Chapter 38
**CHAPTER TITLE: Sprouting and Growth (4)**
I was nervous.
Yi I, the genius of Joseon, would absorb one piece of information and then immediately grasp everything beyond it, spotting every gap to ask questions. Yet I could not show fear.
‘There is my pride.’
A king could not quail before his ministers.
“Tell me. What are you curious about?”
“Building a smelter here to produce iron and a shipyard to make ships from that iron does not seem like a good plan, Your Majesty.”
‘Tsk⋯! What was I thinking?’
I relaxed my tension, lifted the cup, and extended it forward. Since I now understood his intent, Yi I also cautiously offered his cup and clinked it with a deliberate ring.
I downed the cup in one swallow and spoke.
“Drinking alone is one thing, but sharing the meaning by clinking cups is far better, is it not?”
“Indeed, Your Majesty.”
“Yet the world does not work that way. It seems determined to break this cup⋯.”
“On account of the Japanese barbarians, perhaps?”
After the Eomyo Waibyeong, we severed all diplomatic ties and trade with Japan. Nevertheless, reports kept arriving of Japanese pirates appearing along the coasts of Jeolla and Gyeongsang provinces.
“Correct. They plunder and slaughter our people. So I have decided to sweep them away. However! At present I lack the strength to carry out that resolve.”
“I am overwhelmed, Your Majesty.”
“Your fault is not that; do not speak such words. Instead, you must help me.”
“As you command, I shall devote my utmost.”
“Gratitude. Yet do not strain yourself. You must remain healthy if you are to aid me.”
“I understand. But what is the matter?”
I pointed south again.
“The reason we intend to build the smelter there is because of the ‘Haetan.’”
“If by Haetan you mean the firm, grayish ‘Gotan,’ the hard coal known as coke to the Westerners?”
We crush coal to make coke, yet some call the black, bony variety Gotan. Dry bituminous coal in sunlight and the moisture evaporates, leaving a tough, porous coal like bone. We call such coal Gotan.
“Precisely. The Westerners call it coke, but Joseon cannot obtain it. So I conducted inquiries and discovered that the Liaodong region is full of it.”
“Ah⋯, you chose this place because of transport?”
“Correct.”
‘It’s convenient, after all.’
The conversation with Yi I, who grasped my words instantly, was pleasant. It was like playing Twenty Questions.
“However, the site lies under Ming rule, so open mining is impossible.”
“Ah, now I understand.”
“What do you mean?”
“You wished to know why I was urgently producing salt. Have you any plan to employ the Jurchens?”
—Thud!
I slapped my thigh and laughed heartily.
“Precisely that!”
Yi I had known. A gejang was simply ‘geori’—the sound of crabs.
“So by simply setting it aside we will obtain salt within a year. We will hurry its production.”
“Will you trade that salt with the Jurchens?”
“Correct. In exchange for supplying bituminous coal to produce Gotan. How is that, my plan?”
“It is an excellent plan, Your Majesty. Yet I have concerns.”
“What are they?”
“The Jurchens are no easy opponents. Should we offer them salt, their strength will grow. And if their strength grows, I fear what will follow.”
“You fear they might attack us?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“That too has been accounted for.”
“I wish to know the plan.”
I smiled wryly and emptied the cup.
“Let us proceed. I have something to show you.”
* * *
Ten days earlier.
A day of heavy rain.
I examined the map and laid out the plan.
‘Two routes. Both difficult.’
The map was prepared by Shin Rip and the surveyors who had accompanied him along the Yusu and lower Yoho rivers.
It was serviceable.
It bore modern markings and detailed notations for locations, routes, and surrounding conditions.
At present Yusu was utterly uninhabited.
A vast expanse of black coal and rust-red iron ore.
Shenyang—the future capital of the Qing—was no different.
The Hun River, named for the mud it carries, had once been swampy. Access was impossible except in frozen winters.
Considering that, I devised two plans.
The first was to haul the bituminous coal from Yusu down the Hun River on rafts. Despite the rapids, it would reach the Bohai Sea in five to eight days at most. The constant swamps meant few people, so discovery would be rare.
The second was overland from Uiju through Shenyang to Yusu. More than three hundred kilometers of mountain paths, yet the Joseon “Gwahama” horses—sturdy despite their small size, tireless, and sure-footed—would manage.
Yet there was a problem.
‘This is the Jurchen homeland. How?’
Moreover, two hundred and seventy kilometers northeast lay the Iron Ridge Garrison under the command of Ming general Li Chengliang.
Without mining rights, both options were impossible.
Discovery could spark a major conflict.
‘Even with rights it might be hard⋯.’
After Sejo and Seongjong’s campaigns against the Jurchens, relations were strained. They might be raided.
I summoned Minister of Rites Lee Tak to discuss the matter. He had passed through the region recently as a Ming envoy and, as diplomatic overseer, knew far more about the Jurchens than other ministers.
Yet his words came as a surprise.
“Your Majesty. The area you mentioned is a forbidden zone into which unauthorized Jurchens cannot enter.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Unlike Joseon, Ming fears the Jurchens. There is a proverb: ‘If ten thousand Jurchen horsemen gather, the world cannot withstand them.’”
“Meaning ten thousand Jurchen cavalry could overwhelm the world?”
“Precisely. To prevent that, the Ming constructed the willow-hedge barrier—known as the Yujobyon—and barred Jurchens from crossing within it. The area you mentioned lies inside.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. It is absolute fact.”
Only now did I understand.
The cradle of the Yoho civilization, which would later become one of China’s greatest grain-producing regions, had lain abandoned for so long.
Although the Yoho and Hun rivers were swampy, with enough effort they could be turned into vast farmlands. Where rapids met, small canals could drain the standing water quickly.
Yet serious development came only in the late nineteenth century.
Ruled by the Ming and later the Qing, the region had become a forbidden zone. Under the Ming, unauthorized Jurchens; under the Qing, unauthorized Han.
No one dared enter. Little human life existed, which delayed development.
Treasure!
‘I should seize it first.’
If I did, I would need neither resources nor food worries.
‘No, I must hold back.’
Seeing my hesitation, he shook his head, perhaps thinking the judgment premature.
‘Why not first eliminate the Japanese?’
I could not fight the Ming with lingering threats behind me.
‘At present I have no strength.’
I cast aside the craving thoughts and returned to the main point.
‘Good news, yet⋯’
It might be bad.
Mining rights would be ideal, but without them a grave problem could arise.
‘War never begins with small things.’
It was not fear. Facing Li Chengliang’s Ming army would inevitably lead to conflict, and someone might die.
‘We fight to eat and live. We cannot force death upon them.’
To obtain certain information, I questioned Lee Tak once more. He knew the region well.
“Then the Ming army patrols the area regularly?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I believe it is the Iron Wall Garrison under General Li Chengliang that conducts regular patrols.”
“Damn!”
“I am overwhelmed, Your Majesty.”
“It was not directed at you; do not concern yourself.”
“I understand, Your Majesty.”
The prediction had come true.
‘How now?’
I stood at a difficult crossroads.
‘They will look down on us lightly⋯’
I had already informed the Ming eunuch that mining would begin. I could not be dismissed for idle talk.
But without rights, conflict with the Ming army was inevitable.
My grave expression made Lee Tak speak.
“Your Majesty, might I ask what troubles you? Even the smallest help would be welcome.”
I told him the truth. Lee Tak could be trusted.
“Your Majesty! The matter does not seem troubling.”
“Why so?”
“Though not the area itself, four to five thousand of our Joseon people live along the route—Haiju, Gaiju, Yoyang, and Seokmunreong.”
“What?”
I was startled by the unexpected words.
“Such records appear in the Piaohai Lu.”
The Piaohai Lu was a travelogue written by Choi Bu in 1488 during the reign of Seongjong. As a Jeju governor’s envoy, he heard of his father’s death and, while traveling home via Naenju, endured a typhoon. Through miraculous means he reached the Ming’s Linhaixian Youtou Outer Ocean and, after six months (one hundred thirty-six days) of drifting, returned to Joseon.
“I examined the book out of curiosity and confirmed that roughly four to five thousand Joseon-speakers live there. I also learned that Jurchens acculturated to Joseon dwell among them.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Not a single word is false.”
“Why have the others not heard?”
Lee Tak suddenly prostrated himself and knocked his head on the floor.
“Your Majesty! I have committed a capital crime!”
“What crime?”
“I knew and concealed the truth. That is why the others do not know. Your Majesty! Put me to death⋯!”
“Hah⋯.”
I sighed.
The suddenness bothered me, and that the trusted Lee Tak had hidden it troubled my heart. Yet I was curious. We did not quarrel over small matters, and Lee Tak—known for his integrity—had concealed something for good reason.
“Why did you hide it?”
“Because I discovered among them Joseon-runaway slaves.”
“Ah⋯!”
“Your Majesty! Put me to death⋯!”
While rain fell in sheets, I knelt beside Lee Tak on the floor of Man Chunjeon, weeping, and stroked his back.
“Never. You did well.”
“Your Majesty⋯!”
The sorrowful sound of his sobs pierced my heart.
I wished to abolish the slave system that oppressed people. Yet the time was not right, so I had delayed.
Resistance could be crushed, and resistance met with reward.
Some people viewed slaves as property. If I protected that property, all would be well.
But I could not.
It turned out the Joseon yangban society rested upon slaves.
Even successful civil-examination passers could not rely on government stipends alone; they had to fund their own journey and supplies.
Without slaves, they could do nothing alone.
Military-examination passers suffered more. They had to buy horses, weapons, and equipment themselves.
This was not a matter of wealth.
A poor yangban who passed could at least borrow money.
But the issue was farming.
Without farming slaves, the family’s fields had to be rented, reducing income.
Thus they sought to bribe their way into the capital.
Once there, officials were easier to flatter.
‘A complete mess.’
I could not immediately raise my ministers’ salaries to match reality. The royal treasury was growing, but tax revenue was not.
So I spoke to my younger brother, who was preparing the Joseon Bank.
Anyone engaging in agriculture, frontier defense, or large commerce could obtain cheap loans.
The goal was to open commercial and capital paths to all people.
‘Then tax revenue would rise.’
Yet with conditions.
No slaves allowed.
I would even give them slaves if they wished.
Fast thinkers sold their slaves and took the money.
A young king had warned that mishandling government slaves invited severe punishment. Lee Tak had sensed something amiss.
Yet he had stayed silent for runaway slaves.
Emotion surged.
‘I must eliminate Choi Bu and his runaway slaves first.’
I helped Lee Tak to his feet and cried out loudly.
“Yangbo!”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Go fetch the wine table! There is a guest of distinction; we must toast.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
That day, after the rain, was the first time I drank.
* * *
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