Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: Transportation Reform (3)
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There's a running joke that even someone who barely speaks any English, if dropped into some corner of America without a single Korean around, would become fluent in just three months.
But it's not something you can just dismiss as absurd nonsense...
Even a terminal case of English phobia, if left all alone in America where not a word of Korean gets through, has no choice but to scrape together money right away, buy their own food, find a place to crash—do whatever it takes just to survive.
Whether piecing together survival English with gestures or single words, they end up in a situation where English is the only option.
And in struggling to stay alive, they gradually adapt to the language, or so they say.
The artisans who crossed over from Ming are just the same as us—human beings—so this process and method should work on them too.
"Congratulations on voluntarily coming from Ming to Joseon. By His Highness's grace, you are now Joseon people."
The gathered artisans tilted their heads in confusion.
They must have heard what I said countless times during the journey from Ming to Joseon, and several more times after arriving here.
So when I step up to repeat those endlessly familiar words, they can't help but wonder what my angle is.
"His Highness took pity on you poor souls who could barely choke down rice gruel in Ming and gave you white rice, even houses to live in. If you're decent people, shouldn't you always hold that grace in your hearts and strive to repay it?"
Before coming to Joseon, these shipwrights from Ming had done every grueling job under the sun without discrimination, yet skipping meals was probably routine.
Or at best, scraping by just enough to keep body and soul together.
Cornered into such desperate straits, they risked life and limb on a single promise of a better life.
Not knowing for sure if our word was a scam or not, they had no choice but to come to Joseon anyway.
Life in Ming must have been pure hell.
I pointed to the oldest among the group and asked.
"Isn't that right?"
"Yes, that's correct. We'll work hard to repay His Highness's grace."
"Good. You're all here of your own volition, and now you've got the heart to repay that grace without anyone forcing you—truly a sight to behold. But unfortunately, you're not yet prepared to do so."
If I handed these guys their tools and materials right now, they could probably whip up a Ming treasure ship in no time.
But I didn't have Hwang Su-shin drag them here just to make Ming replica ships.
So what's the real goal?
To spread the technology for building those Ming treasure ships across all of Joseon.
But in their current state, disseminating that knowledge is impossible.
To achieve what I've set out to do, these Ming artisans need to personally teach Joseon's own craftsmen...
But how are they supposed to pass on skills when they can't even communicate?
This isn't some university foreign language class taught in the target tongue from day one—how the hell are Joseon's artisans supposed to understand Ming Chinese?
'These guys need to learn Joseon speech.'
"In Ming, you follow Ming laws and speak Ming's language—that's the norm. So now that you're in Joseon, doesn't it stand to reason you should use Joseon speech and follow Joseon laws?"
"Yes, that's correct."
Joseon is an incredibly generous country toward foreigners.
Park Yeon, who worked for the East India Company, crossed into Joseon, learned the language, and embraced the culture as it was.
King Injo granted him an official post, and all of Joseon's people came to see him not as a naturalized outsider, but as one of their own.
But flip that around, and here's what happens.
If you live in Joseon but can't speak the language or follow the culture, you'll be treated as barbarians.
King Sejong the Great, in particular, once forced Arabs who settled here—still clinging to Allah and refusing ancestral rites—to assimilate into Joseon culture by any means necessary.
"Yet here you are, claiming to be Joseon people while unable to speak a lick of Joseon speech. Do you think that makes any sense?"
My words left the Ming artisans speechless.
It's simple common sense: a Joseon person speaks Joseon speech.
"Right now, you're Joseon people in name only, half-baked at best since you can't speak the language. So we'll halve your stipends too—eight mal of white rice per month."
Eight mal of white rice is still way more than they'd get in Ming.
But it won't be enough to feed their wives and kids properly.
At minimum, they'd need double that—sixteen mal—for three square meals a day.
In other words, to keep their families fed, these guys have every reason to learn Joseon speech as fast as humanly possible.
'Better treatment than in Ming, so they won't dare complain.'
"But once you can hold conversations in Joseon speech, you'll get one seom and six mal of white rice monthly—nineteen seom annually—and we'll build you houses near the shipyards by the Admiral's Division."
Nineteen seom of white rice a year is no small sum, whether in Ming or Joseon.
It's on par with a production worker at a top-tier Korean conglomerate.
Even Yongle Emperor probably didn't pay that well during Zheng He's treasure fleet voyages.
"You'll really give us nineteen seom of white rice?"
"We'll differentiate based on your skills and experience... but the top earners could get up to thirty seom. Plus, two seom extra for mastering Joseon speech quickly, ten seom for teaching shipbuilding well to Joseon's artisans, and..."
I beckoned Jang Yeong-sil forward from where he stood beside me.
"Ming might build fine ships but never grants artisans offices. Joseon is different. Work with true zeal, and you could rise to an official post like this man, Leader of the Crafts Bureau."
"Is that for real?"
"Why would I lie to you? It all comes from His Highness's grace."
The Joseon officials, without me even prompting, started shouting "Long live Your Majesty!" in Chinese.
Sure enough, nothing wins hearts like money.
"But nothing in this world is free. To enjoy His Highness's grace, you must become full-fledged Joseon people. From this moment, I decree a ban on using Ming speech among you."
The fastest way to pick up a foreign language? Cut off all access to any other tongue—make it so you can't hear or speak anything else.
Extreme, sure, but for Koreans, try this: slap subtitles on Japanese anime and binge it nonstop for a year, minimizing Korean talk to the bare minimum. Your Japanese jumps big time.
Individual differences apply, but with hiragana down and this immersion, you hit part-time job level in Japan easy—full daily conversation too.
Plenty of JLPT N1 takers built basics this way, then studied a bit more before testing.
'Some even showed up decked in character merch.'
Joseon's Bureau of Interpreters uses similar methods to train theirs.
"From now on, to master Joseon speech, you may use Ming words only when directly comparing them to Joseon ones. Otherwise, no Ming speech whatsoever."
The Bureau really dings interpreter trainees for slipping into Korean chats among themselves.
So the training I'm giving these guys qualifies as elite-level stuff, reserved for interpreter candidates in Joseon.
"Now, what happens if you're caught using Ming speech instead of Joseon? No beatings, no slashed stipends starving your families. But I'll make you regret it to your bones. I'll demonstrate exactly what that feels like. Military Instructor Kim Jeong-hwa, front and center."
At my words, the disciplined instructor snapped to attention before us.
"Prepare Loyalty Calisthenics."
I named it Loyalty Calisthenics, but really, it's guerrilla gymnastics.
The nightmare routine of brutal moves that first pop into mind with "guerrilla training."
Every slip into Ming speech means doing this—unit liability, one round per offense.
Only then will they develop a visceral hatred for Ming speech and desperately stick to Joseon.
"Begin Loyalty Calisthenics, numbers one through thirteen."
Instructor Kim flawlessly executed each guerrilla move at sharp angles to my commands.
The Ming artisans stared in fascination.
Yeah, you'll be doing this soon enough.
One taste, and just the 'Ch' in Calisthenics will have you freaking out.
"There you have it—Loyalty Calisthenics. Everyone, drop and give me number one prep."
Someone who's never tasted lemon won't sour at the sight.
No saliva trigger.
But anyone who's bitten into one knows the terror... one glimpse floods the mouth.
These guys need the experience too.
That this calisthenics is pure hell.
"Execute."
High or low status, this era's all about rank—Joseon or Ming.
They've got no choice but to obey me.
Or face something truly tragic.
And so I gifted them exercises one through seven.
They're all half-dead, but eight awaits.
After the instructor's demo, I ordered them into number eight.
"Number eight, execute."
Calling cadence while they do it—even though I banned Chinese—they're cursing up a storm in it anyway.
Poor, pitiful souls.
I clearly said no Ming speech...
Words didn't sink in? Time for the body to learn.
"I told you new Joseon people not to use Ming speech. Ignoring me like this? Looks like you're short on loyalty and patriotism."
"No!"
"You don't even know 'no' in Joseon speech yet? Special lesson: Ming's 'bu shi,' Joseon's 'aniimnida.'"
"Short on loyalty and patriotism?"
"Aniimnida!"
"I think using Ming speech means you're lacking loyalty and patriotism!"
...
...Build an environment where they have no choice but to learn Joseon speech, push them hard enough to ditch Ming for good.
It's all for the nation.
Absolutely not me venting grudges from basic training guerrilla hell.
"Number eight, thirty reps!"
That day, the Ming artisans learned with their bodies why they must use Joseon speech.
And in just two months, they could communicate at a basic level.