Please Don't Raise Your Voice - 1
In the eastern kingdom, there's this concept called a dangsanggwan. When discussing state affairs, they sit above the other officials on the dais, hence the name. These dangsanggwan are the high-ranking bureaucrats who debate the nation's greater good and bear responsibility for it. Of course, that eastern kingdom is one that emerges in the future from my previous life. Even considering how spectacularly this world's history has twisted, it might never come to pass—but anyway, it's a way to refer to officials of third rank or higher as 'the nation's top brass.'
In other words, with this promotion, I've undeniably become one of the nation's high-ranking officials. Among local bureaucrats, I'm on par with the Provincial Inspector, who handles judicial oversight. Among central officials, I'm equivalent to a Vice Minister of one of the Six Ministries—a top-tier position.
A vice-ministerial role in my twenties. It's absurd. In my previous life, just landing any civil service job at my age would have been impressive. A vice minister? No way.
"Hahaha! Well done, my eldest grandson! How many officials your age reach third rank? Among today's civil officials, you're one of a kind!"
I managed to suppress my mixed feelings. From the moment I returned to Giwangjeo after the promotion ceremony, it had become not just my achievement, but the family's celebration.
"Indeed, considering all your hard work, third rank is the least you deserve! Keep going all the way to junior second and senior second!"
"I'll strive diligently to live up to Grandfather's expectations."
I nearly chuckled at Grandfather's detail-oriented omission of senior first rank. While military officials have the senior first-rank post of Commander of the Five Armies Headquarters, civil officials' senior first rank is just honorary, like Grand Preceptor. Realistically, senior second rank is the practical ceiling for civil servants. If I ever reached senior first, it would mean Giwangga's ascension was imminent—a time to step back from office and live as a king. A point to bestow honor over real power.
"Oh, right, Un-a. While you were at the palace, a letter arrived from the Dochalwon."
"Pardon?"
My face stiffened instinctively at the mention of Dochalwon. Why send a letter from there? Another dispatch order? Sending out a poor official who'd just returned?
"Heh, it's not what you think, so don't make that face. It's good news."
Grandfather patted my shoulder with a pleased expression and turned to Ak I-yeon. Ak Wang, standing beside him, also gazed at her with a faint smile.
"Our granddaughter-in-law got promoted too. From Junior Clerk to Senior Clerk."
Ah.
I flinched briefly at 'Senior Clerk.' Seventh-rank civil official. It required jumping two steps from her original junior seventh-rank Junior Clerk.
In the end.
A bittersweet feeling welled up. No matter how much I rolled in hell, I wanted Ak I-yeon to stay at a low rank, always relaxed and happy. But for the crime of traveling with me, she'd been promoted two steps.
"Congratulations. His Majesty must recognize I-yeon's efforts too."
"No, Father-in-law. It's an honor that His Majesty so highly values my minor contributions."
Of course, I didn't offer condolences to the smiling Ak I-yeon. Mourning your fiancée's promotion would make me seem treasonous. Regardless of the reality, promotions are worth celebrating. And ending at seventh rank was decent enough to congratulate sincerely.
Because she's a Recorder Escort, it stopped there.
Ak I-yeon's post in the Dochalwon was Recorder Escort—a vague role for accruing merit. If she'd wielded a sword and conducted inspections directly, how high would she have gone?
Wielding a sword... conducting inspections...
What the hell are you?
This time, I couldn't hide my pity. If even the mid-journey clerk got two promotions, how much had Inspector Jo Wi-cheo advanced?
"Wi-cheo."
"Yes, my lord."
At my call, Jo Wi-cheo replied with a mournful expression—so subtle others might miss it, but I knew. That was his saddest face.
"What about you?"
No answer came. His complexion darkened to the point words failed—like someone denying an incoming calamity, or beholding an unbearable burden.
"Well, it seems he's so moved by His Majesty's grace that his throat's gone dry. He became a Senior Gentleman for Merit."
Ah.
I closed my eyes at Grandfather's merciless revelation. Jo Wi-cheo's original rank was junior sixth-rank Junior Gentleman for Merit. Senior sixth-rank Senior Gentleman for Merit required three steps up. One more would cross into junior fifth.
Tears nearly welled up. What evil deeds from a past life warranted three promotions? Was Jo Wi-cheo a magpie in his previous life?
"At least it's just the rank increase—your posts remain the same. Keep that in mind."
"Ah, yes."
A small relief; I sighed inwardly. The real heavyweights get actual position changes, not just ranks. High rank with the same duties means unchanged work and obligations. No need to grieve.
"Oh, and a letter came from the Imperial Academy too."
My calmed heart raced again.
"They want you to bring the plaque when you have time. They'll clean it up nicely since they've already collected it."
"Just the plaque?"
Grandfather chuckled at my desperate gaze.
"In half a month, the court debate begins. They asked to send scholars to participate too."
I closed my eyes again. What I'd hoped would fizzle out was now upon me. The emperor's whim hadn't changed, nor had the ministers blocked it.
Half a month.
I'd already steeled myself. The emperor had set the stage; I'd even rallied the scholars to burn bright. Still, with the campfire looming, my heart pounded for various reasons. I just hoped the scholars upheld propriety before the emperor—
"A court debate? What does that mean?"
Jin-i, who'd been silent, reacted to 'court debate.'
Ah.
Our eyes met, and a great idea struck.
The Imperial Academy oversees all educational institutions in Daesong and studies Confucian classics. Unlike the Ministry of Rites, which covers education, etiquette, and ceremonies, it's a 14th-century Education Ministry focused solely on learning. Its political clout isn't flashy, but its academic and social influence is immense. It manages the nation's century-long plans through education and researches the sages' teachings. It's where scholars across the land seek direction, and old Confucian masters dance their last dance.
"This is the plaque from Seokgosan Academy."
So I rushed to the Imperial Academy the moment their letter arrived. No sense souring ties with these folks—it'd get messy. Their disciples and peers are strewn across officialdom.
"Heh, I didn't expect you'd come today. Embarrassing to have hurried such a busy man."
"Hurried? Everyone knows you're the busiest in Daesong, Director Je. Shouldn't the one with time handle it?"
Thus, I used honorifics with Director Je, lower-ranked than me. Head of an institution, overseer of education, Confucian heavyweight, elder statesman extraordinaire. Even as crown prince, I couldn't treat him lightly.
"Such warm consideration. As always, Your Highness is exemplary."
"You're too kind."
Plus, I'd briefly studied under him.
"But Your Highness, the young ones behind you must be the future stars for the court debate."
After warm exchanges, Director Je, holding the plaque, turned to my side.
"What brings the crown prince with them? I'm just delighted to see these two after so long."
Precisely, to Jin-i, whom I'd dragged along.
"He'll participate too."
"Heh. You as well, Your Highness?"
"Of course not directly. I'll mediate if it heats up—just that role."
"Mediate."
Director Je stroked his long beard, eyes closing briefly.
"Excellent. Even with the emperor and ministers present, adults joining youths' debate would be awkward. Young and wise as you are, you'll mediate superbly."
He nodded with a faint smile. As expected from the director—I trusted he'd understand. Few suit mediation like Jin-i.
Smart head, noble blood.
In a way, an upgrade over Pungseong. One Pungseong felt shaky for mediation; Jin-i adds stability.
"Um, brother."
"Hm? Speak."
"I just asked what the court debate was for—I never said I'd mediate."
"You learn the unknown by experiencing it. Is there a surer way to resolve doubts than joining a court debate?"
"Pardon...?"
Jin-i stood speechless, moved by my flawless logic and care. Where else such a brother? For his studying sibling, future official, I'd secured the ultimate debut stage. A chance to wield his knowledge, etch him as 'the smart crown prince' beyond 'just crown prince.'
"Pungseong mediating with you is a fine scholar too—no big issue. Just take it without pressure."
I patted the dazed Jin-i's shoulder. Post-debate, the emperor might appoint him on the spot.
Doomed. Doomeddoomeddoomeddoomed.
Mediating at court.
With all the merit subjects and ministers there. Things had gone spectacularly awry. One slip, and my Song Mountain plans could derail.
Brother. Why.
I glared at him resentfully. I'd committed no sin against him. Why this cruel punishment? This immature brother couldn't comprehend.