The First Council and the Limping Shipwright
Let's get this meeting started.
Murmur murmur.
This is Sinsi, in the grand assembly hall. Chieftains from every corner of the land and administrators from the various settlements have all gathered — far, far too many of them. There's no way to hold a meeting like this.
Bam bam bam.
For some reason, a gavel has appeared. One that works only for me.
"Hey! Silence! Haneul-nim is about to speak!"
"Quiet!"
"Shh!"
Thwack!
"Shut your mouths, you rascals!"
Tell them to be quiet and they just murmur louder. What a mess.
And look at them — all those gleaming eyes fixed on me alone. I honestly can't tell whether this is a council meeting or a fan club convention.
"All right. First things first — there are simply too many of you. Neighboring tribes should band together to form cities, and only the leaders of those cities will attend from now on."
The mood turns inexplicably gloomy. Wait, what? This is a meeting! A meeting, you hear me? Not a fan club gathering!
"Sniff."
Hey. Are you crying? Over this? This is a complete disaster...
Really. So pure. Pure-hearted, every one of them. Ugh... No wonder they let me sweet-talk them into building a whole nation with a single potato.
Come to think of it, wouldn't this be absolutely impossible the moment civilization advanced even a little?
Well. At least I never launched a war of conquest. Seen this way, it's actually rather sweet. I suppose I can put up with it.
Hiccup.
No. Stop crying. And don't wipe your nose with your sleeve...
"I will handle cleaning up after Haneul-nim, if you permit."
Yes, Cheol. It has to be you.
"Good. I'm counting on you."
At this rate, escaping to the prayer hall would honestly be more restful.
BOOM! CRASH! BANG!
"Hm? What now?"
I'd only walked a little way down the corridor — what were they doing to make the assembly hall this loud? Surely nothing's gone wrong?
Through the corridor windows, the street opened up in the distance. It was remarkably clean, and the children darting about wore such bright, happy faces.
I'd have to visit a back alley someday to know for certain, but...
With no one going hungry anymore, people have grown comfortable enough to take an interest in decorating and adorning their homes.
They've even started building courtyards — plenty of houses now have trees and flowers planted out front.
"Wow, that looks lovely. So they know landscaping too, huh."
"Landscaping?"
"Huh? Oh, it's you, Mira."
The new Chief Secretary. Ever since the founding of the nation, she's built up all sorts of organizations and institutions — and now she's taken over the job Daka once did, looking after me.
Whether it's some tradition or secret passed down, they all have this uncanny habit of sniffing things out with sly little grins.
"Yes. Planting trees and flowers beautifully like that — that's called landscaping."
"Oh, I see! Wonderful words, as always."
A professional class of landscapers will probably spring up before long. Anything I say offhandedly gets recorded like some official chronicle and distributed all over the place.
Tap tap.
On the way back to my room, a soft footfall sounds behind me — like it belongs to just one person.
Is she matching her steps to mine? That's kind of fascinating.
Time to flop onto my bed~
"Eek. Where do you think you're going?"
I was headed for my room when Mira's hand seized mine and hauled me helplessly along. I have never once met anyone weaker than me here.
Wait. Isn't this the bathhouse? I already bathed this morning?
"Why are we here?"
"People have finished making that soap you spoke of."
"Hm? What about the oil? That's the more important part!"
"You mean this?"
"Oh!"
The leather pouch Mira produced — that rich, nutty fragrance!
I hurriedly opened it to find tiny seeds no bigger than sesame grains! Wait, what's with that phrasing? They are sesame-sized, so sesame seeds, I suppose...
Whether they're true sesame or perilla, doesn't matter — this is exactly what I've been waiting for! I can make delicious food with this!
"Let's go to the dining hall!"
"You will look at the soap first."
"Aaack! No!"
"..."
She's like an android. I'm going to have to bathe tomorrow morning anyway, aren't I?
Dragging me off by force when I said no. Wasn't I supposed to be the supreme authority of this land?
No authority whatsoever. None at all.
Splash splash.
Though once I'm actually in the bath, it's rather nice. Floating lazily in the water has a freedom all its own — different from soaring through the sky.
"Isn't this a bit too big for just the two of us?"
"Two of us? This is for your use, Haneul-nim."
"You sneak in every single day, though?"
"If I leave you alone, you don't wash properly. You just splash some water on yourself and climb out, remember?"
Th-that look. That brazen little smirk. The attitude of someone handing a fish to a cat for safekeeping.
But how did she know? I don't even get dirty, and I smell nice — her knack for catching me out is remarkable.
"Come over here. This is the soap."
"Mmh."
I stayed still, and she simply towed me across the water like a raft. Floating really does make everything easier.
"Nngh — there."
"So is it that I'm light, or that you're strong?"
She just put her back into it once and hoisted me clean out of the water.
"You didn't know? Haneul-nim, you're as light as a little child."
Excuse me? I'm that light? No wonder I'm always losing.
"This is the soap?"
"Yes. They made it exactly as you described, but apparently it turned out like this after they tried mixing in this and that."
Word travels from the Temple — that is, from my mouth — to Mira, who passes ideas along to the guild of artisans, who divide the work among themselves and produce the goods.
We've somehow ended up with a class of people rather like alchemists. I've drilled it into them, firmly, that turning lead into gold is nonsense and will not be tolerated.
And any new creation must be tested on insects and animals before it's ever used on a person. Sorry about that, little guys...
"Ah, so that's why it's runny like liquid soap."
"Liquid soap? Hmm, I suppose it is? Then that's what we'll call it."
Anyway — how much of what did they put in to make it this watery? Knowing them, they probably loaded it with all the good stuff just because it was meant for me.
"For laundry, a hard bar would be more practical."
Liquid soap is a nightmare to carry around.
"Understood. There's a solid version too. I'll have them divide production between the fine quality and the ordinary."
The thing that always matters is finding methods that let you mass-produce things with minimal human labor. Making life easier for people. Always.
"Of course, Haneul-nim. You'd simply like everyone to be free to play together, wouldn't you? Heh heh."
Yes. Exactly. Everyone needs breathing room. Breathing room.
"By the way, I don't even need soap? Have you ever once seen dirt on me?"
"Ahh — nyo~"
What kind of answer is that? Huh?
"Hey. What are you— why are you scrubbing so hard?!"
"Hold still, please. You're so silky smooth, it's rather nice."
What — what is she doing?
"You pervert! Get off!"
"Hold stiiiill~"
"Go find yourself a man!"
"Why would I? It'd be gross. This way you're just squishy and adorable all over."
"Hiiiek!"
.
.
.
Cheol said he'd sort things out, and the meeting reconvened a mere week later.
The villages had been consolidated around twelve great cities, each city to send five representatives.
Murmur murmur.
But the hall was still in an uproar — wailing and clamoring — because he'd declared the rest free to observe.
Why is everyone's eye so swollen? And is that person limping?
"Cheol? Why is everyone injured like that?"
"Heh heh heh."
Cheol's fist looked freshly stained crimson.
"I gave their faces a little touching up."
I knew it. So violence is the answer here...
"You drew blood, then?"
"Yes. I've even earned a nickname now. Blood-Dripping Chancellor. Kahaha!"
That doesn't sound like a good nickname at all, yet he's awfully proud of it?
"Cheolhyeol — Iron-Blooded Chancellor, then."
"Oh! Even better! Iron-Blooded Chancellor! I like the ring of it!"
Little did we know that nickname would pass down through the generations...
"Then let us begin with the first agenda item."
With fewer people, the meeting finally started functioning like one. The representatives spoke in proper turn.
Though the gallery kept murmuring among themselves — apparently they had things they wanted to say too.
Bam bam bam.
Thanks to my gavel, I can speak whenever I like.
"Yes, Haneul-nim. Please, go ahead."
"The observers here all belong to one of the city delegations, don't they? I'd like you to schedule regular recesses — short council sessions where each city can gather its opinions between items."
"Oh! Magnificent, as ever. We shall construct a council house and implement it immediately."
My actual contributions are minimal — just the occasional small remark.
The basic business of the meeting runs itself.
"Next, an agenda item concerning the military."
.
.
"Next, the flood-control works."
.
.
"Now, the road construction project."
.
.
Are these people ever going to stop? Do they not eat? I'm fine, but are they all right?
"We shall end today's session here."
"Ooooh!"
A quiet word from Cheol at sundown, and the whole hall rejoiced. Less a leadership council than a herd of administrative slaves, honestly.
And here I thought they were some manner of nobility...
"Haneul-nim, we will withdraw now."
"Yes. Good work, everyone."
They bowed to me and fled from the hall like escaped prisoners.
They really were starving...
"Cheol. You have to feed people if you want them to work."
Even slaves get fed...
"No work has been done yet, so there was no need."
"From tomorrow on, serve them potatoes at breaks, at the very least."
"Yes, Haneul-nim."
There were more pressing matters to discuss, though.
"By the way — how do you plan to govern the cities that lie far away?"
The proportions on the map were a little off, but the broad shape of the land was all there. Looking at it, the territory was simply enormous...
"We are building roads, but that will take considerable time."
"According to the map, most of the cities sit along rivers or the coast. Use ships. Obviously."
Why weren't they using boats? Water transport is the foundation, isn't it?
"...Ships?"
"What? Surprised?"
"Those are terribly dangerous, aren't they?"
Hold on. Wait. There's some misunderstanding here.
"What do you all travel on now?"
"Log rafts, mostly?"
Oh! I get it now. Their level of technology. Riding one of those downriver from upstream and surviving would be a miracle in itself.
Going upstream probably doesn't even occur to them.
"Find me craftsmen who can build proper ships. They'll need deft hands and solid mathematics."
"Oh, we have plenty of people like that these days."
What's remarkable about these people is that, back when I taught the workshops the hexagon construction method for making wheels, they took that — plus numbers and basic arithmetic — and ran with it, developing mathematics on their own.
Astonishing people, truly...
Maybe because they have no luxuries or distractions, they actually find math fun. Insane.
A few days later.
Scrape, scrape, scrape.
What now? Something being dragged?
I waited a moment and watched Cheol drag someone toward me. The person seemed to be unconscious?
THUD.
Knocked out with a punch to the face, apparently. A limp-looking young man in his early twenties, eyes blackened, was tossed into my room.
"I've brought him."
"Is he alive?"
"I did not raise our people so feeble that this would kill them."
What the... is he family of yours or something?
"Who is he?"
"My second son's boy."
Um... so? That makes him your grandson, no?
"I'll wake him."
SHWOOSH.
"Gah— pah!"
Wow. He just dumped a whole water jar straight onto the poor man's face. My sympathies, you limp rag of a fellow.
"Hah... hah..."
Still dazed, the young man looked around wildly. His last memory probably wasn't a pleasant one.
"Wha—!"
What? Have you never seen me before? Why so startled?
"Oh! Beautiful maiden! Would you grace me with a flow—"
THWACK!
Yeah... he had that coming. A limp flirt through and through, inside and out. Apparently not even Cheol's fists can beat it out of him.
"My apologies, Haneul-nim."
Thwack. THWACK! Thud thud! THUD THUD!
Wow. A human being is being tenderized before my eyes. He seems structurally sound at least, judging by the way he's squirming.
After being dragged off briefly for attitude correction, the young man returned.
"It was Haneul-nim. I am deeply sorry."
His head seems fine, but he keeps stealing glances at me — is he all right? Getting beaten seems to have broken him further, if anything...
How do I put this? It feels like everyone I ever summon ends up a little bit broken.
"Yes. Hello. We haven't met, have we?"
"I have watched you from the prayer hall, always."
Great. Another stalker.
"Well. Nice to meet you anyway. We need you to build ships. Do you know what those are?"
"I don't rightly know, but with Haneul-nim beside me, I would journey to the very ends of the earth."
You do need to reach the ends of the earth by ship, though. Wonder if you'll live long enough to make it.
Fix those oily bedroom eyes first, or I have a feeling Cheol back there is going to snap your neck.
Good grief... such is my lot in life.