Chapter 147
Chapter 147
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Master of Humanity (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Passing through the West Chang'an Gate and entering Tiananmen Gate, two black elephants stood right in front.
Hmm. Their size was similar, but compared to that massive portrait of the lascivious, reverse-headed tiger hanging at the 21st-century Tiananmen, these looked far better.
But how on earth did people in this era control and transport monsters like elephants or giraffes without tranquilizer guns or trailers?
Facing them without any enclosure was truly terrifying. Without King Seongjong's blessing, I wouldn't have dared approach.
The chief envoy, Nakchang-gun, must have thought this was my first time seeing an elephant. He pointed at it with his horsewhip and chuckled.
"That's the largest beast under heaven, with a truly bizarre trunk! One swing of it, and tigers or leopards drop dead. If it hits a person, their flesh rots away—best to be careful."
What, is the elephant some kind of biological weapon?
Fortunately, the elephant didn't fly into a rage at the humans mocking it and trample the envoys. We entered the Forbidden City safely.
It was before the New Year's court assembly, and only the Joseon envoys had been summoned separately, so no envoys from other countries were present. A group from Ryukyu seemed to be finishing up some business and leaving.
One of them approached us and said something. Deputy Vice Envoy Kim Gwangguk, intrigued, called him over for a chat.
Then he turned to me.
"Chunsik. You know about the Liberation Squadron, right? They're making a fuss about pirates near Ryukyu who seem to be Joseon people. No matter how much we deny it, they won't listen."
Are these guys slandering us with some nonsense?
Would they take responsibility if the emperor heard? I should contact the Satsuma guys and tell them to manage their sugar mills better.
"We have no time for such teasing nonsense. We must hurry inside."
I quickly called for the interpreter. Honestly, getting involved with Ryukyu myself would look suspicious. And interpreter Seo Jonghyeon handled it in a way I never could have imagined.
Seo Jonghyeon came running over and kicked the Ryukyuan right in the butt.
A real kick to the rear.
Yeah, thinking about it, Seo Jonghyeon probably doesn't speak Ryukyuan either. But sometimes I just can't grasp this era's sense of etiquette.
I half-hoped the Ryukyuan might unleash some secret Ryukyu karate from a past-life comic, but he just fled in panic.
That reminded me of the Dutchman who were just as good at slander. I quietly asked the chief envoy.
"Will the Red-Haired Thieves not be coming, by any chance?"
"I heard Hongmo Kingdom pays tribute to the Qing too, so they should be here. But I haven't seen them yet this year."
"Like those Ryukyuans earlier, won't the Red-Haired Thieves slander us to the emperor?"
"No need to worry. When we arrived, we already presented our credentials and detailed their invasions. The Red-Haired Thieves have been plaguing our borders since the Ming days—whom do you think the emperor will believe now? Ah, the Qing courtiers are entering. We'd better hurry too."
Once the Qing courtiers had taken their places, the Qianlong Emperor soon appeared.
I can only say he "appeared."
What I saw were soldiers leading with red silk lanterns, carts corresponding to the five directions and elements pulled by elephants (they really love their elephants), and large feather fans [扇] turning in perfect order.
By the time I came to my senses, the emperor who had been outside the gate was already seated majestically inside the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
To most people here, it must have looked like amid the fluttering flags and scurrying attendants, the emperor suddenly manifested.
Like an absolute being where the result precedes the cause.
The Board of Rites officials (after boasting that the emperor was giving special favor to the Joseon envoys) delivered the emperor's first edict.
"Is there anyone among the Joseon envoys who speaks Manchu?"
These guys and their "Do you know Kim?" routine are getting tiresome.
After all these years of hearing "no," shouldn't they just give up? Joseon people have their tongues steeped in Chunqiu Daeyi and Jongwang Yangi, so they can't speak your barbarian tongue.
Meanwhile, Nakchang-gun trembled with joy, thrilled that his foresight had been correct.
"This time, a young man of outstanding literary talent and fine appearance has come, and he speaks Manchu."
Not a single lie in those words, so why does it piss me off so much?
The Qianlong Emperor finally praised the conquered Joseon's linguistic vanguard and summoned me.
What choice did I have? I had no option but to follow the eunuch's guidance and step forward to the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
I performed the rites with skill slightly short of King Injo's, and the emperor spoke.
"You are a man of exceptional bearing. It must be the virtue of the East's splendid mountains and rivers."
Any suspicion like Jeong Gwangchung's would be absurd. Ming envoys said the same to King Munjong—what ulterior motive was there?
The emperor had no intention of using me as a Great Qing specialty, the "leather wine cup" [敬皮杯, a pretty boy serving drinks].
They call it shin-eon-seo-pan—appearance, speech, writing, judgment. In this era, looks were the standard for evaluating character. Whether emperor or scholar, any assessment of a man started with whether his appearance was fine or lacking.
So the next remark shouldn't be misinterpreted either.
"Come closer and lift your head."
I obeyed the imperial command.
Thus, I had the rare experience—shared by only a few in the Qing—of facing the Qianlong Emperor directly.
Beneath the supernatural halo, he was a affable middle-aged man. His slightly curved eye corners even held a hint of a smile.
His lean but healthy build boasted the vigor of a Jurchen khan who hunted and shot bears himself each year, while his sparse beard showed the refinement of a Han emperor. The flanking Mongol guards attested to the great khan's qualification, bearing the seal of the Borjigin golden clan.
The lord of all must embody all. The master of humanity, present across the world, thus shows different faces to each of his subjects.
Or, in drier political terms, the joint sovereign of a confederation.
And the same held for Tibet, the Qing's incredibly valued partner in the inconceivable Dzungar conquest.
The Qianlong Emperor, incarnation of Manjushri, touched the jeweled rosary around his neck.
"Is the Joseon king's lineage prospering?"
"By the Son of Heaven's grace, all is well. Our king has one grown son as crown prince, and the crown prince has four sons of his own."
"Is that so? I worried for the precious Joseon royal heirs, but the crown prince's merit is great."
Indeed. My merit is great too. History doesn't detail how many sons the crown prince had, but my contribution to the Qing annals must be substantial.
Wait, the crown prince's merit?
The emperor personally removed the rosary and had the eunuch present it to me.
"In the past, King Jangmok's son, Prince Wang (炡, Crown Prince Sohyeon), stayed in Shenyang for a time. He was brilliant and steadfast, but his early death was tragic. To show my grace, I bestow this upon you. Go and convey my praise to the king and crown prince. If the royal house flourishes its heirs further, so I may entrust the East to them eternally, I desire nothing more."
It's clear. The mention of the king was mere courtesy; the Qianlong Emperor was declaring support for the crown prince.
Bringing up Crown Prince Sohyeon proved it. Even the Qing knew the disloyal rumors about him?
I recalled my original purpose, forgotten amid the tension.
Why had the Qianlong Emperor summoned us? Rumors of Jo Dongha had reached his ears.
From his words and actions, he had already received reports from his spies.
Not at our initial summons, but now, days later.
In other words, he recognized the political rivalry between Yeongjo and Sado Seja. If you turn the king pro-Qing, we'll look the other way. "Entrust the East eternally."
Impressive. I thought this barbarian king, summoning us so directly, was clueless, but he resolved it this smoothly.
Amazed, I prepared to withdraw.
But the emperor's mercy had no end.
"Even among the Eight Banners, many forget the old tongue and learn only official speech. Henceforth, let all subjects of the realm emulate Kim Unhaeng. This is my special commendation to him."
Then a eunuch brought a box adorned with jewels and gold.
Inside was a painting that oddly resembled the background of some doujinshi.
Unlike doujinshi, the margins held poetry fit for a chamber pot instead of illustrations.
For the first time, I saw the Board of Rites officials' apologetic expressions. A sidelong glance showed the Qing courtiers collectively embarrassed.
But I saw no issue. Not because the box looked expensive.
This painting, likely from Park Jiwon and Jeong Seon's mischief, depicted Beijing's cityscape.
"This means they'll overlook anything espionage-related with leniency."
The softest rebuke the emperor could give. Whether eager to wrap up the Dzungar campaign or to saddle Joseon with diplomatic debt, it was good for me.
So I should show sincerity in return.
Right there, I recited the childish verse loudly, like a song, and shed tears.
Thinking of my plight—far from home, forced to say "Nice shot, Chairman" to those status window scammers and troll Silhak scholars—naturally brought forth tears of rage.
"Even the poetry of Li Bai and Du Fu reached the East Seas, yet it cannot touch the hem of Your Majesty's lofty grace."
Even among the Qing courtiers, some seemed moved to tears by my struggle for my country. Our distant Joseon envoys must wonder why they're all sobbing in unison.
Perhaps because his own verse—subtly dissed anonymously before—was now objectively validated by a Joseon man of letters, the emperor gladly bestowed further mercy.
"I have always shown special favor to Joseon. Speak your desires, envoys."
What more could Joseon envoys want?
We couldn't demand mass suicide in Great King Jangmok's name, so just shorten the tribute duration or stay. I'd gotten the script from Nakchang-gun beforehand.
After saying that, I suddenly recalled the Ryukyuans from earlier and the Russians from days ago.
Shall I test the emperor's goodwill once more?
"Lately, invasions by Red-Haired Thieves and other Westerners have grown frequent. We Joseon have already repelled them, proving our resolve to defend Your Majesty with one heart. If you discern their slanders with great wisdom and virtue, we subjects desire nothing more."
The Qianlong Emperor's final reply was surprisingly curt.
"Approved."
While Kim Unhaeng was meeting the emperor—and shedding tears thinking of them—the two "troll" Silhak scholars were at the Tianzhu Church.
Hallerstein rejoiced at the Catholic newbie 1+1 deal and prepared baptisms, but this time both had heard Kim Unhaeng's words.
"Western teachings peculiarly demand burning ancestral tablets, betraying one's lord, and devoting solely to a long-dead magician ghost—like shamans. Please don't fall for it."
Not personal grudge against Christianity, but wariness of Western culture arriving with Catholicism. Orthodox Noron Kim Unhaeng's foreign policy was expel the foreigners, close the borders.
The notion of missionaries as spearheads of imperialism resonated even here.
Hong Daeyong and Park Jiwon wielded the Confucian ultimate technique—need parental permission—and politely declined.
Hallerstein backed off for now.
With Chinese so pragmatically devouring calendars, astronomy, and mechanics while blocking Catholic ads, he needed caution to avoid the same in Joseon.
The mood soon returned to scholarly exchange.
Today's highlight: musical instruments, specifically the pipe organ.
"Oh ho. Press this pipe for that note, that one for this. The pitch rising from here to there must come from differences in the inner parts' length and thickness—like blowing wind into varied tubes for different tones, akin to the sheng's principle."
"Exactly. Shall I have someone play for you?"
Far friendlier than original history's curt attitude, Hallerstein called a performer for a demonstration.
Hong Daeyong, eyes closed listening, soon stepped up to play himself.
Hallerstein smilingly consented. In his mind, making any sound would mark one as clever.
But Hong Daeyong was among Joseon's top amateur gayageum players.
Joseon music didn't suit it well, so he briskly played a snippet of Beijing street performers' tunes he'd heard en route.
Hallerstein was astounded.
"Your first time? Unbelievable. Does Joseon have similar instruments?"
"Not really. Ah, isn't that a yangqin? We have those."
With the yangqin next, Hong Daeyong showed far greater skill.
Hallerstein, and even Anton Gogeisl who disliked Joseon folk, were impressed.
Hong Daeyong pulled another scam.
"We're here now, but if opportunity arises, I'd love Westerners to visit Joseon and spread these widely."
To the priests' ears, it sounded like "hurry and evangelize Joseon."
From the parental permission bit, Joseon seemed to have strict religious rules (as anywhere), so relying on Hong Daeyong alone was risky.
Here, the Jesuits—who passed harsh trials—must step up. Laypeople couldn't fend off the unnatural beast called Protestants.
"We'll surely send clock-bearers."
"Much appreciated."
As Hong Daeyong intended, Park Jiwon took it as trade talk.
To Park Jiwon, numbed by years with Kim Unhaeng, it was within bounds.
So he fretted elsewhere.
Park Jiwon chatted mainly about power components with the missionaries, while Hong Daeyong bought not just the automata he eyed, but even glasses and sunglasses that screamed luxury.
But Hong Daeyong was splashing what seemed his own money: jeongchae (bribes and fees for envoys to Qing officials), a budgeted item, not black money.
"Uh, isn't that public funds? Better to ask Chunsik-hyung for more money..."
But Hong Daeyong scolded Park Jiwon's timidity.
"Don't fret over trifles and miss opportunities. I can't say details, but Chunsik will be enfeoffed as a duke's merit subject upon return. Who'd quibble over a few silver taels then?"
Hong Daeyong slightly misunderstood Kim Unhaeng capturing Jo Dongha.
"He's hidden now, but Chunsik must have stashed him somewhere."
Faking a capture near the Yalu and doctoring reports? Child's play for Kim Unhaeng. What fault in Hong Daeyong, great contributor to traitor-hunting, using some funds?
But Park Jiwon, who met Yinjia with Kim Unhaeng and faced espionage charges, was shocked differently.
"You mean report 'that' on the way to meet the emperor?"
"Envoys reporting directly would be improper. The maritime customs officials will handle it, no?"
In Park Jiwon's view, Joseon envoys defending in the Forbidden City that our king planned no Shenyang invasion was unimaginable. Success might merit reward, though.
Hong Daeyong's rebel plot assumption was similar. Thus, their mismatched talk flowed smoothly.
"What if unrest erupts?"
"No chance. At worst, border generals get sacked for failing to block crossings. You've heard roughly?"
Park Jiwon nodded. Hong Daeyong, wary from prior Joseon presence here, cut the chat.
The two returned to lodgings with more "major trash" Kim Unhaeng would lament.
In conclusion, Hong Daeyong was right.
Three days after Kim Unhaeng's audience, General Qingbao of the Shengjing garrison was dismissed for failing frontline duty against a notorious rumor-monger infiltrating Beijing.
His successor was unimpeachably fitting.
Aisin Gioro Hong Yeom, already seasoned as Mongol White Banner Commander-in-Chief, lacked nothing as capital defense supreme commander over the Eight Banners. As the emperor's brother, loyalty was assured.
He suited Shengjing's other key duty: regulating Joseon-Qing trade. Everyone knew his business acumen.
As Kim Unhaeng predicted, not the full Dzungar expeditionary force, but Qianlong gave Hong Yeom over 10,000 troops to "strengthen border defenses."
The meteor meant to obliterate Dzungar veered east in fragments.
And naturally, the doom fated for the west diminished slightly in mass.
Author's Notes
1. By now, readers likely guess: during Hong Daeyong's mission, Joseon interpreter Seo Jonghyeon really kicked a Ryukyuan similarly. Not even over Ryukyu complaints—the vice envoy just curiously questioned him.
2. Jingpi bei, "offering the leather cup," was a Qing drinking game where (usually a pretty boy actor) transfers wine mouth-to-mouth via a leather cup. No record of Qianlong doing it.
3. For Tibet control, Qianlong propagandized as Manjushri incarnation. Manchu and Manjushri sound alike (true), so "we Manchu are Manjushri." Tibetans, not wanting to die, went along.
4. Post-Jeongjo ascension, Qianlong did bestow his rosary thus. Jeongjo was thrilled and grateful, but ministers couldn't hold back, grilling him on where Chunqiu Daeyi went.
5. Hong Daeyong did try the pipe organ meeting Hallerstein—beginner level, like first piano scales or "Up, up, airplane." No performer in real history, so even genius Hong couldn't; Hallerstein snickered beside him.