Chapter 114
Chapter 114
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: Do You Know the Way? (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The performance at Songpa Ferry, which I had planned and the Dog-Beating Stick faction executed, wrapped up to roaring success.
As often depicted in wuxia novels, suddenly taking in intense lightning energy all at once could cause your internal energy to go berserk. The special anti-possession pills I sold to prevent that sold like hotcakes.
The eunuchs had offered tonics to the royal family and traded the leftover scraps for discounted Yuryongmok coupons—those were just roughly kneaded together.
It wasn't outright fraud; I had no choice because of the groundwork I'd laid.
Lately, Father kept asking what I was doing, dragging the family name through the mud. I'd brushed it off by saying I was emulating Song Siyol and Heo Mok from the old days by prescribing medicine, so I had to produce something.
The effects were phenomenal. Testimonies poured in from Seoul and surrounding areas about the miraculous cures from the "lightning treatment" and the "Andong Kim clan heirloom elixir" combo.
I was shocked myself. There were far more testimonials than the shills I'd planted. Why was it actually working?
Anyway, strike while the iron's hot.
Yeoni was handling toy sales (Se-hwa doesn't know about this one; she'd divorce me if she did), Lee Jaeun was on electric therapy duty, so the family had to man the elixir sales. It was a clan secret formula, after all. And by common sense, the eldest son inherits the family's wisdom.
So after returning from Myeongji Island, I dragged my brother back in—he'd been lounging around, racking up more debt.
"How can you treat your brother so harshly over a few coins?!"
"Brother, the sages said, 'He who does not work, neither shall he eat.'"
"What scripture is that from?!"
"You wouldn't know because you never studied. It exists."
"I read books too..."
"But you failed the civil service exams, didn't you?"
He ran out crying.
It's fine, brother. It's still better than the salt farm days.
Among jobs a scholar could take besides civil official or academic, doctor wasn't too shameful. You just had to endure the whispers of "Was he a bastard son?"
With the quack doctor Kim Jeokhaeng (the debtor) successfully launched, things around me started settling down.
Se-hwa nodded, ledger in front of her.
"So that's the family secret. You've been using that box since you were little?"
"Ahem, I don't rely on such folk remedies."
It stung my pride. I hadn't borrowed medicine's power. I'd borrowed the Status Window's, sure.
"That aside... we need to set aside about a thousand taels from the earnings."
"Got something to spend it on?"
"Mm. The national treasury's short, you see. How could I, as a subject, dodge contributing to the relief fund?"
Just like how they scrapped taxes in the north but created loyalty funds, this era had plenty of ways to squeeze money out. Joseon was worse because they actually collected taxes.
Of course, I had no intention of paying. What had the country ever done for me? I brought it up for another reason.
I might not know 21st-century machines well, but 18th-century ones? I had a decent grasp.
Everything here was consumable. No durable metal parts existed.
The electric therapy device—foundation of my quackery—would break after a few more uses. And this time, even I couldn't fix it.
So I needed to mass-produce replicas ASAP, which meant relying on the state-owned Military Armory's facilities.
That's why I was investing. My patent fee secured, of course.
Plus, fattening up the Armory would count as my achievement as its overseer.
And Se-hwa was the kind who didn't need all that explained.
She smiled faintly.
"A true loyal subject, as expected."
Buoyed by my wife's support, I pushed the plan forward energetically.
But despite that, my prospects hit another snag.
Na Kyungjeok was in "give me more time and budget" mode again today.
"Make an exact copy without breaking the original? I nailed the Western-style clock, so that's no issue, but we're short one thing."
"What's that?"
Na Kyungjeok pointed to the glass jar spinning on the handle.
Materials again? Ridiculous. He'd clearly forgotten his graduate student roots.
"Glass mirrors are in every tiled house in the capital. Why can't you make one? Fetch a glassblower."
"Those are imported from China. Never heard of a glassblower in all Joseon. Know one? Bring him."
I snorted and left.
That's when I truly realized how valuable an old man's experience was in this era.
Incredibly, no glassblower in my reach.
Joseon knew glass—mirrors were bribes, so everyone valued them. I'd gifted a few myself.
But no one making them? Bizarre.
I tapped my Gangnam University network.
Shim Hwanji, handling curios at the Ping-sil Seondeok Pavilion, drew a blank.
"Never heard of it. No entries in the classics on glass (pariglass). Why's the Armory after it?"
"Vital for state affairs... Really none?"
"Maybe some rich private collector, but no official artisans offering to the state. For foreign goods, hit the seas. Got ties to Jeolla Left Naval Command? Their Liberation Squadron's been thriving. Might snag some."
Couldn't fathom why he treated the Liberation Squadron like smugglers or privateers, but he was right.
My friendly Wolsong Liberation Squadron was small—just one manho's outfit.
Jeolla Left Naval District, with Joseon's mightiest fleet, was top dog.
I had no ties to the current Jeolla Left Naval Commander Park Jaeha.
But ties aren't found.
They're made.
Kim Unhaeng sent lavish gifts via ship to the Left Naval Command. Shim Hwanji oversaw the private use of Seoul's Liberation Squadron.
Two months later, around the first moon of Yeongjo 30 (1754), opportunity knocked for the watchful Kim Unhaeng.
Park Jaeha faced impeachment.
Yeongjo had dispatched rectification envoys to Honam and Yeongnam to oversee grain loans and salt taxes.
Honam envoy Lee Seongjung accused Jeolla Left Naval Commander Park Jaeha of arbitrarily collecting salt taxes and plundering commoners, demanding his dismissal.
Beyond graft, whispers linked him distantly to Yun Ji—son of Yun Chwi-sang, ally of former Soron leader Kim Il-gyeong, exiled in Naju—a grave offense.
Faction ties irked Yi Geum, allergic to party labels, more than the corruption.
Park Jaeha got dismissed and exiled to Jeju the next year.
That's what would've happened without Kim Unhaeng.
He mobilized Gangnam University students—the school was built for this.
First, second-years Kim Jong-su and Seo Myeong-seon, fresh officials with nothing to lose, led memorials.
"Honam Rectification Envoy Lee Seongjung shamelessly begged a military post from the king, citing poverty. A magistrate, who should be purest, saw it as a chance to enrich himself—what shame does he not know? How can such a wretch judge others' graft?"
Couldn't deny Park Jaeha skimmed some tribute.
So attack the messenger, not the message.
Kim Unhaeng's petty ploy rattled the censors enough.
Then first-years like Kim Unhaeng, Shim Hwanji, Hong Daeyong, and Yu Eonho played seniors.
Their success tied to his (plus all the favors), so they grumbled but followed.
Veteran first-years lobbied familiar ministers—planting winds since their rank was awkward for high-ups.
Even the Haeng clan pitched in.
Kim Seonhaeng still held Yi Geum's favor. Kim Unhaeng worked his silver tongue there.
"In King Myeongjo's era, the court elders fell for Won Gyun's slander against Chungmugong. Repeat that error, and how can you claim to fulfill your duty as Royal Secretary?"
Kim Seonhaeng didn't swallow it whole, of course.
Park Jaeha matched Yi Sun-sin's rank, not talent. Even kings vary—Sejong crushed Jurchens, Injo served them loyally.
But another angle chilled him.
This king had precedent: punish a subject, reinstate for politics, then blame accusers for "blinding me to a loyalist!" and reverse-punish all involved.
Kim Seonhaeng selectively quashed "villainous slander" memorials from easy targets—total wipeout looked suspicious.
Yi Geum saw court opinion tilting against punishment.
Unlike history, dismissing Park now wouldn't signal the Liberation Squadrons wrong. If they halted "exploiting overseers," the Equal Distribution Bureau dies.
Yi Geum's case was thin—mere faction whiff.
Rational choices abounded.
And Yi Geum was highly rational, son aside.
Park Jaeha's post was restored.
But his wounded pride wasn't.
Park Jaeha decided to live the tale of Wei Yan from old Qihan.
"If they keep calling you a rebel, damn well rebel for real."
Not raising troops, no.
If Yi Geum suspected factionalism, he'd join one for real.
He had no political ambitions, but if politics meddled, he needed shelter.
Where to align? Easy—Kim Unhaeng had boasted plenty.
Not just gratitude. His faction—young Noron Spring Party (Chun-dang)—was solid despite size.
Current Noron and Soron were blood feuds over dead dads, awkward for unrelated Park Jaeha.
Chun-dang wasn't.
Namin, Soron, even military—united by ambition (wealth and glory).
That mattered.
Thus, Noron Chun-dang recruited Joseon's top active admiral.
'We're Yi Sun-sin's hometown!' 21st-century locales like Jinhae, Tongyeong, Asan vie with festivals. Each has grounds.
But as military commander, Yi Sun-sin's title was Three Provinces Naval Commander and Jeolla Left Naval Commander, so Suncheon—home to Left Naval HQ—claims too.
Thus, current Jeolla Left Naval Commander Park Jaeha inheriting his spirit? Natural.
How?
Simple.
Kill Japanese scum. Kill more. Kill even more.
So in the fourth moon that year, Japanese merchants cried "pirates!" as 30-odd Joseon ships ambushed their Qing-bound trade fleet. Ignorant fools.
This extended Imjin War.
Joseon ships striking unseen offshore owed Kim Chunsik again.
Kim Unhaeng shared South China Sea routes via Dutch slave intel with Left Naval.
Scientifically reckless—Joseon navigation: "no land, no sail." Galleys too. Epitome of "brave through stupidity."
Yet ancient Polynesians conquered Pacific in primitive canoes. History advances on reckless gambles.
Luckily, this paid off.
A few sank in storms, but trade loot covered it.
Now, Park Jaeha's next question could yield bigger rewards.
At HQ, he imperiously asked captives:
"Which of you works glass?"
Edo-era Japan had decent glass industry. Joseon imports were mostly Russian-glass Chinese, but Japan produced too.
Yet they eyed each other. Intent obvious.
No answers. Park Jaeha sighed regretfully.
"I'd have spared a skilled one's life. No such? Guards! Military execution for these pirates!"
As the command translated, mysteriously, glassblowers bloomed from these mere traders.
"On second thought, my cousin's neighbor in Edo blows glass—I picked up basics peeking!"
Others pitched alternatives:
"I-I make paper!"
"I'm a carpenter, versed in Kiwari[woodcutting manual]..."
"My father was Edo's top eel roaster[grilled eel]; I trained ten years..."
Park Jaeha smiled satisfied.
Kim Unhaeng just needed glassblowers—skipped real motive.
Park assumed he sought skilled artisans.
Send them all, exceed quota, bigger "thanks."
Admiral's eye, indeed.
Park Jaeha's letter—"secured multiple artisans"—was unbelievable.
Glassblowers at sea?
I'd said fake pirates, raid some Japanese coastal village. Misheard, apparently.
I tilted my head but sent promised funds. A jeong 3rd rank wouldn't scam a junior.
Then to Wangsimni SIT with the good news.
But Na Kyungjeok had better.
Forgetting decorum, he shook my shoulders.
"Success!"
"W-what?"
"Glass!"
"You made it solo?"
Excitement dulled him; then he burst laughing.
"No, no. Found a way without glass—the shiny box works."
"How?"
"Tried porcelain. Thin gold leaf inside-out? Identical. But... why are you crying?"
"...No. Early summer heat—sweaty eyes."
After rewarding Na Kyungjeok and leaving SIT, I gazed skyward slowly.
Questioning heaven's will.
What had I done so wrong?
Park Jaeha and Kim Unhaeng's misalignment dovetailed perfectly.
Kim Unhaeng no longer needed glassblowers; none arrived anyway.
He dispersed them (grouped, they'd flee), trained, formed "Team Japan."
Red-eyed for ROI, he exploited relentlessly.
But court eyes were on Park Jaeha's feat over Kim Unhaeng's staffing.
Thrashing wako? Unignorable merit.
Kim Unhaeng's nonsense to Kim Seonhaeng manifested. Park Jaeha became the slandered Yi Sun-sin.
Kim Seonhaeng's groundwork helped, but Yi Geum craved showing foresight. Honam envoy Lee Seongjung got grounded.
To insiders knowing all: everything per Kim Unhaeng's script.
Noron Chun-dang's debut political move: A+.
They gained recognition as a force—slowly, surely.
With political storms looming per history, for Kim Unhaeng, this trumped glass or electricity.
Biggest win.
Author's Notes
1. Heo Mok prescribed the deadly poison Bishang to rival Song Siyol when ill. Shockingly, Song took it and recovered.
2. Honam Rectification Envoy Lee Seongjung actually begged a magistrate post from Yeongjo for "quick cash" (told the king directly) and was refused.
3. Kim Unhaeng didn't know, but "he who does not work, neither shall he eat" (Biblical) echoes Tang monk Hoihae: "No work a day, no eat a day."
4. Debate if Joseon made no glass, but all products were imports; state produced none.
5. Edomae (Edo-style) meant grilled eel then, sushi now. Japanese saying: "skewers 3 years, prep 8, grilling lifetime"—mastery tough.
6. Leyden jars use glass insulators. Porcelain theoretically works, though tricky as shown.