Nanjing's Bustle and the Dragon's Brewing Storm
I followed the man assigned to us by Je Tae, the Minister of War, as he showed me around Nanjing's markets. The place was teeming with countless people and shops, all remarkably splendid. No wonder Jang Yeong-sil was openly awestruck. It wasn't just him—most of our entourage marveled too. Well, they were mostly laborers rather than officials, so that made sense. I was impressed in my own way. I'd seen plenty of crowds and markets in my past life, so that wasn't surprising. What caught me off guard was how brisk trade remained, even in the midst of a civil war. Probably because the fighting's way up north in Hebei at worst, I thought. What a formidable empire. And it was clear Ming was far more advanced than Joseon. The buildings were dazzling compared to ours. That said, true to their love for red, there was way too much of it everywhere. Personally, I wasn't a fan of all that crimson.
Eventually, we arrived at a trading house, where I spotted some sugar.
"As expected, it's brown sugar."
"Pardon? Is there other kinds?"
"Nah, just talking to myself."
I recalled that white sugar refining methods emerged around this Ming era, but apparently not yet. Honestly, I preferred brown sugar anyway, so no complaints. The caravan master bowed deeply, asking most politely how much I'd like to buy. He must have figured anyone personally sent by the Minister of War was a big shot. And he wasn't wrong—foreign envoys were lofty figures to them. They had no one to complain to about any overreach. Even the Ming court wouldn't bat an eye at minor abuses. Not that they even recognized it as such. Since old Zhu Yuan zhang's death, discipline among officials had slackened considerably. Not enough to ruin the country, but corruption was creeping up compared to his iron-fisted days—like they were making up for lost time.
Not my problem if Ming's riddled with graft, I mused. My job was to exploit those cracks, slip in some bribes, and dig for intel. I'd gathered plenty already, so mission accomplished. Time to buy that sugar. I said about 100 geun—over 50 kilos by their weights—and he lit up. A hefty sum, but not outrageously priced. Cheaper than I'd feared, though not as dirt-cheap as my past life. China had poured resources into sugarcane since the Southern Song, churning out massive yields. If you had cash in Ming, sugar was easy to get. For bulk, though, you needed connections—hence Je Tae. In sugar-less Joseon, it was a hassle no matter what.
The peninsula really lacks so much, I reflected. Surprisingly, I had cash left. Buy more? Nah, this was enough. More would just draw unwanted attention. Time for other goods. After wrapping up, our guide asked,
"My lord, what next?"
"Let's hit an inn for a bite. Know a good one?"
"Yes, sir."
We dined at the inn. They hesitated to share my table, but I brushed it off. No need for posturing over a meal. Everyone dug in heartily. Midway, Jang Yeong-sil slurped his noodles and said,
"Noodles are dirt cheap here."
"Yeah, a steal compared to Joseon."
Thanks to Hebei's vast wheat fields. If memory served, China's output ranked second only to America's. Truly, nothing this place lacks, I thought. Makes me even more convinced we must fracture it someday.
"But my lord, you eat so little—even back in Dongnae."
Yeong-sil, maybe you eat too much? Growing boys needed fuel, sure. The laborers chimed in, shocked at my frugality—no slaves cooking for me; I did it myself. It earned me a flattering misconception: the epitome of a refined scholar. Even Yi Seong-gye had remarked on it, though he'd sneered it was just because I cooked well. Truth was, this era's food didn't suit my palate. But hey, flattering rep? No plans to correct it.
These noodles hit the spot, though. Wheat in bulk for jjajangmyeon back home? No chili powder, but it could work. I knew the recipe from before.
"My lord, how long in Nanjing?"
"Till next January, probably. Emperor's birthday passed, but New Year's greetings are custom."
Skippable, but it scored points. Plus, Yi Kyung-ryong would deliver crushing defeat news soon. He'd get obliterated in December, then again early next year. The Ming court would lose their minds. I'd watch the show, then meddle a bit. They'd likely detain us, fearing we'd side with Prince of Yan amid the disasters. Perfect chance to negotiate.
Post-meal, we wandered more markets. Reinforced my conviction: Joseon needed currency. Copper shortage meant paper money. Yi Bang-won's policy flopped historically, but my tweaks would make it viable. His failure? He weaponized it as a tax grab, not monetary policy. Blame the Jurchens. Zhu Di tightened control, installing garrisons and scattering command posts—even to Tumen River tribes under Joseon's sway. To Yi Bang-won, a dire security threat, hence the squeeze for military funds.
Zhu Di's Joseon's worst nightmare, I thought. Chasing fake glory with such nonsense. And hilariously, he couldn't even manage them properly. Emanyu was iffy, but Manteomu blatantly stole our managed tribe and botched oversight—disaster for both nations. His descendant? Infamous Nurhaci. Right now, Manteomu was Yi Seong-gye's loyalist; I'd told Min Mu-gu to wipe his clan if he stepped out of line. No desire to face Nurhaci, Hong Taiji, or Dorgon next possession. (Though Yi Ji-ran's maternal kin had a distant cousin there—family matter.) Bottom line: eliminate Zhu Di to prevent it. Zhu Yuanzhang owed me. Saved his precious grandson, watched his future nemesis. He'd owe me a bow from the afterlife.
Our guide then said,
"Sun's setting—head back? Or to the pleasure houses?"
The group gulped eagerly. Fine, let them unwind.
"I'll handle work back at quarters. Guide them."
I handed over some gold from Zhu Yuanzhang. They left thrilled. I took Jang Yeong-sil; he immediately started sketching.
"What're you up to?"
"Drawing what we saw. Things I wanna build back home."
Liked that drive. Keep at it, kid. Next day, the revelers returned beaming. Proper fun, eh? Maybe I'd try later. We lingered in Ming, awaiting New Year.
New Year came. After greetings to Zhu Yunwen, we feigned departure. He insisted we stay for gifts. Yi Kyung-ryong's rout must've hit, I figured. We waited longer in quarters. Yi Cheom fretted,
"Why detain us? Like Zhu Yuanzhang's era—trouble?"
"Civil war. Yi Kyung-ryong likely crushed."
Recent northern couriers confirmed it. History agreed.
"50,000 troops routed?"
"Else no reason to hold us."
His executed mentor Kim Gu-yong's fate soured his face.
"No worries. Just wait."
"Why?"
Zhu Yuanzhang-style threats impossible now. Push too hard, and if Joseon swung to Prince of Yan, catastrophe. Smart enough to know: Yan's forces split—checking Liaodong, guarding Beiping, main host under Zhu Di. If we aided Liaodong, Yan frees troops south. Liaodong already mauled; under 50,000 left. They'd dread that. History: Zhu Yunwen granted every Joseon demand to keep us neutral.
Yi Cheom relaxed at my explanation.
"What now?"
"Wait. They'll probe intent, block Yan ties with generous terms. Report to Your Highness."
"Your take?"
"Your call, but I'd prefer status quo. Yan's aggressive, ambitious. Throne by force means conquests galore—Joseon squeezed forever. Hope he fails."
"Sound, but won't he win?"
"No. Wait. Pleasure houses fine if you want."
Yi Cheom laughed.
"I'm not that age."
We bantered, Ming life comfy.
Meanwhile, Zhu Yunwen urgently conferred with aides. Northern front dire. Before Yi Kyung-ryong rallied, Zhu Di struck Liaodong. Yi besieged Beiping massively, but freed Zhu Gaochi defended ironclad, dragging the siege. Zhu Di smashed Liaodong, stabilized, then swift-froze Baihe crossing to ambush, slaughtering near 40,000. Yi's rear probe sank in cracking ice, heavy losses; he retreated. Zhu Di pursued with cavalry, crushing Yi's ragtag host at Zhengcun Pass through Yi's incompetence and Zhu Di's brilliance. Yi fled to Shandong Peninsula. Zhu Di pressed, taking Ulju.
The crisis reached Nanjing. In council, Hwang Ja-jing faced blistering blame—he'd freed Zhu Gaochi and pushed Yi Kyung-ryong. Both disasters. Zhu Yunwen halted it, demanding solutions. Je Tae spoke:
"Send other generals. Army recruitable, but Shandong lost is dire. Appoint Cheol Hyeon as Shandong pacifier."
All agreed. Talk shifted to Joseon—how to block aid to Prince of Yan.