Chapter 15
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: It's a Royal Decree!
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From ancient times, it's said that a jagged stone gets the chisel.
The taller the tree, the stronger the wind.
He who would wear the crown must bear its weight.
Lucifer showing up at the school for Satans. This is gonna get interesting.
Or maybe not.
Anyway.
Kim Deok-su's province-wide aggro storm across the eight provinces of Joseon was more than enough to summon a Lucifer jealous of the tale starring those Satans.
"Why is this year's paper shop sales such a disaster? Paper shop manager! If you've got a mouth, then speak up!"
"W-Well... it's that Culinary Duel: Jang Geum from the Hanyang Merchant Guild that's the problem. All the local yangban have flocked to the Hanyang guild's paper editions, and rumors say they're buying up all their paper on the side too..."
"What nonsense is that? Didn't we copy Culinary Duel: Jang Geum ourselves and put it out? Even cheaper! Even better! At a loss!"
The merchant guilds from the other provinces were no slouches when it came to business savvy, so they quickly came up with countermeasures.
No such thing as copyright in this era, after all.
They disguised their identities, bought up Culinary Duel: Jang Geum from the Hanyang guild on the sly, hired scribes, and churned out hundreds of copies.
Embracing their position as latecomers, they differentiated by using higher-quality paper instead of the cheap stuff from Hanyang, and priced it even lower.
Merchants selling at a loss? Sounds unbelievable, but they're doing it for real right now.
So why! Why the hell won't sales recover?!
Under the province guild master's roar, the paper shop manager sweated bullets as he replied.
"It seems the First Reader Tokens are the issue... With one of those, you get the next volume for free, so everyone's sticking with Hanyang. And with so much of the initial print flooding the market back then, hardly anyone's buying books now. Books are easy—you can borrow them, and if push comes to shove, just copy the borrowed one..."
"Is that what a shop manager calls speaking sense right now? Then you should've brought a solution!"
Crash!
The cheap white porcelain vase on the desk flew off, expressing the province guild master's rage in his stead.
Gazing at the shattered remnants that had served their purpose, the Song province guild master thought.
'This is dangerous.'
He'd vented his anger, but the manager wasn't wrong.
As the man said, for books you can borrow or copy anytime, initial print volume is key to making money.
And those First Reader Tokens monopolizing that initial print? No matter how he racked his brain, there was no gap to squeeze into.
That money-grubbing ghost from Hanyang had struck gold this time.
But sitting idle and waiting out the storm wasn't an option.
It was a serial, after all. It'd keep coming next year, the year after...
If he didn't want the paper shop doors shut for good, he had to do something now.
After agonizing over it for a while, the Song province guild master pulled a sheet of paper from his drawer.
If he couldn't solve it himself, he'd borrow someone else's hand.
He took up his brush, wrote something at length, folded the paper neatly, and handed it to the cowering paper shop manager.
"Deliver this to Senior Councilor Yoon in Hanyang. I've included a bill of exchange, so don't go empty-handed—give it with that."
"Understood, guild master. Um... but."
"What now?"
The manager timidly spoke up after taking the paper.
"Well... this is a bribe for the councilor's household, right? Isn't the amount on the exchange a bit too small...?"
What an idiot.
The guild master bellowed.
"You fool! You think we're the only ones pissed about this book?! Once we open the floodgates, they'll handle the support!!"
"Heavens... how can this be."
Park Pangon, a scholar living in Baecheon, Hwanghae Province, let out a deep sigh as he stared at the ceiling.
Truth be told, his day hadn't been bad.
He'd studied the classics all morning, met friends in the afternoon to clear his head and chat, and as the sun set lonely in the sky, he'd headed to the pleasure quarters with them, wetting his lonely heart with a drink or two. Listening to the madam one friend brought along, laughing heartily with the lovely courtesans—this had been a full, enjoyable day worthy of a scholar's elegance.
The problem came after.
Staggering home drunk, Park Pangon felt a small lump boiling in his chest.
His gut twisted in pain, and the lump in his chest began venting hot fury.
Finally collapsing onto his room floor after reaching home, he realized the reason.
"Why that book of all things."
Culinary Duel: Jang Geum.
From the madam's tales, it was certainly entertaining.
The way it unpacked Neo-Confucian principles through Jang Geum's predicaments was brilliant, and unfolding the story via bizarre culinary duels was downright ingenious.
If he had to compare, it was just a tad below his own masterpiece, The Future of Joseon: Park Pangon, crafted from one of his family pillar roots.
So how.
Why on earth.
Did his masterpiece get slapped with a rejection sticker and sent back, while that Culinary Duel: Jang Geum trash got certified by the Bureau of Books and passed through the National Academy?
His masterpiece, packed with 5,700 characters of premium white paper outlining a grand plan for Joseon's future amid extraordinary events, was discarded. How could trash literature about cooking gain such popularity?
Utterly unjust.
As a yangban, he couldn't stomach such impropriety.
It had to be Senior Councilor Heo Yeop pulling strings with his clan's influence.
Springing from his seat to the desk, Park Pangon unleashed his pent-up rage without pause.
You must respect me, Park Pangon. I've won five times at the Baecheon Children's Era Contest, been selected seven times as an outstanding student at Baecheon's famed Ilwol Academy, and though Joseon's shoddy administration has kept me from passing the exam yet, I'll ace the highest honors soon. I've authored the masterpiece The Future of Joseon: Park Pangon... Read more
And so, the eight provinces' fury converged on Hanyang.
Hongmungwan's lounge. The Jade Hall.
The final stop for the eight provinces' fury.
Culinary Duel: Jang Geum came from Senior Councilor Heo Yeop's household, an Easterner.
So the countermeasure could only come from the Westerners.
After the morning regular audience, Westerners gathered at the Jade Hall as if by appointment.
Most of the assembled Westerners looked like they had something to say, lips twitching and eyes darting like puppies desperate to poop.
And soon enough, one brave man stepped forward.
Probably the one who'd taken the most bribes.
"Have you heard that Gourmet's Jang Geum story? In my view, it's rife with problems."
"Oh, even Senior Councilor Yoon knows."
"How could I not? The whole eight provinces of Joseon are talking about nothing else. Who knows where the world is headed with trash literature like that circulating."
"That bad?"
Truth be told, most already knew.
They'd all taken at least a spoonful, great or small.
And intending to earn their keep, they chimed in one by one.
"They say the Hanyang guild made a killing this time. I snuck a peek— even bribing the servants with fabric got refused."
"The provincial scholars are up in arms too. They spend all day reciting classics at desks, mulling Confucius's teachings without respite, yet their books get ignored while a mere five-year-old's scribbles get registered at the Bureau? Their disappointment must be immense."
"Hm, that bad? I thought it was fun."
"Tch! How can you miss the mood like that?!"
"What a pathetic fool! Don't you have any tact?!"
"That's why you get chewed out every day!"
"Uh... sorry."
A minor dissent from one who hadn't partaken was swiftly quashed by the many who had.
After everyone had their say, all eyes turned to the faction leader.
Yi I of Chestnut Valley.
The Westerners' idol, pillar, light, and vanguard.
It was his turn.
"Hm... even so, we're short on justification."
Of course, plenty of letters had reached Yi I too.
Not just from the guilds across the eight provinces, including Mansang, Yusang, and Nesaeng, but from countless scholar households he'd long been connected to—he knew exactly what they meant.
The problem? No justification, so he'd refused.
Hated to admit it, but Culinary Duel: Jang Geum was a novel that expounded benevolence, understood filial piety, and enacted loyalty.
It showed the royal path of hardship yielding to fortune, discerned the ethics of killing, and wove national pride into its theme—Joseon's prowess matching even the Ming behemoths.
Where to even nitpick a problem in such a work?
"Heavens, councilor. How can you say that."
But dust must be shaken off to appear.
Those yangban ruined by faction strife over the years—what grave sins had they committed?
Dragged to the Bureau of Investigation, force-fed a bowl of noodle soup through the nose, and suddenly innocence turns to guilt in this world.
And so the Western pentagon, forged in faction fires, brushed off their prepped dust.
"Culinary Duel: Jang Geum deals in male-female romance. 'No mingling of men and women past seven,' yet Heo Yeop's son is just five."
A petty, trivial mote, but enough to start the ball rolling.
"Look at the ingredients in that Golden Fried Chicken dish. Beans and chickens are precious resources in Joseon. Pouring oil for late-night lamps into a cauldron, slaughtering hens meant for eggs to enrich the home—how's the country supposed to function? We must ban such extravagance."
This had real meat. Stretch it hard enough, and it could stick.
Then the Jade Hall doors burst open as a man dashed in.
Sweat beading on his brow, catching his breath, he spoke.
"Councilor, huge sums of wealth are flowing into Heo Yeop's household right now."
"Wealth? What wealth?"
"What else? Profits from selling that Gourmet's Jang Geum or whatever."
Oh, this would work.
Confucius said profiting is dishonest.
A scholar at the top of farmers, artisans, merchants, colluding with lowly traders for gain? Twist it right, and it's a major scandal.
"Is that true?"
"Saw it with my own eyes. Hanyang guild hauling massive wealth straight to Heo Yeop's! Atmosphere was all chummy."
"Heavens, how can a yangban profit by selling his own son's writing? Tsk tsk, no shame at all!"
"Councilor! You must step up personally this time!"
Hearing the Westerners' clamor, Yi I finally nodded.
Pull the threads right, and they could push it through. No major crime, but enough flaw to halt sales.
"Very well. I'll submit a memorial to His Majesty myself."
Winter arrived, with snow falling several times.
New Year's Eve eve, just days from the new year.
A court edict came down to the Heo household.
"It's a royal decree!!!"
"Hear ye, third son Heo Gyun of the Grass Hall Heo clan of Yangcheon! His Majesty's command: By sashi hour today, enter the palace with your father, Grass Hall Heo Yeop, and attend the regular audience!"
"He commands you bring the next installment of Culinary Duel: Jang Geum—if not, make one up on the spot!"
What the hell.
Kneeling on the cold ground beside Father, I replied in a voice trembling with chill.
"We shall obey the command."