Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: 14. The Literary Official's Method (1)
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Of course, I also paid my respects to Hong Eok, who was preparing for the civil service exams in Seoul as the father of Hong Se-hwa, and to Hong Ryeok, the father of Hong Daeyong, who worked at the Royal Hospital.
The two of them were overjoyed, already treating me like a son-in-law. Well, these two were probably the ones who'd spread the rumors in Seoul at Hong Daeyong's behest (likely).
Once that was done, Hong Daeyong hurriedly packed his bags, saying he had to deliver the news to his little sister right away.
I wondered if he might get bitten by a tiger on the way and turn this into a non-issue, but I quickly shook off such wicked thoughts.
The king already knew, and stirring things up now would only complicate matters further.
Best to let it go. The family wasn't bad at all. And she was pretty, too.
As a chaste scholar, I had little interest in beauty, but still, she was better than some hag.
So I even permitted Hong Daeyong's request to draw a portrait this time as proof.
Do whatever. Would the brother-in-law and sister-in-law take a cute selfie together?
I had no interest in the painting. I shoved it into Hong Daeyong's hands and sent him off with a "take it and go already."
I still had a few more people to greet, so I decided to head back in a few days. It was vacation, after all, and I didn't feel like rushing back to the office early.
And thanks to that, I got my hands on some top-secret intel.
After Hong Daeyong left, another social butterfly showed up and scratched at my nerves.
Park Jiwon, whom I hadn't seen in a while, had shot up like all kids do in a year. Looks like you had a good life.
Park Jiwon cheerfully performed his New Year's bow. Then he burst into laughter.
"So this is what they mean by Pa Cheonhwang—world-breaking audacity without precedent. Beating a rogue clerk with a stick for discipline, topping the civil service exams, reforming the notoriously crooked clerks of Mokcheon—a place infamous across the nation—and to top it all off. I never dreamed you'd arrange your own marriage, brother. But there's nothing to be done about my deep regret. Truth be told, our family..."
I'll give you New Year's money, so go home.
Ah, New Year's money isn't really a thing yet, is it? Just eat some rice cakes here and leave.
Come to think of it, this guy was the first one to show up suggesting marriage back then.
What do you mean 'deep regret'? Both your sisters are married. You were just match-making and clearing your throat awkwardly. I've seen it all when I visited.
Anyway, now that it was truly the new year, I needed to pay formal New Year's respects to Park Pilgyun in my own name (my first visit had been to deliver Hong Gyehee's gifts). In this Joseon where the whole world seemed to pick on me, he was the only one who'd shown me pure goodwill.
Park Pilgyun seemed equally thrilled by my 'pure goodwill.'
Well, he wouldn't dare not be.
That ginseng was something I'd ordered express delivery via my dedicated courier, Jangbok, right after arriving in Seoul—straight from Gaeseong. Precious stuff.
Worth every bit.
Who was it that let me dodge the crown prince in time and take down Yi Il-je in Chungcheong? All thanks to this man blabbing top court secrets to his grandson.
Park Pilgyun, whom I'd dubbed 'Loose-Lip Park,' provided me with vivid intel once again today.
"Your post was definitely Mokcheon, right? Next to Jiksan."
"Yes."
"It may be presumptuous to mention, but did you hear that last year, His Majesty's itch persisted, so they hauled On-yang hot spring water all the way to Seoul for steam baths?"
"Yes, I've heard."
Because to get to On-yang, they had to pass through our area—specifically Jiksan County. Some errand runners came and went back then.
If it were me, I'd go as far as Yangjae Station, boil some random water, and pass it off as hot spring water. So diligent.
In modern times, hot springs are as enviable as gold mines.
With good marketing, they might rake in more than gold. 'The hot springs favored by the king!' Perfect, right?
Sigh. Jiksan has gold, On-yang has hot springs, and Mokcheon only has its upright magistrate, Kim Unhaeng.
But this was Joseon, so while gold might tempt me, hot springs? Not a penny's worth.
Didn't Yi Il-je say it? In the 21st century, any local government welcomes group tourists, but in this era, no thanks.
Groups mean big numbers. Big numbers mean power. Power means they don't pay.
And the worst group tourists of all? Naturally, the most powerful ones.
"I hear even the steam baths didn't cure it, so to regulate his vital energy, His Majesty plans to head to On-yang soon. Jiksan and the surrounding counties will need to coordinate, so best to know in advance."
I wanna resign.
The king did say he'd summon me to the Three Offices soon, right?
Songdeokbi can wait. It's not like I'm doing this magistrate gig forever.
This isn't a joke— I'd rather face an enemy army and fight a war than host the royal procession.
At least with enemies, you can fight back.
The king traveling somewhere? Words fail beyond 'total devastation.'
Practically a strategic weapon. Worse because you can't guard against it.
Does the king come alone for a bath? No, the whole royal family tags along. Given King Yeongjo's personality—known for chewing out and discarding the nation's queen like dog chow—he probably won't bring the queen, but it's still massive.
Of course, high officials and the entire bureaucracy follow like candy on a string. Everyone and their dog wants a hot spring dip on this excuse.
Are royal family and officials' entourages small? At least ten servants per person. And that's excluding the escort troops mandatory for the procession.
Why all at once instead of staggered? Joseon is poor, so such trips are rare—they require serious financial resolve.
Bottom line: it's like mobilizing numbers for full-scale war.
The aftermath is war-like too. That horde won't leave a single chicken or blade of grass behind.
Joseon kings stay out of the palace over a month for three reasons.
First, mobilizing like Seonjo. Second, defending like Injo.
Third, hot springs.
Comparing royal tours to war is no exaggeration.
So doesn't the king compensate villages with rice for the nuisance?
That's what the annals say.
But the king doesn't personally scoop and hand it out. It trickles down, getting siphoned by every Tom, Dick, and Harry, leaving zilch for the actual victims.
Even Sejong, who tried minimizing nuisance, couldn't avoid it.
Sejong was a progressive king always chasing the new.
New territory? Conquer it. New barbarians? Harvest heads.
His temple name screams warlord ('Se' means conqueror), so folks overlook it, but he invented Hangul too.
Hot springs were the same. Rumor of a new one? He dispatched officials pronto.
Villagers united in denial.
'No hot springs here. Just a well we dug. Total rumor. Heh, tsk, don't poke around. Tigers everywhere. Seriously none—trust us, try the next village.'
Joseon folk lies are often sloppy and desperate.
With scant evidence-gathering, they bluffed freely. Sometimes got caught hiding springs.
No mercy from the dread lord. Sejong imposed collective village punishment: administrative downgrading.
That's for parricide or rebels emerging.
Get how much Sejong loved hot springs now?
Kings' hot spring obsession peaked under hygiene king Hyeonjong.
He seemed to spend his reign bathing.
Records don't align exactly, but undisputed most visits among Joseon kings. Wasn't there a famine then?
One trip: up to 1,000 buckets poured. Why tally every drop, you pervs? Anyway, Great Clean King who couldn't live without baths.
So bathe regularly, folks. That's why you get skin issues.
Is this my moment to shine?
Honestly, my future-man feats so far were just spreading modern ethics.
To stop Yeongjo's Chungcheong invasion and devastation, cure his itch. Wouldn't want a future-man stingy with soap.
But soap... how do you make it?
Beats me. Need an engineer.
Don't have one.
I'm not from the generation doing ancient doc decodings, growing impatiens in milk cartons, making soap from waste oil in elementary school projects.
Why would I make soap? Buy it at the mart. Back then, I probably grabbed a 'vacation homework' kit from the stationery store—old-school munbanggu.
All I know: oil and some carbonate thing.
Ah, that polypropylene last time? Picked it up working construction gigs. Told you—burlap sacks.
Plus, for skin disease level, plain soap won't cut it; needs functional stuff.
Give up.
Guns, steam engines, soap—who cares? Survive first.
I'll keep enlightening Joseon souls mentally.
This is Joseon.
An isekai where even literary officials needn't apologize.
I set about finding a literary official's solution.
'Loose-Lip Park' Park Pilgyun was a rising star.
Rumor had it he'd transfer to Hojo Champan next month. Same rank on paper, but Hojo outranked Yejo—promotion.
So I buttered him up diligently.
While at it, I built a pipeline for intel on the king's exact On-yang departure date and route.
Easier from Seoul, but the king ordered me to Mokcheon for marriage.
Local customs vary, but in Joseon, groom's family hosting weddings wasn't odd. Remnant of old mucin system from schoolbooks—irrelevant.
No more dawdling: wrap Seoul business fast, whirlwind back to Mokcheon.
King's tourist visit? Not despair time yet.
Destination is On-yang, not us or Jiksan.
Huge damage, sure, but a day or two? Manageable.
Overcome this crisis, one step closer to Songdeokbi.
Kim Unhaeng, who repelled the king's invasion. Gotta build that one.
Normally not allowed, but wedding exception: take family to post. Parents would host ceremony, greet in-laws, return to Seoul.
Yeongjo, you sly dog—this considerate gesture reeks of not betraying loyalists while not alienating Noron either. Classic political thief vibes.
While Jangbok and slaves bustled (what, no noble packing bags himself?), I sent urgent dispatch to Chungcheong Governor Hong Gyehee: mission accomplished report.
This was enemy invasion-level crisis; duty to report to governor pronto.
So pony express.
That ultra-fast lord gets fed up with Joseon's snail-mail he set up 5G-style during war. Spot on.
Ah, why? I know it doesn't fly.
But hard-luck couriers need side gigs. Pay 'em, they slip it into foreign courier. I'm decent— not oppressing with power for love letters.
Speed matters so Hong Gyehee can hustle Seoul bigwigs ASAP.
Me? As long as Mokcheon spared, light burden. But province head Hong Gyehee? King's path through Chungcheong feels like sword through gut.
As expected, Hong Gyehee lived up to border-guard prestige with swift action.
By my actual Chungcheong arrival and meeting, countermeasures were done.
Court heavyweights sang: 'Chungcheong's tiger-infested' 'peasants too nuisance-prone' 'just fetch water like last time'—blocking the hot spring jaunt. Oh ho, all the loyal martyrs here.
Of course, a king who'd back down isn't Yeongjo.
He'd go eventually. Just delay.
Need time for 'work.'
Prep for king? Similar, but scheming—looks profitable.
Wedding soon; family man duties huge. Double stipend morally fair? Public servants get family allowance.
King's words suggest central summon soon. Score big last time, grab Songdeokbi, bolt.
Ah, first: wedding, send parents back to Seoul. Dad lingering risks baseless slanders from petty fools.
Se-hwa hung Kim Unhaeng's portrait, brought by Hong Daeyong, on her wall.
She turned to her cousin.
"Everything went according to plan. I always pitied you for skipping studies to pluck the geomungo, brother, but this time, I'm truly impressed."
"Even if you're soon to be married off, is that venom because you think you won't see me again?"
"Coming from the brother who schemed behind my back to marry me off secretly, you can take it."
He had plenty to retort, but Hong Daeyong just grimaced and left.
With Se-hwa engaged, a cousin lingering too long in her room looked improper. Hong Daeyong knew etiquette.
Closest kin like him kept distance; no one else dared enter. Only her father, Hong Eok—who'd returned with Hong Daeyong—could casually.
So Se-hwa sat freely, gazing at the portrait without worry.
Painting's mimicry relies on cultural consensus.
Purely form-wise, cartoon characters unlike real humans evoke beauty judgments and emotions via 'draw this way means real like that' aesthetic agreement.
Even in that Joseon-style portrait—where Kim Unhaeng might yell, 'Me? Drag this cheeky painter and beat him!'—same deal.
To Se-hwa, it was a spot-on likeness.
Having met him, she felt the same impression viewing it.
Like Kim Unhaeng hoped marriage aided his goals, so did Hong Se-hwa.
Kim Unhaeng aimed highest.
His exam debate with Yi Jae-un, his record screamed it. His mad dash for glory was no empty talk.
He meant it.
Pretending humble purity while able to slack like Yi Jae-un's ilk.
That's what appealed.
Burn life bright, don't let it rot.
Normally, she'd live deaf-mute like other women, dying without using a fraction of her talent.
But cousin gave rare chance.
She seized it.
This indomitable soul forging his path was worthy mate.
Good birds choose perches. [Liang qin ze mu, Spring and Autumn Annals.]
As Confucius said—if ministers pick lords, women pick husbands.
Se-hwa reached for the wall portrait.
I know who you are.
And want to know more.
Her fingertips slowly touched Kim Unhaeng's lips.
"I want to see you again soon. This time, much closer."