The Ginseng Digger of Mount Wandalsan
"The conditions are quite demanding."
Jo Seong-sik, the Manho (military commander) of Yudeungpo under the Hamgyong Province Yukjin (Six Garrisons), was suffering from a splitting headache due to the orders that had arrived from above. I-i-je-i (using barbarians to control barbarians) and I-dok-je-dok (using poison to fight poison). On the surface, it sounded like a wise and ingenious strategy, but looking at the reality, it was an impossible task. What kind of people were the Jurchen?
They were ingrates who had repaid the immense grace received since the days of King Taejo with plunder and murder. To one's face, they would spew sweet talk—claiming they were hungry, that they respected the Joseon court, and that they wanted to trade—but behind one's back, they were savages who eyed Joseon land with greed and invaded at every opportunity. They were like hungry ghosts, constantly engaging in fratricidal wars and bickering among themselves. How could one trust such people, let alone bring them in as allies and support their power?
Of course, considering those factors, the command had prepared a few requirements. First, the individual must have no ties to the wild Jurchen tribes bordering Joseon and must be from the Jianzhou or Haixi Jurchen, who were hostile to them. Second, they must be a minor force, small enough to feel gratitude for even the slightest support. Third, despite their humble status, they must possess the legitimacy within the Jurchen tribes to unite them and lead an army if the situation demanded it.
But where am I supposed to find such a guy?
Damn those bureaucrats at the top. They think everything is just words. It’s because of those desk-bound Zhuge Liangs that the people below suffer. Ptui!
"Tsk, they're hounding me to find someone as soon as possible."
But what could he do? When you're ordered to dig, you dig. Jo Seong-sik, who had been born in Hamgyong Province and lived his whole life rubbing shoulders with the Jurchen, was currently mobilizing every connection he had to carry out the order.
"Hey! Is there still no news from the Chetam-in (spies) we planted among the Jurchen?"
"Yes, sir. There is no word yet."
"If you hear anything, find me regardless of the hour. We don't have time."
"Understood, Manho-nim."
As the adjutant's voice faded outside, Jo Seong-sik sat down and closed his eyes. He needed to rest, even if just for a moment. Sighing deeply with tired eyes, he muttered to himself.
"I just hope there's someone worth using out there."
Mount Wandalsan, located in the Zhangguangcai Mountains to the east of Manchuria. It was a famous mountain known since ancient times for producing the highest quality wild ginseng, but it was also a cursed mountain, notorious for the packs of tigers that preyed on the simmani (ginseng diggers) who came to harvest it. And today, a group of ginseng diggers, risking their lives, was climbing the treacherous slopes of Mount Wandalsan in pursuit of a fortune.
"Young Master, are we going deeper?"
"The herbs we found today won't even feed the family. We need to fill at least one full basket. Do you want to starve?"
They had been working since dawn, and even now, with the sun high in the sky, they hadn't been able to straighten their backs once. Yet, they were still far short. They had nothing to their names, and with twelve mouths to feed and house, no matter how much they dug, it was never enough. The man who appeared to be the leader of the group stepped forward into the dark, dense forest.
"Listen up, we don't know this area, so keep your guard up."
"Yes, Young Master!"
Just once. That’s all I need. Just one legendary wild ginseng. If I can just make enough money to buy horses and weapons for our twelve family members, this pathetic life as a ginseng digger will be over. Oh, Mountain Lord, please don't appear before us until then, and go hunt a delicious wild boar instead.
As the man walked, praying for safety, he soon found a suitable spot and raised his hoe and basket.
"This place looks good. It's a herb patch."
"There's some decent arrowroot here. And quite a few mushrooms, too."
"Phew, I thought we’d come up empty-handed, but we finally found something."
"Shh, keep your voices down, beasts might be nearby. Let's just finish up here and head down."
"Yes, Young Master."
The group immediately sat on the ground and began gathering the herbs scattered everywhere. They couldn't find the ginseng they so desperately wanted, but they found large arrowroot, gastrodia, straight-growing chrysanthemum, angelica, and even moist sweet flag and plantain. This was enough to provide meat for his family tonight. Once they descended, he would go to the market, buy some horse meat, and drink a bowl of strong takju (rice wine). He would grill the horse meat with warm grain rice to nourish his wife waiting at home, and he would hold a drinking party with his family who had trusted and followed him.
Just as he was happily digging, dreaming of that future, a voice shattered his mood.
"Ah, I stepped in dung."
"What kind of idiot talks about dung while I'm thinking about dinner?"
"No, I really stepped in it! It's huge, too. Young Master, I don't think this came from any ordinary animal."
"What? How big is it?"
The man ran to where the voice came from and confirmed the large pile of dung swarming with flies. It was massive. It wasn't an ordinary beast. A wild boar? Damn, it’s too big to be a boar. It couldn't be... The man clutched his shrinking heart and spoke to the group gathering beside him.
"We're screwed. Everyone, check the surrounding trees."
"I checked already, and I think we're done for. Look over there."
"Where? Ah..."
Following the pointed finger, he saw a massive tree reaching toward the sky. Deep claw marks were gouged vertically into the trunk, higher than his chest. The bark was shredded to ribbons. It was the Mountain Lord. Seeing the dung and the marks left on the tree, it meant they were standing inside the tiger's maw.
"Tsk, I thought our luck was good today, but it ends like this. We're running, now. Everyone, draw your bows."
"Yes!"
"Understood."
The group drew the bows from their backs and moved step by step, carefully watching their surroundings. It was a time of silence, where nothing could be heard except the sound of dry throats swallowing and the crunch of leaves underfoot. How far had they gone? Suddenly, a roar that pierced their hearts struck their ears.
"GRRRRRR!!!!"
"We're dead! Run!!!"
"YES!!!!"
The group tumbled down the rugged mountain without even catching their breath. Their bodies ached as if they had rolled and broken something, but it was better than entering the tiger's mouth. The bows they held had been tossed aside long ago, and many had even thrown away the baskets they cherished like their own lives. By the time they barely escaped the Mountain Lord's territory, all that remained were piles of spoiled herbs they couldn't even sell and deep wounds that would keep them bedridden for days.
"Phew... why is life like this?"
They had truly come up empty today. What would he tell his wife? To treat the kids, buy new bows, and replace the hoes and baskets... would he have to sell the last horse they had? He should be riding a massive steed and commanding the Manchurian plains, yet here he was, digging herbs and stepping in beast dung. Why was his life so treacherous?
Sighing deeply and supporting each other, they arrived home just as the sun set and the dark night arrived. He couldn't bring himself to step over the threshold, ashamed to face the family who had been waiting for them all day while starving. But what could he do? He had to go inside. Just as he took a step, a voice called out to him.
"Why are you so late? I've been waiting."
"Oh...? Tumen-eoreusin?"
"Have you been well? No, looking at you, it seems you haven't. Is your body alright? Why are you so battered?"
"Well... something happened. But what brings you here, Eoreusin?"
"My friend, why else would I come looking for you?"
"Could it be..."
It was an unexpected guest. At the appearance of the big shot who held the connections between Ming, Joseon, and the Jianzhou Jurchen, the man folded his hands respectfully. Could it be that a position has opened up in Liaodong? Is the effect of the horse I gave as a bribe finally paying off?
"Is there a position open under Li Chengliang?"
"No, that's not it."
After scanning the man up and down with a piercing gaze, Tumen nodded and said.
"I have an offer you cannot refuse."
"The 6th-generation descendant of Mentemu?"
"Yes, I conducted a background check, and he is the perfect fit for the conditions we desire. Please, look at this."
Yi I took the letter handed over by Jo Seong-sik and read it immediately.
"Hoo, what a pitiful man."
He lost his birth mother at the age of nine and suffered abuse from his stepmother until he moved out at eighteen. Even then, he didn't receive his rightful inheritance, and all he had to support twelve family members were two horses and four cows. A descendant of a prestigious family who once received an official rank from King Taejo, now reduced to a ginseng digger climbing mountains? Where on earth did he find such a perfect talent?
Finishing the letter, Yi I slammed his desk and shouted.
"This is it. I must meet him immediately. Where is he?"
"I cleared out an inn in Yudeungpo to provide a place for his family to rest. He said he would come straight here after finishing his preparations, so he should be here soon."
"Good, you've worked hard as well. Come, let's have some tea while we wait."
"Yes, Daegam."
As they sipped tea and waited for the man, the door opened before long, and a man strode in. He had a sturdy build, sharp eyes, large ears, a long face, and a large, straight nose. The man immediately prostrated himself before Yi I and said.
"I am Aisin Gioro Nurhaci. If you will accept me, I will devote my loyalty to you and Joseon."