Rallying the Country with the Power of Faith, Part 2
Woljeongsa, not far from Guryong Waterfall, was a temple with nothing in it but buckwheat noodles.
Cha Un-hong slurped them down and, as if granting a favor, nodded approvingly. “I’ve had naengmyeon in Dongrae, and this is no worse. I never understood why those scholar-officials go on about their refined tastes when they’ve no sense for true elegance and then blame everyone but themselves for it.”
The monk, who had introduced himself as Min-yeol, thanked her with a genial smile. “Hoho. I’m obliged. Truth be told, this is a temple full of nothing but ddaengchu, and we don’t even have a proper Buddha statue.”
“It’s sincerity that matters, not statues. This hermitage is spotless and well kept. For a ddaengchu, that earlier spirit in you seemed remarkably bold. I suppose that’s the discipline of the monk-soldiers who rose in times of national crisis.”
“A woman’s mind can be quite scholarly.”
Cha Un-hong spat out her noodles and coughed. Taesu studied Min-yeol with a faintly guarded expression.
“How did you know?”
“Let’s call it intuitive sight.”
Taesu quickly took in Min-yeol’s surroundings.
But there wasn’t so much as a monk’s staff anywhere that looked capable of crushing evil spirits.
Taesu asked the goblin inside him, ‘Is he one of your kind?’
[Doesn’t seem like it. Didn’t he call himself a ddaengchu with his own mouth? He must have learned it from associating with women all the time.]
‘So he’s like you.’
[You bastard! That’s not what I mean. I said ddaengchu, didn’t I? That means he’s not in the middle of cultivation!]
Taesu tilted his head slightly. So it wasn’t merely a monk’s slur.
* * *
The word ddaengchu is said to have come from dangchwi, the outlaw monastic bands.
Dangchwi were, in a sense, Joseon’s Buddhist version of the Bobusang.
Not in the sense of trade, but in the sense of organized thugs.
In truth, Joseon’s anti-Buddhist policies may have increased the number of monks even more than in Goryeo.
When you drive monks out of society as outsiders, it’s only natural that outsiders gather there.
Buddhism, having been cast out of the social safety net, was now also beyond the reach of surveillance. Much like the Bobusang.
Orphans, beggars, vagrants, and criminals all rushed to shave their heads.
The largest share, however, were the poor who could no longer endure the brutal taxes and corvée labor and fled the world of the secular.
Telling such people to live austerely, read sutras, and pursue enlightenment was a cruel joke. Even Shakyamuni Buddha, who could tame rocks and even mad elephants and, in any case, tame anything, could not tame Devadatta.
The daily life of the dangchwi usually went like this.
First came the matter of eating, which was almost entirely takbal—begging alms.
“Like a thirsty deer! Searching for water!”
“What’s with the monk making such a racket first thing in the morning?”
“My apologies. This humble monk was once the ringleader of the bloodbath at the butcher quarter in front of Seonggyungwan, back in the reign of the previous king.”
“R-really? I did wonder about that scar on your head….”
“I’ve now received the king’s grace and been pardoned, and I’m trying to live straight. If you could spare even a handful of millet, I’d be grateful! Eh?”
“Our family has always had deep faith in Buddha. Child, go scoop out a bowlful from the grain chest in back.”
People can’t live on food alone.
“Oh dear. Judging by your face, ma’am, you’ve got the kind of fortune that prevents you from bearing sons.”
“What an insult! I’ve borne four sons with this body. If my husband had only tried a little harder, I’d have eight by now!”
“And there’s the great worry, isn’t there? This humble monk has cultivated the Way on Gyeryongsan and knows a secret method for producing sons, so if you’d let me take a quick look at the inner room….”
“Oh, what can I do? We’re hardly in a position to offer a proper fee. My husband’s gone all the way to the Imjin River to buy some Western virility medicine or something, and he won’t be back for days.”
“Greed is unbecoming in a monk. The finest of all donations is the donation of flesh, you know. Didn’t the Buddha himself feed others with his own body?”
“It seems you’re one of those rare and profoundly enlightened masters.”
After practicing this folk Buddhism—becoming one with the believers—the dangchwi would take their earnings and gather somewhere like a tavern.
With a tavern hostess tucked under one arm, they’d tear into a dog’s leg with the other. Jugs upon jugs of cloudy rice wine would vanish down their throats.
Then, after slamming the money they had worked so hard to beg onto the low table with theatrical flourish, they truly did look like masters who regarded worldly suffering as nothing more than straw.
Once any decent person muttered, “Ugh, those damn monks are at it again,” and edged away, their real meeting would begin.
“You know Kim Jin-sa beyond the mountain? Word is the bastard’s been hoarding a bit of money lately.”
“Of course he has. Tteok-soo by the stream and Gae-dong down below the mountain took on the tenant dues and taxes and starved to death.”
“Gae-dong’s wife got dragged off as a concubine instead of paying the debt, didn’t she? But Kim Jin-sa’s already over seventy.”
“So what if he’s just playing the role of a younger wife? That bastard likes beating people and tearing them apart while he enjoys himself.”
“What, then the corpse that was wrapped in rags and sneaked out the gate the other day was him?”
“That’s right. They said they had to change the money into ‘things easy to carry’ so they could bribe the officials and smooth it over.”
“When do we do it?”
“If we’re doing it, then tonight. The past is already gone, and the future hasn’t come yet—the truth of the Middle Agama Sutra. We live only for today.”
“You’re quite versed in scripture!”
And that night, Kim Jin-sa would be neatly offered as a living sacrifice, while every last scrap of his wealth was stripped away.
As with all so-called righteous bandits, they might sometimes rob decent houses because of misunderstanding or a sudden shortage of cash, and the merciful Buddha would forgive all of that. That western god was always going on about agape while cheerfully backing his own children’s slave trades and drug deals.
They didn’t always rob people directly, either.
There were plenty of bandit groups in Joseon.
Among the dangchwi alone, there were, broadly speaking, the “Geumgangsan faction” here and the “Jirisan faction” down south.
Given that Jirisan was every bit as popular a scenic destination for scholar-officials as Geumgangsan, it was easy to see why the dangchwi had come into being in the first place.
And there were bandit groups outside Buddhism as well.
Not the Joseon military, which was itself a bandit group in the Confucian tradition, but descendants of the Hwalbindang, heirs of Im Ggeok-jeong, that sort of thing. The river pirate Kim Su-on that the former Gyeonggang merchants had once associated with Taesu also belonged in this category.
Another thing the dangchwi and the Bobusang had in common was movement.
Like the Bobusang, the dangchwi used their status as people who could wander without arousing suspicion to link such people together.
If the secret police came after someone, they hid him; if a punitive expedition from the magistrate’s office was about to sweep through, they warned the others in advance so they could escape; and they shared the locations of good prey. Important work, all of it.
* * *
Still, if all they were doing was spending money on their little gangster games, there was no need to build such a nationwide criminal network. In fact, if they were careless, they’d only leave a trail for the authorities to follow.
So why?
Taesu knew their purpose very well.
Because he had much the same thought himself.
Whenever the chance came, he intended to flip the Joseon government upside down.
That was the dangchwi’s purpose.
Well, it was only natural.
[The state has practiced anti-Buddhist policies for over four hundred years. Did you think they wouldn’t bear a grudge? The rebels who read Jeonggamnok up on Gyeryongsan usually made deals with shamans, too.]
The Catholics were no different. Suppress them, and they don’t turn into loyal Confucian subjects. Hwang Sa-yeong and Kim Dae-geon simply summoned French warships instead.
Taesu looked around.
That point about the hermitage being “spotless” came back to him.
Cha Un-hong seemed not to have caught it either, but truly poor people show themselves first in their cleanliness.
You can swipe a card and dress yourself in expensive clothes or tea, but the room is usually a complete mess. There are all sorts of reasons for it, but to sum it up: the mind is poor.
This temple was clearly one point on the network of dangchwi who must have possessed considerable wealth.
But not everyone in this temple is a dangchwi.
Otherwise they would never have let the scholars drag them around.
It was a cell-like structure, with one or two people hiding here and there. That was probably why the young Min-yeol acted like the owner.
To anyone else, Taesu would have looked as though he were staring at Min-yeol in a silence that bordered on the unnatural.
Fortunately, however, Itkyu, who had been thinking something over, spoke up.
“Might you, monk Min-yeol, use the hall-name Chimgyedang?”
Min-yeol looked back at Itkyu.
“Hoho. How did you hear the name of this young monk?”
“Indeed. Not just a little, but far and wide the name has spread. There were rumors that in building temples, carving pagodas, and supporting the gongpo with exquisite precision, you are nothing short of a divine artisan. They say this country’s monasteries owe much to Chimgyedang?”
Chimgyedang Min-yeol was one of the representative Buddhist architects of nineteenth-century Joseon.
The skill of this monk-master, who had raised thirteen temples and sixteen buildings, was said to be the finest of the age.
By King Cheoljong’s reign, he was even entrusted as the chief dopyeonsu when the royal family sponsored the construction of Bongeunsa, Seoul’s royal temple. And when the doomed King Gojong, already sensing that the country was headed for collapse, and his wife splashed money around at temples all over the place, Min-yeol won plenty of those contracts too.
He would only truly become famous a few years later, but among Buddhist circles, his name was already well known.
It wasn’t surprising that Itkyu, a senior knight of the Templer Archive’s Donghyang-sa in Waegwan who handled many Joseon documents, would know of him.
And, as with the late Hwang Do-won of the Waegwan Naesang, architects were good with “tools,” and they could bring along plenty of laborers who could work hard without drawing suspicion.
A representative example would be that man named J, who was descended from a proper carpentry line, mastered Rome’s finest whipping techniques, and kept twelve disciples under him.
Most importantly, as with the theory that the Freemasons began as a stonemasons’ guild, an architect’s position was one where the money tended to be plentiful.
And some people believe Jesus was executed on charges of rebellion, while the Freemasons had already succeeded in theirs.
Min-yeol offered a modest smile. “I’m still young, so my talent is lacking. It would have been wonderful if our country, like neighboring Japan, could have raised up splendid Buddhist works without restraint.”
[He sees right through everything. Did he catch it from the way I speak? Perhaps he’s been dealing with the Japanese as well.]
Itkyu’s expression stiffened for an instant as he had roughly the same thought.
The time had come when lies would be useless, and besides, how could a monk utter such a shameless falsehood? Itkyu spoke solemnly.
“Since you seem already to have seen through us, I will speak plainly. This humble monk came from Japan for personal reasons. But I am no spy, and I intend to cultivate the Way in Geumgangsan and spend the rest of my days there.”
“Is that so? Then that’s somewhat troublesome.”
“What?”
Min-yeol turned to Taesu.
“Judging by the killing intent in your eyes, you must already know. Since Venerable Il-hyu here is speaking sincerely, then this humble monk will also be honest. As I said earlier, I’m one of the dangchwi.”
He took a breath and went on.
“The famed Bobusang leader Park Axe may well need us. A peddler, after all, is no different from us in the shape of his life. Why not set your sights high and sweep away the deceitful bastards together?”
* * *
Cha Un-hong reacted sharply. “What filthy, treasonous nonsense are you spouting now?”
“Treacherous, am I? You think you’re in any position to call me filthy? Did you imagine that the people Park Axe has hacked to death and beaten to death wouldn’t pass on the word just because they were common trash?”
He had escaped the state’s surveillance net of Joseon, but not the dangchwi’s surveillance net of the lowborn.
“You’ve butchered more than ten people I know of. It’s only because you haven’t yet stormed government offices or killed ministers that the upper ranks don’t know much about it, but among bandits you’re a vicious bandit indeed.”
[Damn it, I’ve got nothing to say to that. If I try to explain, I’ll only end up revealing that I’ve killed several times more than that.]
Taesu was seeing, for the first time, the mountain spirit openly admitting defeat with its own mouth—and that only made him angrier.
Itkyu said, “If you know that much, then you must also know that Chimgyedang’s intentions in this matter are largely aligned with righteousness.”
“Right. That’s why I’m talking to you. Let me speak plainly. Don’t you think the Mandate of Heaven for this country is used up by now?”
It was used up, all right. Taesu knew better than anyone.
Of course Min-yeol could say such things so calmly because he knew Park Axe’s weaknesses just as well.
“Our desire to unite the world with the power of faith is one thing, but that doesn’t mean we intend to restore Goryeo or install an seungwang. It would help you too. For example, that thing involving Ganghwa Island—”
“Hey.”
Taesu did not speak very loudly.
But Min-yeol stopped talking.
Cha Un-hong tensed up.
Up to now, there had been plenty of people who tried to tempt Park Axe by offering him threats and benefits.
But the only one who had ever succeeded in tempting Park Axe was himself. Cha Un-hong looked a little too tense as well.
Taesu’s answer was always the same.
“I’ve got a good idea.”
“What?”
“How about I split your head and the heads of all these monks in two with an axe, then burn this temple to the ground? That way, as you just said, Won-beom wouldn’t have to worry about being executed and keep watching your mood.”
Itkyu glanced at the staff in his hand.
It felt as though the urgent pleas of Buddhas everywhere were ringing in his skull, begging him to crush that accursed man’s head right now.
But Itkyu’s reason told him that Taesu was right.
Min-yeol’s words, on the surface, had sounded like a denunciation of this country’s contradictions, a shared cry of grievance and cooperation, but in truth the content underneath was….
“What’s all this pleasant-sounding bullshit for? You’re threatening me with Won-beom, aren’t you? Right? You want us to come under you.”
“...That’s a misunderstanding. We’re saying we should join hands.”
“And how exactly do you propose we do that?”
“Our dangchwi are scattered across the country just like your peddler bands. We’ve also got wealth we’ve set aside. You’re merchants, but do you not understand how useful that can be?”
“I’ve got both of those too. If the goods are the same, there’s no trade to be made. Or have you never done business because you’re a monk?”
Taesu reached out. Without so much as asking permission, he grabbed Itkyu’s staff.
If this had been a fight between warriors, Itkyu would have had to choose life or death on the spot, but as a monk, he only looked a little surprised.
It was fair to say that he trusted Park Axe that much.
“Beasts that feed on the same meat can’t help each other. One becomes the stomach, and one becomes the lower end. And usually, the one who starts the conversation wants to be the stomach.”
“What kind of forced reasoning is that? We’d never treat those who’ve helped our own band that way. However little difference there may be between dangchwi and common thugs, we’ve lasted this long because we understand loyalty.”
“Really? Then why is ‘your band’ so loyally hiding behind that door?”
Min-yeol froze.
At the same time, Taesu hurled Itkyu’s staff with all his strength.
Author’s Note
1. Chimgyedang Min-yeol’s architectural career during the reigns of Cheoljong and Gojong is historical fact, but everything said in the first half of this chapter about his career is fictional.
2. According to legend, Shakyamuni’s cousin Devadatta rolled boulders and sent an elephant to assassinate Shakyamuni, but Shakyamuni was said to have tamed them all and made them turn aside on their own. Devadatta continued trying to kill Shakyamuni until the end, then died and fell into hell.