The Gambler of Hell
He took a deep breath, then exhaled. The King's breath added warmth to the summer day.
The King was in Geunjeongjeon. All the civil and military officials were lined up before him. They happened to be wearing sibok—casual court robes—to commemorate the memorial service of Queen Gyeongsun, the grandmother of King Taejo. A grand assembly of musicians and instruments had gathered, but they remained silent, merely holding their places. They were all waiting for the royal voice to fall, greeting this glorious moment.
Once again, Yi Do's fingertips trembled. The supreme ruler of this nation, as he had done for the past several decades, read the first line of the royal decree in a voice filled with majesty.
"Since ancient times, there has never been a monarch who did not hold the succession of the lineage in the highest regard."
Indeed. Succession was more critical than anything else. If one failed to secure an heir to perform ancestral rites and carry on the family legacy, what on earth would remain of the household? Not even the foundation stones would be left. Needless to say, this was infinitely truer for a child who would inherit the great succession of the nation.
"Any act of high treason or rebellion committed before the dawn of the twenty-third day of the seventh month of the sixth year of Zhengtong."
Crimes that shook the state and the royal family.
"Any descendant who conspires to murder, strikes, or insults their grandparents or parents; any wife or concubine who conspires to murder her husband; any slave who conspires to murder their master."
Crimes that violated the three bonds and five relations, betraying the heavenly laws.
"Any murder committed by poison or sorcery, and any act of robbery."
Crimes of taking human life through wicked means.
"Aside from these, all other offenses, whether already discovered or undiscovered, whether already decided or undecided, are hereby pardoned and erased."
Every other sin would become as light as a feather after this day.
"Anyone who dares to accuse or speak of matters prior to this decree of amnesty shall be punished for that very crime."
Because truly, such trivial matters were now of no consequence.
On this day, the Crown Princess Consort gave birth to the King's legitimate grandson—the Grand Heir who would inherit the great succession of the nation. Thus, the King issued a general amnesty today. Everyone, save for those guilty of the most heinous crimes, would share in the joy of this day.
Finally, the great work was accomplished. The endless prosperity of this dynasty shimmered before his eyes, along with the names of the ancestors that would shine for tens of thousands of years. He envisioned the boundless ages that would stretch through sons, grandsons, great-grandsons, great-great-grandsons, and generations beyond. Yi Do imagined a future where his and the Crown Prince's bloodline would continue forever and ever, a future where this nation would flourish in glory.
"To greatly expand the auspicious blessings of our grand destiny..."
Yi Do read down to the final sentence of the decree with boundless joy. It was just as his eyes reached the very end.
Thud.
Along with the sound of something falling, Geunjeongjeon grew slightly dimmer. Turning his head, he saw the palace servants hurriedly clearing away the fallen object. It was a candlestick.
Yi Do's smile faltered slightly. But it did not matter. It was merely a minor blemish on a sacred moment. After a few hours, who would remember something like a fallen candlestick?
With that thought, Yi Do concluded the ceremony.
And just a few hours later.
"...Your Majesty."
"..."
"At... at the Eastern Palace, the Crown Princess Consort..."
At the sudden voice of the eunuch, Yi Do recalled the fallen candlestick from earlier.
...That flickering light.
Into the midst of glory and blessing, dark clouds rushed in.
Shin Sukju suddenly recalled the memory of wearing the eosahwa—the paper flowers awarded to top exam graduates—and being surrounded by everyone's admiration. That moment felt like it was just yesterday.
The glory of that day when, as the jangwon graduate, he proudly faced his family again! On that day, even his wife could not hide her tears, and his mother let out laughter instead of sighs.
On that day, Shin Sukju was certain. Ah, from now on, everyone will respect and admire me. My previous shabby days are finally over.
He truly felt as if he had thought that just yesterday...
"Did you really not know?"
"..."
"No, I mean, how?"
"..."
...But not anymore.
This was the Jiphyeonjeon, inside the majestic palace. Having started his career brilliantly as the jangwon graduate, Shin Sukju had been dropped straight into this place. The Jiphyeonjeon was renowned as the gathering place for all the nation's talents favored by the King. What did this mean?
"Hey, you guys! Have you managed to get a copy of 'that'? I... I went to the Left State Councillor's residence yesterday and barely managed to read a few lines..."
"Shh."
"What's going on?"
"Quiet down!"
"Look over there, can't you see Beom-ong's face?"
In this Joseon, which always suffered from bureaucratic backlogs, all the new talents were gathered and mixed together here. Everyone gathered here was an outstanding scholar. There was no one who did not know of 'that'—the talk of the town.
When a colleague gave him a look, the scholar who had just entered belatedly noticed Shin Sukju's expression and shut his mouth. Only Shin Sukju remained completely dazed. Unable to watch any longer, someone stepped forward cautiously.
"Beom-ong, are you alright?"
"Th-that... that rotten disciple of mine..."
"..."
Everyone was at a loss for words. Meanwhile, Shin Sukju, still out of his mind, muttered to himself.
"How could that... that disciple of mine... not show even a single glimpse of it to his teacher?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"I... I had absolutely no idea about it, I didn't even know..."
"That" which the scholars were excitedly discussing, and which Shin Sukju was blankly claiming to know nothing about. The people had named it Seonghakmanryu-jipyo. A book that fabricated fictional scholars and academic lineages, drawing out dozens of different theories and commenting on each of them.
People said that the sheer vastness of its scope far surpassed even the Seongni Daejeon. Of course, in terms of sheer volume and meticulousness, it could not compare. After all, its name, Jipyo, literally meant "collected and summarized." How could a single person match a grand compendium encompassing the theories of the Song and Yuan dynasties, compiled by the Yongle Emperor with dozens of scholars? It was physically impossible.
And by physically impossible, it meant that there wasn't even that much paper in Aoji in the first place. This was Aoji, after all.
However, in terms of "vastness" alone, it had surpassed it. In fact, a similar book already existed: the Geunsarok, which organized the currents of Neo-Confucianism from Zhou Dunyi to Cheng Yi and explained them in connection with the problems of life. It was the work of Zhu Xi, the great synthesizer of Neo-Confucianism. That, too, was the result of summarizing the major academic lineages of nearly a century.
However, the Jipyo was a work achieved through the contemplation of just a single person. An Heon, the seven-year-old sage. The very disciple Shin Sukju had been boasting about so much.
...Who had hidden its very existence from Shin Sukju, only to distribute it to Kim Jong-seo and Grand Prince Anpyeong.
If An Heon heard this, he would feel deeply wronged. From An Heon's perspective, that "nuclear bomb" was never meant to be revealed to the world. It wasn't as if An Heon had some grand ambition and decided to release this ultimate secret book of the realm. With the royal son-in-law visiting, a royal marriage looming, and finally a prince coming to play, he had simply lost half his mind and thrown it out in desperation.
It was just a text he had written for his own eyes, merely edited so it wouldn't look too strange if others discovered it. He had simply unleashed it when both his plans and his mental state were shattered.
Of course, the Confucian scholars of Joseon had no way of knowing this.
"Wicked boy, bad boy, a disciple who betrayed his teacher, th-th-heartless boy..."
And that was why Shin Sukju was like this now.
"D-damn disciple. How could he do this to me? We were so close, spending time together, seeing each other at our absolute worst..."
"Hey. How much longer are you going to keep this up?"
Hearing such grumbling for two whole hours was bound to irritate anyone. When someone finally took the initiative and threw out a word, Shin Sukju's neck snapped like a rusty machine to stare at him. Everyone flinched at the sight.
"..."
"I... I mean, how did you not know? Did you really not know at all?"
"Indeed."
"Your disciple, who is supposedly so close to you—no, your esteemed disciple—didn't say a single word?"
"Indeed."
"Then what is 'that' which you keep deeply enshrined in your house and cherish so much?"
At those words, Shin Sukju creaked like a broken machine for a moment before outputting a voice in a distorted tone.
"Dang... qui."
Though there were thousands of dangqui roots in the world, no one here was ignorant of what that meant. It was the very dangqui that heaven had bestowed upon the filial son of Aoji.
"And he didn't say a single word to the teacher he trusted enough to leave such a thing with?"
"Did you perhaps commit some grave error against him?"
He didn't know. Shin Sukju had absolutely no idea. Why did he only find out about the book's existence after it became the talk of the town? Why had his disciple remained silent to him? He wanted to read it too. But he couldn't bring himself to write a letter to his disciple first. His pride was too wounded for that. To hang onto a green, youthful disciple after being so coldly cast aside—how could he not feel ashamed?
Shin Sukju soon bowed his head to his colleagues.
"I... I am sorry. You must all be busy. I will make sure not to disturb you."
"Right. Then I shall return to..."
"Heartless bastard, a fellow who knows nothing of benevolence and righteousness..."
"..."
Indeed, they were very busy right now. They had to write congratulatory addresses to the King and everyone else in all directions to celebrate the birth of the Grand Heir. And those texts had to be written by the low-ranking scholars like them. Thus, the scholars of the Jiphyeonjeon were just about to decide to get used to the white noise emanating from Shin Sukju.
Creak.
Suddenly, the main gate of the Jiphyeonjeon opened. Someone was hurriedly approaching the pavilion. When the scholars looked outside, they saw a eunuch. The eunuch's face was drenched in sweat, and his pale complexion naturally evoked an ominous feeling. It wasn't sweat from the summer heat. It was cold sweat.
The eunuch opened the door, scanned the scholars, and immediately spoke.
"Everyone... you must prepare yourselves immediately."
"What is the matter?"
"..."
The eunuch looked as if something was caught in his throat. He couldn't speak for a moment, as if a fishbone were piercing his esophagus. Something was going terribly wrong. And everyone realized exactly what was going wrong.
Today was an auspicious day. It was the day the Crown Princess Consort gave birth to the Grand Heir. And in the 15th century, maternal mortality was all too common. As those two facts collided, the worst-case scenario assembled itself in the scholars' minds.
"...The Crown Princess Consort is in critical condition."
The worst-case scenario was confirmed. Everyone froze in place. The somewhat noisy and lighthearted atmosphere from just moments ago vanished as if it had been a lie.
"..."
Shin Sukju was no different from the rest. For a moment, he even forgot to breathe. The Crown Princess Consort was critically ill. She might pass away. If she died, there was no telling what political upheaval would follow. As these facts registered, his thoughts about his disciple and his book were instantly wiped away.
In their place, uncertainty filled the void. A dark cloud of anxiety suddenly cast a shadow over the future of the dynasty. Who would be the new Crown Princess Consort? No, now that the Grand Heir was born, would the King and the Crown Prince even bring in a new consort? How would the royal court fluctuate? And how would the strings connected to it shake, move, and snap?
F-first of all, his heart was pounding so hard he felt like he was going crazy. Shin Sukju unconsciously clutched his chest.
"..."
Suddenly, he realized something. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say he recalled it. It was when his beloved disciple, An Heon, was leaving Hanyang.
"Even among those who call themselves scholars, there were many who coveted this."
"..."
"If this child were to lose his parents' keepsake on his way back to his hometown, how great a filial impiety would that be?"
The disciple who had never failed to be his pride had entrusted him with "something." The very thing his colleagues had mentioned earlier. The dangqui. The dangqui bestowed upon the child by his deceased parents. Shin Sukju had seen it with his own eyes—the purple flower blooming by the grave where nothing else grew. That miraculous herb.
Shin Sukju always told those around him that he kept it safely stored in the deepest part of his house. That it was kept in the most secure place in the world, and that he had never let it out of his sight for a single moment.
He had not lied. Every man's true home is his own body. And Shin Sukju had never once let that dangqui leave his person.
His security was absolute. While thieves were caught and beaten half to death searching the corners of his house, no one knew where the real dangqui was. It was a basic deception tactic. Military treatises were indeed highly beneficial to the gentry. Although, for the sake of perfect security, he had to sleep hugging this dangqui instead of his wife. Thanks to that, he had almost been beaten alongside the thieves, but even so, Shin Sukju had not compromised his integrity. Even until now.
Which meant...
"H-hey."
"Scribe Shin? Why do you call me?"
...It was still in his bosom right now.
When Shin Sukju grabbed the eunuch's wrist, the eunuch flinched and tried to pull his arm away. But Shin Sukju gripped it even tighter and said, "Take me there. Immediately."
"What on earth..."
With everyone staring at him, Shin Sukju closed his eyes once more and recalled the last words his disciple had left him before leaving Hanyang.
"If this child were to lose his parents' keepsake on his way back to his hometown, how great a filial impiety would that be?"
Hmm. Was that really all? Of course not. Thinking about it, there was no way his wise and filial disciple wouldn't have worried about the nation. Shin Sukju peered "more closely" into his own memory. Others might say, Is that guy manipulating his own memory in real-time? but that was only because they viewed it through the distorted lens of petty men. Shin Sukju had merely replaced his memory with a "more accurate version."
"If this child were to lose his parents' keepsake... meaninglessly... on his way back to his hometown, how great a filial impiety would that be?"
Huuuum. Still not enough. It felt like "something" was still missing... He needed to spice it up a bit more...
"If... I were to lose my parents' keepsake meaninglessly... without even being able to use it for a righteous cause..."
"...There will surely be a great crisis in the state, and the only one who can put this to worthy use is my teacher..."
Ah, yes. Surely, his wise disciple must have said something like that. He had entrusted it to the only teacher he trusted among all the scholars in the world, telling him to bring it out when a crisis befell the state. For a day like today.
When he opened his eyes, Shin Sukju had finally recovered his "complete memory." The moral dilemma of whether he could arbitrarily use his disciple's parental keepsake was also resolved.
Ah. Please forgive this foolish teacher. You entrusted me with a root that is like your own flesh and bone, yet I was childishly sulking. All of it was for this very moment.
When Shin Sukju pulled out the miraculous dangqui, the flower, which still retained its vitality, shimmered with a deep purple hue. Even after several years, the flower was still alive.
The mouths of the eunuch and everyone else fell open. No one demanded an explanation for that dangqui.
"...The Hyoja-geun?"
There was no need for that.
"Lead the way."
"Wh-where should we go..."
Shin Sukju barely managed to steady his trembling voice as he spoke to the eunuch, who was frozen in shock.
"To the Eastern Palace...!"
It had to be right now.
Soon, they were sprinting across the heart of the deep palace. They ran as if they would drop dead on the spot if they stopped. Shin Sukju nearly threw up and collapsed several times, even tripping along the way. Yet, he rolled to the side to prevent the herb from being damaged. Various gates, walls, royal guards, and officials blocked their path, but they barely managed to pass through as the eunuch screamed out explanations.
Thus, Shin Sukju reached his destination. Jaseondang of the Eastern Palace. The place where the Crown Princess Consort was dying.
"What is a scholar of the Jiphyeonjeon doing here? The King's anxiety is immense, so how dare you...!"
"Th-this is the Hyoja-geun!"
"..."
"..."
"..."
Seeing the guards instantly step aside at those words, Shin Sukju realized. Ah, the situation is so dire that they are letting me straight in just because I brought some mysterious herb.
"What is the condition of the Crown Princess Consort?"
"...She cannot swallow any medicine."
"..."
"Y-Your Highness, there is nothing we can do. Her limbs have grown cold due to hyeolbung—postpartum hemorrhage—but heat is rising to her head and torso..."
Only then did a certain fact flash through Shin Sukju's mind. Did they just say hyeolbung? ...But dangqui rootlets are poison for that!
"Your Highness, Shin Sukju, a Scribe of the Jiphyeonjeon, has brought a medicine."
"A medicine, you say?"
"It... it is said to be the Hyoja-geun."
"What... did you say?"
...Even if it was bestowed by his parents and the gods of heaven and earth, what if its medicinal effect is just that of a normal dangqui?
"Bring him in."
"Yes. Shin Sukju, enter."
"..."
"The Crown Prince calls for you, why do you not enter immediately!"
...Using a medicine that accelerates blood circulation when her limbs are cold from blood loss? What if that makes the Crown Princess Consort pass away even faster? Then won't he have to follow her to the grave? He'll be branded a traitor and won't even get ancestral offerings! And even if she survives, won't he be 'wrongfully' accused of being an absolute scoundrel who sold out his disciple's parental inheritance?
"Bring it forward."
"..."
In that state, he stood before the noble figure. Now was the moment of decision. Shin Sukju made up his mind.
"Yes, Your Highness. This... is indeed the Hyoja-geun!"
...Surely it will be fine? Since it's a miraculous herb, won't it save a dying person regardless? No. It definitely will. Heon's parents will surely save the Crown Princess Consort and save their son's teacher as well. They must have been good people.
Shin Sukju trusted his disciple and bet his life. If he failed, his entire clan would be exterminated, and that would be that.
Hmm. Another quiet and peaceful day in Aoji.
Looking at the fish traps teeming with fish along the Tumen River, I was reminded of the days when Grand Prince Anpyeong and An Gyeon used to run around here. This place was surprisingly a golden fishing ground. Perhaps it was because it was right where the river met the sea.
Now that the northern frontier had stabilized a bit, the Joseon soldiers could catch and sell fish here without a care in the world. Then, we would buy those fish, salt and dry them, and sell them back to the nearby military garrisons. It was quite a lucrative business. Our entire Aoji community was benefiting from it.
Aside from that, there were many thriving businesses in Aoji. The most prominent was the Ahn-style wheat, the "Filial Piety Wheat." At first, I was going to send the wheat grains as they were, but Kim Jong-seo ran out barefoot to stop me. He said we couldn't let the wheat seeds spread to the Jurchens. So we ground it into flour and supplied it to the garrisons, but on humid days, it clumped up.
Wondering what to do... I came up with the noodle business. Dried noodles, to be exact. Now, with seed security maintained and both transport and storage made easy, our noodles were responsible for feeding the nearby soldiers. Conversely, as the business grew, rumors spread to the south, and every visitor started buying them.
While the fish salting and noodle manufacturing were going well, we ran into a salt shortage. It was hard to get salt in this area, which was a worry.
Ah, no. Now was not the time to think about that. Right now, I had to worry about the "nuclear bomb."
It had been quite a while since I hastily put together that "nuclear bomb" and handed it over to Grand Prince Anpyeong and Kim Jong-seo. Has it been a little under three months? If so, all of Hanyang must be in an uproar by now. Even Grand Prince Anpyeong had babbled about "Master Ahn" back then.
Was... was that the right choice? Maybe it would have been better to just go all-in on building my power as the royal son-in-law? Being treated like a living sage carried immense risks, and I'd have to keep an eye on things outside Joseon as well. All sorts of other dangers and anxieties would multiply exponentially. Was it right to do this...
Stop. Stop regretting and agonizing over it. The die has been cast, and the Rubicon has been crossed. Whining to myself won't change a thing. My choice was the best one. It was the only way to carve out a path of survival in the worst-case scenario of being designated as the royal son-in-law. Yes. That was it. If the death of Crown Princess Consort Kwon was a constant, then this was the only way.
I nodded to myself, finally convincing myself. Yes. Now, at a massive cost, I have become a Confucian sage. Since the Crown Princess Consort will die and my path to office will be blocked anyway, this is better.
Pitter-patter-patter!
Just as I was finishing my mental victory, I heard footsteps. Turning around, I saw Jageun-i running toward me in a flurry, dragging her skirt.
"M-Master!"
"Huh? Why are you running all of a sudden..."
"A message has arrived!"
With those words, a letter was thrust into my arms. Looking at the cover, I saw a familiar handwriting with my name and other details. It was my teacher's handwriting.
Don't tell me he's sulking because I didn't tell him about the nuclear bomb beforehand? Yep. It's probably filled with complaints. I know his personality all too well. With that thought, I opened the letter.
I am sorry.
I used the root.
...What?
...This motherfucker?