Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Chapter 38
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: 19. A Certain Academy City in Gangnam (1)
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Proxy rule is often depicted in media with the crown prince seated up front and the king lurking behind him like some kind of overseer.
But that's just a visual shorthand to make power dynamics obvious at a glance. The proxy rule system, refined from King Sejong through to Seongjong, doesn't actually prescribe anything like that.
The whole point of proxy rule, to begin with?
It's because the king is in no condition to handle his duties.
If he could hover behind the crown prince like a tyrannical black company boss, he'd just do the work himself.
Of course, there are cases like Yeongjo, who ran proxy rule simply to watch how hard his ministers kowtowed compared to his ancestors at Samjeondo. But that's not the principle.
Above all, the direction someone sits is a major symbol of authority.
The king and crown prince can't both face south together. If you're dead set on a setup where the king and regent share the same space, dowager regency comes closer to the mark.
So the crown prince carries out his duties as the junior ruler right there in Changgyeong Palace's Simindang—his old study in the eastern palace.
But right now, the crown prince felt like his father was actually sitting behind him.
Father King Yi Geum prowled around his nape like a ghost. As a living spirit, its nagging was oppressively intense.
Do this? Bitch fit. Do that? Bitch fit. Do nothing? Bitch fit.
And lately, ministers had petitioned over the procession and envoy reception, which had him thoroughly pissed off.
Grand Secretary Song Jinggye had warned that the procession was too lavish, and soldiers beating civilians had thrown heaven out of harmony, summoning thunder.
It was like mocking a real estate guru by asking if they'd gotten scammed on their jeonse deposit. This flew straight in the face of Yi Geum's lifelong mantra: love the people, live frugally.
And when dropping that kind of bombshell remonstrance, etiquette demanded kowtowing and begging to be executed. Song hadn't even bothered.
The annals make it clear: Yeongjo was especially offended by Song's positioning.
"(Song Jinggye's offense) merits slamming his head to the ground at the Geom-o guard post, yet he offers excuses to the bitter end—arrogant and irreverent."
The grand secretary got the axe, and even Left Prime Minister Kim Yakro, who'd tried to rein him in, got sacked. Everyone bowed in awe to the scientific monarch's bold employment flexibility policy, firing the de facto head of the Three Ministers like a lowly servant.
"That's why I can't even feel the New Year's spirit anymore. Ever since, His Majesty won't even grant audiences to the senior ministers."
The crown prince vented to me.
I ignored him.
"How gracious. In times like these, the only path is unwavering loyalty and filial piety. And today's lecture is on the Lesser Learning, so we can delve into the true meaning of filial piety..."
The crown prince ignored my ignoring him.
"Hmph. If that's the case, why summon only you and leave the perfectly healthy Si-gangwon officials be? Lips are sealed—cut it out and get lost."
No communication whatsoever.
In situations like this, the strong one wins.
I had no choice but to head out for archery again.
Same as my dog-beating stick days—officials be damned.
What excuse do I give if Yeongjo grills me later?
The crown prince holds an exalted position.
How exalted? Even his father can't punish him arbitrarily.
But Yeongjo's the type who swaps out the person if direct punishment's tricky.
It's not about lessons or discipline—it's about venting his mood. Like beating Itaekjung as a stand-in for the envoy he couldn't touch.
So who would Yeongjo punish?
Me. Like thrashing the family tutor when the noble kids screw up.
Besides, I don't expect the Crown Prince Sado Seja to have any loyalty or ability to shield me.
Whatever he's scheming, the second he faces Yeongjo, his mind goes blank. Then spinal reflex kicks in, and he'll toss me under the bus.
'Deputy Clerk Kim Unhaeng egged me on.'
Brain circuits warped by abuse and violence don't register conscience or shame. This has nothing to do with the crown prince's will or morals.
For now, I kept a sharp eye on the underlings hovering close by.
Lips sealed?
With a 16-year-old's grip like lab-cultured mold samples, sure that'd hold tight.
I'd bet Yeongjo's spies here outnumber my fingers. At minimum, I had to weed them out somehow.
But stuck in this second-round predicament, I had no clever way to spot them.
If Sin Sukju were alive, maybe I could've rolled some rice balls his way. But the utterly un-MZ vibe of the Three Offices, plus all my recent boozing, meant no revival in sight for those bean sprouts.
Then a woman who looked like a servant came scurrying up to the crown prince's attendants and relayed a message.
Couldn't catch the words, but I knew who she was.
Bokrye, the crown princess's lady-in-waiting—the one the crown prince had gossiped about to me.
Word was, the crown princess had put her in charge of waking her at dawn. Being late for morning greetings spelled disaster.
Basically, an alarm app.
With customizable ringtones, and if that failed, she'd barge in and shake her awake herself (perks of being a servant). Full vibration mode. Noble status really does upgrade even the apps.
But here was her closest confidante, showing up out of nowhere at the eastern palace. She must've known about the archery too.
Only one thing that could mean.
'Crown princess is probably trying to rein in the eastern palace.'
Escape route?
Kim Unhaeng's hunch was spot on.
Hyeonbin Hong, fretting over the widening rift between her father-in-law and husband, tried to halt the crown prince's wayward behavior.
And her chosen method was straight out of the classics.
The excuse that her barely 100-day-old firstborn, Yi Jeong—the grand crown prince— wasn't feeling well.
But Crown Prince Sado Seja frowned at his wife's message via Bokrye.
"There's a wet nurse and eunuchs there—what am I supposed to do about it now?"
Sado Seja hadn't always been such a cold father.
The crown prince had high hopes when Yi Jeong was born.
Yeongjo had shown zero interest in his son's child. Per the Record of Hanjung, he hadn't even asked, "Was it a boy?" He'd probably miss it if it hatched an egg.
But then he spotted something in Yi Jeong's features reminiscent of his late beloved daughter, Princess Hwapyeong, and everything changed.
Yeongjo was overjoyed, declaring Yi Jeong her reincarnation, and冊封ed him grand crown prince right after his 100-day milestone.
Not weird for the crown prince to hope piggybacking that affection might improve his own lot.
But Yeongjo was ever the meticulous, precise king.
He doted on Yi Jeong—and only Yi Jeong. The crown prince? Still despised.
Given Joseon's notion of fathers and sons as a shared fate, even a Hellfire blade missile couldn't discriminate more finely than picking off seat-by-seat.
So the crown prince naturally drifted away from his son.
This time, he made no secret of his annoyance.
That's when one man stepped up.
Hongmungwan Deputy Clerk Kim Unhaeng.
I only recently learned Sado Seja's son wasn't Jeongjo.
The name didn't match. Might not know Seongjong, but Jeongjo? Drama came out.
So Jeongjo had an older brother who died in infancy.
If that baby's sick, his thread might be nearly snapped.
Yeongjo冊封ed Yi Jeong grand crown prince after 100 days. Proof of exceptional favor.
Now imagine a report leaks: crown prince won't even check on his ailing son.
History says the kid dies soon anyway, but Yeongjo—already loathing the crown prince—would hate him more. Less about loving the grandson, more about the slap to his prestige.
I hinted as much to the crown prince.
"Ascending the hall after sacrifice to offer the cup falls to the legitimate eldest son alone [其登餕獻受爵 則以上嗣, Book of Rites]. The grand crown prince's station is so exalted that His Majesty冊封ed him early—cherishing him is showing filial piety."
He got it, but Sado Seja just scowled, bow in hand.
That bow especially irked him.
As I recall, he'd get indicted for slaughtering over a hundred.
'Yi Hwon, the Hundred-Man Slayer'—what, samurai manga protagonist?
So I intervened.
The crown prince could off a Bokrye-level servant on a whim. Not me.
My status isn't low, and I'm 'the king's man.' Smash your wife's phone all you want—daddy's phone? You're dead.
I didn't expect him to welcome my words.
But crucially, the crown princess's servant here—and Yeongjo's spies elsewhere—would relay my counsel straight to Yeongjo.
Somehow, just let me skate by.
Yet the crown prince hadn't sunk to the depravity of the late-stage Sado Seja I knew.
He didn't kill or flog me—or even Bokrye.
Even if the hundred-man slaughter charge held, a prince doesn't end up rice-chested for 'that.' He got executed for regicide.
But he held back.
Transcendent self-restraint, magnanimity. From a modern POV, mind-blowing—but that's the reality now.
The crown prince lowered his bow meekly and ordered the yard tidied.
"The deputy clerk's counsel is right. I nearly botched it. I should visit the consort's palace."
This guy touched me. You're human after all.
Someone's kid too... nah, Yeongjo's spawn makes it iffy.
I tried to slip away there, wrap up duties, and head home.
Son's sick, man. Study what?
But the crown prince dragged me along to the consort's palace. Right—wanna play it off like we came from studying?
Wasn't breaching etiquette big-time by not going in to see the crown princess's face, but it was awkward.
Cold as hell too—stuck waiting outside till business wrapped? Annoying.
Couldn't stomp my feet or tuck hands in armpits for scholar cred. Had to grit it out.
I'm making a padding jacket. If only I'd been a real engineer, I'd start today.
Duck down or something? Spotted ducks in Gyeonghui Palace pond nearby.
Then a wet nurse stepped out briefly—errand, maybe?—and brushed past me.
Not modern times—this breaks protocol. I'm posted etiquette-proper for underlings; she should've detoured wide.
Ah, not treating her like a slave. Wet nurses rank high.
Not birth mom, but one of the eight mothers meriting mourning [eight mothers]. Worlds apart from servants. Highborns with eight moms? Lucky them.
She was harried enough to ignore status and protocol, brushing right by—so I caught her scent.
No, not like that... booze and meat. She'd held her breath inside, probably.
That's when I knew the whispers were true.
'Out of her mind? Nursing a baby?'
Even Joseon knew empirically: nursing mom's diet matters. And this is the royal house. Stark raving mad.
No way that nurse doted on the grand crown prince. Rumors swirled of her roughing him up.
Now I get why he died.
But what could I do? No medical creds. Literary exam grad here.
Bully a change of consort palace nurse sans evidence, like some shaman knife dance? As a low-rank unrelated clerk?
Peak creative suicide. Only Grand Prince's uncle Hong Bonghan could pull that off.
'Janggak talisman' item? Too risky.
Sorry, but non-Jeongjo grand crown prince holds zero political value for me.
Even overriding cold math with humanity? No path to pull it off.
Tell 'em to feed him ash-burned talisman water? I'd go up in flames like the damn thing. Yeongjo's lost a son to curses before.
In the end, I just trailed the crown prince back.
Afraid he'd demand archery redux, I whispered:
"Since you've halted archery, on return, at least pretend to read with me. Fills out the logs without skimping—folks won't doubt your pure intent."
"Obviously. I know that much."
Sounded like a sulky kid. Kinda funny.
Hong Bonghan of the Hojo Ministry's cham pan caused no real friction after Kim Unhaeng hit Seoul.
VIP pet project Gyunnyeokcheong ate up time, but more than that, clashing with Kim face-to-face just devalued Hong.
Same token, it boosted Kim's stock.
Hong realized he'd basically given Kim a free ride earlier—decided hands off. If striking, wait till the king soured on him.
But Kim Unhaeng's name popped up somewhere Hong never expected.
Reading his daughter's letter, Hong twitched his beard.
"That punk held back the crown prince."
Hong'd been watching the crown prince's brewing black dragon rage.
His power flowed from the crown prince—if he fell, Hong tumbled too. Natural caution.
Couldn't just scold like other sons-in-law, so he'd pondered options. Somehow, this Kim whippersnapper reined him in.
'Lectured ancient texts, convinced him?'
Naive ears might praise a Three Offices official fulfilling Si-gangwon duty. Hong wasn't that dumb.
Doesn't add up.
Not that the crown prince lacked morals or learning—people aren't swayed like objects.
No specific quote in the letter, but Hong figured Kim slipped in political subtext.
And if he clocked that, the kid's ambitions ran big.
Just how capable? TBD.
'No need to tussle with a punk, but worth noting.'
Worth watching. Hong opted to first ease Kim's fear and wariness of him (Kim would've laughed).
In the crown princess's name, praising his routine aid to the crown prince, a generous haul of silk was bestowed on Kim Unhaeng.
Big gesture, considering the Hongs' pre-rise poverty.
Everyone involved—even the crown prince—knew it was thanks for cleaning up his folly.
But griping to Kim? Tough.
Yeongjo'd unusually praised the crown prince's conduct (spies, as Kim predicted).
"To recognize error and correct it without hesitation [過則勿憚改, Analects] is the way of the gentleman. He prioritized family, visited the grand crown prince, skipped playtime after, read books—proof the crown prince's nature hasn't warped yet."
Crown prince terrified.
Ministers pounced, chorusing praise to the king.
They'd been jittery from his baffling son-hate. Overpraise risked flip-out backlash, so moderate.
But king praising Kim too? Royal face-loser. Yeongjo skipped it. Can't sulk Hong out.
Kim hadn't banked on more.
Generous silk? Plenty.
Disliked being Si-gangwon fixture, unable to log Yeongjo's nose-picking. But upsides here.
Way more free time than brutal shift-work knight duty.
Seizing the gaps, Kim resolved to launch his real 'Seoul venture'—long on hold.
Unhaeng faction? Not it. Subcontract to I Jaeun.
Kim's hands-on gigs? Spreading literature and morals only.
Scholar life.
Hong Daeyong slacking study? Danger zone. Time to collar him for the exam.
Kim pooled crown princess silk and personal funds for quiet real estate.
Snagged some Han River plots outside the capital. South bank—not north, so cheapish.
Trend then: elites snapping land, building pavilions. 21st-century Han River-view apt hype traces here.
But top exam grad Kim Unhaeng played different.
No pavilion.
To左右 probing why: "The aura of success dwells in Gangnam." Cryptic words dropped, Kim opened a modest academy in the name of his unemployed dad, Kim Yonggyeom.
Grand mission: nurture the 'Great Sage of Jiangnan.'
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