Kaesong’s Venice Merchant (2)
Taesu said, “I promised Son Yu-jak and the children that I would kill Kim Sang-jun, the man who reduced them to such a state. If the powerful won’t punish him, I will.”
“I’m not ignorant of that. But...”
“From what I heard at the Ganghwa barracks, a bobusang does not make promises lightly, but if he does, he keeps them even if he has to turn away profit. Didn’t you say I’m the same sort of bobusang to you?”
Cha Un-hong, who had been about to object, broke into a smile.
“I did. I said so plainly that night.”
She fell silent for a moment, as though weighing the words in her mouth, then said, “Very well. Then I’ll let you follow my plan for how to kill him. Will that do?”
“Fine.”
* * *
Kim Sang-jun’s post as Kaesong Deputy Overseer of Instruction was one that had been created to give the Kaesong literati a chance to advance into the ranks of the clean and exalted.
No words could fully describe the struggle the Kaesong scholars had waged to win this regional appointment.
The greatest obstacle had been the capital’s faction, which insisted that special regional quotas were nothing more than reverse discrimination.
Given the constant strain on Joseon’s office allotments, the deputy post could exist only if the old professorship was abolished. Yet the professorship—though filled by a man selected from Kaesong—was a position assigned to a sixth-rank established civil official dispatched from Seoul.
In other words, structurally speaking, it belonged to the vested interests of the capital. Naturally, that meant centuries of push and pull.
Those below were crushed by petitions; those above were scolded by the court; and Kaesong’s magistrates kept blowing up in the middle. The Kaesong branch of Sungkyunkwan, too, went through one confusion after another, having a professor, then a deputy overseer, then both at once.
That was how vulnerable the Kaesong Deputy Overseer of Instruction was to scandal.
So the Kaesong literati had been desperate to cover up Kim Sang-jun’s crimes in order to protect the post.
The first goal of Cha Un-hong’s operation, launched from that very day, was exactly that weak point.
She had to make the Kaesong scholars understand that if they protected Kim Sang-jun, the existence of the deputy post itself would become even more precarious.
The point was not to pry open the murder itself. A verdict of innocence on murder was already difficult to overturn, if only because the court had its own face to save.
The real target was not Kim Sang-jun, but the office of the Kaesong Deputy Overseer of Instruction itself. They needed to emphasize that these were crimes committed precisely because he had been the Deputy Overseer of Instruction.
Gong the steward began making the rounds of the Bureau of Ritual Supplies and the Storage Office for Worthies.
Put simply, the Bureau of Ritual Supplies and the Storage Office for Worthies were Kaesong’s education funds. They supported sixteen schools and private academies, including Sungkyunkwan Kaesong.
The clerks and petty officials there were responsible for supplying ceremonial goods and other school necessities on time. They were, in effect, the administrative office.
Just as the clerks in a school office would be friendly with the copy shop across the street, they had no choice but to stay on good terms with Cha Un-hong and the Kaesong merchants. They welcomed her representative warmly.
But once Gong the steward delivered the “inside information,” they went pale.
“Looks like you fellows have been secretly funneling money to Deputy Overseer Kim Sang-jun. This Kaesong was once a royal capital, a land steeped in the scent of scholars’ ink—how dare men who have served the schools for generations steal from the ritual funds?”
“W-what are you talking about?”
“It’s all in the documents, so don’t pretend innocence. You know the tavern outside the market over there, don’t you? Must I say more?”
This was the underbelly of Kim Sang-jun that Taesu and Cha Un-hong had uncovered.
Joseon was a financial giant that fed not only on its subjects, but also on monarchs, royal kin, ministers, nobles, and the government itself through moneylending.
Of course Kaesong’s education funds were also run through usurious returns. It was much like how a national pension fund might be operated through stock investment by the people as a whole.
Kim Sang-jun had mixed his private loan-sharking business into that system.
For practical posts like Jikjang, such as the one at the Bureau of Ritual Supplies, were also stepping-stones to promotion within the deputy overseer track, so exercising influence there was no trouble at all.
Kim Sang-jun had dragged his colleagues and subordinates—the petty officials and clerks—into a rigged gambling den.
With debts stacked so high they could barely breathe, they had no choice but to tamper with the ledgers exactly as Kim Sang-jun ordered.
On the surface, it looked as though the education fund was being managed normally. In reality, every last coin of the Bureau of Ritual Supplies and the Storage Office for Worthies—money amounting to no less than ten thousand nyang—had become Kim Sang-jun’s loan capital.
There was no better example of the “evils of regional quotas” for opponents to sink their teeth into.
Gong the steward conveyed Cha Un-hong’s meaning.
“My master said that, though he may be from a merchant family, he cannot associate with those who defile the way of letters and learning. The same goes for Hwandojung and the other merchants.”
This was not some idle talk about cutting off trade.
The practical men, who were no fools, seized on the words “the other merchants.” It meant the rumor had already spread far and wide.
If Kim Sang-jun dug in his heels and the matter leaked all the way to Seoul, disaster would follow.
The Seoul-born students would attack Kaesong Deputy Overseer of Instruction with ferocity, using their fathers, grandfathers, and senior men as channels.
Eliminate one regional quota, and one more general opening appears. If there was to be “fair competition,” why would he, backed by the prestige of a capital aristocratic house, possibly lose?
For Kim Sang-jun, being driven out might be the end of it.
But for the practical men—those not born nobles—they might be killed by the hands of Kaesong’s enraged student body, driven mad by the loss of regional quotas.
There was only one solution to preserve the deputy post.
Kim Sang-jun had to be quietly cut down for a crime that was neither murder nor embezzlement of the education fund.
For example, a kidnapping and assault charge would be just enough to get rid of Kim Sang-jun alone. The administrative men naturally knew that he had abducted not only the mother of the Son family, but the daughter as well.
Gong the steward added one more layer of seasoning.
“If Kim Sang-jun is expelled, not only will it glorify the reputation of our Songdo, which honors righteousness, but all the debts he has foisted on others through extortion will vanish as well. What could be better?”
The office staff suddenly became modern men.
That’s right. Why should anyone repay illegal loans?
Weren’t they debts created in a rigged gambling game to begin with? If there hadn’t been fraud, they would have won the money themselves. The same way Seoul students who claimed they’d have passed the civil exams if not for the regional quota were really saying the same thing, this was a case of the cause being void from the start.
The practical men hurried to build grassroots opinion.
“Let’s pass the word to the Gwanhak Byeoljae committee—the student house officers. There are plenty of licensed scholars there who are waiting for the next deputy overseer post. If they hear the post might disappear, they’ll surely run straight to the magistrate’s office.”
“I... I happen to have monthly lectures at Sungyang Seowon soon, so I’ll need to bring some supplies there. I’ll casually bring it up.”
“I know a few people in the magistrate’s office. Didn’t they say Kim Sang-jun was shuttling between Jangdong and elsewhere? I can’t say it openly, but our current magistrate is an upright scholar who dislikes the powerful. I’ll see if I can get it to his ears somehow.”
Dirty illegal gambling dens and vicious loan sharks had no place in such an ancient city.
Here, it was the educators who had to step forward. The clerks who upheld Kaesong’s education world parted ways with grim resolve.
* * *
The current Kaesong magistrate, Kim Haksung, came from the distinguished Cheongpung Kim clan.
Measured by office alone, he did not lag far behind Kim Jwa-geun. If history followed its course, the elder Kim Jwa-geun’s office of inspector would have belonged to this man in another year or so.
Needless to say, that was because King Heonjong, Yi Hwan, had been openly backing him.
Hwan had been trying to win over eminent ministers like Kim Haksung as a counterweight to the Andong Kim clan.
Kim Haksung had no particular grudge against Kim Jwa-geun, so he was somewhat uncomfortable—but he had even less reason to defy the king. He merely performed his duties while quietly accepting the office bestowed upon him.
To such a man, the subversive rumor now circulating was nothing but an annoyance.
If they’re doing usury, they should expect to lose some money. Even if a scholar starves, there’s no shame in living frugally—so why let the rumor spread because you couldn’t even restrain yourselves and keep things in check?
Kim Haksung was thinking hard about how to deal with this fool.
If he reported it honestly, the Kaesong Deputy Overseer post would naturally be gone.
Then the students might storm the magistrate’s office.
Not as a metaphor for a protest visit—no, with stones and bamboo spears in hand, and no hesitation about killing.
This was no idle fear. Kaesong had once seen commoners storm and smash the local magistrate’s office because butchers had dared to wear official ceremonial dress at a wedding.
If this filthy mess splashed all the way to Kim Jwa-geun—though the king would probably like nothing more than to fling the filth himself—Kim Haksung could end up bearing the blame and earning the hatred of Jangdong on top of it.
But if he let it slide, the rumor would spread to Seoul.
The impeachment that would ask what Kaesong magistrate Kim Haksung had been doing while a moneylender used the education fund as a shell account was almost visible before his eyes.
In the end, the answer was compromise.
Though it went against the righteous path, he could only “decide” in the direction that the students of various hyanggyo and seowon had subtly suggested.
“Since the court has already ruled him innocent of murder, there is no need to discuss that. We will only charge him with the kidnapping of a young woman from a common household afterward, so arrest him and have him beaten with the cudgel. A man like that cannot instruct the young, so I will report that the deputy overseer should be replaced.”
The punishment for kidnapping could easily be handled at the level of the Kaesong magistrate. And as a reason to strip him of the post entirely, it was just weak enough to be perfect.
For all that Kim Sang-jun carried himself like some important lender, to the Kaesong magistrate he was nothing more than a thug.
When the order came down from a man with authority to mobilize seven thousand soldiers in a single evening, Kim Sang-jun was dragged out without a word and beaten with cudgels.
To remove any future trouble, Magistrate Kim Haksung ordered—just as the administrators had hoped—that all the promissory notes be burned. Kaesong’s refined scholars solemnly praised the realization of justice that cared for nothing even for wealth.
* * *
If this were a folktale, that would be the end.
But this was reality. Kim Sang-jun, unable to let it end there, desperately tried to sell off the bonds, even forgetting the pain in his backside.
It would take some time before the soldiers could seize the bonds away from him. It was a blessing that Joseon administration tended to slow to a crawl and then dissolve into nothing; at a time like this, its incompetence was truly welcome.
And yet, despite the absurdly low price, there were no buyers. A fool who set one foot into a test case like this could not survive in Kaesong’s upper merchant world in the first place.
There was only one exception: a hulking peddler who had come not from Kaesong, but from Ganghwado.
In ordinary times, he would have been thrown out before he’d taken ten steps past the gate, but there was no choice now that things were urgent.
Kim Sang-jun received Taesu himself, then handed over all the bonds in exchange for a large lump of silver.
Taesu smiled pleasantly. The Mountain Spirit got chills.
“I’ve grown weary of wandering around, so I thought I’d try my hand at usury in Kaesong. Thanks to Your Honor, I’ve been able to get started smoothly.”
“Of course. It’s all about timing, isn’t it? From what I can see, you’ve got a rare bearing. You look like a man destined for great things.”
It was praise so excessive it almost sounded strange.
Sure enough, Kim Sang-jun soon revealed the second reason why this “clever” man had bothered to meet a lowly peddler.
“I’m sure a merchant doesn’t need to be told that a favor like this—practically a forced bargain—comes at a cost... In return, I need you to act as a broker for me. You said you came from Ganghwa, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I’m with the Dongmongcheong of the Ganghwa barracks.”
“A traveling seller with a cargo boat, huh? Reliable. Is there a boatman among your tight-lipped, skillful men who can take me straight to Ganghwa?”
Kim Sang-jun’s target was not Seoul.
If he carried a sack of money and went looking for Kim Jwa-geun in Jangdong, there was no chance that Kim Jwa-geun would listen to someone like Kim Sang-jun.
Besides, if he took the overland route to Seoul, his obvious intent would be discovered first by the Kaesong literati.
If you wanted to shoot the general, you had to shoot the horse first. Kim Byeong-gi, Kim Jwa-geun’s son, who had come to Jeondeungsa on Ganghwa to study, was Kim Sang-jun’s real target.
“I’ve already sent my servants ahead, but whether they’re lazy or just strangers in a foreign land, I haven’t heard a thing from them. Time’s short, so you’ll have to arrange it for me.”
Taesu said, as if it had all turned out conveniently, “I happen to know a boatman I relied on when I left Ganghwa. I’ll send word to him, so please come out to the Yeoseong River ferry.”
“I’ll trust you with it.”
* * *
They had never set up a street stall in the market, but Taesu and Cha Un-hong were, in any case, bona fide bobusang under the Ganghwa barracks.
That was how Cha Un-hong had known Kim Byeong-gi had come to Ganghwa, and how she had been able to leak the information to Kim Sang-jun so casually.
The bobusang network was fast this time, too. Contact with Kim Sun-won, a salted-fish peddler from the same Ganghwa barracks, was made in no time at all.
How much could a salted-fish seller possibly make? Kim Sun-won cheerfully accepted the side job.
Most of Kim Sang-jun’s servants had been sent to Ganghwa and vanished, and the rest had fled as soon as they sensed the master’s situation. By then Kim Sang-jun had no servants left to take with him.
Exhausted from hauling the heavy commission fee, Kim Sang-jun sprawled against the gunwale as soon as they left the Yeoseong River.
Only then, as though the thought had just occurred to him, did he look at Taesu.
“Why are you bothering to follow me all the way here?”
Taesu answered with disarming innocence. “I figured I’d use the chance to visit Ganghwa myself. And seeing how broad-minded you are, Your Honor, I thought you must be a man going places, so it wouldn’t do for a commoner’s guesswork to treat you carelessly.”
He sounded almost like a proper Joseon subject now. Kim Sang-jun, who had been lounging with all the magnanimity of a truly grand man, straightened at once and adjusted his robe.
“Ahem! A scholar can’t very well fasten his own straps, can he? If you escort me and come with me to Jeondeungsa, I’ll make use of you again in the future. Useless servants are just... well, you never know where they are.”
“Do you have business at the temple, sir?”
Kim Sang-jun shot Kim Sun-won a glance.
Kim Sun-won, who seemed to care only for material things, was busy scolding a boy who was handling the sail rope. Kim Sang-jun leaned toward Taesu.
“There happens to be a child of the Jangdong house up there. In any case, just wait and see. Once this injustice is cleared, those insolent bastards will all be dealt with.”
“I’m from another place and don’t know much, but you must have suffered some grave wrong.”
“Of course! Did someone tell me to go gambling at knifepoint? They borrowed money of their own will and now they’re pulling this scheme so they won’t have to pay it back. Just like his mother, who kept snarling and snarling until the day she died—so vicious. Her daughter’s exactly the same. I’ll cut the heel sinews and sell her off to the flesh merchants the moment I catch her.”
“Is that so. You must be terribly burdened.”
It was only light agreement.
And yet Kim Sang-jun felt a strange sense of unease.
The source of that unease was a kind of premonition—the sharp edge of a sixth sense, the kind every person is said to be granted at least once in a lifetime.
It varies by person, but it is usually said to awaken at the moment of death.
Kim Sang-jun flinched at the massive, sudden movement.
Taesu had snapped his upper body around.
That twist carried his weight smoothly all the way into his right hand. The descending axe cut cleanly through Kim Sang-jun’s instep in one blow and sank deep into the gunwale.
“Aaaargh!”
Kim Sang-jun screamed. And then a louder roar followed that scream.
“Did you all hear this bastard’s own confession just now?”
Son Yu-jak, who had been gripping the sail rope, stepped forward with eyes blazing.
In his hand was the dagger Taesu had given him before.
“Yes. We heard it clear as day.”
“Just like last time, do what you want.”
Son Yu-jak had not forgotten the modern medical knowledge Taesu had taught him in the market.
Unfortunately, it seemed Kim Sang-jun would not be sold to the flesh merchants after all.
A little later, Boatman Kim Sun-won casually rowed on with one fewer passenger.
Indeed, he was a man who kept his mouth as tight as Kim Sang-jun had ordered.
Author’s Note
1. Kim Haksung received a promotion from King Heonjong while serving as vice minister, and was later appointed as a minister by royal special order rather than through the standard recommendation process of the Ministry of Personnel. This was called jungbi, and Heonjong made rather heavy use of such appointments to cultivate his own power base.
That said, Kim Haksung remained in high office throughout the reigns of Cheoljong and Gojong as well, though he never rose as far as prime minister. He even once composed a celebratory poem in the same meter as one of Kim Jwa-geun’s verses.