Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Emperor Gojong (1)
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"Phew, I'm totally wiped out."
As soon as I entered the residence of Minister Waldersee, where Prince Adalbert and I were staying during our time in the Great Korean Empire, I collapsed straight onto the bed without even changing clothes.
Minister Waldersee had warned me, but I never imagined there would be this many people.
It felt like not just the folks from Hanyang, but everyone from the provinces had swarmed in.
Thanks to that, my arm ached from waving at the crowds—I felt like I could drop dead any second.
Knock knock.
"Baron, may I come in for a moment?"
But just as I lay down, as if rest was a luxury I didn't deserve, someone knocked on the door again after only a short while.
Honestly, I wanted to stay put without moving a muscle, but that wasn't an option, so I groaned and dragged myself up to open the door.
Standing outside was a man who looked like a legation staffer, arms loaded with who-knows-what, waiting for me.
I tilted my head in confusion, and he gave me an ominous smile before speaking.
"A ton of letters and gifts have arrived for you, Baron."
"...What?"
I blinked in disbelief, and he handed me a massive basket.
Inside were letters—more than all the fan mail I'd ever gotten for Immortal Admiral Yi combined.
It was enough to make me sigh on the spot, but that wasn't the end of it.
The staffer beckoned, and servants hauled in boxes and parcels wrapped in luxurious silk fabrics.
There were Goryeo celadon and Joseon white porcelain as basics, ink paintings and calligraphy pieces that made me want to yell, "These belong in a museum!", ornate traditional crafts decorated with orchids, and even gold toads and golden turtles.
Everything I laid eyes on screamed expensive.
"Huh? Hans, what's all this?"
As I scratched my head, feeling like some corrupt official drowning in graft, Prince Adalbert—who had already changed out of his uniform into something comfortable—stared at my room, now a treasure trove, with his mouth agape.
"Gifts for me, apparently. No idea who sent them."
"Here's the list. Would you like to take a look?"
The legation staffer handed me a roster of the senders, which he'd apparently prepared in advance.
I nodded slightly in thanks and scanned from the top name.
[Lee Wan-yong]
"Fuck."
Just seeing those three characters made my vision swim; I nearly blacked out.
Ignorance really is bliss, I thought.
I took a deep breath to steady myself and checked the others.
Yi Geun-taek of the Five Eulsa Traitors, Kwon Jun-hyeong—descendant of Kwon Yul and Yi Sun-sin, yet a Japanese collaborator unlike his ancestors—and Min Byung-seok, whom I'd seen earlier, among others.
The list was littered with names of pro-Japanese traitors who would soon sell out the country in the near future, tainting my innocent eyes.
Sure, there were unfamiliar names too, but to me, they all looked the same.
Hell, even Hayashi Gonsuke, the Japanese minister who orchestrated the First Japan-Korea Agreement and the Eulsa Treaty, was on there.
'Are all the letter writers the same crowd?'
I'd have to check to confirm, but my hunch was probably right.
These gifts were no doubt bribes, hoping for a crumb from me.
"Ha. Can't just toss this stuff out."
I muttered, feeling a headache coming on.
I had no intention of playing along with these traitors' nonsense, but dumping priceless cultural heritage in the trash was out of the question.
In the end, for cultural preservation, I decided to accept the "gifts" for now.
I could return them later or donate to a museum.
"Could you clear these out of my room for now? No space to even lie down like this."
"Of course. We'll store them in the warehouse and load them onto your ship when you leave."
The staffer soon summoned servants to cart everything away again.
Now my gaze turned to the basket overflowing with letters.
I wanted to burn them all, but there might be some from decent folks, so I'd have to check.
Grudgingly, I sat on the bed and started reading the names one by one.
As expected, mostly traitors.
Lee Wan-yong had even sent three letters—must've eaten something bad. Fitting for the three-time traitor champ of Eulsa, Jeongmi, and Gyeongsul.
His enthusiasm was disgustingly fervent.
I was seriously considering chucking them all into the fireplace when a letter caught my eye, written in an archaic, elegant script that stood out from the rest.
For some reason, it gave off an unsettling vibe, different from the others.
With trepidation, I checked the name on the envelope.
"Choi Ik-hyeon...?"
Choi Ik-hyeon, the leader of the Isolationist faction.
A prime example of the yangban scholars reduced to relics of a bygone era in this time.
Of course, one of late Joseon's top anti-Japanese figures—far better than Lee Wan-yong types—but he was a stubborn Confucian scholar, conservative bordering on reactionary.
Put simply, Joseon's last true scholar.
For better or worse.
Why would he write to me?
Choi Ik-hyeon and I were like oil and water.
No way that crusty old man thought fondly of me.
Maybe he mistook me for avenging the Samjeondo humiliation?
"This one's on hold."
I'd read Choi Ik-hyeon's letter carefully later.
The overwhelming welcome crowds and the traitors' mind games upon arriving had pushed me to my limit.
Besides, I had to meet Emperor Gojong early tomorrow morning.
I needed to conserve my energy and sanity—no desire for unnecessary shocks from whatever was in that letter.
Gojong was no easy mark, after all.
The next morning.
Prince Adalbert and I donned splendid dress uniforms and prepared for our audience with Emperor Gojong.
But it wasn't just us; Minister Waldersee, Captain Ingels, and a few officers from SMS Hertha were joining too.
"Your Highness, the Korean delegation has arrived to escort us."
"Understood. Minister, we're nearly ready— we'll head down shortly."
Prince Adalbert checked his reflection, then gestured for me to follow.
Come to think of it, this was my first official audience with a foreign monarch.
Informally, sure—but Edward VII was always in family-gathering mode, never this stiff and formal.
Preparations complete, we descended to where Minister Waldersee, Captain Ingels, and Min Byung-seok and Park Je-sun—whom I'd seen yesterday—awaited.
Not that they were welcome sights.
"Your Highness, Baron."
Min Byung-seok, the palace minister, and Park Je-sun, the foreign minister, bowed deeply as we approached.
Outside, flanked by Korean imperial guards like yesterday, stood a palanquin.
They seriously expected us to ride that?
For real?
"Minister, will crowds swarm us like yesterday?"
"Not that bad, so don't worry."
Waldersee whispered in my ear.
Still plenty, the implication went.
Makes sense—riding a palanquin now would draw eyes anywhere.
Small mercy: Gyeongun Palace, the imperial residence, wasn't far from the German legation in Hanyang.
"Oh! We're riding that?"
"Yes, Your Highness. It's called a palanquin—moved by human power, unlike a carriage."
Adalbert's eyes lit up with curiosity at my explanation.
To Westerners used to horses or cars, it was exotic.
Alice Roosevelt, Teddy's daughter I'd met recently, rode one during her Korean visit too, I recalled.
Personally, I'd take yesterday's car.
"Ooh~ It's moving!"
We climbed aboard, and bearers hoisted the palanquin.
Adalbert clapped like a kid, fascinated.
I felt queasy, remembering my seasickness.
Wanted to swap with Waldersee on horseback.
Clack clack clack.
"Oh, there's that young baron."
"Where they headed?"
"Bigwigs all over it. Off to see His Majesty."
As our slow palanquin passed under guard, passersby waved.
Still crowded, but better than yesterday.
I gripped the swaying frame and waved back with my free hand.
Then Min Byung-seok approached.
"Heh, even kind to the lowly folk, Baron."
"Just returning kindness with kindness."
"I see. Ah, did you receive my gift?"
So that's his angle.
"Sorry, I don't mix personal talk with official business."
"My apologies. Then, let's chat at a more relaxed time later."
Misreading my distance as coyness, he smiled.
I had zero plans to meet him privately—utterly ridiculous.
Thus passed a short yet endless time.
Finally, Gwanghwamun Gate loomed ahead.
"Hans, that massive gate the entrance to Korea's palace?"
"Used to be."
Adalbert, sightseeing Hanyang streets I'd missed yesterday, asked about Gwanghwamun; I replied.
Gyeongbok Palace was rebuilt under Heungseon Daewongun, Gojong's father, but the current imperial palace was elsewhere.
"Now it's Gyeongun Palace nearby."
The famous Deoksugung.
After the Agran Incident, Gojong moved to the minor villa near foreign legations—its name forgotten by then—for safety.
The Eulmi Incident left him deeply traumatized.
(Note: Deoksugung name change came in 1907, post-Gojong's forced abdication and Sunjong's ascension.)
We entered via Inhwa Gate, the main entrance. Vowing never to ride palanquin again—even if I had to walk home—I stumbled off, dizzy.
"Follow us, please."
Trailing Park Je-sun and Min Byung-seok, our group proceeded.
Deoksugung—no, Gyeongun Palace—from school trips looked different from my memories.
21st-century version was restored post-1904 fire and colonial damage.
After minutes of walking, Jungwha Hall, the throne hall, appeared.
Unlike modern single-story, it was two-story—burned next year, rebuilt as we know.
A sight unique to now.
"Your Majesty, Prince Adalbert of the German Empire and the German delegation seek audience."
"Let them enter."
The eunuch announced; permission granted from within.
Joseon's 26th king and the Korean Empire's first emperor, Gojong, awaited us.