Chapter 110
Chapter 110
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Hanyang Great Fire (8)
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Solving just the immediate problem doesn't mean everything is over when something major erupts.
You have to handle all the losses and aftermath from the issue, and only after implementing follow-up measures to ensure neither that problem nor anything similar ever happens again is it truly finished.
Even if the first accident can be chalked up as an unavoidable mistake, the second one is no longer a mistake—it's a preventable disaster that wasn't prevented.
"To solve this problem, we'll ultimately have to eliminate the butcher caste itself."
In Joseon, being born a butcher means a normal life is utterly impossible from the start.
The court cracks down, forbidding them from even slaughtering cattle or horses.
And nomadic herding of livestock? Forget it—they're persecuted mercilessly, as if dirt had gotten in their eyes.
With their entire livelihoods banned, butchers should be integrated into rural communities... but those communities refuse to accept them.
A slave at least gets taken in as the lowest rung of village society and can scrape by somehow...
But butchers? They're seen as a pack of criminals and riffraff who commit all sorts of low acts, or filthy butchers who kill cows, so they're shunned as a matter of course.
Because of that, even when they try to settle in rural areas, the farmers all scorn and avoid them, chasing them out nine times out of ten.
Even Confucian scholars armed with righteous ideals will climb over walls after three days of hunger for their families' sake—so what choice do butchers have when there's no way to eat?
They end up succumbing to the temptation of crime.
"But a harsh environment shouldn't be an excuse for committing crimes."
This is the classic line from criminals everywhere.
"I was born into a miserable, impoverished life, so I had no choice but to turn to crime."
"If I'd been born into a wealthy, harmonious family, would I have committed crimes?"
But that's complete nonsense not worth listening to.
There are countless poor people in this world, yet only a tiny fraction turn to crime.
Do the rest avoid crime because they lack limbs or have low intelligence?
Of course not.
If anything, the ones committing crimes are the ones with issues in intelligence or mentality.
The poor folks who don't commit crimes? They've got no such problems.
"Still, as a politician, I can't just ignore the issue. So first, I need to examine why they turned to crime..."
Hate the sin, not the sinner.
But I'm just an ordinary person—pretty selfish, too—so I can't follow that teaching.
At least, I do think we should despise the environments that drive innocent people to sin.
That's how we find the key to solving the problem.
"The biggest reason is that Joseon's commoners won't accept butchers as one of their own. So how do we get the people to embrace them?"
Yi Seong-gye, King Taejong, and King Sejong the Great tried to redeem butchers through Confucian benevolence and charity.
From a Confucian viewpoint, that might be right, but from a bureaucrat's perspective, it's an utterly unacceptable policy.
If they'd been veterans who'd fought for Joseon for years on the northern frontiers like Hamgyong or Pyeongan Provinces, maybe—but handing out land, houses, and even wives just because they're butchers? What kind of policy is that?
"It's like giving organized crime gangs apartments in Seoul and jobs at major corporations or as civil servants to socialize them."
If Korea tried that today, the Blue House servers would crash and the building might even burn down.
Joseon being a pre-modern state meant no servers to crash and no one torching Gyeongbok Palace or government offices.
"The commoners need to feel like, 'Those guys have suffered plenty too.' In the end, is that the only way?"
Almost no Koreans like the migrant workers from Southeast Asia or China.
But suppose those workers volunteered for the Korean military—something they didn't have to do—and served out a full term as army privates.
Korean men would probably welcome them with open arms, saying they've more than earned their right to Korean citizenship.
Why? Because they've suffered just like everyone else, so they deserve to live in Korea.
"For Joseon's development, we need to promote rice paddy farming, which means massive water control projects... Using the butchers for three to five years on those ought to do it."
Show the villagers firsthand how hard they're toiling, and how those efforts ensure steady irrigation water for farming... They'd have no choice but to accept them as fellow tenant farmers.
After all, they've earned their 'citizenship' by suffering several times worse than anyone else, just for the crime of being born butchers.
"Alright, time to draft a policy outline..."
I started grinding ink in the men's quarters to write up the policy report when I heard Gyeol calling from outside.
"Are you still awake, my lord?"
"I've got work to do, so I can't sleep yet. Once I finish this, I'll rest—don't worry too much."
Even after I said that, Gyeol opened the door and came in.
She sighed at the sight of me grinding ink.
"Aren't you pushing yourself too hard? Since the big fire, you haven't slept at home properly for the past ten days—not even two hours a day... I'm really worried about you burying yourself in work like this."
"Once I finish this, I can go back to sleeping like before."
I forced a smile, but she placed both hands on my shoulders and turned me toward her.
"When exactly will that 'this' be done?"
"Soon—a month at most, half a month probably."
"So you'll keep pushing like this for at least another half month?"
Anger flickered across Gyeol's face—something she'd never shown me once since we married.
Even when I came home badly burned from fighting the fire and got treated at the palace, she hadn't said a word, just quietly nursed me.
"I'm worried you'll collapse from overdoing it, my lord."
"I'm fine. I'm still young—this much won't make me collapse."
"Everyone who overdoes it and collapses says exactly that."
"That's true, but I'm okay. Really, I'm not tired."
In truth, ever since the great fire, guilt over all the people I could've saved but didn't has been crushing my shoulders.
It's hard to fall asleep, and even when I do, I wake up easily.
So I've been throwing myself into work until I'm too exhausted to keep going, crashing for two or three hours, then heading to the office—rinse and repeat.
"No one can go more than ten days sleeping that little without getting tired..."
Tears welled up in Gyeol's pretty eyes and started falling in drops.
"That day of the huge fire, no one told you to, but you rushed to the front to put it out. I didn't try to stop you. Truth be told, I wished several times you'd evacuated safely to Noryangjin with me... but what could I do? The man I love throws himself into danger without a thought for his own desires if it's for the people. So with my heart tearing apart and worry gnawing at me, I swallowed it all deep down and just prayed you'd come back safe."
If Gyeol were heading off to do something dangerous... no, forget it.
When childbirth comes, staying sane would be impossible.
I'd use every trick to keep hygiene perfect and make sure she delivers safely.
The problem is, even with insane hygiene, maternal mortality at birth would still top 1%...
In modern society where it's a mere 0.001%, husbands pace frantically with worry... 1%...
'No way I'd stay sane.'
Right now in Joseon, childbirth mortality is at least 7%, averaging over 10%. That's why they prepare water and offer prayers before delivery.
But what was it like for Gyeol?
Watching her husband hurl himself into blazing flames? Her heart must have shattered.
"After the fire was out, a palace herald came to find me. He said your official robes were scorched by embers, caked in mud, torn to rags in places... And you'd suffered burns all over, your life in peril, with the royal physician tending you personally..."
Gyeol threw herself into my arms and started pounding my chest with her fists.
Not light taps, but solid thumps, like unloading the weight crushing her heart.
It hurt—a lot.
But compared to her pain? Nothing.
"I went to the temple Prince Hyoryeong introduced me to and offered prayers every day until you woke. If Avalokitesvara truly exists, I begged—please, please save my husband, who offered his life for the sake of living beings."
...I had nothing to say, even ten mouths wouldn't help.
"I'd been praying like that for days when word came from the palace. No anomalies in your condition, and you'd regained consciousness. I was overjoyed at the news you were safe, but I thought once you were home, I'd grill you, maybe even yell. Why risk your life on something so dangerous? Wasn't it too reckless?..."
Gyeol buried her face in my chest and began sobbing aloud.
"But when you came home, your face was full of guilt... I couldn't bring myself to say anything. If I scolded you too, it might really break you. I couldn't add to the heavy burden you already carry... So I forced a smile. Forced myself to say you'd done well. That I was proud. All my heartache and pain didn't matter anymore. As long as you came back alive and unhurt, that was enough."
"I'm sorry. From now on..."
Gyeol cut me off.
"You didn't do anything wrong. I know it sounds selfish, but if you'd ignored the people to stay with me, I think I'd have been disappointed. The man I love is someone who gladly throws himself into the fire for them. But, but please... from now on, treasure your body too. If you die, how am I supposed to live out the rest of my life?"
Her words made me think.
About what it would be like if Gyeol died.
I hated even imagining it—heaven collapsing, earth caving in.
"And while I was praying at the temple, there were quite a few fire victims sheltered there. Once they learned I was your wife, they all came to me. They thanked me. When I did my three thousand prostrations, some joined in beside me, praying for your safety. I asked why, and one said he'd lost a son in the fire but thanks to you, saved his other children and wife—he was so grateful. All the victims thanked you... So please, don't torment yourself over the past anymore. Get some proper rest. And stay strong."
"Really? They didn't resent me for not saving all their family?"
"The arsonists are the villains. How could they blame you? They all praised you as the noble man who led the way in saving their homes and lives. But if you burn yourself out like this and collapse... How guilty and heartbroken would they feel?"
"Yeah... you're right."
Only then did my heart lighten a bit.
And with it, exhaustion crashed over me like a tidal wave.
I gave up on the report, went to the bedroom, and lay on the mat.
I didn't resist the fatigue for even a second—fell asleep like collapsing.
Just before drifting off, I think I heard these words in my ear.
"We weren't born on the same day, but we'll die together. I can't live without you, my lord."