not write 'em yourself?
If mine leak, it'll tank my rep and get me deposed. You're a nobody—write 'em. Pick a pen name. How many? 100.
"…"
I looked up again. Same dead-serious stare.
I widened my eyes silently: For real? Nod.
Like 100 for real? Nod.
Actually? Nod.
Three times, no shake of the head. I waited for a counteroffer, but he stuck firm—no topic change, no fewer numbers.
Don't remember any.
Write what you remember.
Takes too long.
Write in your spare time.
Got a home to go to.
Write on the way home.
No matter how I dodged, he wouldn't budge. To convey it was truly impossible, I stared at him silently.
"…"
"Hmph."
He snorted like he'd expected it. Before I could write, he snatched the paper, scribbled, and returned it.
Showing you this year's Mugwa Hakdang entrance exam questions.
I stared blankly at first, uncomprehending. Then it hit—entrance exam corruption—and I jolted back, toppling off the chair.
"Whoa?!"
Crash!
The chair clattered loudly through the room. Folks outside heard and fretted—not for me, for the Crown Prince.
"Your Highness! What happened?"
"Kh-heh, ha ha! N-nothing. The Idle Captain just tripped. Puh-heh…!"
"Shall we summon the physician?"
"N-no need. Kh-huh…! Hey, you. You alright? Pfft…!"
He barely held in laughs while answering. I hauled my throbbing body up, nodding.
"Y-yes, Your Highness. I'm fine."
Still, I wrote a protest.
Isn't this exam rigging?
Nod.
Right.
Is that okay?
Modern perk.
Still feels wrong. Not fair.
You're the unfair one.
What?
"…"
Now he looked up, frowning as he glared, then wrote back.
If you flunk Mugwa Hakdang, petitions flood in nationwide. Ties to His Majesty the King's secret orders too. Make you pass somehow.
A secret mission from King Sejong himself sparked some motivation. But leaving Eori alone at Yi In-su's place worried me.
Work from home okay.
He knew that worry too. But once started, concerns kept bubbling up, so I listed more.
Unpaid labor?
Paid. 100 nyang per story. Deal?
Hell yeah! I even sketched a thumbs-up and a salute before handing it over.
"Puh-ha! Ah ha ha ha! Ah ha ha ha ha!"
Ignoring his roaring laughter, I re-inked my brush. Pondering what to write first, I recalled today's rickshaw ride and jotted down A Lucky Day.
Unaware his eyes were sparkling at me. This oughta advertise the kid's my guy. Good thing he's a Korean lit guy too. Perfect timing—I wanted a library for commoners anyway.