Chapter 144
Chapter 144
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 144
Chapter Title: Northern Scholars' Adventure (2)
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Meanwhile, Park Jiwon had overheard that the best view of Beijing was from the tower at Fazang Temple, so he was heading there.
The vistas from the back of the Forbidden City at Wanshou Mountain or the city walls were superior, of course. But Park Jiwon had no intention of risking his life for a Beijing cityscape.
So, he set off for Fazang Temple with Jeong Seon, with whom he had grown quite close through their spying escapades.
That didn't mean Park Jiwon was any more rational than Hong Daeyong just because he was avoiding dangerous antics.
"We couldn't find an interpreter, but... it's a temple, so there'll be monks around. We can grab one or two, give them a good scare, and make them guide us."
Jeong Seon, the humble artist, detected no moral flaw in Park Jiwon's words. Honestly, they were the ones losing out by having to mingle with those monk scum.
At least this was a foreign land, so they wouldn't resort to beatings. The reason Joseon Christians stayed 'comfortably' in prison might have been because they saw it as akin to a temple.
The sightseeing trip of these two holy Confucian warrior knights from the Sage Kingdom seemed poised to go smoothly.
Until they arrived at Fazang Temple, that is.
True to form as a top-tier artist, Jeong Seon scanned the surroundings in an instant. Then he summed it up in one concise phrase.
"Too many people."
Embassies weren't sent from Joseon alone. From nearby Russia and Mongolia to distant lands straight out of some Western travelogue, pilgrims from all over came to pay homage to the lord of humanity, in all their variety.
And as places where people live tend to be much the same, plenty from other countries pulled strings for these overseas trips.
Such crowds naturally flocked to famous hotspots like Fazang Temple.
Park Jiwon, who had envisioned overwhelming a monk sweeping quietly in a serene mountain temple with a Confucian battle cry, was thrown off.
It barely felt like a temple. Braided hair, loose hair, topknots, pointed hats, flat hats—every style imaginable was there in droves, but not a single shiny bald head, the kind Park Jiwon sought.
'How can they practice asceticism and cultivate the Way amid all this? Are they all rogue monks who broke their precepts?'
In truth, Joseon's severe suppression of non-Confucians had driven temples into the mountains. Religious sites naturally belonged in the capital, where donors could easily visit. Joseon had been the same under Goryeo.
"A temple this grand and imposing must be state-sponsored like Zifu Temple, so the monks won't heed our commands."
"Indeed."
At that moment, slightly awkward Joseon speech came from behind them.
"From Goryeo, are you?"
Like modern Koreans, Joseon natives wouldn't mistake "Korea" from a foreigner for a medieval dynasty. They turned around.
There stood a well-dressed Manchu boy accompanied by an elderly steward. The steward was the one speaking.
"That's right. Are you from Joseon, old timer?"
"In my youth, I lived near the book market and picked up some late Goryeo dialect."
He stepped aside smoothly, as if hoping they'd treat the boy with great respect.
And from what he said, it seemed warranted.
"Our young master here is the emperor's nephew and destined for high office. He wanted to meet the Goryeo envoys, so here we are."
But the queue-cut hair already made him repulsive to any Joseon man.
With the world under barbaric rule, even a skinhead with a swastika tattoo could be from a noble house. Yet no refined person could feel reverence there.
The claim of "emperor's nephew" sounded laughable. Would a true one wander these bustling streets with just one servant?
Even Emperor Xian was Liu Bei's nephew—probably some distant relation like that. Park Jiwon smirked and teased the boy.
"Looks about ten. 'Young master'? Your Joseon is clumsy, old timer. What's that at the young lord's waist? Let me see it."
It was the same East Asian joshing as with Hong Daeyong. Not being Westerners, the boy understood and pulled the glass snuff bottle from his belt, handing it over.
He said something to the servant, who translated into Joseon.
"Our master would like one of your heart-clearing pills."
Nine out of ten Chinese, upon meeting a Joseon man, demanded heart-clearing pills first. The remaining one was a VIP you had to offer them to unprompted.
Park Jiwon made a 'figures' face and handed one over. (A fake from Kim Unhaeng.)
"But I'm not after the snuff—I'm curious about that glass lantern-like case. Made of real glass?"
Park Jiwon's interest stemmed from his brother-in-arms Kim Chunsik seeking glass over pottery to boost the healing power of his Chunsik Armor lately.
If he could import a lot, he could sell it at Samhwadang. There was no law saying only Kim Unhaeng could be a scholar-entrepreneur.
Glass wasn't cheap even in the Qing, though, and the boy pretended not to hear.
'Stingy little... so he really is Qing royalty?'
As Park Jiwon pondered offering another pill, Jeong Seon stepped in.
"It's rude in front of the temple. Come over here a moment. I'll show you something not even China has."
Soon after, Aisin Gioro Yongpung—illegitimate son of Aisin Gioro Hongyeom (Prince Darao Guo Gong Gun Wang, son of the Yongzheng Emperor and thus truly a cousin to the Qianlong Emperor, though not treated as formal kin, as Park Jiwon guessed)—cheerfully gifted the glass snuff case and a golden hairpin.
Not only that, he parted the crowds and escorted Park Jiwon and Jeong Seon to the top of the tower. It was the most beautiful moment in over a century of Joseon-Qing diplomacy since King Jangmok.
Back home, as Jeong Seon sketched Beijing's scenery for his album, Park Jiwon asked,
"Is this okay?"
"You believe that 'imperial nephew' nonsense? He looked noble enough, but he's probably just bragging as some low-ranking bannerman from the Yanghuangqi, the emperor's top registry clan."
"I know that. But that kid's already so worldly at his age..."
"Don't they say in Japan that boys master the arts of the bedchamber early? Jurchens or Japanese, they're all the same. Even those paintings Chuns... Hong Jinsa sells to Japan have that vibe."
Park Jiwon lamented the coarsening customs.
At any rate, he couldn't imagine Jeong Seon as a key creator of those 'Japan-bound paintings,' here at Fazang Temple collecting backdrop references for sales to Japan-obsessed admirers of China.
He hesitated to pry further. Tourists who had seen Jeong Seon's artistic brushwork gathered, clapping and praising without restraint.
Unable to compete, Park Jiwon tried adding his (self-proclaimed) Joseon calligraphy beside the painting, but Jeong Seon smacked his hand away.
"I have to add something here later. Don't touch it."
Park Jiwon grumbled inwardly at the old man's petty jealousy. He knew Jeong Seon lacked literary talent, barely signing his own works, let alone adding poems.
Had he known all of Jeong Seon's grand paintings, Park Jiwon would have been too moved to speak.
Kim Unhaeng placed a very friendly hand on Jo Dongha's shoulder.
Then he rattled off like a machine gun.
"Thank you so much. This man's like an uncle on my wife's side. He crossed the Yalu by mistake two years ago and vanished without a trace. That's why I joined this delegation to find him. Who'd have thought he'd be in Beijing! What fortune to reunite a good man like you. Right, Uncle?"
Hallerschtaan figured Jo Dongha wouldn't respond. Even if not mute, he wouldn't understand German.
"Where did you learn our language?"
"Oh, you didn't know? The Dutch East India Company came to Joseon. I learned from them."
"That's unusually fluent for that... not sailor slang either. And don't they trade only with Japan?"
Japanese and Joseon were often confused even by Chinese; this Westerner was too sharp. Kim Unhaeng flinched but quickly covered.
"Right. Not official trade—storm-tossed castaways who ended up there."
Kim Unhaeng couldn't accurately gauge Hallerschtaan's stats.
Activating skills in the city dyed the whole landscape sunset-hued. Like fire within fire, outlines blurred. Emperor Qianlong's special force aura was truly cheat-level.
So, instead of persuasive rhetoric varying by target, Kim Unhaeng offered a universally effective ploy.
"How tough must it be pioneering churches and missionary work in this distant land? I've long heard of Jesus Christ's love, so allow me this modest 'offering'."
Hallerschtaan ended all doubts about Kim Unhaeng's identity right then.
Faith, hope, love—greatest is the offering. Only those of little faith doubt.
A man deep-scanning with Insight posing as a poor pioneer cleric didn't quite fit, but the Qing did restrict religious activities heavily.
Hallerschtaan's mildly illicit missions needed funds badly. Kim Unhaeng's line about "hearing of Jesus Christ's love (on 21st-century subways)" moved him deeply.
"Oh, brother! The Lord loves you. Have you encountered the Gospel before? The Dutch abandoned faith long ago."
"Haha, those godless Dutch? I heard it via China. Your evangelism reached far-off Joseon."
Hallerschtaan, Habsburg servant and Jesuit 'pillar' whose existential mission was eradicating the Reformation, agreed vehemently on Dutch apostasy.
The two bonded quickly. Hallerschtaan even wanted to accommodate Kim Unhaeng a bit.
"But this offering is too much. You came far without travel funds..."
"The Lord commanded twice to sell all and give to the poor—how could we stint on that sum?"
Korean military religious training was no mere snack break. Reeling off Gospel verses that puzzled even locals here, Kim Unhaeng had Hallerschtaan tearing up in感動.
Eyeing that, Kim Unhaeng tugged Jo Dongha along.
"Take care, then. I'll handle Uncle..."
But Hong Daeyong, silent from ignorance of German, suddenly interjected.
"Looks like it went well—could we take one or two instruments instead of Chunsik's money?"
Kim Unhaeng shot Hong Daeyong a 'damn it, Virtue Bro! What bullshit?' glare, but Hallerschtaan wiped his tears and consented.
"I'm not selling for the offering, but as thanks for awakening me to the Gospel's light even in the Far East, instruments are no loss. Pick what you like. And brother, never forget the heart in that watch..."
"Of course. We learned Easterners of Ye learning never neglect promises."
Kim Unhaeng eyed scholarly Hong Daeyong skeptically, doubting historical records. No thought of who corrupted history.
Anyway, Kim Unhaeng secured Jo Dongha, and Hong Daeyong, loaded with celestials and gadgets via Changdae, had achieved their goals.
Of course, if Hallerschtaan were the type to give away innards at a few words, the Jesuits wouldn't have spent a fortune sending him to China.
He had achieved his aim too. 'Good' and 'foolish' seem synonymous to the crooked, but they're unrelated.
With noisy guests gone, Hallerschtaan summoned his Insight-piercing Jesuit colleague, Anton Gogaistel from Regensburg.
Gogaistel frowned at the tale. His face screamed, 'Joseon scum?' Hallerschtaan quickly defended.
"Even Samaritans have good ones, Levites the wicked. It's everywhere."
"I know. What am I, a seminary kid? Anyway, you want to send someone to Joseon?"
Gogaistel was no green seminarian but a veteran missionary-politician. Hallerschtaan savored the brisk talk.
"Exactly. Even assuming those today were con men, I got two undeniable facts. Christianity known in Joseon. And the Dutch East India Company reached Joseon 'as a company' somehow."
Hallerschtaan spoke fervently.
"No lone castaway fits. We must act before Protestants pollute that unknown eastern land. I'll draft a report—let's discuss."
"Hm. I think China missions first, but it's low-effort, so fine. Judgment's from above. Though this offering shows Joseon folk aren't utterly unsavable."
"Right?"
They smiled happily. Spreading the Gospel was truly joyful work.
With that ruckus, I had no choice but to whisper the (public-facing) story to Hong Daeyong.
'Tricking traitor Jo Dongha to capture him for merit. Revealing now would let the chief and deputy envoys hog the glory, so let's cover it up.'
Hong Daeyong nodded with an indignant 'sneaky bastard' look. Who're you to talk, you who scammed a missionary? Heavenly punishment for you.
Sending him off with Changdae to fiddle with that giant junk at the inn, I dragged Jo Dongha into a back alley.
Then sighed deeply. Whew. One bum brother-in-law, and I'm the one suffering.
Jo Dongha hesitated.
"Who are you to help me...?"
Good. As a long-time frontier bandit, he doesn't know me.
No time to waste—I spat the secret Hyeon Cham-dang code.
"Crab stew and raw persimmon."
About two seconds later, Jo Dongha's face changed. He whispered secretively,
"Sent by the 'elders' back home?"
How'd such a dimwit lead rebels? Explains the loss.
He thinks Hyeon Cham-dang cadres still linger domestically, huh?
Then I'm now a black ops agent for Hyeon Cham-dang.
"Truth is, the elders regretfully ordered your death to eliminate loose ends. The homeland's situation is dire, as you know."
Jo Dongha's face hardened again. I flowed on smoothly.
"But how could we discard your service like a worn rag? That'd make us no better than our muddled king. I persuaded them. In the end, they agreed to entrust you once more. Seeing you've come to Beijing proves your unspoken resolve."
"Y-yes. Just so."
I agree. Hurry and spill King Yeongjo's secret KakaoTalk room.
Worried about war? Nah.
Eavesdropping here, I timed it perfectly.
The lord of humanity is amassing huge forces for the Dzungar extermination rite. Meteor impact countdown engaged.
Even if Qianlong recoiled at Yeongjo's savagery, without preemptive Joseon invasion, he couldn't pivot those troops like some game. Like an unstoppable falling meteor.
Most interest groups tied to Dzungars lack reason to join/support without them as foe.
The Qing's somewhat confederate-like. War's just politics.
They'd have to replan from scratch, wasting fortunes and time.
No way they'd scrap an 80% complete Ten Battles No Merits quest over beggar-spread rumors.
Plus, per my knowledge, Qianlong split one war into two to rack up ten (Status Window, acknowledge that pls).
Not a wimp. Better to cheat history than start new wars. He knows when to retreat by weighing pros/cons.
But if this savage plot reaches him, some response is inevitable.
So the limit's obvious.
Just do that much. Cleanup's on 'loyal minister Kim Unhaeng'.
"Work till we return next New Year's, then flee to the book market and wait. I'll get you across the Yalu discreetly. Ensure no government troops catch you."
Of course. No Joseon troops will catch you. How do you catch a dead man? If doomed anyway, no regrets.
Jo Dongha thankfully agreed.
"For a life already forfeit, what can't I do? I'll see it done."
"Then we're done—urgent business. We never met."
I fetched new Chinese clothes and a silver pouch from Eoji's luggage, handed them over. Jo Dongha pocketed them and vanished into the dark.
Where's Park Jiwon? Not on some Northern Scholars' adventure fiasco like Hong Daeyong, I hope?
Author's Note
1. Hongyeom is indeed Qianlong Emperor's biological half-brother, but later adopted into a half-brother's lineage, so Yongpung is slightly removed in kinship.
You might find it odd for Joseon men to tease a self-proclaimed royal (I do too), but the early glass snuff bottle exchange is straight from Hong Daeyong's real deeds.
Fact and brag blur, but Hong Daeyong admired Qing institutions yet disdained Jurchens, noting 'refused to enter Zhaobing even to avoid bowing to Jurchen emperor (he went)' etc., emphasizing non-fawning Joseon scholar pride throughout records.
Thus, in Record of the Yulbyeong Envoy Journey, the teased royal kid's identity remains unknown, and Aisin Gioro Yongpung is fictional.
And yes, Park Jiwon (and Joseon scholars) gave fakes to beggars selectively.
2. Yongpung's real-life basis is Hongyeom's unnamed bastard with concubine Yu. Disliked by the principal wife, the son was outright ignored. When she wrote his elegy post-mortem, listing sons like Yongguan, Yonggan, etc., she wrote 'name unknown' for Yu's boy.
3. Anton Gogaistel was a real colleague of Hallerschtaan at the time. Both actually met Hong Daeyong. Jesuits were Catholicism's counter to Reformation, but didn't aim to exterminate Protestants breathlessly—strictness was mostly internal discipline.