Chapter 11
Chapter 11
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Aim for the Top (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Those around me took my fidgeting while waiting for the preliminary exam results as the natural tension of a past exam candidate.
So even when I snapped irritably or paced the courtyard under the moonlight howling like a beast, they all understood.
No one paid it any mind, except for Eoji, who wore a resolute expression and offered me his hidden rice cakes ('Hungry?').
Even Jangbok plastered on an overly forced smile, his face caked in makeup, just nodding and saying "Yes, yes" to whatever I said. I wanted to tell him to plug his ears, the fool.
Everyone thought they knew exactly what was troubling me. Since it was the complete opposite of the truth, I felt like I was going insane.
Fortunately, the results were announced soon enough.
If you imagined a pass notice being delivered to the house, you'd be dead wrong.
How dare anyone sit at home expecting to receive the king's decree.
Of course, I had to go there myself.
Damn those True Loyalist bastards. Ah, may they be ruined after I become Chief State Councillor.
The announcement ceremony wasn't much different from the preliminary exam procedures.
The difference was that this was a pure award ceremony, so we had a 'rehearsal' first.
It made sense, really. It would be a disaster if someone burst into tears proclaiming their class in front of the king, or shouted in joy over becoming top scorer.
Who in Joseon would do that? Human emotions aren't so easily controlled. Even Shin Sukju once got drunk and put the king in a joint lock.
For reference, that king was the type to smash someone's head with an iron mace if he didn't like them. Ah, there were quite a few such kings in Joseon, so it's easy to mix them up, but it wasn't King Taejong.
In any case, royal events always required utmost perfection.
So before the king arrived, we received our rankings from the Ministry of Rites officials in rehearsal.
The top scorer was obvious anyway. Unless it was a regent's pick, it'd be the son of a high-ranking official. What mattered was whether I'd make it into the top three of the first class.
So I imagined the best possible outcome my status could achieve: me as the third-place first-class graduate, the Flower Hunter.
True to its name, the Flower Hunter was the one who received the royal flowers from the king and distributed them to the new graduates.
It was a nerve-wracking role. One slip-up in front of the nobles would be disastrous.
Ugh, more stress. At least the rehearsal was a relief.
Then, some commotion arose.
"Son of Junior Secretary of the Royal House of Scribes Kim Yonggyeom, Kim Unhaeng! First place in the Literary Examination, top scorer. When the announcer calls your name during the ceremony, stand up."
Silence fell.
"Kim Unhaeng! Come forward and hear the full procedure!"
What the hell. Why wasn't anyone responding?
Don't they know three seconds of dead air on radio is a broadcast accident? If this were the live show instead of rehearsal, heads would literally roll.
Hurry up and dash out. Top scorer? Lucky bastard, whoever it is.
Suddenly, an unpleasant jab hit my side.
Someone had poked me. He whispered low and firm.
"What are you doing not rushing out? Did shock make you faint on your feet?"
I pointed at my face in bewilderment. He shot back a look like I was crazy.
Everyone's had that minor experience.
Your mind wanders, you miss what was said, but even without repetition, it clicks seconds later.
Your brain hadn't parsed it yet, but it had stored it.
That's exactly what happened to me.
And the next moment, I nearly fainted for real.
I vaguely remember cursing the scoundrel who mocked the court like a mad dog, then groveling afterward.
Somehow, I made it through the live ceremony without mistakes, which was a relief.
There wasn't much room for error anyway.
In this award ceremony—the announcement ceremony—there was no scene of the king personally awarding something while the top scorer cried out in utmost gratitude.
Just bow, receive the prize, bow again, and exit. Done.
Music played in between, but without electronic equipment and with poor acoustics in the venue, it sounded a bit shabby to my ears.
Yeongjo and Sado Seja?
I didn't even see their faces. Closer than before, but I couldn't lift my head.
That was the regrettable part. If possible, I'd have liked to see the king and crown prince up close or exchange a few words.
Clearly, my exam paper didn't deserve top scorer. There had to be some political motive.
But it was wishful thinking.
What did the king think of me? What was the status window's hinted intent of the crown prince?
No way to know. Subtle implications or meaningful glances in greetings and encouragements were worthless.
The only speech was at the end, when the spokesman knelt facing north and reported to the king on behalf of the graduates—not thanks, but congratulating the king on selecting fine talents.
After that, I finally got a top scorer experience I recognized.
First, I received a horse from the state. Of course, the royal flowers and red pass certificate too.
Wow, now ride this through town with flowers in my hair.
It felt like renting hanbok near Gwanghwamun for a date. I really didn't want to, but with Jangbok already waiting outside Changdeok Palace, rearing to go as young master's mount, that was out.
And then, at last, the status window appeared.
Hmm. Whether at Chundangdae or now, the announcement ceremony seems to be the benchmark.
The coins are steadily piling up. I got first class and even top scorer—what else is there?
As if reading my thoughts, the next message appeared.
Yes, that's what I wanted!
To clear goals well, I need to stockpile coins.
To stockpile coins, I need to clear sub-goals.
But to do that, I first need to know what the sub-goals are.
In other words, information is the most crucial thing in this user-unfriendly game.
No way they'd put this much effort into trapping someone just for this—there must be elements I haven't grasped yet.
With coins, the first thing that comes to mind is shop content.
No word yet, but it'll unlock in time. Maybe accumulate a certain amount?
The status window continued.
So many I had to tap 'View More'—I didn't even know the status window had touch functionality.
Balancing precariously on horseback, I checked: all famous high officials I recognized. Hong Daeyong was the only one I knew from the future.
Hong Daeyong was someone even Kim Unhaeng knew.
Not that my same-age Hong Daeyong was already famous as a scientist. He was the disciple of Kim Unhaeng's clan's senior, Kim Wonhaeng (though old enough to be my father).
The more you know, the more you realize: Joseon scholars were tightly woven in a net of academic, regional, and blood ties. A few degrees of separation, and everyone knew everyone.
By the same token, the number of people who hated me had ballooned to needing a 'View More'.
Mostly Hong Bonghan's faction, Soron, and Namin, but surprisingly many even from our Noron allies.
Hmm. This needs checking.
In a company, the key virtue isn't having many friends. It's having no enemies.
Are they jealous I became top scorer?
Zhangdong's atmosphere was, in a word, like a festival three days after a hero slays the demon king—villagers and hero alike celebrating.
I received so many congratulations on the way home, I half-expected to collapse and die before arriving.
Father was shamelessly ecstatic, Mother wept rivers. I had too many greetings that I couldn't dwell more on the status window.
Among the well-wishers was, naturally, my young friend Park Jiwon.
After lavishing praise, he glanced around and whispered, tugging my sleeve.
"By the way, they say the Crown Prince selected your exam paper this time."
My mind snapped alert.
"What?"
"Word is the court was in an uproar. Low birth, no literary flair—or rather, that's what the ministers said. Anyway, they insisted you absolutely couldn't be top scorer. Especially Auditor Hong (Hong Bonghan) petitioned for investigation, claiming his son matched you."
I flinched. This country seems sloppy, but it's not easy to slip through like a snake over a wall.
"A-and?"
"The king rebuked: 'Students getting pushed and hurt in exams has happened forever; it's unbecoming for a lofty minister to nitpick a fresh youth over it.' Moreover, since the Crown Prince chose Kim Unhaeng as top scorer and it made sense, His Majesty approved!"
Chills ran down my spine.
Amid the din, I could hear my own gulp.
Why?
The status window said the Crown Prince noticed me, fine (but how did he know my paper?), but Yeongjo had zero reason to back me.
Our house was Noron, but many core Noron families had finer talents.
Defy them—and not just anyone, but oppose regent Hong Bonghan—to defend me? Just because the Crown Prince picked me?
If father-son relations were good, maybe.
But scour history's richest dynasties; none had worse father-son than these two. Lü Bu choosing his father-in-law, at best?
Objectively, I wasn't worth Yeongjo going that far for.
I had no court influence, nor prospects.
Top scorer? Jeong Mongju, Seong Sammun, Heo Gyun, Yi Icheom—all top scorers. From here, modern me recalls Kim Okgyun too.
See the pattern? All ended not just careers, but lives—horribly.
Conversely, famed sages like Yi Hwang, Ryu Seongryong, Hwang Hui were average passers or barely qualified.
Ryu Seongryong placed in the military class but became youngest Grand Scholar after passing. Exam rank and smooth career don't correlate much.
'Wait.'
I focused on my perceived worthlessness. Not pleasant, but.
Invest in undervalued stocks. If the king grooms me regardless of talent, it creates enemies in the process—a fine tactic for loyalty.
That's why monarchs traditionally favored despised regents and eunuchs.
In doing so, conflicts with Noron core or regents target me over the king—i.e., Kim Changjip's lineage.
Yeongjo maintains 'hands-off superior' facade while subtly boosting Andong Kim clan through me.
Then other factions among Four Ministers and regent Hong Bonghan direct hate at us over the king.
With one trivial top scorer, he drives a wedge in Noron while warning regents.
And even Andong Kim isn't unified under our house, hard to consolidate power.
Prevents big factions, keeps them middling and scattered—long-term strategy.
Minimizing his own risk in the process.
I was stunned there.
'No way... this bastard...'
Truly petty, but Yeongjo dumped this on the Crown Prince deliberately.
Probably hinted to select my paper.
Had to be.
If the king chose, ministers could counter point-by-point. Their role.
But if Crown Prince chose and king approved?
Power dynamics and psychology make it subtle.
Ministers persisting looks like killing Crown Prince's spirit over exam rankings: 'So you think the heir's incompetent?'
Defy current king? Fine. Both king and heir? Burdensome, aim wavers. Momentum fades.
They compromise: 'Eh, whatever with the newbie pick. Prelims are king's whim anyway.'
Paranoia. No matter how I sliced it, not mere politics.
Just a madman thrilled by scheming, manipulating, controlling people.
Now I see why he killed his son.
'And now, I'm inextricably linked to Sado Seja.'
Side effect to Yeongjo, deadly serious for me.
Know quantum entanglement?
Simply: observe one particle's state, the other's instantly determines—faster than light.
Why it came to mind: Yeongjo's rep as science enthusiast king.
Suppose later he runs Schrödinger's Sado Seja experiment, superposing life and death.
Wavefunction collapses, Sado's state sets—mine, entangled, sets too.
Live together, die together. We'd swear brotherhood under the peach blossoms by the rice chest.
Is this real life?
Park Jiwon asked worriedly.
"Hyungnim? Why the cold sweat?"
"Uh, yeah?"
Park Jiwon grabbed my sleeve like he understood.
"No need to worry. What's Hong Bonghan to fear? Sages shun regents; the king wisely decided. In a way, you flattened his nose. Haha!"
I gave up explaining. What to tell a twelve-year-old?
Besides, my speculations—especially royal gossip—leaking to his grandfather, Minister of Rites Park Pilgyun? Risky.
Crucially, didn't want to spoil the mood.
Nothing happening right now anyway.
Our house and neighbor's turned 'banquet hall' overflowed with food—enough to feed an army.
Couldn't just stick with Park Jiwon. Strangers acted like lifelong bosom buddies from three generations back; greetings galore.
Entering, Father was already drunk.
Son top scorer: instant four-rank promotion to Junior Rank 6 Full Advisor. Currently dismissed, but king'd summon soon—he'd said it twelfth time.
Brother coming tomorrow to celebrate.
I smiled like a sigh.
Today, no complaints about Joseon's rough fare.
I told myself:
'Various unease, but stop thinking.'
Achieved in Joseon—far harder than Korea—what I never did there.
Ascension Chart is about enjoying the process.
And worst-case unlikely as best-case. Worst as rare as best.
If needed, long provincial post (but no resignation—ignored, game over).
I vowed not to yield to those 'company' bastards wanting my despair. That moment, I truly enjoyed, raising my cup.
But I should've considered reality more. Damn it.
Sobering up, facing the real world, I realized things were gravely serious.
'No money at home...?'
Father held office, but Joseon officials' regular salary was effectively nil.
High officials lived off gifts; who sends to lowlings like Father?
Weren't we once prime ministerial? Not Kim Changjip direct line.
Equal inheritance was early dynasty; non-clan house like ours got scraps. Those dwindled too.
No—huge debts.
Who? Me.
Ghostwriter fees to Go Bonghwan, feeding Eoji, etc., but banquet was killer. Top scorer—no skimping.
'Did we have to banquet?'
Self-questioning, I shook my head at my stupidity.
Had to. No choice.
This is Joseon. Banned father-son in exams for 'filial piety shattered, morals gone' laments.
Success without sharing? Not petty modern rep—total social annihilation.
Premodern isolation isn't cozy loneliness. Survival itself.
Reasons abound, but biggest: no public services yet.
Survival demands friends, neighbors, kin aid. Daily life, not emergencies.
Defy them? Biologically die.
Hence frantic mutual endorsements in histories, save eccentrics.
If my prediction held, court life tougher—I needed it more. Banquet worth it.
'Should've negotiated harder with Go Bonghwan.'
Mind changes coming/going bathroom? But spent money spent.
Joseon debt ain't mere loan vibe.
Gov low-interest welfare: 20% yearly. Private cheap: 50%. Usually doubles+ yearly.
Seoul Station despair tower near charity vs. Joseon usurers. Higher recovery risk than modern—understandable, but I'd starve first.
With Eoji, why worry lenders?
Sure, tank on credit card—no debt fear with tank.
But sadly, laws protect usury here.
Default? Statutes specify beats per sum. Yangban/pleb all rekt via daily interest games.
Damn, no 'chaebol second son' skill?
Pondering, a spark flashed.
'Wait, if Go Bonghwan did it, why not me?'
Not chasing old exam halls now.
Insider peddling faces risky. No time.
I fetched brush and paper.
Scholar time to earn.