Chapter 142
Chapter 142
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 142
Chapter Title: The Piercing Wind Blows at the Treetops (2)
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While I was preparing for the tributary mission, Cha Je-gong, the superintendent of the Military Armory Bureau, came to see me.
I'd been keeping an eye on him lately.
Kim Seon-haeng, my older brother who was fired for being part of the Hyeon faction and quickly switched back to the Crown Prince's side, had passed on word from the interrogation: his comment, "Isn't that guy the King?" during the royal inquest. He didn't seem like a King's faction member, but his constant weapon-making frenzy like some war maniac was suspicious.
Choe Cheon-yak, the mechanical mage, and his disciple Lee Deok-ri had finally gotten their chance, much to my chagrin. Even Na Gyeong-jeok from the civilian SIT group was itching to join them, so I barely talked him out of it by arguing that a true gentleman wouldn't stoop to such ugly deeds.
Not only that, but Cha Je-gong had scooped up Ahn Jeong-bok from Gangnam Daeseong, another Southern man, claiming he'd look after him. As revealed in our previous conversation, Ahn Jeong-bok was a dangerous radical advocating for "Yodong as the rightful living sphere for Joseon people."
So it was only natural that I didn't take Cha Je-gong's visit lightly.
And his words were far from light.
"I can't speak openly about this, but our failure to avenge Emperor Chongzhen and King Injo wasn't due to a lack of righteousness—it was simply a lack of power. Lord Chunsik, who once manifested King Hyeonjong's vow of vengeance with the Harlan rifle, must surely sympathize with all the loyal scholars."
Can't speak openly, my ass. You just spilled it all out.
"That's why we've long had envoys on tributary missions scout the strengths and weaknesses of Shenyang, Fengtian, and Beijing on their way back and report it. I've come to you because I trust your keen eye. If you notice anything noteworthy on the journey, please let me know."
You're slyly referencing King Hyeonjong's attitude of using the northern expedition excuse to bolster his own army (and then using it for the Qing), and pretending to fall for it while cooperating to strengthen royal authority, huh?
Don't fall for it—he's a bastard. He's not after rebels or pirates; he's gunning for his own son.
But no one would believe me if I shouted it from the rooftops, and it's way too risky to tell a Southern faction member I don't share political interests with.
I can't preach love and peace here either. As a legitimate heir to the Noron orthodoxy carrying on Kim Sang-heon's and Kim Sang-yong's anti-Qing integrity, I had no choice.
In the end, I agreed to Cha Je-gong's request.
In exchange, I suggested prioritizing supplies of the Military Armory's weapons to the Royal Guard Command.
That way, they could test the weapons, sell them off, and share profits with the Armory—giving them a pretext. Since Yeongjo hadn't boosted the budget just because Cha Je-gong took over, he was grateful for my predecessor's sweet tip.
Of course, the real goal was keeping those weapons out of the king's hands. With Hong Bong-han still playing nice, the king was under the illusion everything was fine.
The Royal Guard Command, Joseon's equivalent of the palace guard, naturally deserved first dibs on mastering new arms. Cha Je-gong nodded eagerly and left.
Still, I found one silver lining.
The fact they were still making weapons meant no immediate attack on the Crown Prince tomorrow. No point crafting arms you won't use.
The Queen Dowager's smokescreen was working. In a way, I could leave with some peace of mind.
It's just a smokescreen, right? He'll still be alive when I get back?
Next, I met the Crown Prince.
Yeongjo had clearly said "no one but the guarding troops," so as a mutual army general—an imperial guardsman—I was fine.
The dutiful on-duty soldiers teared up seeing me hobble in on a cane to bid him farewell and stepped aside.
The moment I entered the Citizen Hall, restored by the Crown Prince's grace, I immediately cautioned him.
"The recent fire was almost certainly Hong In-han's doing, but please don't let anger cloud your judgment. The royal will is already set."
But the Crown Prince's face suggested he might grab the sword on the wall and unleash a hundred-man slaughter technique on his scheming uncle right then.
As I tried to urge even an arch-nemesis of the concubines to hold back, the Crown Prince—Sado Seja himself—said something unbelievable.
"Lately, a man named Gu Seon-bok was appointed to the Five Armies Governor. From what I've heard, he mocks scholars and has poor conduct. As a cousin of Golden Guard Commander Gu Seon-haeng, I'm worried what those brothers might do."
Everyone could guess what was missing after "those brothers": "by Father's command."
I slightly upped my assessment of the Crown Prince and replied.
"As long as the Queen Dowager lives, they won't rashly mobilize troops. There's already talk about how Your Highness tried to shield Hong In-han by burning all the Royal Secret Police records. For now, gently reassure Training Commander Hong Bong-han so he doesn't fear or suspect you."
After briefly explaining my dealings with Cha Je-gong, I added the emergency protocol.
"But if what you fear happens, you'll have no choice but to flee. Didn't King Sun do just that?"
King Sun didn't sit idly to die—he escaped, returned, and dutifully served his parents.
The Crown Prince, reading King Sun's Annals per his father's orders, smiled at my cynical humor.
"Flee? To the Royal Guard Command headquarters?"
I shook my head.
"No. The Outer Royal Guard Battalion."
No matter how pro-Crown Prince Training Commander Hong Bong-han was, his delicate balancing act made his place unreliable.
If things went south, he might buckle under the king's mobilized public opinion and hand over the prince. The Guard HQ was smack in central Seoul.
That's why I'd shown plenty of consideration to demoted Outer Battalion Commander Kim Seong-eung.
For instance, when Yeongjo's new Gyeonggi Patrol threatened the Royal Guard's Jeolla grain transport monopoly, I sicced the Chunsik Fleet on them to pick fights and spark brawls.
The king, who favored the Guards, was already cleaning up the cluttered Han River estuary sea forces anyway, so he disbanded the Patrol and restored grain portal rights to the Guards.
Then, the homeless ships and smugglers, at the Chunsik Fleet's reconciliatory introduction, unofficially joined the Outer Battalion.
Of course, we also shaped opinion that the king revived the Patrol on a whim when he needed it, then discarded it like trash when it annoyed him.
Didn't you propose those three articles for the Patrol revival? In the 21st century, do people check every policy drafter before deciding whether to curse the president?
More smugglers and ships joining the Outer Battalion also meant tighter tax collection cruising the Han River ferries.
Kim Seong-eung, mocked as the top idiot among Gyeongbok Palace's three fools (Royal Guard Battalion, Capital Garrison, Patrol Office) and on the verge of depression, was thrilled.
If trouble brewed, the Crown Prince flees to Kim Seong-eung, who plays dumb—"I dunno, but rebellion? Protect the prince first"—loads him on a speedboat, and "enthrones" him on Ganghwa Island.
No, bad word choice—"restores" him like King Seonjo. Anyway, that safety net was solid enough.
The Crown Prince nodded solemnly at my explanation, then took my hand.
"There might be people plotting against you on the tributary road. Flee if needed. They won't harshly punish a mere military officer for it—I'll shield you."
Oho, finally proactive. Does he know gratitude? Has he really been reading the Western Classics diligently?
But my thoughts crumbled at his next words.
"And China must abound in strange arts and culture, so please don't neglect learning Northern Studies thoroughly. You'll bring back the right books, I'm sure."
There it is from this hardcore Northern Studies nut.
While Park Ji-won writes Jehol Diary and Nobleman Diary, I'll be stuck with the adults-only smut editions.
Still, his composure was a relief. Panicking was the last thing he needed now.
By the time I'd wrapped up coordination with Kim Seong-eung, the departure date loomed close.
Honestly, on evaluating the Naryeok Army, Yeongjo and I saw eye to eye.
But they were experts in their field.
Prince Naryeok adeptly commanded the roughly 300-strong envoy party with poise and savvy unbelievable for a revolving debtor.
After the farewell audience and exiting the capital, he turned to me instead of Zheng Guangzhong—the king's named favorite turned vice envoy—and said,
"Thanks to your help, we're somewhat stocked on funds, but we can't waste any. Hurry as much as possible."
I absentmindedly agreed.
Until I realized what "hurry" meant from Prince Naryeok Yi Taeng, great-great-grandson of King Seonjo.
I fanned myself with a sigh.
"Whew. We raced here so hard my ears whistled, missing Pakyeon's Yeonpok Falls, reciting no poems atop Pyongyang's Yeon-gwang Pavilion, straight to Uiju."
No wonder clowns like Konishi could nab him.
Our Eastern faction circle's top artist, Jeong Seon aka Gyunjae, smacked his lips too. I'd probed if he'd be useful in China; sure enough, the travel addict tagged along eagerly.
"Not belittling the grace from Chunsik, but this old man's final tour—I hate missing any spot. Ah well, we can leisurely sightsee on the way back from China."
Then Jang-bok, gripping the pony reins, groaned like he'd crawled from hell.
"Are famous sites and poems that disappointing, milord? This servant would sell his kids for a place to crash right now."
Turning, his face looked hell-crawled too.
Once plump and servant-blessed, now gaunt, feet filthy barefoot, clothes in rags.
Tsk. A prestigious house servant must self-manage impeccably. Where's that gutsy firebrand who egged me into the inferno?
"That's the gap between yangban and servant. You'll never grasp it."
"Let us ride a horse once like you lords, and we'd get it."
That cheek wasn't Jang-bok.
I glanced at Changdae beside Hong Dae-yong, similarly ragged.
I'd known since his Hamgyong undercover stint: the guy's mouth runs wild. As family, I decided to discipline for Hong Dae-yong.
"Eoji! Grab that Changdae punk. Wants to ride? Lash him to the pony's tail."
Eoji, barely winded, yawned and cracked knuckles; Changdae bolted. Park Ji-won roared laughing.
I tossed new straw sandals to sulky Jang-bok encouragingly.
"Anyway, the hardship's nearly over."
"Crossing the river's China—unfamiliar mountains and rivers, won't it be tougher?"
Nah. Once in China, Emperor Qianlong pampers Joseon envoys—no more penny-pinching motive.
Besides, barreling into Shenyang like this? General Seong-gyeong would blare alarms: "Joseon raid!" With footnote: "Elite troops surpassing Eight Banners speed."
Plus, we had to halt at Uiju inevitably.
For border inspection.
Isolationist Joseon's checks were rigorous. More silver than allowed, or contraband? Surrender before the three camp gates.
Caught at first: caning. Second: exile. Third: head on a pike.
This was overseen by Uiju's vice magistrate, a rank-2 high official—not some hack.
Someone who discerns who to bust and who to let slide.
The three chiefs (chief envoy, vice, secretary) skipped inspection, so I dumped all my silver into Prince Naryeok's luggage for easy pass.
Fools naively caught and caned eyed me suspiciously—tough luck, revolt if you hate it.
For Samhwadang, temporary affiliation with Uiju merchants' guild (dissolve on return) meant hefty fees upfront; guildsmen showed "comrade" courtesy.
Merchants colluded deeply with Yalu west thugs Gil-sang mentioned—often indistinguishable. Hence "Yongman (Dragon Bend, Uiju)" merchants mislabeled as Manchu traders.
Samhwadang contraband was long smuggled via merchant courier across the Yalu. Illegal residents living off Joseon envoys would kindly porter to Beijing.
So I focused on my true goal.
Trade? Nah, Lee Jae-un handles from Beijing.
"Behold, the Zhou dynasty ritual vessel verified by scholars."
"If it's not even in China, why here?"
"Tsk! Don't you know Qin Shi Huang tried seizing the Nine Tripods by force, only for them to sink? Bound to be gone from China. But Jizi brought them to Joseon first in the East."
Or,
"These are pages from the long-lost Classic of Music."
"Why in Joseon?"
"Come on, didn't you hear? Qin Shi Huang burned books, buried scholars—any scraps left in China? Jizi brought these too."
Jizi and Qin Shi Huang rising from graves to chase us (Qin might take longer finding the exit)—that's the sales pitch Lee Jae-un ran.
"Previous missions never had this stuff..."
When suspicious Jurchens felt scammed, Lee Jae-un shamelessly name-dropped me.
"Joseon's evidential scholarship boomed lately, finally excavating these. Our officer Kim Chunsik is a master therein, just young so unknown in China. Doubt it? Hear a performance by Hong Deok-bo, Kim Chunsik's brother-in-law and Classic of Music expert."
Hong Dae-yong had his uses! Lee Jae-un was my trusted talent.
Hong balked at performing for merchants before officials, but succumbed to my bribe: overlook your Beijing Western scholar hunts (non-pirates).
Business or Cha Je-gong's spying?
Nope. Park Ji-won handled such trivia sans post.
I sent him with Jeong Seon to play tourist; he returned thrilled.
"Brother! Look at this. Folks say brick houses beat ondol rooms—nope. Quick to build by anyone, heat doesn't leak everywhere."
"China's carts galore—true! Detailed drawings commissioned from Gyunjae. Learned horse breeding too—for Chunsik Ranch.
(Whispering) Who am I? Didn't miss Phoenix City's walls, Shenyang forts, troops. Hear Kangxi Emperor brutally punished gunpowder makers, wiping firearms domestically. Not airtight, though."
Got it. Scribble in Jehol Diary. Future views incoming.
Ming lost to Jurchens sans guns/cannon? Nah, rule by virtue alone.
It's how many sages like me exist—not weapons. Time for Gangnam Daeseong advanced Neo-Confucian course on return.
I had weightier matters than trade or intel.
I'd mobilized Gil-sang pre-departure; Pyeongan update confirmed Jo Dong-ha likely alive. As Gil-sang said, trailed down Yalu.
Dead serious. Fled northmost to plant flag on Great Wall, bark orders at Joseon (verbally)—that's Jo's conviction.
But borrowing Qing troops to hit Joseon? Delusion. Too dumb for that, he'd be caught already.
No massive funds traceless; not self-recruiting. Likely like Yoon I and Lee Cho—Goryeo loyalists who swapped Lee Seong-gye's dad, royally screwing Joseon.
Yeongjo eating it? Welcome. Joseon? My headache.
Yoon I and Lee Cho bolted straight to Ming capital Nanjing. That spot-on choice birthed 200 years of nightmares for Joseon.
Jo Dong-ha probably same. Teaming "up north"? Needs ironclad protection.
For Qianlong amid Junggar extermination, pressuring Joseon like Hongwu Emperor? Tempting card.
Combining that deduction with local intel, pegging Beijing as Jo's destination, I hastened.
Before Jo's gale hits Joseon, twist it my way. Practical scholars nitpicking "sightsee more" got ear-dragged along.
But arriving Beijing at last, I totally forgot Jo Dong-ha.
We entered from the east. Outside the walls, I gawked skyward.
"What a sunset. Jang-bok, into the inn before dark. Mouth's dry too. Hustle—dinner awaits."
Jang-bok stared like some ministers eyed Yeongjo: dementia geezer treatment.
"Lunch was how long ago, and dinner talk?"
Even future revolutionary prospect Changdae chimed in.
"Eyes blind or what? Can't spot sunset tail."
While Changdae dangled upside-down by Eoji for real this time, I whipped west again.
Not a sunset.
I toggled off Sin Suk-ju's integrity—kept on for unknown Chinese lately.
Then toggled back on.
I wanted to scream. Like dangling Changdae.
'Scam?')
No Yeongjo-level intimidation. That's why I missed it.
Fear armed thugs or beasts, not sea or sun—despite latters' overwhelming energy.
The aura blanketing the Forbidden City was purely "natural."
Definitely not some Jo Dong-ha.
Undeniable.
Master of humanity, Aisin Gioro Hongli.
Emperor Qianlong.
Author's Note
1. Changdae reappears after the undercover inspector arc. As mentioned then, historical "Jang-bok" and "Changdae" were Park Ji-won's servants on the actual mission.
2. Not sold to China, but many Qing scholars believed the ancient-lost "Classic of Music" survived in Joseon. Confucianism prizes music highly.
Like post-Cultural Revolution Chinese scholars flocking to Korea for Stone Classics etc., Joseon envoys fielded "Any Jizi Music Classics?" from Chinese literati. Consensus even then: "Never existed."
3. Yoon I and Lee Cho, Goryeo ministers fled to Ming post-Lee Seong-gye—not true loyalists. Their dad-swap forgery (Ming knew fake but backed for leverage) sparked 200-year Kindred Change strife.