Innovation and Revolution (12)
Oseong-ah! What are you doing? Hurry up and come over!
Hey! Come on, Dad!
Oseong’s father shook his head in that exasperating way of his, like he was saying the boy was hopeless, and addressed the shopkeeper. “I’m sorry, elder sir. My sons are still so young and lacking in sense.”
It’s fine. They’re young; they’ll grow into it. Besides, you haven’t paid anything yet—how could it break?
That’s true, but… I haven’t given you any money yet. What if it breaks?
What if? It won’t break. You’re buying a wheelbarrow made of iron—steel, actually. It’s indestructible. You’re buying it to save money, right?
Looking at the brand-new wheelbarrow, Oseong’s father made up his mind on the spot. If he had this, he could take the eldest and the second child to different construction sites. But the price was outrageous. They claimed it had rubber wheels and sturdy steel pipes, and not a single penny off. “But if the big one is Oseong, and the kids riding in it are Yuseong and Chilseong?”
How did you know?
The eldest and second said they were Ilseong and Iseong. So you’re telling me they’re Yuseong and Chilseong?
Yes, sir. I did say that.
I’m jealous. Seven sons!
Lucky me, I suppose. The kids’ mother would be furious if she heard. So the third and fourth are signing up for the Guard?
Yes, sir. The third, Samseong, wants to join the Firepower Army, and the fourth, Saseong, wants to be a police officer. Oseong’s father said it proudly, and the shopkeeper clapped his hands in approval. “That’s good. That’s wonderful. You’ll be sending them off with the money you earn, and you’ll even buy that expensive wheelbarrow.”
It’s true, but money’s tight. Could you cut me a little off?
I’m sorry, but this place sells at the listed prices. However, I’ll throw in a shovel for free. Thank you, sir. But how much does it take to run a place like this?
You want to open a shop?
Of course I do. I’m getting older.
What? You’re getting old? What does that make me?
The shopkeeper straightened up. Oseong’s father realized he’d slipped and grinned, trying to smooth it over. “What do you mean? You’ll be my boss, sir.”
Hah. Really? Come on, don’t you want to run a business with me? With your age and experience, you’d be good to customers. Wouldn’t you?
Is that true?
Of course it is. Listen. I’m thinking of starting a rental business. Renting out equipment for a fee. What kind of rental?
Hah! You’re doing this because you can’t sell enough, right?
Exactly. A shovel costs fifty won, a wheelbarrow a thousand. Who would buy that?
I would!
Suddenly Oseong jumped in, and both the shopkeeper and his father turned to him at once. “Why?”
Where are you going to use it?
To carry my brothers on it, like this. What?
Hold on! You want to carry people?
The shopkeeper’s eyes lit up with interest, while Oseong’s father looked scandalized. “Yes, grandfather. People riding instead of sand or cement—that would be cleaner and better.”
You’re right! That’s much better!
Word spread like wildfire. The planned industrial complexes linked by roads—called Simanto roads instead of new highways—had been built every ten ri, or four kilometers, around Hanyang. The residents of the old city took enormous pride in them. But even so, no carts had ever come through. There was nowhere to make them. Then suddenly, carts appeared. Real horse-drawn carts. And rickshaws pulled by humans. Modified wheelbarrows. Yeon heard the news and summoned his second brother. “The company you loaned money to, right?”
Yes, Your Highness. I loaned and invested. What did you see?
Cho-hui wanted to ride, so it looked promising. Cho-hui?
Yes, Your Highness. She was there when I heard. Because of the banknote design issue, the second brother took her to and from the bank every day. “The bank is running. That usually means a good idea.”
Cho-hui sat inside a tiny carriage and looked painfully bored, but she never showed it. Compared to Changdeokgung, the bank was far more interesting. While that was happening, people who wanted to start a transport business with horse-drawn carts and rickshaws appeared. “Since the roads are only Simanto roads, it’s easy.”
It looked like an obvious money-maker. But the bank’s loan officers were all against it. A cart cost eight thousand won, a rickshaw two thousand, with fares of one won and two won respectively. A carriage pulled by two horses could carry ten people, so one trip earned ten won. Two trips a day meant twenty won a day. Even running every day for a year wouldn’t recover the capital in less than two years. They hadn’t even considered passengers getting on and off. That was why the officers were negative. But someone saw it differently. “Hmm… Cho-hui suggested switching to one-way round trips instead of full cycles.”
Yes, Your Highness. With full cycles it’s only two runs a day, but round trips can do ten or more. Of course, we’d need many more carriages. So you loaned ten times more than applied?
Yes, Your Highness. Even then it wasn’t enough, so Cho-hui and I invested half. Yeon looked at the carriage Cho-hui had drawn and smirked. A fairy-tale carriage. He also studied her operating plan. “How did she think of that?”
It seemed better to make the second brother a loan officer than appoint Cho-hui as bank president. To go from Yongsan to Sangpyeong in the north, you had to go all the way around. Now, with the new system, you could go through South Gate or East Gate and switch to a direct route. “She wove a perfect spider web.”
Her plan looked complicated but was actually simple: massively increase carriages and restrict them to the designated round-trip segments. “They’re paying two fares but say they’re happy because it’s so much faster?”
Yes, Your Highness. He says we can recover capital and still profit in a year. Well done, brother. Tell every branch. Don’t just check applications—tell them if there’s a better plan. I’m already doing it. Really?
Yes, Your Highness. The branches report more applicants than usual. Good. Transport was already a problem, and now it’s exploding. While highways stretched everywhere, many merchants still carried loads on their shoulders. Merchants with enough capital used horse-drawn carts. Then the rumor spread that cart transport from Hanyang was making money. Suddenly, more cart makers and transporters appeared. “Is this all because of the rubber tires?”
Yeon had planned to start producing rubber shoes from Russian dandelions. Most people still wore straw shoes, and rubber was too scarce. So he decided to coat the noisy wheelbarrow wheels instead. He’d had enough of the tires on Ganghwado Island. These were easier to make—mold a shape, harden it—and demand was still high. The new rubber would fit into wheels shaped like split steel pipes. Bearings on the axles too. It would carry cement, sand, even iron. He would sell the molds so people could attach what they needed. Lower the price and let them customize. Before long, every shape imaginable appeared. Most were carts, but he’d made special carriages and rickshaws. Yeon announced the plan widely. It would make the story of the Oseong family—the daily wage earners who suddenly became millionaires—exciting enough to spread. He also set up a patent office and began patent procedures: protect the first clever idea, publicize it, benefit the world. * * * October 15, 1569 (Lunar). Yeon went to the Hwaryeok Military Academy with Jeong Yeol. Vice Principal Kim Myeong-won had said the scholars’ morale was too dry and asked him to recommend someone—Ki Dae-seung had recommended Jeong. Young and formidable, Jeong was excellent. He spoke his mind boldly, even about wild ideas. “Your Highness, this is a wonderful place.” “Really?” “Yes, Your Highness. Look at it—sun rises late in the morning, sets early at night. What better place to spend a lifetime?” “You said that?” “How could you know? Who else would?” “Your Highness is too kind.” Yeon laughed loudly and led the way to the parade ground. As they walked he warned Jeong. “Whatever else, if you start organizing factions or show any sign, stop it immediately.” “Like banning political factions?” “Exactly. The Firepower Army isn’t just soldiers guarding the nation. We’re the front line for expanding its borders. We must help each other. Understand?” “Yes, Your Highness. People are living here—jealousy, ambition, rivalry will stir. But I will unite them.” “You will not make them clash.” “How could I? I have no desire to be a traitor.” “Really?” “Yes, Your Highness.” “That’s a pity. I could have sent you immediately.” “Your Highness! Spare your loyal servant!” The academy, after a long time, buzzed with energy, like Jeong’s mouth. When Yeon entered the parade ground it was still noisy. Then silence. Everyone knelt at once and saluted. “We greet Headmaster Your Highness.” Yeon smirked and climbed the platform. Jeong Yeol stepped forward and shouted, “Loyalty!” The scholars rose in unison. “Loyalty!” Yeon placed a hand on his chest and answered lightly. “Welcome, scholars…” But nothing more came to mind. Their expressions were too cautious. “Ah… that’s why I was asked.” Now he understood Kim Myeong-won’s plea. “Your Highness, there seems to be dissatisfaction. It is… profound.” “What kind?” “Deep anger at the decision. You should see for yourself.” Yeon could read the anger in their eyes. It was not simple passion. He asked, “Do you want to fight?” “Loyalty!” “Why?” No one spoke. They couldn’t. The king had not given permission. So Yeon spoke for them. “Revenge?” “Loyalty!” “Teach them a lesson?” “Loyalty!” “I understand your wish. So wait. Wait for the warm spring days.” “Understood?” “Loyalty!” * * *