Chapter 108
Chapter 108
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 108
Chapter Title: Eastern Doctrine and Western Devices (1)
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I had no real clue about shipbuilding technology anyway—since it wouldn't do for a yangban like me to pretend otherwise—so when I reported to the Crown Prince in front of all those high officials gathered at court, I stuck mostly to foreign affairs.
First off, with the Dutch, we take a hardline stance across the board. They're spies from start to finish.
The Dutch East India Company's retaliatory fleet? We've got nearly thirty hostages on our side.
If need be, we execute them one by one right in front of their eyes. How could the spirit of defending the righteous from foreign invaders bend the knee to base violence?
The Dutch go around baring their teeth at the Japanese, boasting about their might in Europe, but that doesn't fly with a future-dweller like me.
I know my history. Those worthless bastards will whine, "B-but neutral countries aren't supposed to be invaded..." and get steamrolled anyway. And by perennial losers like the Germans, no less.
Even without going that far, the French Revolution's splash damage will smash them soon enough. I've seen it with my own eyes. Those blowfish-faced fools will crumble on their own if we just hold out a bit.
Japan, on the other hand, has been our neighbor longer than the Dutch and is close enough that making a fuss would be a pain, so we avoid excessive pressure or squeezing them for concessions.
We just send a light rebuke to the Tsushima lord—not the shogunate—saying something like, "Not managing your vassal state properly?" That keeps us on the moral high ground. Not that we're going easy because they're my private trading partners, of course.
Listening in was Joseon's eternal drillmaster, Kim Seong-eung, who chimed in.
"Kim Unhaeng's proposal follows the righteous path. But now that we've placed the Haolan under the Training Command, they'll realize we have no intention of releasing them. They might flee like in King Hyeonjong's reign (Hamel's case) or stir up trouble, so it would be best to handle this as a state secret."
Hm? Tricking foreign pirates with lies and sucking them dry isn't something a minister should say, is it? Must be because he's a military man.
My question was answered shortly after.
The Crown Prince was interested in Dutch technology, and unlike me, Kim Seong-eung, being in Seoul, had gotten wind of it early and tossed him the ball.
That's why drillmasters eat well for a thousand years. What a scheming flatterer.
Sure enough, the Crown Prince readily agreed on foreign policy and immediately asked about technology.
"To emulate the precedents set by Kings Injo and Hyeonjong, we must accept the drillmaster's proposal. However, you said it's hard to replicate barbarian ships as they are—even with Haolan help?"
Don't build that crap. A true ruler considers the suffering of his people (me).
"This humble servant knows little of shipbuilding methods, but even setting aside craftsmanship, where do we source timber that massive? It would surely burden the populace."
From what I'd asked Dutch sailors on the way here, per Han Jung-ryang's urging, we could probably make it work by grinding the Dutchmen into the labor. Their ships aren't optimized for materials either—despite being for Indonesia, the wood warps and splits in tropical weather, but they just powered through with grit, apparently.
But how could we adopt such an imperfect thing as national policy? I felt no shame whatsoever. Joseon truly lacks not just big trees, but even small ones.
The Crown Prince smacked his lips and asked again.
"What about cannons and instruments, then?"
"We have Hongyippo ourselves, and some instruments are fairly sophisticated, but they're toys at best."
But the golden boy remained unmoved, even against the Noron hardliners' stern remonstrations.
"Whether they're truly useless will be examined thoroughly by Vice Minister of War Park Pilgyun, who's already heading to Ganghwa with skilled artisans and officers. Your proposal for exchange and alliance is sound, so I'll report it to Father and implement it at once."
Then the Crown Prince turned to Minister of Personnel Jo Jae-ho.
"The merit in repelling these pirates is a once-in-a-century feat. What if we promote him exceptionally, beyond standard ranks, to a senior third-rank position?"
Before my heart could even race, Jo Jae-ho shot me a quick look that said this was his role and not to blame him, then replied.
"Your Highness is right, but Kim Unhaeng mobilized soldiers without authority as a junior inspector checking on the interpreter's office. We must use this as a cautionary tale for the future. I cannot recommend promotion."
Damn, I expected it, but Joseon bureaucracy is no joke.
Having smoothly passed the villain role to Jo Jae-ho, the Crown Prince played the benevolent lead. Put nicely, he's seasoned in politics; put harshly, he's turning into his father.
"But Father has specially praised this achievement, so we can't ignore the merit entirely. I'll personally grant Kim Unhaeng a modest reward of goods."
Hmm. That might actually be better.
Right now, I need to establish smuggling ships and import inkstones—money matters more than rank there.
Silk? Gold and silver? Ginseng? Anything works. Wonder if ginseng sells well in Japan?
I kept smiling face-down until an eunuch emerged bearing the bundled "gift" respectfully.
Yi Hwan's face changed as he ran joyfully to his long-unseen father.
Princess Se-hwa scooped up Yi Hwan, who had scurried behind her, and asked.
"Why does your face look so poor? Did the Crown Prince scold you?"
"No. It's nothing."
Far from a scolding, I even got a gift.
The problem? It's a chronometer looted from the Dutch ship.
What am I, a Mongol? Divvying up plunder? What the hell do I do with this?
The Han River express must've delivered it faster than me. My balanced workload principle only shines in useless spots.
Plus, the Crown Prince secretly told me later, "Don't reject it as barbarian trash—study this instrument thoroughly so you don't go against my will."
Get real. Barbarians get rejected—nothing but rejection.
Handing me this with that line? That's Emperor Xian's vibe, always plotting to assassinate ministers. Smashing it is fine, right?
I'll have Dong-seung shatter it clean like splitting a jade rod with a sword. Newly pissed, I nearly yelled for Jangbok to fetch an axe.
But Se-hwa's question stopped me.
"Who's that child, anyway?"
Wondering who she meant, I glanced aside to see my card terminal—no, Kaoru, who'd come along.
"A waetong with nowhere to go, so I brought him. Have Jangbok or Butler Song assign him to someone suitable for menial chores."
In the 21st century, it'd be grounds for instant divorce, but here it's like, "Found a decent vacuum someone tossed—who wants it?" Just unusual because it's Japanese.
Se-hwa said nothing much, just stared at Kaoru.
"Hmm..."
Kaoru, ignorant of etiquette as a foreigner, boldly met her gaze but soon dropped his eyes under some culture-transcending pressure. Good. Learn like that.
"He looks beautiful and clever. I'll teach him myself."
"You? You've been busy minding Gangnam Daeseong in my absence. Don't overdo it for the baby's sake."
"No worries about the Gangnam Daeseong students. The second cohort passed the exams safely, didn't they?"
I'd heard that from Dongnae already.
Sons and nephews of heavyweights like Won In-son (Won Gyeongha's son), Kim Jong-su (Kim Jae-ro's grandnephew), Seo Myeong-seon (former Minister Seo Jong-ok's son)—most of the second cohort aced it. Their powerful patrons naturally grew even friendlier toward me.
Supplying Gangnam Daeseong, supporting Go Bonghwan, handling mishaps—it's no easy task without me there. Especially for a woman reliant on household news.
If Se-hwa says so, she can handle Kaoru fine.
Too lazy to think more. Leave house matters to the wife.
The inner gate's her office space anyway. Back home after so long—I need rest too.
"Do that."
I shoved the hated chronometer into storage and hit the sack.
Contrary to Kim Unhaeng's thoughts, Joseon already made and used mechanical clocks quite well.
They just lacked core tech, relying on parts from imported Chinese clocks, limited to the palace and Royal Observatory. That's why Kim Unhaeng didn't know.
The Crown Prince giving him the clock wasn't about analyzing alien tech. He knew what it was.
It was just a ploy to coax Kim Unhaeng—who seemed to despise Western tech—into his ventures.
The actual clock expert was someone else.
A month later, arriving at Jang-dong, military officer Choi Cheon-yak couldn't hide his awe at Kim Yonggyeom's house.
"You bought out the neighbor, demolished it for space. Your prosperity is truly impressive."
Not from family growth. It's all the visitors and hangers-on wanting to see Kim Unhaeng.
They even called him the "Fierce General of Jang-dong" among enthusiasts. Choi Cheon-yak's recommendation from Drillmaster Kim Seong-eung didn't seem that special.
Finally, the gate opened.
It swung with the dignity of an office door. Crowds chattered boisterously, entering or exiting.
The giant gatekeeper famed in the capital kept fights at bay. But unaccustomed to public order, people shoved every which way.
"Whoa!"
Even ex-officer Choi Cheon-yak couldn't fend off the youths. He nearly fell and broke bones.
That would've been a huge loss for Joseon tech history.
A genius clockmaker who replicated complex imported Chinese clocks at a glance.
His divinely precise hands reformed national standards like the Yeongjo Foot (unrelated to the king), accurate even by modern measures.
He restored the lost tech of Borugak water clocks from the Fortress Lord's era.
His mystical skills even drew claims of sorcery from contemporaries—even in court.
Thus was Choi Cheon-yak.
Why this mechanical wizard stood servant-less? It needs some political explanation.
For strengthening royal authority, Crown Prince Yi Hwon chose naval development, while Yi Geum went classic.
During the Mun clan incident, the Queen Dowager faced Yi Geum and thought—if only in her mind—"Obsessed with a lowly woman out of longing for your mother?"
And she wasn't alone.
Sukbin Choi was a major political hurdle for Yi Geum. The tag "Joseon's sole lowborn king" dogged him.
The fix? Elevate his mother.
Yi Geum decided to upgrade Sukbin Choi's posthumous title and tomb.
Perfect timing: post-Wae gwan incident, he lectured his ministers.
"We've pacified the lewd Japanese invaders, stabilizing the borders. Heaven, moved, ended the long drought with rain—truly a resonance of heaven and earth. With yin-yang harmony aligned by rites, no time is better for fitting ceremonies."
Kim Unhaeng did repel the pirates, and rain did finally fall after Joseon's endgame rain ritual wager.
But why honor a do-nothing king's birth mother? Unclear.
Yi Geum mobilized kinsman, Rites Minister Yi Ik-jeong.
Like blocking kin executions as Chief Censor before, Yi Ik-jeong smoothed royal-related oppositions.
The Rites Minister pushed the honors' protocols, pushing it through somehow.
Yi Geum then gently rebuffed the overreaching Yi Ik-jeong (as planned) with pro-wrestling flair. No one could doubt the king's humility.
Sukbin Choi got Hwagyeong title; her shrine became Palace, tomb Garden.
Trouble arose here.
Soryeong Tomb became Soryeong Garden; reconstruction under royal favorite Choi Cheon-yak.
But public works are lowly, so rewarding him properly was tough.
Yi Geum, a man of his era, saw technicians as mere tools—disposable for politics.
When Choi Cheon-yak moved common graves and uprooted pines for Soryeong Garden, Yi Geum rebuked him.
"I've permitted locals to worship ancestors nearby. Even I detour to avoid lowly graves—your conduct is bizarre."
Yi Geum held no personal hatred for Choi. His hate went mostly to the Crown Prince.
He just wanted to flaunt his benevolence.
But perhaps Joseon's greatest technician vanished from records after Yeongjo 29's project.
Grandson Jeongjo later lamented, "If only that genius engineer were here..."
Afterward, Choi Cheon-yak planned quiet retirement. Fame as a Joseon technician wasn't that appealing—no regrets.
The Crown Prince recruited him.
Everyone knew the subtle prince-king dynamic. The enemy of my enemy is friend.
Unlike the king, the prince promised much; Choi joined as "private subordinate," not official—then dispatched to Kim Unhaeng.
Kim Unhaeng didn't question a military man in tech.
He knew modern Korean troops wield shovels/tools more than guns. Joseon officers are "civil officials' complement."
Kim Unhaeng saw bigger meaning: the prince building private lines outside oversight—for "non-entertainment" purposes.
Even as Choi examined the chronometer and explained.
"To inspect closely, we'd dismantle it, but it likely has coiled iron plates like prior devices (springs). It ticks left-right evenly, like steady drips. Amazingly, it measures not just hours or quarters, but far finer, rapid time (seconds hand) ceaselessly."
"Oh ho, so that's the principle. Truly ingenious."
Kim Unhaeng nodded as if grasping perfectly.
In truth, zilch. Balance wheel oscillation and energy escape? Even 21st century folk rarely get it.
"Indeed. Even superficially, each metal bit is exquisitely precise. So tightly enclosed, it won't shake on rough seas—time stays true."
Choi paused, then continued.
"His Highness ordered replication, but I can't alone. He'll have Kim Chunsik help."
Kim Unhaeng grimaced inwardly. More money sunk into useless clocks.
The prince is fairer than his father, but won't cover full costs.
Frustrated by power's abuse, Kim Unhaeng resigned. Then asked.
"Shall I assign workshops?"
"Ordinary artisans won't do. I know some—may I write letters?"
"Please do."
As Choi wrote, Kim Unhaeng schemed trades: loosen court oversight on Ulleungdo/Dongnae for smuggling. Gotta get something out of it—no freebies.
Then Kaoru entered demurely bearing a tray.
Kim Unhaeng sometimes forgot, but liquor ban's on—Japanese Uji tea wafted, rare in Joseon.
Author's Notes
1. Fluyt ships got complaints for timber failing tropical voyages despite heavy use there. Dutch did bluff to Japanese about European dominance.
2. Yeongjo did upgrade Sukbin Choi's title and tomb around then—fact.
Some kin/scholars pushed it eyeing favor, but ministers blocked at Endorsement Office level. Without Kim Unhaeng, pure Yeongjo politics compromised it through.
The scripted deal with Yi Ik-jeong (real too) and multi-layer maneuvers were fun but too long—skipped.
3. Choi Cheon-yak: real officer, inventor, engineer, architect—as described. His skills drew sorcery claims even in court from ministers. Exaggeratedly, palace/court projects seemed waved by his magic wand.
Yeongjo's rebuke on Soryeong real, but no punishment. Endorsement logs show post-project salt farm post (like Kim Jeok-haeng's), then age-retirement. Yeongjo mentions his death in 1755—likely died then originally.
4. High-end Japanese green tea Gyokuro formed mid-19th, but base Uji tea developed 1738 by Nagatani Soen.