The Seed of Abundance (12)
Before this negotiation, the reason Yi Yeon had warned Sim Tong-won and left behind a letter was simple: to secure oil and coke. He believed the Left State Councillor would negotiate flawlessly with the Ming envoys. After all, his greed for wealth had always been the greatest he had ever seen. That was why the phrase “don’t be tempted by small gains, aim for the grand prize” had been added to the letter too. If greed blinded him and the talks dragged on too long, Yi Yeon might lose everything he wanted.
A few days earlier, Yi Yeon had received a report from Hongdam, the Head of the Ministry of Finance, and muttered under his breath. “Damn it! Now that food is sorted, the real problem is clothing.” Food was not yet completely solved, but worry could finally be set aside. It was not because he trusted the exponentially growing livestock farms. Merchants who had returned with the Ming envoys had brought a variety of crops Heo Jun had supplied.
Sitting in the Jeongeungjeong pavilion at Changdeokgung, Yi Yeon could barely hide his delight as he examined the seeds and plants laid out before him. Potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, peanuts, chilies, tomatoes, sunflowers, and mugwort—along with countless crops he had never seen before—filled his heart with joy. “Among them was coffee beans,” he thought, though he resisted grinding them to savor the deep aroma. He could not risk tasting them; they were whole beans, not roasted. If these crops were cultivated properly, famine would become a distant memory.
Yet he had also heard from Hongdam that the people of Jeolla and Gyeongsang provinces were struggling to pay their cotton cloth taxes. The price had risen several times over. When he asked for the reason, Hongdam replied, “Your Majesty, the increase in population has expanded the farmland, but cotton fields have shrunk because of it.” The obvious solution was to expand the cotton fields again, but that was no longer feasible. The population would only grow larger.
Anticipating this, Yi Yeon had instructed the Chief of the Agricultural Bureau to build irrigation ponds and rice paddies on Ganghwado Island. He had recalled that, when rice varieties with small stature, thick grains, and high yield were grown separately, production soared. He also knew that such breeding should be done in isolated locations, making Ganghwado perfect. The island was far from the mainland and large enough to accommodate every new crop the Ming had brought.
Food was proceeding according to plan, but clothing remained a puzzle. “What should I do…?” he had once considered producing nylon, acrylic, and rayon from coal gas, yet nothing had been executed. The era demanded focus and restraint, so building a coal gasification plant had not even made the agenda. “If we only had electricity, this would be child’s play…” Electricity was the cheat code of chemistry—accelerating reactions, generating extreme pressure and heat, yielding pure substances in abundance, and extracting metals like aluminum one after another. With electricity, iron ore could be melted on the spot, and the resulting iron could be used to build coal gasification facilities and produce synthetic fibers. But obtaining enough electricity to make that possible was nearly impossible.
“Right now, the best I can do is build batteries for plating or extract hydrogen or oxygen,” Yi Yeon had thought. A dam could produce hydropower, but the Han River still had no bridges. Just then, a message arrived from the Chief of the Military Bureau. The blast furnace had been completed, and the bellows powered by river water were functioning well. “At last, I can extract iron in volume,” Yi Yeon had rejoiced—only for reality to strike again. The furnace was being operated with charcoal instead of coke, and efficiency was shockingly low. “Did I push too hard?” The new furnace stood fifteen meters tall. That height should have sufficed; after all, he had once taught science in junior high and knew that the first furnace at Pohang had reached ninety meters. But the iron ore mixed with charcoal crumbled before it could be stacked high. “Only about one-fifth the expected yield,” the report had stated. Still, that was vastly superior to traditional methods. Yet it was not enough. “When can I build ships? When can I lay bridges?” He could not guess. “If I am not too late, I must start building steam engines this year…” Nodular cast iron could be poured into engine blocks like clay, and its strength, ductility, and durability made it ideal. Production was simple and low-risk. Even in the twenty-first century, large diesel engine blocks used nodular cast iron. But the foundation—pig iron output—was now the bottleneck. “Damn it! I still need to make farm tools…” To create an abundant world, iron had to be the seed. Reliable, long-lasting farm implements were essential if crop yields were to rise, so the furnace construction had received all his attention. And now another problem had surfaced. He had never imagined coke would trip him up. “The real seed was something else all along.” Only now did he understand. The reason the north was growing increasingly impoverished was pointless nuclear development that invited international sanctions, blocked coke imports, crippled iron production, and sparked crises across every industry.
Yi Yeon already knew that the north possessed coking coal. Most of it was bituminous, however, and the true coking coal—used for metallurgical coke—existed only in small quantities in Hamgyeongbuk-do. That was not enough. But there was a far greater obstacle. “How was I supposed to know where it was?” Sending prospectors to search for it had seemed pointless. If it lay underground, discovery was impossible. Yet he could not simply abandon the idea. After careful thought, he decided to send them to Fushun near Shenyang, the site of the Battle of Sarhū, where bituminous coal, lignite, and coking coal lay scattered across the surface like treasure. “It was one of China’s largest coal mines even in the twenty-first century,” he remembered. Still, confirmation was necessary. So Yi Yeon ordered Shin Rip to lead the prospectors there. He gave the legendary commander nine horses engraved with seals. He also commanded him to investigate the lower reaches of the Yalu River, whose mouth was a marsh and which, he had been told, held one of China’s three major oil fields and might contain surface deposits. Shin Rip, receiving his first royal command and leaving Hanyang for the first time, moved like a winged tiger—swift and relentless. The prospectors he sent back must have suffered, for their lips were raw from shouting. And he returned with news before long. “Your Majesty! Is this what you spoke of?” “Yes, exactly that. How is it?” “It forms cliffs like black silk. And something like asphalt also flows along the river.” Yi Yeon could not suppress the surge of desire upon seeing the gleaming black coking coal and sticky crude oil. “If I had this, I could do whatever I wanted…” He turned the matter over in his mind, seeking a path free of conflict with Ming China. Thanks to the brain of the historical Seonjo, the greatest schemer of his time, the plan came to him before the Ming envoys departed. “There is no choice. I must give something up.” The current Ming emperor was said to be consumed by lust. “Under such circumstances, corruption would be rampant. This could be used.” So Yi Yeon decided to present the envoys with regular shipments of the precious glass mirrors he could sell for huge sums. “Bribery is not about one gift, but steady, constant ones.” In his previous life, he had been forced to give them during the construction of his own kingdom in the Mediterranean, but this time he would plan and execute the gift. One more obstacle remained. “What about Li Chengliang, the Commander of Liaodong?” He expected internal Ming problems to resolve themselves if the mirrors were given regularly, but Li Chengliang held military authority and remained loyal to the emperor. “I need mining rights; they need gold and silver. I could simply offer them…” He could not be certain, but he would try. “If not, I will have no choice but to extract it secretly. Even if discovered, it would not cause a major problem.” After all, they would have to handle the mirrors on their own if they wanted the annual fortune. * * *
After completing the negotiations, Yi Yeon met Sim Tong-won. “You finished it quicker than expected.” “It seems the strategy Your Majesty provided worked.” “Really?” “Yes, Your Majesty.” “Yet your expression does not seem pleased.” “I am honored, Your Majesty.” Had the letter’s instructions been followed, Sim Tong-won would have had reason to look satisfied. Yet he did not. “Was there something omitted?” “No, Your Majesty. However, I do have concerns.” Having been assured the negotiation had no gaps, Yi Yeon asked at once. He had anticipated this. “Are you speaking of Li Chengliang?” “No, Your Majesty.” Yi Yeon was startled. “Then what is it?” “I speak with shame, but the eunuch Yao Chen said he would continue the project even if Li Chengliang opposed it. I cannot believe him.” “What do you mean?” “Even without the already provided saltpeter and mirrors, he could live in luxury until death. Therefore, I fear he will betray us.” “…” It was possible. Glass mirrors were priceless artifacts. “I never thought of that.” Discomfort surged the moment the plan diverged from expectation. An absurd fear that war with Ming China might erupt. “That cannot happen!” The mirrors given to the emperor had been specially made—large ones joined like a triptych in three horizontal and vertical panels. The worry deepened. If relations remained good, they would be praised, but if the envoys were caught, the Ming might invade to obtain them. Yi Yeon clenched his teeth and tried to quell the anxiety. It was not easy; he bit his lip until blood appeared. Only then did his heart settle a little. “Damnable willpower!” Unlike his previous life, his emotions still fluctuated easily. He attributed the cause to Seonjo’s brain. “Or perhaps a penalty?” The absurdity of the thought only deepened when he realized he had become Seonjo. So he did everything he could to build his courage: sparring with Shin Rip, charging on horseback while shooting arrows, and performing chemical experiments before the Chief of the Military Bureau. He would not allow himself to fail like Seonjo, not if he had to die for it. “Even so, the anxiety remains… Damn it!” Annoyed, he licked the blood from his lip and asked, “What if, in my place, Yao Chen had shown me such behavior?” Sim Tong-won, seeing the blood on the king’s lip, looked startled and spoke cautiously. “If I were Your Majesty, I would eat it and rinse my mouth.” Sim Tong-won spoke his true feelings without reservation. “Would the eunuchs not report this to the emperor?” “Why would they? It would be a loss to them…” Sim Tong-won immediately shut his mouth and lowered his head. He had shown both fear and his inner thoughts, yet the words had been too self-serving; Yi Yeon understood it as a mistake. Yi Yeon exhaled, and the remaining unease vanished. “What foolish worry.” Upon second thought, he might have done the same. With the anxiety gone, a new plan emerged. “Lord Minister, if we obtain what we want in Liaodong without receiving mining rights, what would happen?” “If discovered, it would cause a serious problem.” “Would the envoys prevent it?” “What?! Since this has become unavoidable, I will simply proceed. Therefore, at the moment the envoys depart, kindly inform them of the fact.” “Ah…” Sim Tong-won clapped his hands in delight. “Your Majesty, truly a brilliant strategy.” Seeing his subordinate smile, Yi Yeon grinned. “Where did you think you could run to, you bastard!” * * *
Johan River, also known as the Yalu River, marks the boundary between Liaodong and Joseon. South of it lies the Bohai Sea, also called the Yellow Sea in some contexts. This sea is said to hold vast reserves of oil, so enormous it is called the “Second Middle East.” Recent discoveries continue to be reported.