The Law of Conservation of Slaves
The cold heads worthy of those who once ruled half of the Central Plains. And the hot hearts unique to successful investors.
Equipped with both, the Jurchens proudly chose to participate in the "Aoji Raid: Just Need You to Start (1435/1436)" lobby. They packed their tools and headed toward Aoji, aiming for the moment when the Joseon army would be at its weakest.
Some moved inside the Tumen River, evading the Joseon army's surveillance. Others slowly gathered their forces outside the Tumen River. In pre-modern times, borders were never clean lines drawn on a map. After all, you couldn't draw a line hundreds of kilometers long, station guards everywhere, and check passports and visas every time someone crossed.
In this era, "governance" simply meant visiting occasionally to collect taxes and beating up anyone who got annoying. The state's control was weaker than that of the United States during the Wild West. In such a situation, did a strict border definition even carry the same meaning as it does in the 21st century?
There were the Jurchens of Hamgil Province, where Joseon's control existed only in scattered dots. There were the Jurchens across the Yalu River, who collected official titles and gifts from both Joseon and the Ming Dynasty. And there were the Jurchens who had always lived by crossing back and forth over the Yalu River, and still did.
These people, who had never really been distinguished from one another, all mingled together. Of course, the Jurchens were not a single, homogeneous group—just as "Asians" or "people of color" are not. They gathered and dispersed, united and clashed, according to their respective alliances and hostilities.
These were the ones who had been filtered and gathered. The ultimate survivors. Those who thought it would be splendid to give Aoji one last glorious raid, just as its reservoir was being built.
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They were the most respected and quick-witted members of the "Jurchen Ant Investment Group Chat." They knew how to read the political climate the fastest and move the quickest to secure a profit. Of course, they had a tendency to be lured by highly risky, speculative penny stocks, but those who had slipped up were already dead and buried anyway.
And every single one of those wise individuals thought:
We're ruined.
"I-I'm going to retreat—"
Thwack!
As soon as someone declared, "I'm cutting my losses for now," an axe struck his head from behind.
It meant: This bastard told us to HODL, and now he's backing out.
"Let's go! You are the descendants of the great Jin Dynasty!"
"Indeed! Though our nation fell to the Mongols, our spirit lives on!"
"Uwooooah!"
"We won't lose to Joseon!"
When someone else rallied them, saying, "In times like this, we must all pull together! Heave-ho, heave-ho!" replies of "Heave!" "Ho!" "Heave!" "Ho!" flooded in.
"We have to run...! I'm telling you, we have to run!! That fucking kid whom the man-killing tiger treats like his own son brought firearms with him...!!"
Of course, in moments like this, there is always someone who says, "Heave-ho my ass, I think we're all completely fucked."
Slash!
"Keu... klergh..."
The person who uttered those words was also swiftly kicked from the group. It wasn't that the others didn't know they were fucked; they just chose not to say it out loud. There were always idiots like this everywhere.
"Gather up! Move together!"
"Forget about looting! Focus on getting out alive!!"
To rebuild the momentum, a desperate, soul-stirring chant of "Heave-ho!" began. Hatred surged toward the institutions and foreigners (yes, the Joseon people were the "foreigners" to them).
They fired themselves up, declaring that only the retail "ants" could band together to survive.
Of course, even among them, there were those who were already quietly cutting their losses from the back. They carefully pulled their troops slightly to the rear, sending desperate glances toward Yi Jingok.
In fact, even those who seemed to be at the vanguard were exchanging subtle looks, discussing when they should slip away...
...All of this was plain as day to Yi Jingok.
Yi Jingok, Inc., having drawn his sword (a literal sword), ordered a shakeout of the retail investors.
Immediately, the Jurchen forces decreased by 20% compared to the previous day.
The cotton left behind by Spirit Hong-wi was quickly sent up to Hanyang. Of course, since the Minister of Rites had witnessed it with his own eyes, it had to be so. I heard that they had previously tried to grow cotton in the north and failed miserably. That was why this miracle was all the more important.
Of course, before sending it, Kim Jong-seo and other officials brought in people from all over to conduct something resembling an analysis. One might ask what the people of the north knew about cotton, but there was no need to worry. There were plenty of people who had been forcibly relocated from the southern provinces.
...What was my father thinking? Why did he voluntarily rush to a place like this?
Anyway, the most important thing was that this cotton could grow even in the northern frontier. Its fibers were long, it grew rapidly, and it was incredibly resilient. Of course, I had already heard all about it when Spirit Hong-wi bragged to me about bringing a superior seed.
No, that wasn't what was important right now.
"Dolbi? Is Spirit Hong-wi still not answering?"
When I whispered softly, Dolbi shook its head. Spirit Hong-wi had been silent for days. At some point, the connection had been abruptly cut. He had clearly beaten the 15% odds and hit the jackpot, and had been happily chattering away, bragging about this and that.
Without any reason. No, actually, I had a hunch. There was a message that had arrived back then.
"Indeed, it seems the luck of heaven is gathering around me! Thanks to you, Mr. An Heon, an opportunity to resolve a grudge held for over half a millennium has opened. How could I possibly spare my own body?"
...He was so full of confidence that he even used proper spacing and punctuation back then.
"Please wait. It seems that Greek broker has mended his ways, or perhaps he has come to trust me, because he is starting to offer me a very generous interest rate."
Even though there was no image file attached, I could picture it clearly. The tall, handsome boy thumping his chest and making grand promises.
"The milestone of 15 million viewers must not be far off. I will surely bring you good news, Mr. An Heon!"
I tried to stop him. A loan shark suddenly becoming kind to a boy who looked about high school age? And that young kid being filled with groundless confidence? It was a surefire sign of impending disaster.
"Mr. An Heon, with everyone's help, the energy of the world is gathering here! It will surely go well!"
But I couldn't stop him...
"And that was already... more than two months ago?"
...And this was the result. I imagined Spirit Hong-wi weeping as he pushed a boulder, with Sisyphus standing beside him asking philosophical questions like, "Do you know why humans shouldn't commit suicide?" I shook my head to clear the thought. It was only making me anxious.
Praying for Spirit Hong-wi's swift return, I turned my attention to the scene before me. Today, I stepped out of my thatched cottage for a special occasion. Since my parents' graves weren't far from the village, the entrance to the settlement soon came into view. It had now become quite a bustling and lively neighborhood.
A massive influx of resources and people had gathered nearby to build a new reservoir. I remembered when the news of building something new first broke. The villagers had been absolutely terrified. What if they were conscripted, couldn't tend to their farming, and froze to death? All their hard work up to that point would go to waste.
Fortunately, however, our royal court had a plan. Declaring that our villagers were already too busy farming the Filial Piety Wheat, they summoned people from other villages and soldiers instead. Since the primary purpose of the reservoir was to protect the Filial Piety Wheat in the first place, this was only right.
They also decided to build a new granary inside the reservoir's perimeter. On top of that, with three sets of commemorative portals and a commemorative pavilion to be erected, there wasn't a single quiet day in the village. Still, the villagers were happy. At least they wouldn't have to worry about dying sudden, tragic deaths anymore.
As I entered the village entrance, I could see the commemorative pavilion under active construction. While I waited in front of it, Jageun-i came running toward me.
"Young Master! Everyone is coming now! Geobi is gathering all the male and female servants!"
"Finally?"
"Yes! I've brought all the slave registers as well!"
Thud! A massive pile of documents was stacked inside the basket Jageun-i set down. Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from afar. I cleared my throat, feeling needlessly tense. I straightened my posture, but then stopped, realizing how silly it looked for a six-year-old to strike such a solemn pose.
In truth, all the preliminary paperwork had already been settled with the local government, making this ceremony technically redundant. Yet, my throat felt dry. The villagers flocking from over there—especially our family's slaves—all knew me, but for some reason, their movements were stiff.
Soon, everyone arrived. These were the people who had survived the harsh winter alongside me. Without them, I would have died long ago. A lump formed in my throat. I opened my mouth to speak.
"...I shall not speak long."
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"Thank you. I, Heon, the eldest grandson of the An family—this unworthy child—how could I have kept drawing breath until now without all of you? All of this is thanks to you. In truth, it is not I who earned the commemorative portal, but you. I will never, ever forget the grace you have shown me."
Speaking with the gravity of an adult in a six-year-old's voice felt somewhat comical. I had even stumbled slightly at the very end, despite practicing so much. Yet, not a single adult gathered here had an amused expression. I bowed deeply to them. In response, they hurriedly bowed back in return.
And straightening up, I took the ember that Geobi had brought over. I tossed it directly onto the pile of slave registers that Jageun-i had brought. As I mentioned, this was merely a performance to lift everyone's spirits. I had already discussed it with Kim Jong-seo, and these people had long since been freed from their slave status.
Even so, some burst into tears. Others patted them on the back. Everyone watched the pile of paper turn to ashes with heavy, emotional hearts. With only ashes remaining, I bowed once more and was about to leave when...
"Now, let us go. Your meal is ready, Young Master."
"Oh? Ah, yes, Jageun-i."
Jageun-i spoke. Geobi also approached.
"We've gathered all the firewood for you, Young Master. Where should we light it?"
"It's a bit unsafe near the cottage, so perhaps a bit further away..."
"Hey, everyone! Let's gather some people to help move the firewood!"
"Who's going to help move the Little Master's firewood?"
"I'll go this time. If we're going, we should all go together. The wild Jurchens have been quite vicious lately."
"My, this village has grown so much that we're actually worrying about the wild Jurchens now. It used to be a place where even the Jurchens would take pity on us and throw us a piece of meat."
"Quiet down and just serve our master well."
Huh? What... what was this? Something felt off. I felt as though something that should have changed hadn't changed at all... something incredibly important...
"Why is the Little Master acting like that?"
"I don't know. But shouldn't we call him 'Master' now that he's a scholar who received a commemorative portal from the King?"
"Oh, please. The Little Master is still our Little Master."
Still feeling a lingering sense of unease, I turned to follow as the people began to move. It was then. Clack. Clack-clack. Clatter. At the sound of galloping hooves, everyone hurriedly spun around. Jageun-i and Geobi, in perfect unison, grabbed my arms and lifted me up. Before I could even protest, the two of them bolted.
What? Already? Just as they mentioned the Jurchens being restless, they're already here? With that thought, I turned my head. But the moment I saw the flag raised high, I shouted:
"E-Everyone, stop!"
At my command, everyone stopped dead in their tracks as if by magic. I widened my eyes and read the characters written on the fluttering flags. ...They were flags one must absolutely not run away from. Before us, as we stood frozen, a figure approached on horseback, followed by a squad of soldiers.
"Is this the so-called Village of Filial Piety?"
Indeed, he was definitely someone you shouldn't run away from after seeing him.
"I see you must be An Heon. I am Yi Jingok, the Magistrate of Hoeryeong."
"I-I greet the Commander of Hoeryeong..."
"Are you afraid?"
But his appearance made me want to run away the instant I laid eyes on him. It wasn't just because the man looked like a walking weapon. It wasn't even because of his gaze, which looked capable of tearing a tiger apart with his bare hands and chewing on its raw liver. Amazingly, there was a separate reason why those terrifying traits seemed almost trivial.
But did he just ask if I was afraid? He's seriously asking that? Looking like that? ...With several severed human heads dangling from his saddle, did he honestly expect a six-year-old kid not to be terrified?
For the record, I wasn't the only one scared. Even in the 15th century, human lives weren't treated like flies. The villagers here had originally lived in the warm Gyeonggi Province. They, too, were completely frozen solid by this insane sight. The sight was so shocking that it was only after a moment that we noticed the people being dragged behind Yi Jingok and his soldiers, their hands bound tightly.
"Those people are..."
"As you can tell by their hairstyles, they are wild Jurchens."
"..."
"I heard there was a shortage of hands to build the reservoir here, so I brought them to serve as government slaves. I shall keep them under strict control, so no harm will come to this village."
"..."
"With that, I shall pass."
Having said only that, Yi Jingok marched past, dragging a large crowd of newly minted Jurchen government slaves behind him.
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Everyone's thoughts ground to a halt in sheer terror. Only long after Yi Jingok had passed did the villagers finally break their silence, making a massive fuss and trembling as they compared him to a man-eating demon. In my case, a sense of bitter irony was added to that fear.
I had just liberated dozens of slaves. And just now, dozens of new slaves had marched past.
...Is this how the total quantity of slaves in Joseon is conserved?