Chapter 200
Chapter 200
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 200
Chapter Title: Ascension Chart Game
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Even in reality, my actions had been inconsistent both in the parts Park Mun-su knew about and the parts he didn't.
I could just brush it off as adapting to the status window's capricious whims.
But that felt like the lazy excuse of fools who only accept explanations they can wrap their heads around.
Instead of parroting them, I dove headfirst into the intellectual battlefield. If agonizing was combat, I was drenched in blood in seconds.
If my sole goal was becoming Chief State Councillor and returning to the modern era, blindly following the status window's nudges—and kowtowing to King Yeongjo—would clearly be the easiest, surest path.
Sado Seja? He'd end up in the doghouse. So what? I'd half-heartedly try to stop it, get exiled, then butter up Go Aisan with "Your dad's a badass," and Chief State Councillor was mine.
My armor shattered, shield pierced. My temple throbbed from the blow.
But in that moment, I stepped forward. Having spotted the "flaw" called "consistency," I didn't miss my chance—I plunged the blade deep.
Those bastards really piss me off.
The Ascension Chart crew, who must've planned to film "Kim Unhaeng's Tears" for profit, had tried to scam a pathetic civil service exam prepper and puppet his life like a reality show.
King Yeongjo was no different—he saw everyone as NPCs in his game. He wasn't singling out his subjects for disdain. His own son wasn't even an NPC; more like a monster.
Every action of mine was to flip them the bird. Even if it ended in a string of losses.
I was deeply grateful to Yeongseong-gun for that bone-deep rage. Thanks to him, I learned that sheer annoyance was my life's driving force. Ah! How healthy and fulfilling!
What about Sado Seja? Isn't he using me too?
Well, why didn't that sting with him?
Because it was my choice? Or because he's paying the price we agreed on?
Neither explanation sat right. Because the motive itself wasn't all that logical to begin with.
The world can be explained by logic. But that's the science major's way—I'm a liberal arts guy.
If I had to pin it down, maybe it's because he's the friend who shares that "annoyance" with me the most?
The Buddha Shakyamuni once said:
"What I have comprehended is like this forest, but what I can express fits in the palm of my hand—like a handful of leaves."
Kim Unhaeng was in the opposite bind. To turn a few leaves into a forest, he launched into a heavy sermon.
"I sought to unfold the se-do—the righteous way of the world—for the Crown Prince... no, Your Majesty. He declared he would be a king who does not stray from the people. In him, I saw my own intent reflected."
"And what intent is that?"
"Even a learned man like Grand Prince Yeongseong must have played the Ascension Chart game in his youth."
Unlike that earlier nonsense about overflowing bowls, this metaphor might actually hold water.
So Park Mun-su readily admitted it.
"Indeed."
"What if someone ahead of you declares the court's hierarchy and the order of superior and inferior disrupted, then arbitrarily changes the inscribed spots or insists the omens must align with their desires?"
"Childish talk, but it would ruin the game."
"Precisely. I will reclaim my own dice. Just as one reads books to pass the exams or trains in martial arts to become a soldier—everything I've done has been to move my piece by my own will."
Like everyone Kim Unhaeng had eliminated, defeat in the game's competition was inevitable. Even if it was him.
But he wouldn't play along with petty games where the manager exerts meta control while also profiting as a player.
That's why he'd sided with Yi Hwon, who acknowledged only the player's position—"not straying from the people."
Yet to Park Mun-su, Kim Unhaeng's declaration carried a slightly different meaning.
By modern standards, Park Mun-su was a staunch royalist (Kim Unhaeng was a detachable republican).
As a royalist, he should've bellowed: "How dare you demote the sovereign from game master to mere player!"
But Park Mun-su, the last leader of the Southern faction, couldn't.
At some point, no one cared about dice or piece strategies anymore. Instead, as Kim Unhaeng put it, they started eyeing the people across the board.
"If I break that guy's wrist, he can't roll—I'll win, right?"
And kings started barging in: "I'll break his wrist for you, just give me extra flats."
The "factional strife of Joseon" wasn't solely the fault of kings or ministers.
Its pinnacle: Yi Geum, who seized the throne with Noron help.
But victorious Yi Geum didn't want Noron winning every round forever.
Otherwise, no one would pay the king for flats, and he couldn't afford that grand, beautiful ohamma called royal authority.
So he dragged in Southerners and Westerners, forcing them to the board. Then he rolled the dice for them—broken arms, severed fingers and all.
This was tangpyeong policy. Of course, bad rolls were the owner's fault.
Through this farce, the king lowered his own stature. No longer could Joseon's kings claim to be game masters.
And that's when Kim Unhaeng appeared.
Kim Unhaeng had revived the Southern faction—even the Westerners—while clipping Noron wings like the Ro clan. Intentional or not.
Unlike under the upper king, this wasn't the sovereign's doing. Kim Unhaeng had involved them in enthroning a new king, letting them rise on their own. That's what mattered.
Whether it was good or not—who knew? Maybe Kim Unhaeng had reignited a bloodbath that could've ended in Noron victory.
But the Ascension Chart words would roll again. That much was certain.
Not the Enlightenment "progress." Joseon wasn't "stagnant from factionalism."
Wise Park Mun-su wouldn't apply such concepts here even if he knew them. This had nothing to do with that.
Didn't Kim Unhaeng say it? No need for someone slicing the world to their ideal.
The world isn't a rice paddy for some self-proclaimed transcendent to tend.
A refined field aimed at one bountiful harvest looks fine to people. But what of the bloodweed uprooted, the dug-up soil, the bugs and birds feeding in the cracks?
In the end, wouldn't a shifting true landscape outlast a fixed garden?
Park Mun-su felt an unbefitting urge to grin. So he did.
'This weedy bastard.'
With an unsettling smile, Park Mun-su stroked his beard.
"Ascension Chart game, eh? I see. Understood. A pity—I'd love to see more, but I can no longer cast the omens."
He couldn't have meant it that way, but I couldn't contain my fury. You've become Chief State Councillor? You've crossed the finish line?
"My game board is done. I'll bow out with the victory ceremony. You stay and enjoy yourself."
I nearly snapped: Who says you get to quit? The content would've been some nonsense about upright officials not abandoning court, but it boiled down to: the king won't let you resign.
Yet Park Mun-su submitted a resignation even King Sejong couldn't refuse.
The end of the Ascension Chart's victory rite. Victory and simultaneous exit.
By the time I stood, Park Mun-su had already logged off with dignity.
Park Mun-su's son Park Sungyu eyed me like I'd forge his father's last words to steal the family fortune. No idea how he raised his kids.
So I didn't even mention Park Mun-su returning the ginseng. Consider it a donation.
I looked up at the sky. Lowering my gaze, Hanyang's night streets came into view.
This was a sight not just anyone could see. Few in Joseon transcended the night curfew.
The streets were peacefully quiet. Quiet enough I wouldn't be disturbed.
Come to think of it, I'd confused ends and means too.
Chief State Councillor was just a milestone. My goal lay beyond.
I wouldn't mindlessly roll for Behind-the-doghouse Seja's dice game. Nor overturn the board like Yeongjo, defying the pips—that betrays the goal for the means.
Focus on the goal. Like Sado Seja plotting a northern expedition because Qianlong pissed him off, or us Joseon folk.
My goal—the status window's annoyance—is that "one wish" I earn as success bonus.
And I think I know what it'll be.
Anything but "send me back to the 21st century."
Not long after Yi Hwon tearfully granted funeral gifts to Park Sungyu for his father, the giants of an era without Kim Unhaeng began falling one by one.
First the Right Guest of the Outer Court Yi Ik, then Chief State Councillor Park Mun-su. Next was Won Gyeongha, retired as Deputy Chief of the Board of Personnel. His final plea to his gaming son Won Inson:
"If you don't quit gambling with thugs, you won't rise high or honor the family."
He couldn't very well tell his dying dad: "But if I hadn't hustled pros on Kim Chunsik's orders, I wouldn't be a senior official at my age." Won Inson answered hollowly.
"I'll keep it in mind."
It didn't stop there. Jeong Hwi-ryang, who rose to Left State Councillor for his role in the Seoul spring, and Seo Myeong-bin, Hanyang Governor who aided potato cultivation—both passed.
As if saying the nation's crisis had passed safely—or "figure it out yourselves now."
Some dusted hands and left; new players sat at the board.
Yi Hwon left the Chief State Councillor post vacant as a tribute to Park Mun-su.
Then appointed father-in-law Hong Bonghan as Left State Councillor and Seo Myeong-seon of Chundang's brother Seo Myeong-eung as Right State Councillor. Skipping ranks due to the vacancies.
His intent—bolstering with relatives like Hong Bonghan and "progenitor of Northern Learning Practical Studies" Seo Myeong-eung as right and left arms—was obvious.
This held implications for Kim Unhaeng's career too.
Anyone in the know saw it: Hong Bonghan's spot was Kim Unhaeng's future. Neither aced exams legitimately—they had capable daughters.
Yi Hwon announced he'd do the same for Kim Unhaeng, promoting Hong without breaching court rules.
History shows in-law downfall starts with excess favor. Yi Hwon vowed to protect family to the end.
Indeed, Kim Unhaeng—short time as senior official—gained no extraordinary post despite merits.
But Yi Hwon's promise held another meaning.
He formally granted Kim Unhaeng the future Hong Bonghan's seat.
After perfunctory marriage bans and selections, Kim Unhaeng's daughter Kim Sukyeong was chosen as Crown Prince Yi Jeong's consort.
Sehwa knew her husband's life raced unceasingly toward the peak. She shared that ambition, choosing to join him.
And the prejudice that high families swarm with ruthlessness, coldness, and misery from power lust or greed is baseless envy.
Even they have normal family lives. Kim Unhaeng hadn't raised kids as power tools. He'd raised them like himself—that was the issue.
So Sehwa asked, puzzled:
"Royal weddings differ from common customs; the Crown Prince won't come for the bride procession, so no need for wedding guests... but we can't just let it pass unmarked, right?"
Kim Unhaeng fell silent, gloomy. Sehwa thought she understood and comforted him.
"Parents sending fledglings off feel this way. I get it now. But with our house's prestige you built, skipping neighborhood goodwill might raise brows—or fingers."
She was right. The fierce Dragon of the East Sea Kim Unhaeng should feast Seoul's beggars for such fortune.
Confucian weddings aren't lavish. To feel parental grace and marital duty's weight, they set instruments but don't play—hang music, don't perform is Neo-Confucian.
But in this "late Joseon," early rigor softens like modern times.
Not quite 21st-century invite debates rivaling Rites Controversy, but wedding invites and formality mattered.
So Kim Unhaeng drooling over neighbors wasn't orthodox Neo-Confucianism.
He looked ready to cry.
"...No money."
"Pardon?"
"Scammed by vicious bastards. No cash. Relatives maybe, but that'll draw fingers like you said. Better nothing."
Sehwa was stunned.
Wives fret over husbands squandering outside—but her? Who in Joseon could scam Kim Unhaeng?
Not that he pierced all lies with wisdom. Scams rely on law; useless against one above it. Instant death, Han River fish food.
Indeed, Sehwa was right. In Joseon, no such person.
Kim Unhaeng's scammers were outside Joseon.
This summer, Kim Unhaeng got word from Tsushima Hot Springs Domain.
The eagerly awaited "white powder" arrived via Englishmen. Couldn't go Joseon or Ryukyu, so Japan—hating China—fit the plan.
No longer Admiral of the Five Provinces, Kim Unhaeng sent trusted Yi Jae-un instead.
Yi Jae-un repaid that trust.
He returned laden with snowflake-like "soda" powder. Traded for all Kim Unhaeng's precious metals.
"I stake my neck on this, milord. The finest saltpeter you've never seen!"
He even licked a finger dab— not ecstatic hallucination, but collapsing Snow White reality.
Saltpeter's decent, but versus same-value opium? Massive quantity.
Especially cheap Indian stuff. Yi Jae-un and Park Sang-sun could smuggle it, but not sell domestically before spoiling.
Unless using state army.
As Kim Unhaeng eyed last resort Noryangjin rice cake priestess Park, Yi Hwon seized the hoard. A military ace.
"What's this?"
"...Ryukyu folk bought Ryukyuan saltpeter as thanks for prior relief, sending to Yeonggilli folk. They sent it to me, ignorant of diplomacy."
Yi Hwon rejoiced.
"Virtue returns as blessing! As Chai Je-gong said, India abounds in saltpeter. Ah, your merit's greatest, of course. How many years' worth? No slacking, Star Bureau, Powder Division! More gunpowder now!"
A tyrant screaming for music might've been better.
Thus Kim Unhaeng lost nearly all liquid assets.
The king issued an edict praising Kim Unhaeng's "frugality" and "humility."
"Extravagance breeds irreverence, frugality rigidity—but better rigid than irreverent [Analects]. Kim Unhaeng embodies learning through action, not mere books."
Feasting boasts future Deputy Commander of the Royal Household. Impeachable. Kim dodged "wisely."
And his "frugality" from donating earnings—not lacking them—like a model incorruptible official?感動 사대부 heartstrings.
Commoners swarmed Jangdong Kim house with rice cakes, snacks, booze—no hesitation.
Era feasts were mostly food costs. Sehwa's contribution made it fitting for future in-laws.
Dalmun's troupe performed exquisitely; cheers rang between acts.
"Treating wealth like chaff, upholding loyalty selfless [extinguish self, serve public]—none matched Kim Chunsik!"
"A virtuous Crown Princess consort from such house? Natural!"
"Odd, no? Saving for bigger post later?"
"Spit out that rib first, you tactless fool!"
Warm neighbors despite no cash—that's it.
Tears welled in Kim Unhaeng's eyes. Sehwa chalked it to a father sending off his dear daughter.
Still, Yi Hwon beat some rebellion-prone kings: no gifts leading to lashes, no stripping fortunes/lives for poetry then revolt.
Yi Hwon shook the doghouse; dice were Kim Unhaeng's. Rewards too.
Kim Unhaeng's "golden key" was ready.
Author's Note
1. Briefly mentioned in Ch. 7 'Chundangdae Avengers' part: Hong Bonghan, Crown Princess father, essentially free-passed exams and got high post. Not deeply scholarly.
2. Excluding Park Mun-su, Yi Ik, Jeong Hwi-ryang, Won Gyeongha, Seo Myeong-bin deaths all around this time historically.
Not detailed in-story, but state aids major officials' funerals—massive, straining treasury, multiple cuts. Joseon poverty plus funerals as key rites.
3. Chai Je-gong's India saltpeter tale from Westerners in Ch. 175 'Knowledge is Power.' Real pure drug? Don't lick—collapse instant.