Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Normalization of Tribute Goods (2)
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Whether in the past or now, there are plenty of damn scoundrels who treat taxes like free money falling from the sky.
Yet for a pre-modern state with an unusually high level of centralization, Joseon was utterly abysmal at managing its taxes.
They claimed to reduce the people's tax burden but collected almost none of the revenue needed to run local governments.
And up until the mid-Joseon period, they didn't even pay salaries to clerks or soldiers.
Knowing this reality, I was willing to turn a blind eye to them skimming a bit through tribute goods.
Monks at temples aren't supposed to work for free, after all, so I planned to overlook some labor fees they pocketed.
"You rotten monk bastards! Have you truly lost your minds?"
"Oh no, we're innocent."
"I was prepared to overlook the modest fees you took for procuring goods on behalf of the county office. But what in the world is this?"
I'm reading through the ledgers they had hidden in the corner.
These guys aren't just tax thieves—they've been treating taxes like their personal piggy bank.
Joseon officials were so clueless about commerce that even into the 16th century, if a market sprang up in any town outside Hanyang, they'd send out enforcers to crack down immediately.
Damn, our heads must have been on monkey level for this to happen.
"You only paid the merchants a measly 3,521 seom of rice. Yet you reported to the county office that it cost 8,234 seom. That means you pocketed over 4,713 seom of white rice in profit! Where in the world has such an outrageous thing ever happened?"
"Magistrate, there's a reason for it all."
"Reasons be damned! The money you demanded from the county office is the blood and tears of the common people. They had no choice but to shoulder the excessive taxes when the office demanded it! You wicked, greedy monks filled your bellies with that hard-earned blood money and even expanded your temples. Is this the enlightenment and salvation of sentient beings that your Buddha preaches?"
If Buddha knew about this, he'd probably ram a divine palm strike right into their skulls.
I may not know much about Buddhism, but the religion is all about shedding worldly desires and worries to achieve freedom.
But these bastards tormented the people just to satisfy their own greed.
That's a violation of Buddhism's core principles—Buddha himself wouldn't let them off the hook.
Even if not, as a Joseon Confucian scholar and magistrate, I have a duty to harshly punish these rotten remnants of Goryeo's monkish ghosts.
Ignorance is one thing, but once I know of their corruption, I must eradicate it on the spot.
"I will report every one of your embezzlements and corrupt acts to His Highness and ensure you face severe punishment. And by the magistrate's authority, I will have you all flogged with 20 strokes of the cane in succession."
At the mention of 20 strokes, the monks began trembling violently.
"Mercy, Magistrate! Please spare us—20 strokes..."
"Even a sturdy man can't walk for days after 20 consecutive strokes."
In historical dramas, 100 strokes of the heavy cane seem trivial, but in reality, it's basically a death sentence. Even 10 strokes often shred the flesh from the legs...
Take 100 in a row, and you'll die from the pain or infection anyway.
That's why in Joseon, local officials would sometimes administer 100 strokes to bandits they wanted dead without even reporting to the king.
So for these guys, 20 strokes means at least a week without walking on their own two feet.
And then they'll face King Taejong's iron fist, who loved the people no less than King Sejong.
"From this moment, we repent our sins and vow to aid the people in accordance with Buddha's teachings."
"A tree rotten to the roots must be uprooted. Watering and fertilizing it won't bring it back."
We hold in high regard those who were human trash but repent and atone for their past by living rightly.
It's hard to commit a grave sin and spend the rest of your life reflecting on it while living properly.
Twist that a bit, and it means once-corrupted evildoers repeat the same crimes two or three times over.
Suppose I let these guys off here. Would they be grateful? No chance.
They'd just grit their teeth and, once a new magistrate arrives, hunt for new ways to embezzle like before. Old habits die hard.
Forgiveness? Far better to punish them harshly as a warning so no one dares repeat it.
The death penalty exists as a blunt warning from the state: do evil, and we'll kill you. Not to urge bad guys to be good.
"In a fortnight, administer 20 strokes to these bastards in the county office courtyard, and spread the word far and wide to the people about why they're being caned."
Even the clerks who had opposed punishing the monks now stayed silent in their defense.
"With such a fair and just ruling from you, Magistrate, the people will rejoice that a fine administrator has arrived."
"Scum like that must be punished severely."
The clerks probably wanted to plead for leniency too. They must have known to some extent that the monks were skimming taxes...
After all, as long as the monks paid them proper kickbacks (bribes), they could keep protecting them for endless income. Sustainable revenue source and all.
But skimming double the amount? Even they must think that's too much.
"Magistrate, why wait a full fortnight to administer the caning? Three days should suffice to spread the word around town."
"Since we're doing this, why stop at just announcing they diverted tribute goods? Better to reveal exactly how much they skimmed and declare we'll return that exact amount to the people."
From now on, just announcing reduced tribute collections would have the people cheering.
Their backs have been bent under heavy tribute burdens, and it'll shrink substantially.
But add that we'll return the exact skimmed amount right away?
I'll look like an angel restoring their unjustly stolen money.
The ripple effects will be dramatic.
Not that I plan to, but even if I just coast through the rest of my term doing nothing, I could end up with a Stele of Merit and eternal praise as a legendary magistrate.
Ah, getting a stele might boost my chances of becoming Hwang Hui... but whatever.
Priorities: wipe out these troublemakers first.
"So, Ibeon, contact the merchants who dealt with those corrupt monks right away. Tell them the county office will deal directly from now on—negotiate fairly."
"Yes, Magistrate."
Direct dealings without monks might even get us better prices.
Plus, it'll stimulate the local economy.
The problem is collecting local specialties only as tribute. Sell them nationwide?
It'd create jobs for countless people as a key industry.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Joseon tends to view merchants as vermin eating away at the nation.
Because of that—or to put it plainly, like a modern CEO—these men trembled before me.
They probably think I'll crack down on them like other magistrates.
They've likely heard the monks they dealt with are headed to Hanyang soon for King Sejong's iron rod of justice. No wonder I seem scarier.
"I have no intention of oppressing you."
Oppressing merchants gains nothing. The more you squeeze them, the more the local economy crumbles.
Other scholars might dismiss them as loafers chasing easy money due to Confucian bias... but I know their true value intimately.
No one in the 21st century dismisses merchants—or companies.
"Those corrupt monks took far too much illicit profit under the pretext of gathering tribute goods for us. That's why I must punish them severely."
At "far too much illicit profit," the merchants perked up their ears.
Right—I'm willing to overlook your collusion with the monks. Nitpick every detail, and town commerce grinds to a halt in chaos.
Even reformers must respect practical limits.
Pledge a communist utopia where everyone lives equally? Good luck running a country.
"So from now on, deal directly with me for tribute procurement. Understood?"
"Yes, Magistrate."
"I've heard some ignorant fools demand absurd prices in government deals and ruin things. Thus, I'll scrutinize fair market prices meticulously in our transactions."
"Is that true?"
If the county office just buys at reasonable prices, it's a win for them too.
How much did those swaggering monks gouge them under the guise of handling tribute?
They strutted around like royal envoys on official business—historical records even say so.
"But heed one warning."
At "warning," they swallowed hard.
"Don't get caught using major deceptions on me."
That's the key here.
Minor tricks—like a bit extra for profit—I'll tolerate.
Insist on rock-bottom costs, and I'd be exploiting them.
But major fraud like those rotten monks? That's a death sentence declaration.
"Now, let's talk things over slowly."