The Princess from Joseon
In Liaodong, it was Bia. I turned the girl’s name over in my mind again as I watched her scan the stalls with those bright, curious eyes. Her clothing resembled that of the Central Plains but differed in the way the front panels overlapped and in countless small details. Her pronunciation was fluent yet carried a faint, unmistakable accent. There was no need for evidence; one glance told you she was not from the Central Plains. Unlike with Yeo Hong-seong, there was never any mystery about her origins. I couldn’t have failed to recognize it even if I tried. After all, I had once passed the Korean history certification exam.
Geographically, only one foreign kingdom could have sent someone all the way to Liaodong. Joseon. And from what the man called Hyul had just said, she was at minimum a high-ranking noble—perhaps even royalty. Hyul struck me as a sensible man. Instead of losing his temper, he had chosen an indirect way of informing me who she was. That suggested her status was high enough that even in Liaodong people would yield to it. Which meant she could only be a princess. No mere Joseon noble would make the people of Yan bow their heads.
Sending a princess to Liaodong instead of arranging a marriage alliance—what could Joseon possibly hope to gain? No matter how I looked at it, this could not be good news for Yan. I was still turning over Joseon’s intentions and how I might use them when Bia’s clear voice cut through my thoughts.
“Hey, what’s this one? Oh… Osuyu? Has the state of Wu come back to life?”
“It means the Osuyu tree that grows wild in the old lands of Wu. We’re still in Chu territory, though.”
“Really? So what do you use it for?”
“For washing. It replaces the soapberry.”
Soap. The invention people always said they would make first if sent back to the past. Yet the human desire to be clean transcended eras. In this time, too, various substances served the same purpose for bathing and laundry. Along the Yellow River they used the fruit of the soapberry tree, while in the Yangtze region, where that tree did not grow, people relied on the fruit of the Chinese soapberry instead. Perhaps that was why my soap had not sold as well as I expected.
When I finally succeeded in producing it from the Osuyu tree back in Zhao, I thought it would shake the world. In truth, it did prove superior in both cleansing power and fragrance, so the nobility bought it without fail. It had become a luxury item.
Bia, being a girl, brought the soap to her nose and seemed unable to tear herself away. “Do you know how to make it?”
Look at her. Covering her true aim with natural charm, trying to dig out the foundation of my business. Had the cunning of the Warring States rulers spread even to foreign lands?
When I simply smiled without answering, Bia gave an innocent little laugh as if to say, Oh, was that rude of me? and smoothly moved on. I wondered whether she wanted it for herself or whether she hoped to learn the method and introduce it to Joseon. A sly little princess, yet one who clearly loved her country. As the owner of a trading company I should have been furious, but thinking of her as an ancestor from my previous life, I found the sight rather endearing. She was still just a child, yet she never stopped thinking about what she could do for her homeland even in a foreign land. It could not be easy.
I should give her some when we part ways.
Joseon had the soapbark tree, which could fully replace the Osuyu. If she knew the method, she could reproduce it easily. Even if Joseon began producing its own soapbark goods, it would not hurt me. What could they do with it? There was no way to bring it to the real market in the Central Plains. Crossing the Tian Shan, passing the Yin Mountains, and reaching Yan? The distribution costs would surely exceed the price of the goods themselves.
Conversely, I had no incentive to lead a caravan across the mountains all the way to Joseon. To me, Joseon was simply not part of the market. I’ll prepare a gift for her when the time comes.
Unaware of my thoughts, Bia stared at the soap with obvious regret before finally tearing herself away. After the Osuyu soap, medicines, and oils, the stalls mostly held ordinary goods handled by any trading company. None of them seemed particularly novel to her; she gave them a cursory glance before turning back to me.
“What do you have inside?”
“Valuables. Ornaments carved from ivory and jade, and books as well.”
“Books!”
In an age without paper, books were made by laboriously tying bamboo slips together one by one. The very character for “book” (冊) was modeled after bamboo slips bound with string. Wooden tablets of other kinds were also used, and though cheaper than paper, they were still expensive for commoners. Without printing presses, the cost of copying by hand had to be factored in as well.
If only I knew how to make paper, I could sell printing presses too. If only I had reincarnated three hundred years later. Then Cai Lun would already have invented paper.
“Let’s go inside!”
Bia’s energy was so brisk I almost doubted she was really a princess. The moment she grabbed my wrist, Hyul’s face crumpled, but that was none of my concern. Inside the building, the number of people was smaller and the goods more spaciously arranged than outside, making it far more pleasant to browse.
As if determined to prove my earlier thought—that she must be a girl because she noticed the soap—wrong, Bia ignored the jewelry entirely and marched straight toward the books. Joseon’s future looked bright. With a ruler so hungry for knowledge and so decisive, the kingdom had managed to preserve its integrity through the chaos after the Warring States, all the way to the Chu-Han Contention, and had even turned the turmoil to its advantage by absorbing talent and culture.
The bright expectation on Bia’s face vanished quickly. She drooped her shoulders, saying she had already read them all. In her hand was a copy of The Art of War said to have been written by Sun Wu.
“Do you like military texts?”
“Huh? Yeah. If you want to survive in this era, they’re absolutely necessary.”
Joseon, too, had tasted the fires of the Warring States. The very man who had torn away half its territory was still breathing comfortably here in Yangping. Joseon would have learned in its bones how devastating defeat in war could be, and how vital it was to study strategy in order to prevent it.
“In that case, I think I have something I can recommend.”
Once Bia and the other customers had left, the shop closed its doors. The company members, however, remained busy. They were bringing in the goods left aboard the ships in preparation for tomorrow.
Sitting on the counter, I watched them work.
“Young master.”
“Ah, Hanso. You’re back.”
Hanso, as the shared surname suggested, was a distant relative of Han Jing. In later eras distant relations might as well be strangers, but people still placed great importance on clan ties; even distant cousins often maintained close relationships. Hanso had always been more inclined toward commerce than officialdom, and at Han Jing’s recommendation he had joined the company at once. I had never met him before, so the position of intelligence chief had gone to Jing Ke, but had I known Hanso earlier I would have given the role to him. His ability was that impressive. He was someone I could entrust with this mission, and the only member of the caravan who knew my true identity.
“I didn’t expect you to step forward yourself.”
“You saw?”
“Yes. You knew she was the princess of Joseon, then?”
Hanso had just returned from meeting Jin-gae, the lord of Yangping Fortress, in his capacity as the company’s representative. There were many complicated procedures—using the docks, renting the building, conducting trade—that needed to be handled. He must have learned of the Joseon princess’s arrival while dealing with those matters. I nodded silently.
“General Jin-gae is still vigorous. He has reached the age of ear compliance this year, yet his spirit remains formidable.”
Ear compliance meant one year before sixty, or fifty-nine by full years. Of course, people still used nominal age, so by the Korean reckoning I was familiar with he would be sixty. It had been exactly thirty-three years since Jin-gae’s great victory over Joseon, which meant he had been only twenty-seven at the time. Yes, a man needed at least that much talent to be called the second sword of King Yeon Soyang and accomplish a feat that would echo through history.
“And the information I asked you to gather?”
“Unfortunately, there appear to be no significant internal problems within Liaodong. General Jin-gae’s control is quite strong.”
“Then we discard the third plan.”
Solve the problem and receive compensation. A perfectly orthodox method, yet one that required a problem to exist in the first place.
“How many days remain?”
“Five days for trading in the rented building, plus three days for purchasing new local specialties and loading cargo, for a total of eight days granted. Two have already passed since our arrival, so six days remain.”
“Does that include our late arrival yesterday?”
“We worked through the night to make up for it.”
“He’s strict.”
Six days. Not a long time. If I revealed my identity, an extension would be simple. Though the King of Yan was wary of me, I was still his one and only legitimate eldest son. Unless Jin-gae intended to openly oppose the Yan court, he would have to treat me as an honored guest. But that was a last resort. It would be best to finish everything without revealing my status to the outside world.
“Hanso, I’ll move separately tomorrow.”
“We can say you are inspecting Liaodong’s goods. I’ll assign two guards.”
“Good.”
This marked the true beginning of my inspection of Liaodong.