Arrival in Dongnae and the Dawn of Joseon
Thus, I pressed on toward Gyeongsang Province with my private soldiers in tow. The reason I brought them was simple: in this crumbling Goryeo, the only real government troops were those guarding the capital. It was no exaggeration to say that most of the kingdom's forces belonged to the powerful clans.
The private armies led by these clans could be roughly divided into two types. One was genuine soldiers armed and loyal directly to the clan lord. The other was conscripts pulled from military households. Goryeo separated tax-paying commoner households from military households responsible for service, drawing troops from the latter. But the powerful clans had seized control of the conscription rights, turning those men into their own private forces. No wonder the state lacked proper soldiers.
It wasn't for nothing that people said in the late Goryeo, "Goryeo is a land without a country." The land belonged to the clans, the soldiers to the clans, the taxes to the clans.
In any case, the soldiers I led were true retainers of our Yeheung Min Clan. I brought them because the impending Japanese pirate invasions starting next year would be too much for government troops alone to handle.
As we rode along, one of my retainers on horseback beside me spoke up.
"Young master, Dongnae is just ahead."
"Is that right?"
This man was a retainer from Gyeongsang Province, residing in our household. Father had deemed him useful enough to bring along.
My destination was Dongnae in Gyeongsang Province. I'd chosen it specifically because it was the most frequent target of pirate raids. Plus, as one of the province's larger towns, it offered decent living conditions.
As we went, fields came into view, dotted with farmers at work. The retainer beside me remarked,
"It's clear there are far more people farming than before."
"Wasn't it always like this?"
"Fifteen years ago, when I was last here, there were no farmers at all."
"Why not?"
"The pirates, of course."
I'd underestimated just how devastating the late Goryeo pirate invasions had been. The country had nearly collapsed back then.
"And their faces look brighter, too."
"Must be the effects of the gwajeonbeop land reform."
"True enough."
The chaos of multiple land deeds in late Goryeo was beyond hopeless. A single plot could have two or three deed-holders as a baseline, with four or five not uncommon. Add in other taxes, and in the worst cases, farmers surrendered up to eighty percent of their yield. If eighty percent of your earnings vanished, who'd want to keep living?
Even self-farming households fared better, but by late Goryeo, temples and clans were snatching land in endless disputes, long extinguishing independent farmers. And those private temple estates? All tax-exempt, crippling the national treasury. No wonder the radical scholar-officials clamored to abolish them—it was unsustainable.
The gwajeonbeop had dramatically improved state finances by reclaiming those private deeds for the crown. For reclaimed lands, owners paid just four tu per gyeol to the state, while managers had pocketed over thirty. Now it all flowed to the treasury.
For reference, taxes paid to the state were se, while the managers' share was jo. That's why their cut was sujo rights, and the state's was jeonse.
"Still, since the gwajeonbeop took effect, confining multiple deeds to the Gyeonggi region should make things better."
"You've memorized the entire law?"
"Yeah."
I recited its contents for him. Listening, he marveled,
"I've always thought so, but young master, your mind is truly exceptional. How did you commit it all to memory?"
This Min Mu-jil must have been sharper than I'd realized—everyone remarked on it. The problem was his lack of filter between brain and mouth, plus his boundless ambition.
"Then let's hurry."
"Yes, young master."
And so we sped toward Dongnae. A few days later, we arrived.
Upon reaching Dongnae, I headed straight to the local yamen to register my stay. The magistrate, the Dongnae county administrator, glanced at my details.
"Ah, the son of Lord Miljiksasa. A pleasure—please make yourself at home."
"I'm grateful for your kind welcome, Magistrate."
"No need for that."
He waved it off dismissively. For a mere military officer like me, it was overly courteous and familiar. All thanks to family prestige. The Yeheung Min Clan was among the nation's top noble houses.
Besides, Goryeo was on the brink of collapse, with Yi Seong-gye poised to take the throne. We'd be the consort's family, at minimum—at least for a prince. Naturally, they wanted to stay on our good side. No risk of bullying here; if anything, I'd be the one in position to do it.
Not that I planned to. I'd had my fill of that abuse as a grad student.
He arranged lodging for me and barracks for the soldiers. He offered servants too, but I declined— I was used to handling things alone.
Afterward, I wandered the village in plain clothes. Armor would make everyone uncomfortable.
As I strolled, it was clear harvest season loomed in two months; things looked busier than expected. Curious about the farmers' talk, I approached.
Spotting me, they paused. "Who might you be, sir?"
"Just a traveler passing through, checking on this year's crops."
"Is that so?"
"Mind telling me how things are?"
I offered a coarse cotton garment from my pack, and they lit up, chatting eagerly.
"If only every year were like this."
"Why's that?"
"No landlords showing up anymore, no one demanding rent with documents—just pay the taxes, and that's it. It's wonderful."
Who knew if it'd last. Then another chimed in,
"More importantly, no pirates for three years straight. If they never come back, I'd have no other wish."
The others nodded, murmuring about pirates. As expected, in the southeastern provinces, they were the greatest scourge.
Those words conjured late Goryeo's two root evils: tax-exempt private estates from multiple deeds, and the pirates. Both dire, but the pirates were catastrophic. Their raids ravaged everywhere—almost like the Imjin War misplaced in time—dragging on for nearly twenty years.
Yi Seong-gye rose as a national hero suppressing them. Though not as dire now as his peak campaigns. Park Wi's Tsushima conquest helped, and Japan's Nanboku-chō wars had just ended.
But next year, they'd surge again—likely displaced samurai and lords from the wars' end.
These farmers were the ones I had to protect.
"Keep up the good work, then."
"Thank you, sir. Come back anytime with questions—we'll tell you everything."
The garment earned me ongoing respect.
Exploring further, Dongnae's state exceeded expectations—more people, better lives than I'd thought. Probably because the pirate frenzy had ebbed.
After that, I drilled my soldiers in formations, preparing for the coming raids.
Come to think of it, Joseon would be founded soon. Right after, they'd appoint the crown prince? The court would erupt in chaos.
Best to hunker down here.
While Min Mu-jil trained his troops in Dongnae, in Kaesong, Jeong Chang-gun made a fateful decision and summoned Yi Bang-won.
"What is it, Your Highness?"
"I intend to ally with I Si-jung—that is, Yi Seong-gye."
Yi Bang-won blinked in confusion at the sudden proposal, but Jeong Chang-gun pressed on. Without Yi Seong-gye, neither he nor Goryeo could survive, he said—let them forge an eternal pact to protect one another for generations.
Yi Bang-won saw through it: even if real power went to the Yi clan, this was about preserving the hollow Goryeo royal house. He reported it to Yi Seong-gye immediately upon leaving the palace.
"Allies between sovereign and subject? Unheard of since antiquity. Desperate measures to cling to the last scraps of the dynasty."
"Yes, Father. That's the sense I got."
Scoffing, Yi Seong-gye summoned Bae Geuk-ryeom, Jeong Do-jeon, Jo Jun, and others, ordering them to extract a deposition decree from Queen Dowager Jeongbi An against Jeong Chang-gun.
They gathered all provincial officials and stormed her, bullying until she relented after repeated refusals. With Jeong Chang-gun deposed, they swiftly appointed Yi Seong-gye as Gamnok National Preceptor via her, commanding him to succeed the throne.
Then the civil and military officials, seal in hand, implored Yi Seong-gye to become king. He refused repeatedly, claiming unworthiness—a ritual show of humility following precedent.
After several demurrals, he accepted the seal, succeeding as Gamnok National Preceptor of Goryeo. On the seventeenth of July, he held his ascension ceremony at Suchang Palace and became king.
Thus ended Goryeo after 475 years and thirty-four rulers; a new dynasty dawned. Yi Seong-gye promptly set the country name as Joseon—officially retaining Goryeo externally until Ming investiture, but internally fixed as Joseon.
He began reshaping the realm's foundations. One day, he summoned all second-rank officials and above.
"You called for us, Your Highness?"
"Yes, sit."
Once seated, Yi Seong-gye announced,
"I've gathered you to appoint a crown prince."
"But the merits awards aren't finalized yet—shouldn't we settle that first?"
"The princes are holding it up, aren't they? Exclude them from merits."
"What do you mean?"
"They're already princes of noble station—no need for merits on top. Haven't I granted them military titles? At my age nearing sixty, I want to secure the succession swiftly."
"However..."
"Do as I say."
With Yi Seong-gye unyielding, the officials bowed.
"As you command."
"Thank you. Now, which prince do you think should be crown prince? Speak freely."
The officials split into two camps: those favoring Yeongan-gun Yi Bang-gwa, the de facto eldest who'd served valiantly on battlefields alongside Yi Seong-gye; and Jeongan-gun Yi Bang-won, top merit for slaying Jeong Mong-ju and founding Joseon.
Yi Seong-gye rejected both outright, displeased.
"Yeongan-gun excels at leading troops but lacks political acumen for crown prince. Jeongan-gun has talent, but slaying a kingdom's prime minister shows a lack of virtue—unfit."
Jeong Do-jeon ventured,
"Your Highness, then whom do you have in mind?"
"I plan to name Bang-seok."
The officials recoiled in shock. Jo Jun protested,
"Your Highness, not him."
"Why not?"
"With so many grown princes already, making the youngest crown prince risks future strife. In these early days, we need a capable heir to stabilize the chaos."
"Bang-seok is capable for his age. Strife? Why would naming the queen's son cause issues? I'm hale and hearty—what problem could there be?"
Jo Jun was dumbfounded. Yi Seong-gye had cited his age for haste, yet now claimed his health allowed a child heir. And after decrying Yeongan-gun's politics, how could a boy of barely ten be suitable? Jo Jun couldn't fathom it.
Many officials opposed, but Yi Seong-gye wouldn't budge. Then Queen Consort Gang's tearful voice echoed from beyond the door:
"Bang-seok is the son of this consort, your queen—why say he's unfit?"
The officials startled. Yi Seong-gye pressed,
"Do you see the queen as mere concubine? Is that why you oppose Bang-seok?"
They denied it vehemently.
"Perish the thought! We'd never harbor such disloyal notions!"
"Then you see no issue with naming Bang-seok crown prince?"
Unable to defy without impugning the queen's status, they acquiesced.
Yi Seong-gye smiled, satisfied. This was a scripted drama he'd orchestrated with Gang—pressuring officials by questioning if they slighted her as concubine, then proceeding.
Thus, Yi Bang-seok became Joseon's first crown prince, news spreading like wildfire. Yi Bang-won and the Min clan reeled in shock.