Chapter 168
Chapter 168
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 168
Chapter Title: Commercial City Hanyang (2)
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Hanyang right now is, to put it nicely, in the midst of rapid growth. To put it harshly, it's expanding in size at breakneck speed with no countermeasures in place.
When I first received my government post, Hanyang's population was around 100,000.
But now, it's exceeded 140,000.
In the Western calendar, I began my official career in 1422.
It's now autumn of 1427, so in just five years, Hanyang's population has grown by 40%.
No, the real surge started two or three years ago.
"This is insane. People aren't mass-produced in factories."
Every time I think about it, my head throbs.
Fortunately, even with this mad population boom, I've expanded the Sanitation Troops to handle manure collection and such thoroughly, so not a single epidemic has broken out.
In this era, when a plague hits, thousands die as a matter of course.
"Still, the population growth has spurred commerce, making life much better."
Restaurants have sprung up near Six Ministries Street, and gukbap joints and eateries selling all sorts of dishes have multiplied everywhere else.
Officials consider eating out in public undignified, so they order delivery of whatever they fancy and eat at home.
But middle-status folk like clerks and martial supervisors don't mind dining out or getting delivery.
Places like Noryangjin, Yongsan, and Gwangjin even have hamburger-style spots now.
"Shall we grab a bowl here today?"
Just a year ago, dining out in Hanyang meant gukbap and little else. Now, the options are plenty diverse.
Mackerel set meals, assorted gukbap, pubs serving booze with snacks...
Seeing all this makes me think: with a little nudge from me, couldn't someone open a sushi joint in Hanyang? Or sell Chinese food?
Taking it further, once Hunminjeongeum comes along, ramp up cheap paper production, advance printing techniques, and sell cookbooks too.
"Gap-seok."
"Yes, sir."
"I'll have the mackerel set meal. What'll you get?"
"May I have the same?"
"Sure. Order two mackerel sets. And a bowl of takju each."
In Joseon, makgeolli counts as a beverage, not liquor.
So even under alcohol bans, twice-fermented makgeolli, thrice-fermented stuff, soju, and fine liquors get prohibited...
But unless there's a massive famine, they never ban makgeolli brewing outright.
Ah, except in King Yeongjo's reign, that brutal era where he chugged pungent songjeolcha reeking of booze while preaching sobriety and had a peculiar fondness for mitten crabs and dried persimmons.
"Thank you, sir."
"What's the world's greatest sorrow? Hunger, while staring at someone else eating."
In special forces training, they build mental grit by having instructors and assistants grill pork belly while the starving, exhausted trainees watch.
It's meant to toughen the mind, but the trainees all say it's the most agonizing moment.
Feed Gap-seok on time while he works. If I eat alone while he watches... that's inhuman.
Make him resentful like that, and he might stab me in the back someday.
Soon, the mackerel sets arrived.
In Joseon, people of different statuses—or shared tables in general—are a social taboo, so our meals came separately.
"Thank you for treating me to such fine food."
"Mackerel grills used to be pricey in Hanyang, but now with ice houses lining the route from Incheon, transporting fish is easy. It's not so rare anymore, right?"
Before water transport boomed, fresh fish in Hanyang was—exaggerating a bit—like medicine.
Salted dried mackerel wasn't quite that precious, but still rarer than decent pork due to transport woes.
Now, ice storage keeps it fresh without hassle, so even commoners can have it if they wish.
"Eat up before it cools."
As I reached for my spoon, a weird smell wafted from the rice and sides.
Not vinegar—slightly sour.
"Smells off."
But everyone else here is eating without a care.
Is it just mine?
"Gap-seok."
"Yes, sir."
"No sour smell from yours?"
He heard me and tilted his head.
"Not the freshest, sure... but it's fine."
"......I see."
"You always eat the best, sir, so you're not used to food with a slight tang like this. Me? No problem."
Born with a silver spoon, I've never touched rotten food, not even day-old rice.
Once I could speak, I petitioned Father: even slaves must never eat spoiled rice or sour makgeolli.
Botch that, and food poisoning hits—life hangs by a thread.
'Dehydration from poisoning? You're done.'
Joseon folk eat whatever's edible from childhood, toughening stomachs and immunity, so mildly off food might be okay for them...
But restaurants serving this casually? What happens down the line?
Thinking about it is nightmare fuel.
"Let's go."
"Sir, isn't it a waste?"
"Get sick from this and die? You're about to meet your grandkids—imagine croaking without seeing their faces."
Just seeing my Jang-saeng's face makes me grin; thinking of him sprouting up daily lifts my spirits.
When that tiny Jang-saeng grows, marries, and brings me grandkids...
Heart races at the thought.
So much so, if Yama grabbed me and said, "Retire at term limit without grandkids, or see them but die young?"
'See the grandkids, even if I die young.'
I forced myself up and, before leaving, sipped the makgeolli.
Sour, bitter taste; sour smell. It's on the verge of spoiling.
"......Not the only inn or eatery like this."
No food poisoning outbreaks in Hanyang yet because folks shrug it off.
Spoiled-food poisoning was commonplace in medieval times.
Yeah, past incidents can't be helped...
But going forward, no one dies from rotten food under lax hygiene oversight. We stop that cold.
"Gap-seok, let's move."
"Aren't you hungry, sir?"
"Hunger's not the issue."
Hanyang's day laborers and single men working firms and workshops are surging.
Street carts and restaurants will boom accordingly...
But if hygiene basics are ignored while they multiply exponentially?
Dysentery epidemic—hundreds, thousands dead in a wave.
"After I head to the office, go home and eat. Buy ten chickens on the way—eat two yourself."
Koreans say "one chicken per person," but Joseonites eat way more than 21st-century folk.
Two chickens plus rice should fill him.
"Thank you, sir."
I hurried to Hanseongbu.
Resolve this food poisoning mess ASAP.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A short while before Kim Dae-bung arrived for duty, Yi Ye—the newly appointed Hanseong Governor and diplomacy expert—was leisurely reviewing his tasks.
Mountains of work loomed, but he had no major worries.
"Minister of Rites said to dump the tough, messy jobs on Kim Seo-yun when he shows."
Yi Ye himself was Joseon's famed diplomat, a living "legend of foreign affairs" who'd crisscrossed Japan and Ryukyu multiple times...
But he was just a lowly clerk who'd never passed the exams.
Thus, the court named him Hanseong Governor as a stepping stone—for when Japan affairs escalated, they'd need a higher rank to put him in charge.
A transit post, essentially.
"Governor, sir—Seo-yun has arrived."
"Ah, Kim Seo-yun's here already? Heh heh, with that Kim Jibu on board, Hanseongbu can finally breathe. Welcome."
His brain buzzed with joy at offloading complex work, blind to Kim Dae-bung grinding his teeth to overhaul Hanyang's food hygiene.
So he greeted his helpful subordinate with maximum warmth.
"Thrilled to work with you, Kim Seo-yun. Come, I'll specially walk you through Hanseongbu duties."
But Kim Dae-bung shook his head firmly.
"Governor, if we continue like this, countless people in Hanyang will die of dysentery."