The Planned District and the Firepower Military Academy (Part 2)
King Yi Yeon had decided to establish industrial complexes outside Hanyang’s walls in the cities and countryside. He summoned the chief administrator of the Hanyang Prefecture, Park Sun, to him.
The Hanyang Prefecture Chief Administrator oversaw every aspect of the capital—administration, judiciary, military authority, and public order. As a fourth-rank official equal to the Minister of Rites, he was not someone to be overlooked. Yi Yeon had called him in precisely to hear his thoughts on building the Gongdan.
“Your Majesty, I pay my respects.”
“You’ve come all this way. It’s been a great bother.”
“No bother at all, Your Majesty.”
Once Park Sun took his seat, Yi Yeon studied him closely. *This is the same man who never flinched even when a blade was pressed to his throat. He truly is that capable.*
The stories about Park Sun—how he had corrected the posthumous title his late king intended to bestow upon him, only to face death itself yet laugh it off—still circulated among the court. *Even the royal relatives and ministers treated him like a playground. He’ll handle the Gongdan without a second thought.*
Park Sun sat there calmly, as though he had no idea why he had been summoned.
Yi Yeon offered him a cup of jasmine tea. After Park Sun took a sip and set it down, the king got straight to the point.
“The reason I called you is simple. I’ve heard that people are flooding into Hanyang in record numbers. I plan to build commercial districts and residential zones outside the walls—vast marketplaces and housing blocks scattered throughout the capital—to relocate the overflow. What do you think?”
Park Sun answered immediately, as if he had been waiting for the question.
“Your Majesty, I was about to bring this very matter to you. But what you have said far surpasses my own limited understanding.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Every year the Hanyang River floods, so I have been thinking of first repairing the Cheonggyecheon, straightening and dividing it into sections with straight roads and grid layouts. One section at a time, we could resolve the problem step by step.”
“Hmmm…”
Yi Yeon had initially considered the same approach. It was simple, quick, immediate. But if the influx continued without pause, the crisis would only grow worse. When people were crammed into limited space, mental strain would surely follow. That was why he had changed his mind.
“That is a good idea, but it is only a temporary fix.”
“That is exactly why I hesitated as well. Yet upon hearing Your Majesty’s words, they seem perfectly reasonable. If you would be so kind as to explain them in detail, Your Majesty, this ignorant subject would be most grateful.”
The reply was surprising. Everyone in the court had always said he was overly rigid and narrow-minded.
“Very well. Listen carefully, and tell me your opinion.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Yi Yeon pointed to the map of Hanyang Prefecture he had hung on the wall. The five departments and fifty-two wards were clearly marked.
“I plan to select one ward from each of the four cardinal directions, build a central square in the middle, divide the area into districts around it, and separate work zones from residential zones. What do you think?”
“Must the work and residential zones truly be separated?”
“When people live mixed together as they do now, their quality of life will inevitably suffer. That is why I intend to separate them.”
“Ah…”
Park Sun exhaled in admiration. At state council meetings he had seen kings who knew everything, yet this was something entirely new. This time, too. The king had cut straight to the heart of the matter without the slightest hint of worldly scheming. Yi Yeon had prepared a long speech in his mind, only to be met with a completely different plan and a warning of deeper problems. The novelty of it made him want to hear every detail.
Yet the king had spoken of “quality of life”—a phrase that touched the very lives of the people. It was unexpected, even from a king, but Park Sun had understood at once. Even in Bukchon alone, the market and residences were not separated. *He truly is the sage they say. He thinks of everything.*
Park Sun bowed deeply to the king in respect, then spent a long time studying the map. Even though the symbols had been newly introduced, the map was easier to read than ever. After muttering to himself about dozens of wards, he looked up.
“Your Majesty, it is presumptuous of me to speak thus, but four divisions seem far too few.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. We will issue national bonds to fund the project, will we not?”
“That is my intention.”
“Then, rather than adhering strictly to the four departments, I suggest we expand to eight: Yongsan, Dumoh, Inchang, Sungshin, Sangpyeong, Yeonhee, Bansom, and Seogang wards. Finding flat land for a large square will inevitably cause some areas to overlap. Therefore, I believe the divisions in the four departments should also be adjusted.”
“Hmmm…”
Yi Yeon examined the locations Park Sun had named. Each was gently sloping and perfectly flat—land that could be used immediately. *Only recently appointed prefect, and he already knows everything. That’s why he speaks so boldly.*
The anecdote about the old schoolmaster who had once told Park Sun, “How dare I be your teacher?” was still told with admiration among the ministers. Yi Yeon had dismissed Park Sun’s scholarly writings because his mind was too fixed in orthodoxy. Yet the man handled real work flawlessly. The ministers called him a genius, and if his advice proved sound, the king had planned to revise his plans accordingly. But agreement had already been reached, so it was best to conclude the matter here.
*It would do no good to waste time conversing with someone like Yi I, who could never be satisfied with a single explanation.*
“Then take this map and draw up a detailed plan for the Gongdan. Make all eight sites the same scale.”
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
“I entrust this to you.”
“It is my honor, Your Majesty, to have been allowed such a conversation with you.”
Park Sun rose, bowed deeply, bowed once more, and took his leave with the map under his arm.
Yi Yeon watched his back until the man disappeared from view, then muttered, *I need to nurture people like him.*
* * *
The next day Yi Yeon went to the Medicine Bureau.
After receiving the usual greeting, he noticed something he had not seen before and asked about the man who had been absent.
“Your Majesty, I pay my respects.”
“Good. You’ve worked hard.”
Yi Yeon knew Heo Jun was a year younger than his own elder brother, but the boy looked far older. He spoke more freely with him than with others.
“No trouble at all, Your Majesty. Thanks to you, I have learned of an entirely new world.”
“Was it enjoyable?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The world is vast and truly wondrous.”
Heo Jun still looked awestruck, his eyes shining with lingering wonder.
“Tell me, how is it progressing?”
“We have cultured and incubated over twenty thousand eggs so far.”
“Still not enough?”
“Enough to vaccinate everyone in the Hanyang area.”
Yi Yeon calculated that one egg containing the bacteria could vaccinate about ten people. Twenty thousand eggs would therefore be enough for two hundred thousand doses.
*How can we distribute them quickly?* Even switching from pus to eggs would not make the job easy.
He wandered through the Medicine Bureau, pondering how best to implement the inoculation protocol, while Heo Jun chattered endlessly beside him.
“Your Majesty, how did you manage to build such facilities? When I first saw them I nearly fainted from shock. I am truly grateful that you have given me this place to work in. Yet there is one thing I must ask…”
Yi Yeon felt his ears burning, but he said nothing. He simply nodded and kept walking. Heo Jun, like Yi I, could not bear to hold back his questions, so he had ordered a new building next to the Medicine Bureau when he erected the Physician’s Bureau.
He could not yet bring Udu-gyun here, but aspirin and sulfanilamide, the antipyretic and antibacterial drugs, needed to be ready quickly. He had urged haste for that reason.
*With those drugs, we can multiply the population far faster.*
Just because food had been solved did not mean the crisis was over. People still died from even minor infections.
They would therefore produce and supply aspirin and sulfanilamide first, then develop a vaccine from the dried corpses of tetanus bacteria. With that, they had ordered the Medicine Bureau built at once with enormous funds.
The hastily designed building looked anything but magnificent. It had been erected on flat ground facing south and sloped gently downward, so it resembled a right-angled triangle when viewed from the side. Yet, unlike its appearance, it was functionally flawless.
A massive sewage-treatment plant had been built where the Han River flowed, with the land dug wide and deep and then lined with reinforced cement. Tiles had been laid on top. Frogs were already hopping and croaking there. The three-story main building had a floor of sand, a foundation of broken granite, and walls finished with reinforced cement. Strong pine pillars rose up, walls were built of fired clay bricks, and the floor and roof were sealed with waterproof, rot-resistant camphor wood. It looked solid enough to last forever.
What was more, small glass windows had been densely placed in the sloped roof. Even on cloudy days one could see, and on bright moonlight nights there was light without lamps.
On the first floor, skilled craftsmen were carefully poking tiny holes in eggs and inserting the cultured Udu-gyun bacteria under the careful scrutiny of large magnifying lenses.
Yi Yeon climbed to the second-floor laboratory to avoid disturbing them.
The moment he entered, Heo Jun asked eagerly, “Your Majesty, may I ask what these instruments are?”
The boy’s eyes were full of questions, making Yi Yeon hesitate. Only after sweeping the entire room did he speak.
“You have done well.”
He had seen countless machines in his past life, yet this collection was arranged neatly and efficiently.
Yi Yeon walked to the wide tiled table in the center of the room and pointed at a row of glass jars.
“What is this? And what is it used for?”
“It looks like glass containers, Your Majesty. I do not know their precise name or purpose.”
*He still cannot grasp the concept.*
Yi Yeon had not visited the bureau since he learned it was being built because he had been too busy. He had therefore never learned what the installed instruments were for. That was why the skilled artisans of the Six Departments had left their precious microscope lying untouched in one corner.
* * *
Note: Research using cultured chicken eggs for vaccine development was initiated in the 1920s by the American couple Goodpasture and Woodruff and was actually developed and used in the 1930s. Modern cell-culture techniques allow a single egg to produce vaccines capable of vaccinating three to four people, while influenza vaccines from a single egg can serve up to dozens of people—sometimes as many as 150. In contrast, the traditional method of applying Udu-gyun eggs directly to open wounds on the shoulder allows only about ten people per egg.