Chapter 149
Chapter 149
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 149
Chapter Title: The Resolve for National Salvation (1)
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Ultimately, the true intentions behind dispatching those 10,000 troops to Manchuria this time were plain as day.
The official purpose was a warning to the King of Joseon, whose conduct was so lax that even ridiculous rumors of discussing an invasion of Shenyang had leaked out (and it was crucial in diplomatic rhetoric to emphasize that they were merely "rumors").
But the real aim was to pin down the elite provincial forces—the Northern Army of Joseon—that even the Three Clauses for Rectifying Administration couldn't touch.
The Qing wouldn't bother with something as inefficient as direct clashes; just by stationing troops there, they could immobilize the Northern Army. It was basically a message: "Go ahead, try your coup."
Afterward, they'd take all the credit, of course. If the next regime pursued anti-Qing policies, they'd cry betrayal and ingratitude.
But there's no need to repay favors to barbarians in the first place.
Zhu Xi said it best:
"Monkeys resemble humans in form and are the cleverest of beasts, save for their inability to speak. Barbarians [Yi-Di] dwell between man and beast, which is why they are so incorrigible."
That's not Hitler. It's Zhu Xi.
This "Yi-Di" includes the Khitans and even Goryeo. But given Zhu Xi's lifelong advocacy against the Jurchens, he clearly had the Jin Dynasty in mind.
The Song Emperor at the time—much like our King Hyeonjong—hated the Jurchens verbally like Zhu Xi did, yet honestly offered them 200,000 se of silver in tribute. Still, nominally, the Jurchens weren't considered human.
And the sole true heir to Zhu Xi's scholarship—Neo-Confucianism—is Joseon, the only place left in the world today.
Now you understand why most Northern School scholars couldn't land official posts, right?
Pro-Qing sentiments are a betrayal of humanity itself. That's why I get so worked up every time Hong Daeyong or Park Jiwon gushes "Ooh, this other world is amazing!" about the Qing.
If your goal is Joseon's prosperity and strength, cozying up to the Qing isn't a bad play. As the real-history Yeonam put it, the Jurchens—despised everywhere—would jump at the chance if Joseon extended a hand.
But I couldn't care less about national wealth and power.
Getting branded a pro-Qing faction member in court means kissing goodbye to any shot at Chief State Councillor.
Plus, if the Qianlong Emperor—who just crushed the Dzungars—uses "repaying favors" as an excuse to meddle more in Joseon, that'd be a disaster.
Even now, Qing interference is so heavy it's hard to call us an independent nation. They won't let us build up our military freely, diplomacy is out of the question, and they even meddle in appointments for northern border officials from time to time.
If it gets worse, ruling Joseon my way... no, according to the people's will... becomes impossible.
As someone from a 21st-century democratic republic, I can't stomach that.
So I summoned Hong Daeyong, who was lugging some weird Western gadget in his cart.
"Brother, I forgot something. Head back to the city for a bit. You had drinks with the Guwen Commander (Beijing garrison chief), right?"
"Yeah, but why?"
Regrettable, but unavoidable. I handed him the golden cross I'd taken from the Russians.
"Deliver this to the Arasa (Russians) in Namsogwan. It's precious to them, so don't lose it or pocket it."
"Pocket it? I'm not some swindler. If it's that important, why not send Jangbok or Eoji instead of—"
Ha, I'd never met such a shameless guy in my life.
"You're the one who skimmed from the tribute funds to buy junk like this, so I have to be cautious. If you don't want to, fine. I'll just write a detailed report on your crimes to the return envoy right now and—"
"I'll go right away. Any letters?"
There was. I gave him a letter written in Dutch.
I could speak Russian but hadn't learned the script, so I transliterated it into Dutch alphabet.
With two unfamiliar foreign languages mixed, no one could decode it even if they got hold of it.
Truth be told, I only realized after arriving in Beijing: foreign language interpretation in this era (for places we don't know well like Joseon-Mongol levels) is sloppy guesswork even in imperial audiences. You're lucky if they can even recognize the script.
If it gets found out? No big deal. That's why I'm sending Hong Daeyong instead of going myself.
I'll tell Se-hwa he died heroically for the nation. If things go well later, it'll be my brilliant "using the enemy to control the enemy" ploy.
Things seem headed for the latter. Thanks to his connections, Hong Daeyong returned unscathed with the exact response I'd hoped for—in the same coded style. Summary:
<We gratefully accept the apology for Hong In-han's misconduct. We understand the Qing Emperor's intentions toward Russia. We comprehend Joseon's helpless obedience to Qing commands. We will report this to our homeland to dispel any misunderstandings.>
I don't expect all-out war. Mutual suspicion or localized clashes would suffice.
I don't know the specifics of the Dzungar War, but unless all their brains are stuck in Genghis Khan days, someone will think of allying with nearby Russia.
In real history, Amursana fled to Russia for help but got rejected to avoid unnecessary friction with China. Not this time.
Time for some "unnecessary friction."
Once back, I should leak word through secret Japan-Dutch trade ships.
Blame it all on Qianlong's orders. We're a vassal state, right? While at it, pin it on Hong In-han too.
As long as the Qing's arrogance persists, even a tiny suspicion can balloon into blood feuds overnight.
Start killing each other now, you barbarians. Yi yi zhi yi.
The great painter Gyeomjae Jeong Seon turned his head from horseback.
He gazed at the Cheonmun Gate with deep emotion.
"Passing Cheonmun now, it really feels like we're back in Joseon. Thanks to Chunsik, I've had a once-in-a-lifetime journey."
I glared venomously at Jeong Seon's back.
No one knows the hell I went through, captured by Dalagonggunwang Hong Yeom all the way to Shenyang because of that guy.
Hong Yeom's rank? Roughly equivalent to our Crown Prince. The Joseon King is about a Prince of the Blood, and Dalagunwang (Doroi Giyunwang) is right below that.
Just like our Crown Prince, his intelligence spikes in these matters—he sniffed out my involvement from background similarities in the painting alone.
Try pulling that off. Now I see why Qianlong sent him: he's too dumb for actual "invasion work."
Hong Yeom ignored all delicate issues from troop garrisons, focusing solely on trade deals for Huai River commerce districts and Yuryongmok (no idea where he heard that).
Not because he's Dalagonggunwang, but because I didn't know what rumors he'd spread in Beijing if I refused.
No choice. Think of it as a chance to make money and scout Manchuria news.
While importing Qing goods at Cheonmun Post-Station for sale in Joseon, a frantic courier galloped up.
It was from Seo Jong-hyeon—the Ryuukyuu envoy kicker I'd sent as return envoy—who'd dispatched him ahead from Pyongyang.
Legation head Yi Taeng's face hardened as he read the news.
"We need to hurry. The Queen Dowager and Queen Mother are both said to be gravely ill."
The two inner palace ladies who'd kept our King from locking the Crown Prince in a granary were both sick now?
No way this bastard treats his wife and mother like brothers, right?
The Queen Dowager's faking it? Can't risk it. I need to get there fast with my modern medical knowledge...
Oh, right. I have none.
Even if I did, I couldn't examine the Queen and Queen Dowager.
Still, we had to rush. I said to Nakchang-gun,
"(Following your great-grandfather's example) can you speed up?"
Nakchang-gun didn't disappoint.
"That's nothing. The Eight Banners have been dragging us down anyway. Once we cross the Yalu, it's Joseon—let minor officials and servants trail slowly; high officials go ahead!"
Don't misunderstand: even in a rush, no modern person ditches their phone and bolts. It's only "servants of minor officials" trailing.
No Joseon person would misread it that way. Jangbok and Changdae's faces fell.
Ditching Hong Daeyong's big-trash self (he had to come as Huangli Master Interpreter), travel-blogger Jeong Seon, Park Jiwon, and other dead weight in Pyeongan-do streamlined the procession massively.
Surprisingly, we beat return envoy Seo Jong-hyeon by a hair.
Seo Jong-hyeon was no slouch—kicking Ryuukyuu envoys into submission—but Nakchang-gun outpaced him.
To spare Seo Jong-hyeon negligence charges, Nakchang-gun and I let him skim some Qing profits and enter the capital first.
Not slacking—I was instantly appointed Seonae Military Officer (paired with the envoy) and entered with them.
Didn't even see Eoji carrying fainted Jangbok home. I swapped in the spare cannon-phone from Se-hwa and hurried off.
Yi Geum was in an exceptionally good mood for the first time in ages.
The Queen Dowager would soon follow her son's will to the afterlife, the Queen her husband's—setting a perfect example of the Three Bonds.
Once the Crown Prince followed his father's, the Three Bonds would be complete. He wasn't a daughter, but such trifles didn't matter.
With the Queen Dowager—who openly favored the Crown Prince—and the Queen—who excused kindness to him as obeying her mother-in-law—gone, he could move the troops right away.
"The Queen is vomiting blood and suffering uterine hemorrhage; her end is near."
Pharmacy Director Jo Jae-ho reported, and Yi Geum displayed kingly compassion for his ailing Queen.
"Her pulse is normal, but her mind is clouded? Then Clear Mind Pills are foolish. Ginseng best restores yang qi—triple the dose."
Yi Geum wielded medical knowledge Kim Unhaeng lacked, highlighting the gulf between king and subject.
All the veteran ministers couldn't help recalling King's Game: Classic with the crab sauce. Same prescription as back then.
And the outcome was identical.
Joseon's longest-reigning Queen, Queen Jeongsung Seo—who endured endless slights over 33 years—passed on the 15th day of the 2nd month that year.
The Crown Prince rushed in, wailing in grief.
Not just politics—Queen Seo had been more motherly to him than his birth mother, Lady Yeongbin Yi (who'd urged his death).
Yi Geum, arriving on the Queen's death, scolded the Crown Prince's disheveled attire.
"Do you know what position you're in? Why are your trouser hems like that at your aunt's funeral? Why is your jacket so sloppy? You don't even weep—you must've been drinking!"
Even Crown Princess Hong—known for enduring injustice and outliving others—was stunned.
The Crown Prince had simply cried himself dry.
Unlike with Kim Unhaeng, he didn't retort. The Crown Princess could only swallow her anger.
Yi Geum wasn't one to miss timing.
He decided to deliver one final shock to the bedridden Queen Dowager and send her off too.
"Ilsungwi Jeongchi-dal has died today. Princess Hwanwan will grieve deeply; we can't stand by. Prepare for the procession to his home."
The ministers couldn't stand by. The Queen's death trumped some son-in-law's funeral.
Even if the King hated the Crown Prince, doting on his full sister Princess Hwanwan didn't justify this.
It had other implications too: Queen Seo was from the Small Faction originally, but a Noron convert during King's Game: Classic.
Her role in Yeongjo's victory was undeniable; Noron revered her.
Jeongchi-dal was Small Faction—and Crown Prince faction at that.
No reason for the King to mourn him, so his motives were obvious.
Forbidding factionalism while stirring it up.
But these ministers—unsteadily maintaining Chunsik's Tangpyeong—were different from history.
They united as yangban first, beyond Noron-Soron.
Chief State Councillor Park Mun-su—overhyping Kim Chunsik's red ginseng effects—rose and petitioned.
Yi Geum met Park Mun-su but dismissed him without granting audience. Smart to dodge unwinnable fights.
But one fallen Park Mun-su was replaced by ten from the Royal Secretariat and Censorate.
Even the Secretariat opposing the King's will showed the crisis's depth.
Yi Geum fired and exiled them all, but the yangban—motto "die prostrating"—plugged ears, shouted together, and held firm. Thirty years' experience taught them such vague punishments went nowhere.
But Yi Geum wasn't that isolated.
Amid tumbling ministers, one strode out boldly: Hong In-han, slyly reinstated to Hongmungwan while Kim Unhaeng was in Beijing. (Unbeknownst to him, famed as Russian Orthodox persecution victim.)
The perfect scholar for the King to favor.
"Censor duties are vital, but defying Your Majesty's grief is unbecoming. Though humble, I'll rush to my uncle (Hong Bonghan) and ready the Training Command troops for the procession."
Yi Geum, delighted, appointed him Gyododonchesa (bridge/traffic overseer for state funerals) on the spot.
Normally held by Hanyang Governor; no temporary post for Hong In-han's caliber.
Yet no minister spoke up.
They grasped the implication in his words and the King's approval:
'If needed, Training Command will sweep away these obstructors.'
Couldn't kill, but beat and jail? Possible. Blocking the King before leaving palace vs. after with troops—worlds apart.
With permission, Hong In-han dashed off.
And right then, Kim Unhaeng was already meeting Hong Bonghan ahead of the King.
As Kim Unhaeng knew, Hong Bonghan had no plans to raise troops first and storm Changdeok Palace.
His scheme: control the army, protect the Crown Prince, wait for the King's death, then claim regent power via merit.
But that required not getting sacked as Training Command head.
Kim Unhaeng persuaded him on that point.
"They're blocking now, but His Majesty will decide to go. Delay, and he'll surely dismiss you. It's not one post at stake, but your grand future plans? Bend like reeds in the wind now."
Kim Unhaeng had heard of the Queen and Ilsungwi's simultaneous deaths from Pyo Cheol-ju, who'd greeted him outside the city.
Now one with Kim Unhaeng, Hong Bonghan agreed fully. Instead, he asked,
"But are you alright? Harsh trials, jumping into fire, then the trip—yet you look healthier."
Caught off-guard, Kim Unhaeng excused hastily.
"Family longevity secrets... Anyway, not important. Oh, guest arriving? To avoid rumors of delaying entry, sorry, I must go first."
"Right. I'll heed your words."
The guest, of course: Hong In-han.
His message matched Kim Unhaeng's unpleasant expectations.
Was the King senile, hellbent on wrecking national order?
"So prepare the procession immediately?"
"Yes. Didn't former Training Head Kim Seong-eung get reamed for slacking at the last one? No gaps this time."
Hong Bonghan loathed his half-brother's power-tripping. But heeding Kim Unhaeng's advice, he prepped just in time.
Yi Geum was thrilled.
Suspicious lately, but Training Command was loyal. Blood was reliable, save his son.
Speaking of sons, another came to mind.
"The legation's back. Though my grief is profound, state affairs can't halt. Have the Three Censor Offices attend the procession and report. I want details on the Qing (mother country); Seonae Military Officer and interpreters too."
He expected dragging the un-killable Kim Unhaeng around would worsen things. Qianlong's suspicions weren't baseless, after all.
Kim Unhaeng soon reached Princess Hwanwan's residence.
Seeing his sickly pallor, Yi Geum smugly took the report.
Any slip-up or sloth? Light caning to hasten his end.
Until hearing 10,000 Qing troops had advanced into Manchuria.
Author's Note
1. The quote from Zhu Xi in the story comes from Zhu Xi Yulu. His theory of names was strict: even Goryeo were originally barbarians but aped Song rites (like honorary Aryans?), and Jin's Emperor Sejong—called a "minor Yao-Shun" then—was just one exceptional ruler mimicking civilized rule.
2. Song Hyeonjong shares much with Joseon Hyeonjong: ascending amid Jurchen abduction aftermath, wanting northern expeditions but compromising. Like our Hyeonjong, he had achievements—halving se (coin) debasement chief among them. Crucially, he renamed "se-gong" to "se-pye," more significant than the amount.
3. Post-Dzungar genocide in real history, leader Amursana actually fled to Russia for aid but was denied to avoid war with China, dying unfulfilled.
4. Queen Seo died February 1757, Queen Dowager Kim March. No direct evidence Yeongjo did anything, but per Secretariat Diaries, he did prescribe ginseng to the Queen (again). Excluding Yeongjo seeming un-factional at Jeongchi-dal's funeral visit and Queen Dowager not being ill then, other details match history. Yeongjo did scold the Crown Prince's attire—but when she was ill, not dead. Per Hanjungnok, he didn't rush over at death, so paths didn't cross.