Why Do You Think You Have a Choice?
The long... Q&A session was finally over. How long had it been? Two and a half double-hours. In other words, five hours. I had never experienced a five-hour non-stop meeting in this life. Maybe back in my past life, during my dormitory days when I was utterly obsessed with studying, I might have done something similar. To make matters worse, we had met just as the sun was about to set, and now it was the dead of night. And who did I pull this stunt with? The King and the Crown Prince. This is insane. My mind was still spinning when the Crown Prince spoke to me.
"How do you feel?"
...How do you think I feel? For the record, this was my very first time meeting the Crown Prince. But because his father had been throwing hundreds of verbal hooks and jabs at me, I hadn't even been able to look at him properly. Only now did I cautiously steal a glance at the Crown Prince's appearance. Since they had both told me to lift my head earlier, it was fine to look. Munjong. Several historical dramas immediately came to mind. After all, he was quite a popular historical figure in the twenty-first century. A tragic young king who showed brilliant promise even before ascending the throne, only to meet an early grave... But wait, why does he look like a human weapon?
The sight before my eyes clashed violently with my prior knowledge, causing a massive system error against decades of public perception and propaganda. Historically, unlike the "strong and martial King Sejo," Munjong was supposed to be "weak, frail, and swayed by his ministers." So why was a lean, un-fattened clone of Yi Seong-gye sitting right in front of me? (The chubby clone was sitting right next to him.) Seriously, his physique looked like he could beat several men to death with his bare hands, which only made me more nervous. Even his question, "How do you feel?" sounded more like, "Do I have a reason to let you live?"
"I feel quite uneasy, as though we have overworked the benefactor who saved the Crown Princess."
Ah, of course not. Right. I had forgotten. I saved this man's wife. There was no way he meant it like that. In fact, the Crown Prince's intention really did seem to be to help me, judging by how the King was glancing at him. The King, sensing his son's mood, nodded with an expression that showed absolutely zero, zilch, not a single shred of genuine empathy.
"Indeed. I have kept the royal family's benefactor for far too long."
Of course, his eyes were still brimming with lingering regret. Bowing my head out of polite courtesy, I replied.
"Not at all, Your Majesty. It is a supreme honor for this humble subject, whose scholarship is still lacking, to be granted the opportunity to discuss the principles of the sacred teachings with you."
"Is that so? I, too, found it highly enjoyable."
"..."
...Please, stop looking at me like that. It's too much to take a polite formality as an opening and pounce on it like a predator.
"It was truly a magnificent discussion. I see now that the reputation of An Heon, the Sage of the Northeast, is well-deserved." At least Yi Do seemed to be wrapping up the conversation, showing a final shred of conscience.
"However, I see some gaps."
Prediction failed. Cause of failure: mistakenly assuming the King possessed a conscience. For a split second, my poker face almost shattered. I barely managed to maintain my composure and listened to the King.
"By gaps, I do not mean logical contradictions. After all, is Jibyo not a book that constructs various academic lineages and pits them against one another?" I detected a flash of fanatical ecstasy on Yi Do's face.
"Yet, the arguments of those lineages contain voids, as if they were hastily summarized. That must be why people call it Jibyo, meaning 'The Essentials.'"
...Still, I had to admire him. As expected of King Sejong. He caught the defining characteristic of my writing after just one conversation. Of course there were gaps. It literally was a summary. Without dragging out the argument any further, I answered immediately.
"Your Majesty's wisdom truly illuminates the truth. It is exactly as you say. How could there not be many voids in the contemplations of a young orphan in a remote village, who had to scrape together scarce paper and ink while facing a wall in solitude?"
I went with the Fermat's Last Theorem strategy. To put it simply: 'I didn't have enough paper to write it all down.' So now...
"Then! Would it not be best to write it in a place where paper is abundant and there are many scholars to contemplate alongside you?"
Ah. Wait, what? I hurriedly turned to the Crown Prince. Save me just one more time, Your Highness.
"My royal father's words are profoundly wise! If a sage has emerged but cannot realize his ambitions simply because he lacks resources and comrades, how could that not be a disgrace to our nation?"
Ah. You're in on it too. I've been played. Caught in the good cop, bad cop routine of this exploitative father-son duo promoting child labor, I almost crumbled. But no, I can't. Not yet. Even if my grand strategy has been utterly shattered and reduced to rags, I must preserve its core.
What was the core of my "Sage Strategy," which I had designed while anticipating a Neo-Confucian nuclear apocalypse? Academic lineage. If I couldn't enter central politics, I would stay far away from Hanyang, build a vast network of disciples, and exert influence from behind the scenes. That way, even if I couldn't hold office, my academic authority alone would be enough to prevent the worst-case scenario. Although the Crown Princess's survival had removed my "unable to hold office" handicap, the principle remained the same. I had already dropped the nuke. Now that everyone was exposed to the fallout, I had to extract the maximum possible benefit.
If I entered the royal court right now, political interests would inevitably create "enemies" and "opponents" for me. Then, all my effort in dropping that academic nuke would go to waste; my authority would only hold sway within my own faction, not across all of Joseon. My opponents would simply reject my authority. While that might happen eventually, it couldn't be now. I had to expand my academic lineage and build my power base outside the court as much as possible first. I needed at least a few more years before entering the court—only after the lineage tracing back to me had firmly established itself.
Enter office right now? Absolutely not. Even if only to make the nuke worth it, I would hold my ground even if it meant crying tears of blood. I will not set a precedent for child exploitation in this cold land of Joseon. I carry such a noble cause on my shoulders. Fueled by this sense of duty, I cranked my brain to its absolute limit.
"It is said that a scholar harboring a great cause rejoices in staying in the capital. Would you not feel the same?"
"Your words are indeed correct, but this subject cannot yet comply."
"..."
"..."
Instantly, the wicked father-son duo began blasting me with their "How Dare You" beams. If I don't find a countermeasure to those beams right now, I will be sealed away in the Jiphyeonjeon, cursed never to emerge again.
"I am overwhelmed by Your Majesty's grace. However, this humble subject has unfinished business in his hometown."
"You have already been diligent in performing the ancestral rites for your parents. If you are worried about tending to your family's rites, I shall send my own people to handle them."
A ruthless verbal low blow, basically asking where an orphan with no living parents thought he was going. Fortunately, however, I had found a countermeasure.
"I dare to ask Your Majesty a question."
"Speak."
"What would happen if I were to devote myself to my next work after Jibyo here in Hanyang?" I jabbed before the King could even speak. "Would Your Majesty truly refrain from summoning me while I am writing?"
Could you really resist summoning me? With a sage right under your nose, are you telling me you wouldn't call me in periodically to play mind games like today? If a sage is living just across the street, are you really not going to summon him to solve your problems whenever you hit a roadblock? Can you honestly promise that?
The breathing of both the King and the Crown Prince stopped simultaneously. As I waited for an answer, the King finally opened his mouth.
"...Of course. How could I disturb a scholar so devoted to his studies?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
I had never heard such an unconfident voice in my entire life. So, I drove the point home once more.
"If Your Majesty's royal resolve is truly that firm, I shall comply."
Really?
"...Royal Father, might the bustling clamor of Hanyang not cloud the pristine mind of a sage?"
Uh... maybe not.
"...Upon reflection, I believe the Crown Prince is correct."
Yeah, definitely not.
Hearing that, I took a deep breath. Then, I offered a benevolent, wise, and perfectly serene smile befitting "An Heon, the sage who achieved adulthood at eleven." The King and the Crown Prince smiled back. Looking at them, I couldn't help but think:
Holy shit, I barely survived. That was a close one. Those crazy bastards... No, poker face, keep the poker face.
And thus, a grand national consensus regarding my return home was reached.
"However, you must take the Saengwon and Jinsa exams before you go. A special civil service exam will soon be held to celebrate the birth of the royal grandson and the miraculous survival of the Crown Princess."
This was something even I could agree to.
"And how long will this writing take you?"
If I asked for too much time here, the agreement would obviously be voided. I decided to test the waters.
"In Your Majesty's brilliant wisdom, which do you deem more urgent: filling the gaps in Jibyo, or introducing entirely new concepts...?"
"Just fill the gaps."
The King answered before I could even finish my sentence. Looking at his eyes, they seemed almost pleadingly desperate. ...Right. He was basically saying he'd die if he got hit by another academic nuke. Message received loud and clear.
"Then, how long..."
"Return in two years."
"..."
"..."
"...I shall obey."
The King's expression was resolute and unyielding, as if he would call the whole thing off if I asked for a single day more. Fine, two years. It was a tight schedule, but doable. Since this year was 1441, the Year of Sinyu, two years later would be 1443, the Year of Gyehae. I would enter office around then. That year sounded strangely familiar. Good. I had his word. But I needed to secure an insurance policy this time.
"In truth, what I lacked was not limited to paper, ink, and fellow scholars."
"What else was there?"
See? The moment I showed even a tiny opening, he tried to seize the opportunity to kidnap me. How could I trust him? So I spoke.
"In this land of Haedong, countless scholars lament their inability to obtain the Complete Works of Master Zhu and various other texts. How could I be any different?"
"..."
"..."
"Furthermore, books are so scarce in our nation that even finding copies already in circulation is exceedingly difficult, which has caused me immense grief."
"..."
"..."
Yes. That should shut them up.
"...That is indeed a noble scholar's lament. I shall do everything in my power to resolve this grief of yours."
"Your Majesty's grace is boundless."
Establishing an academic database on par with the Ming Dynasty. Overhauling book publication and distribution. I had demanded things that were absolutely impossible to achieve in the short term. Now, they wouldn't be able to drag me back before the deadline without resolving those issues first. At any rate, King Yi Do seemed to have suffered some serious internal damage. He sat in deep contemplation for a long while before suddenly snapping his head up.
"Right. Is that so?" His eyes gleamed with a wild light.
"Very well. However, you must answer my summons in two years without fail."
"...How could I dare do otherwise?"
"No."
What is he talking about all of a sudden?
"It is not merely because you made a promise to me. Nor is it because I have issued a royal decree."
...Then what is it? Smacking his lips, Yi Do suddenly gestured to dismiss the royal historian, as if he had prepared for this moment. In an instant, not just the historian but the shadows of everyone in the vicinity vanished. Once we were alone, the King opened a drawer beneath his writing desk. He pulled out a book and handed it to me.
"Read it."
If he tells me to read, I must. Let's see.
The letter ㄱ represents the molar sound, just like the initial sound of the character gun (君)...
Wait, what the fuck?
*Thud.* When I came to my senses, I realized I had dropped the book—the very book that was more precious than my own life. I frantically scooped it up with both hands and stared at it again.
"..."
"You are indeed a sage. Did you recognize what 'it' was the moment you laid eyes on it?"
"..."
"It is not yet complete, but the day is near."
Cold sweat trickled down my back. I could see that it truly wasn't far off. It was almost identical to the form I knew. It was the Hunminjeongeum. I... I had been so careful, terrified that I might exert even the slightest influence, terrified that this monumental moment in history might somehow be canceled, to the point that I hadn't left behind a single note written in Hangul...
"You must be here in two years, without fail."
...And two years later would be 1443. The year of Hangul's creation. I bowed my head deeply before the greatest linguist to ever walk the Korean peninsula. Yes. Of course I must. I will return without fail. Even if I die, I must come back. I understand. I will engrave this in my heart.
"In two years, you must respond to 'this' in kind."
Of course.
"This is a matter of the utmost secrecy."
I know.
"It is something I have shown only to my family."
Yes, I know that all too well. That's why old man Choi Man-ri roared like a lion back then, demanding to know what you were secretly doing with the busy Crown Prince.
"For the time being, I shall continue to show it only to my family. Keep that in mind."
Yes. I understand. I will keep it in mind. A secret shared only among family members, which I...
"..."
Wait, family... uh...
"Your Majesty, but I am not a member of your family..."
"*Ahem.*"
What bastard dared to clear their throat at a time like—ah, it was the Crown Prince.
"How could I begrudge my legitimate daughter to the benefactor who saved the Crown Princess's life?"
"..."
"Therefore, you must not enter into marriage talks with anyone else for the next two years."
Ah. I thought I had a choice in this...
"You are family," the King said this time.
I, uh... ...Yes, sir.