Revolution and Counterrevolution (1)
A flash of light, thin and skeletal as a withered branch, streaked toward the clear night sky on the heels of a thunderous blast.
That beam, which had stabbed straight through the desolate heavens, soon gave way to the ear-splitting lamentations of the dying.
BOOM. CRACK.
The terrible explosions announcing the Enlightenment Party's uprising reached even the bedchamber where the monarch resided.
And yet—
"So it begins."
The man who murmured this stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out the window at the pond's surface, which trembled faintly in the blast's aftermath. He was Yi Hyeong, master of the palace.
"Hmm."
Yi Hyeong, King of Joseon, was not particularly surprised. Everything that would unfold tonight had been planned by him.
Beneath a candle flame that danced in the night wind seeping through the window cracks, Yi Hyeong read on through the Seonghap Sipdo and thought.
Three warships of the Beiyang Fleet that put into Jemulpo a week ago put back out to sea — the Incheon magistrate reported it to me late yesterday. The earliest Qing can move with any speed is three days from now.
In truth, Joseon's first telegraph line would not open until late September of 1885, and the Hanseong Telegraph Bureau that would oversee the line between Seoul and Incheon had yet even to appear. The Westbound Telegraph Line running from Seoul through Incheon to Uiju — which Qing would open in order to expand and consolidate its influence over Joseon — was still a month away, scheduled for the twenty-eighth of October. That meant the Enlightenment Party's coming uprising would cost Qing, at the very fastest, three to four days of travel by sea.
And three days was enough.
"Everything so far has gone exactly as I expected."
Yi Hyeong closed the book with a look of satisfaction and gave a small nod. It was he himself who had personally revised the Enlightenment Party's uprising plans, taking into account that the telegraph line to Qing had not yet been connected, and who had selected the Postal Bureau's inauguration ceremony as the date.
"No one will suspect a thing."
Given the nature of so grand an occasion as the opening of the General Postal Bureau, he himself had actively proposed to the Enlightenment Party's inner circle that they exploit the advantage of gathering the court's principal ministers and officials in one place without raising the slightest suspicion.
"And the capital has been much quieter of late."
It had already been two weeks since the Dongmaenghoe and that boy orator who had so frequently gotten on his nerves had vanished without a trace. Once those pests who had plagued the court disappeared, the seditious assembly they had led — the Manmin Gongdonghoe — had naturally lost its fire, its popularity a shadow of what it once was.
"I even thought of giving the clever boy a post at the Hyeminseo, out of appreciation. A pity."
Syngman Rhee, was it? Rumor had it the boy spoke with remarkable intelligence, that there was life in his eyes, and that he even had a talent for medicine. The problem, they said, was his vicious tongue — not a vessel fit for high office.
I am a monarch of abundant virtue, after all.
Yi Hyeong, who regarded himself as a just sovereign unlike the kings before him — one who did not discriminate by status or clan pedigree — felt a twinge of regret that a talent who might have become a loyal servant had vanished. He cocked an ear toward the corridor. The guest he had arranged to receive was far too late.
"Hmm. He's late, though."
Just as planned, the explosions had sounded three times, and the duty royal secretary had reported that the Front Guard, temporarily stationed at Bugaksan, was on the move. Yet as his guest grew later and later, Yi Hyeong felt a nagging sense of unease. He propped his chin on his hand and reviewed the uprising plans and documents.
Prince Consort Geumneung. That boy.
According to the original plan, Park Yung-hyo — a member of the Enlightenment Party and a royal relative who mediated between both sides — should already have come to denounce the Sadaedang figures for plotting treason. And yet, strangely, Yi Hyeong could not shake the feeling that the Prince Consort was stalling.
"Tsk."
When it came to his own safety and power, Yi Hyeong possessed an intuition developed to an almost unnatural degree — sharper even than that of his father, the Grand Internal Prince. He grasped the Enlightenment Party's true intentions at once.
These wretches are entertaining other ideas.
And "other ideas," depending on interpretation, could well be called treason.
An uprising rests on two vital pillars: trust and timing. If those two axes are thrown off from the very start, the uprising has already failed.
"Nngh."
A faint vein rose on the monarch's brow as he confirmed that the Prince Consort and the Enlightenment Party were playing a different game. This was a plan he had carved with painstaking care. And they dared — those very men to whom he had personally extended his trust — to treat it so lightly?
This was why one could never rely on inferiors!
"...Not a single soul at court I can trust."
This was not paranoia. It was a conclusion extracted under rational, reasoned judgment. Otherwise, it made no sense that the Prince Consort had yet to appear with a State Tribunal inspector in tow, ready to lodge the pre-forged Sadaedang circular petition and bill of accusation.
Only once he himself received the denunciation would they move in earnest — imprisoning or slaughtering the Sadaedang figures and the pro-Qing ministers. Was that not the plan?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
How much time passed after that? The vibrations from the bombs that had gone off at the distant detached palace had long since faded. Yi Hyeong frowned at the pale flickers of firelight that leapt up now and then, and at last he gave it up.
"Fine."
If he delayed any further, the Enlightenment Party — not he — might become the protagonist of this uprising. The greedy monarch, who hated nothing more than watching anyone but himself take the spotlight, finally made up his mind.
"Secretary."
"Yes, Your Majesty. You summoned me?"
The royal secretary, jolted from a light sleep by the predawn explosions, rushed into the bedchamber and bowed his head. Yi Hyeong issued his orders with composure.
"Have Cho Yeong-ha, Commander of Gyeongsayeong, report for duty at once."
"R-right this instant, Your Maj— I shall order him to present himself with all haste."
The secretary, startled and about to ask what on earth was happening at this hour of night, struck his own mouth and begged pardon. Yi Hyeong continued.
"Do not forget to convey this as well. The Geumwiyeong and the Eoyeongcheong are to proceed to Changdeok Palace. The Chungyungcheong at Bukhansanseong Fortress is to assemble at Gyeong-u Palace. The Sueocheong and the Yonghoyeong are to be organized as a royal guard and attend me at close quarters from this hour forward."
"Yes."
"You may withdraw."
Confirming the secretary had left, Yi Hyeong decided this was not enough to put his mind at ease and immediately reached for the next contingency. He issued orders to a eunuch who stood beside a pillar as motionless as a waiting-wife stone.
"Eunuch, attend."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Tell Cho Byeong-ho, Chief of Police, to bring the night patrols of every bureau and the personnel of the Police Bureau and assist in the palace guard at once. This is a royal command."
"I shall convey it immediately."
"Also inform the Governor of Gyeonggi that Seo Sang-u, Deputy Commander of Haebangyeong, is to mobilize his troops and thoroughly seal every one of the Four Great Gates."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
As the eunuch scurried away, Yi Hyeong tore up every copy of the uprising plan he had previously drawn up and fed them to the roaring brazier.
So this is the fruit of tearing the army to shreds.
It was of no benefit to Joseon itself, but for Yi Hyeong the monarch, the kingdom's current defense — little better than a rabble — was ideal beyond measure.
"Heh heh."
The four garrisons that had each been granted the same title of royal army were split between the Sadaedang and the Enlightenment Party along pro-Japanese and pro-Qing lines, and they distrusted one another. The old-style army, with the Military Training Command abolished and divided into Gyeongsayeong and Haebangyeong, was a soulless force drifting this way and that through empty air, without any real center of gravity.
"The most those Enlightenment Party brats can mobilize is a mere seven hundred."
This was a figure Yi Hyeong himself had verified again and again; there was no room for doubt. Of course, the Enlightenment Party might have secret private soldiers and outside collaborators they had not disclosed even to their king — but those would number a few hundred at most.
"Haebangyeong and Gyeongsayeong are large enough. No need to worry overmuch."
The forces he had just ordered mobilized through the secretary and the eunuch numbered fifteen thousand on the ledgers alone. Even applying Joseon's traditional laws of physics — whereby ledger strength was typically cut to a third — that was still eight times what the Enlightenment Party could field. He had issued military orders to every force that could be mustered in the Gyeonggi vicinity, including Bukhansanseong Fortress, excluding only those already under Enlightenment Party or Sadaedang command. Worry was a luxury.
"If I withhold my royal endorsement for even a single day, the Enlightenment Party will be rats in a jar."
They would stamp their feet and scream for him to save them. They had meant to denounce the Sadaedang for treason and purge them — only to be seized for treason themselves? They would never have imagined it even in their dreams!
"Heh!"
And so Yi Hyeong sat tapping the desk as if to ask those wretches what they planned to do without him. A moment later, unexpected ill tidings came flying in.
THUD!
"Y-Your Majesty! Urgent news!"
"Hm?"
The man who crossed the threshold was the duty royal secretary who had gone out moments before to carry out his orders.
"What is it?"
The instant their eyes met, a queasy sensation brushed the back of King Yi Hyeong's neck.
What is this familiar feeling?
"Th-that is... well... outside..."
The addled fool stood rooted to the spot, his mouth opening and closing with outrageous impropriety, until he realized his error and flung himself down in a full prostration, wailing.
"Your Maje~sty! Villains have slaughtered numerous high officials of the government who attended the inauguration ceremony and abducted the foreign Envoys!"
"Wh-what?"
"Furthermore, they invoked a royal command to drive off the fire brigade that had come to extinguish the blaze, and some of them overpowered the night patrols who were controlling the roads to guard the palace! I beg Your Majesty to take heed!"
"W-wait!"
Leaving the wailing secretary behind, King Yi Hyeong was thrown into confusion. Slaughtered numerous high officials? Abducted the Envoys? Invoked a royal command? What in the world was this?
...These wretches dare to insult their sovereign?
When had he ever ordered them to kill the Sadaedang figures?
A kill list!
Grasping the Enlightenment Party's true purpose, Yi Hyeong was aghast. These bastards had crossed the river without a moment's hesitation!
"Your Majesty!"
"Silence!"
A hunting dog so greedy it would bite even its own master — the Enlightenment Party's declaration of war!
"How dare they."
Yi Hyeong barely caught his reeling senses as the Enlightenment Party's outrage careened in a direction he had never imagined, and he shouted at the eunuch who had caught him as he started to collapse sideways.
"I must go to Changdeok Palace at once!"
"Your Majesty!"
"Clear the way! Every moment counts!"
"It is dangerous outside, Your Majesty!"
"Out of my way!"
Shoving aside the secretary who tried to stop him, warning that it was dangerous outside, Yi Hyeong burst from the bedchamber.
Fortunate that I issued the orders early.
Yi Hyeong congratulated himself on the shrewdness with which he had already summoned the two armies.
"Lead the way!"
"Yes!"
Gyeongsayeong and Haebangyeong had already been dispatched to guard Changdeok Palace; he himself had to make for Changdeok without delay. The enraged monarch's footsteps were faster than anyone's.
It was the pitiful thrashing of a man who could not bear to become a scarecrow of power once again.
"Find them! Kill the traitors to the nation!"
BANG! CRACK!
A chaotic dawn, filled with the shouts of the coup troops and the intermittent roar of gunfire. Cutting through the sharp, nose-stinging reek of gunpowder, a single rickshaw tore madly through the alleys.
Rattle-rattle! Rattle-rattle!
The rickshaw lurched violently from side to side; at that brutal speed, stones leapt up from the road now and then. From inside — where the motion was enough to induce seasickness, as if one were riding a mountain tiger's back — a deathly pale hand shot out, unable to endure the violent pace any longer.
And then came a grotesque moan.
"Hieeeek! Hieeeek!"
The owner of that moan was none other than Min Young-ik, Clerk of the Mint and Military Affairs Commissioner. In a world that would not stop shaking, he forced back the evening meal surging up his throat and muttered.
"M-my stomach... I'm going to be sick."
At last he could bear it no longer. He thrust a face as ashen as his blanched palm out of the rickshaw and retched helplessly, and the rickshaw man hissed in irritation.
"Hey, keep it down, will you? We'll get caught like this!"
"Uweeegh!"
"Block this road!"
"Catch the fleeing traitors!"
"Damn it."
Spotting the torches of yet more rebels in the distance, the rickshaw man hastily swung the shafts around and snapped at Min Young-ik.
"I'm going out of my mind here! Shh! Shhh!"
"Mmph, mmph!"
With no other choice, the rickshaw man stuffed his own sweat-soaked towel into Min Young-ik's mouth and began to pick up speed once more.
Thud-thud-thud!
If they delayed even a moment, they would be seized by the coup troops who had begun controlling the roads in earnest. They had to hurry and take shelter either in Jeong-dong, where the rickshaw guild was, or near Myeongnyebang, where the shops were many.
"Uegh!"
As the rickshaw man worked his feet in a frenzy, Min Young-ik — his mind still a chaos of the brutal massacre at the Postal Bureau — sank into thought with the stinking towel clenched in his teeth.
H-how did everything come to this...?
The last thing he remembered was the white brain matter spraying from Han Gyu-jik's skull after the man had swung a porcelain vase and gone down.
"In consideration of our old friendship, I shall let you go. Guard your tongue until the situation is settled."
"Th-thank you."
One way or another, the rebels had dragged him out from under the table to execute him, only for Baeg-on — Kim Ok-gyun — to intervene, citing old friendship, and he had nearly been transferred to the Uigeumbu along with the foreign guests.
Rattle! THUD!
"Uwaaagh!"
A single rickshaw appeared, shoving aside the rebels who had been about to lead him to the carriage bound for the State Tribunal.
"W-what is this?!"
Knocking one man down and spinning the rickshaw around with uncanny skill, the rickshaw man barked at him at once.
"If you want to live, get in, sir!"
"Uh...?"
"Wh-what the—?!"
"He's getting away! Catch those bastards!"
Only now, barely collecting his wits, did Min Young-ik remember that he had not even thanked the rickshaw man who had saved him. Shamefaced, he opened his mouth.
"Ah, earlier..."
Only now did his whole body grasp that he had barely escaped with his life. Hands trembling, he carefully asked the rickshaw man who was guiding him somewhere.
"The Hanseong Rickshaw Guild, you said...?"
"That's right!"
"How on earth did you know my situation—"
Still unable to make sense of what was happening in Hanseong, he started to ask again, but the rickshaw man cut him off.
"The Dongmaenghoe asked us to!"
"The Dongmaenghoe...?"
"That's right!"
Staring blankly at the rickshaw man's dark nape from inside the swaying rickshaw, Min Young-ik was soon thrown into confusion.
"The Dongmaenghoe?"
The Dongmaenghoe? All of a sudden? And why would they save him? His mind went blank, as if several crucial pages had been torn from a book. Min Young-ik stammered.
"Why...?"
The instant the question left his mouth, Min Young-ik kicked himself internally.
Why?
Oh, even he had to admit he looked like a complete idiot. He was striking his own lip in self-reproach over his stupid conduct when the winded rickshaw man answered, panting, in a tone of utter exasperation.
"Hah... hah! Why are you asking me that?"
"Ah, well, that is—"
Right. Why had he asked this man?
"If you're so curious, go ask the people waiting for you, sir! I just take the money and do the job because I've got the fastest feet in Hanseong!"
"Ah."
Faced with that perfectly reasonable answer to a perfectly stupid question, Min Young-ik resolved to keep his mouth shut. He clung to the inside of the rickshaw, still wrestling with his nausea.
Some time later, having barely arrived at a guild building in Jeong-dong, Min Young-ik found himself face to face with some astonishing people.