Chapter 46
Chapter 46
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: 22. A Toast for Us (3)
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This time, King Yeongjo, determined to truly root out alcohol from Joseon, implemented a remarkably meticulous policy.
There were structural issues behind why so many previous prohibition edicts in Joseon had gone largely unenforced.
The royal family and the court had far too many occasions that required alcohol.
Rituals were especially notorious for it.
The alcohol used in rituals wasn't brewed by ancestors themselves. Someone had to make it, and there was no way they would produce only the exact amount needed for offerings and stop there.
Thus, King Lee Geum came up with a surefire way to prevent anyone from using rituals as an excuse to brew liquor.
"It just occurred to me—wouldn't dan-sul, that mild sweet rice wine similar to sikhye, be even better than hyeonju, the black clear water from primitive rituals before alcohol existed? From now on, all alcohol offered anywhere in the palace or court, starting with the Bong sang si, must be dan-sul."
He also added the standard exception clause that always accompanied prohibition edicts.
"Takju for farmers working the fields or for military use shall not be punished. All other brewing will be harshly penalized, so spread this decree widely inside and out."
Since it had been about a month since the edict's announcement, Yeongjo's prohibition went into immediate effect the following month, in May.
But backlash arose here.
Banning alcohol even for rituals while allowing it for farmers and soldiers was effectively telling only the yangban class to abstain.
Even if they supported the intent of prohibition, scholars could not tolerate such discrimination. They rose up indignantly.
I, too, was displeased with Yeongjo's half-hearted prohibition.
Though my stance differed slightly from the officials rolling on the floor crying, "How can we not offer soju to the ancestors who loved it so much?"
This would set back the two ventures I'd planned around the edict by a huge margin.
The fines from cracking down on brazen illicit brewers early on, and the full-scale bootlegging business in the later stages when enforcement inevitably slackened.
The bigger the market, the greater the profits. But if takju was allowed, I couldn't target the commoners.
Farmers' work snacks are okay? Most of the population are farmers? Then why bother with prohibition?
If you're going to do it, do it right, Your Majesty.
But stepping forward to petition for stricter enforcement felt off.
Not every official supported prohibition just to line the Ministry of Justice's pockets.
Those who genuinely believed alcohol needed curbing saw this as a reasonable measure.
Moreover, higher officials often opposed it for reasons like public nuisance or simple desire to drink.
I didn't want to make enemies of them unnecessarily.
So, I opted for an indirect probe.
I arranged to meet Park Jeongwon, the censor from Ye mung wan I'd helped before, and his younger brother Park Seongwon. Both were colleagues at my workplace, not high officials—nothing suspicious.
To streamline things, from now on I'll call them the Yado brothers. They live in Hanseongbu's Yado precinct. The older one's lewd enough for it.
Not just them—many Park clansmen from Bannam live in Yado.
Park Jiwon lived there too, before moving his address to Gangnam. No wonder he got beaten so badly.
That meant I could also drop by to see Park Pilgyun, whom one might call the elder of Yado.
Pilgyun had no current post but had served alongside current Deputy Minister Han Sadok as left and right councilors in the Seungjeongwon. With no direct high-level connections there myself, this was my workaround.
The Seungjeongwon is the king's secretariat. All remonstrances and reports to the throne pass through it first.
I visited under the pretext of treating them to fine liquor before prohibition kicked in. Pilgyun was deeply moved by my sincerity.
With the excuse out of the way, I naturally brought up the prohibition policy.
As our chat touched on public sentiment toward it, chatty Park soon dropped key info.
"Come to think of it, my old friend Gyeongneung—that's Deputy Han—told me that Mun-gyeom, the literary officer and herald Lee Mingon, finally remonstrated about the edict. Says rituals at the royal tomb can't do without alcohol. He's Noron, but his love of strife and rejection of Tangpyeong as national policy make him such a headache."
Defying the king on a clear-cut issue like prohibition racks up political debt.
Most Noron ministers understood that, yet Lee Mingon barreled ahead cluelessly.
Pilgyun glanced at me sidelong.
What's your take?
I responded with pure loyalty to king and country.
"How could we let such a biased view reach the throne? Offices have strict divisions of duty—ignoring a herald's recklessness, when he's no censor, would expose the Seungjeongwon and Deputy Minister to His Highness's grave rebuke."
Having stated my first goal, I quickly added more.
"I believe we should uphold His Highness's pure intent even higher and petition to ban takju outright."
But Pilgyun, wise in his years, reined in my youthful radicalism appropriately.
"I agree Lee was rash. But banning takju too is overkill. You yangban might not know, but many poor folk depend on it for their livelihood."
Apparently, indirect lobbying via Pilgyun was overly ambitious. I backpedaled at once.
"This subordinate spoke too harshly."
"Haha. The fire of youth, indeed. No, that's the spirit you need."
Business done, I shifted the mood to wrap up.
Talking about Park Jiwon's studies at Gangnam Daeseong—progressing by leaps and bounds—cheered Pilgyun up even more.
No lie. I check every ten days.
Gangnam Daeseong students repeating daytime iron-pumping and nighttime reading—day-iron night-read—were already transforming physically. They'd all hit at least a 300kg three-lift soon enough.
Plenty to claim front seats. I'd seen that personal prowess mattered unless you had a bodyguard like Eoji.
Jiwon was still young. With more training (enough to knock out every exam-taker from behind), even first place was possible. Pilgyun rewarded me with hidden beef slices.
The very next day, Pilgyun alerted a colleague and shut down that scheming Lee's plot.
Accusation of blocking the king's sight? Absurd.
What's a secretariat for? Can't get work done if you relay every rambling fool.
Like switching supervisors because a call center complainer barked—do that, and heads roll. I saved him.
Hmm. But this diverges from the history I know.
Yeongjo wasn't such a pushover. How to turn this into full prohibition?
I'll have to play it by ear.
Kim Unhaeng's aimed-for "full prohibition" unfolded in a way he never anticipated.
Lee Mingon's remonstrance was blocked, but he was a herald.
The king's closest physical aide. So the king could learn of it through back channels.
Then it was simple. A single angry word to Deputy Han Sadok revealed the whole story.
Han deftly dodged Yeongjo's grilling by selling out Pilgyun.
A man worthy of future father-son honors in the Gisa Society.
King Lee Geum summoned Pilgyun with a stern face and feigned fury.
"My intent is precisely not to block ministers' loyal words—why did the Seungjeongwon obstruct a petition?"
Pilgyun felt like he was witnessing Genghis Khan's peace movement.
Countless chief censors exiled under Yeongjo for urging open speech. Even Han Ikmo, Unhaeng's solid backer, got axed early this year over a similar petition.
But Pilgyun hadn't wasted his years. He prostrated calmly and replied.
"A sage king's opening of speech channels is to accept the just views of many. Yet Lee Mingon's words stem not from the scholars' consensus but his own reckless stubbornness. I deemed it unfit to trouble Your Highness, so I merely advised an old friend. I deserve punishment for it."
"Then that 'scholars' consensus' you mentioned—does it mean even tomb rituals should use dan-sul? Did you poll them yourself?"
Pilgyun sensed complex intent in that brief moment.
To sum: "If that's what you wanted, just ask—why beat around the bush and make me sweat?"
"I haven't heard everyone, but even the Three Offices' officials praise the policy. That gives the general sense."
"The Three Offices, eh? Name them."
Even in an office, prying like that is rude. Especially for the Three Offices, granted speech privileges for oversight.
Yet Pilgyun hesitated briefly.
His veteran instinct confirmed Yeongjo sought the truth he knew.
In the end, Pilgyun chose a path worthy of Unhaeng's nickname for him.
"Hongmungwan Compiler Kim Unhaeng. He tutors my grandson, so we've spoken. His aspirations shine with pure clarity."
Geum didn't truly believe Unhaeng was that clear-minded.
But even in Pilgyun's eyes, he appeared so. Unlike zealots like Yi Taejung or Lee Mingon who mistook spouting their minds for integrity.
"I hear that name often lately."
"Your immense grace humbles me."
"Dismissed."
Including the prior Kim Jeonggu interrogation, this was a pass.
Geum decided.
Unhaeng no longer needed the Crown Prince Institute.
Noron be damned. He'd groom him as Tangpyeong's rising star.
Unhaeng's own wishes? Irrelevant. Geum hadn't even considered them.
Every soul in the realm, son included, was his property. As absurd as a hoe claiming it hates hitting rocks.
"At least a usable dalgu he'll make."
A dalgu rams earth flat for buildings.
To Yeongjo, eager to level court and world, a good tool was always handy.
Hoping it wouldn't snap uselessly—too much hassle to replace—such was Geum's wish.
With faint anticipation, he summoned the deputy minister.
Mid-April, edging into early summer, I left my beloved Hongmungwan.
But not the Three Offices.
"Appoint Hongmungwan Compiler Kim Unhaeng as Sahaenbu Investigator."
No promotion—just a lateral move at regular 5th rank. But its external impact was far greater.
For me, needing to purge two more, it was a godsend. I'd kowtow in thanks.
Time to properly wield Se-wha's Muhwang Safety Planning Department.
And as Investigator, I'd join my sixth cousin Kim Wonhaeng exactly there. With two slots, Sahaenbu mid-level was now "Haeng Clan" turf.
Ijo and the Three Offices balked, but Yeongjo had ironclad logic.
"Were Qi Hai and Ji Hai famed ministers only because they recommended foes? They recommended their own sons without hesitation—that's true fairness. Same-office kin happens often. Judge not by faction, but talent and virtue."
Thank you, Your Majesty. I'll put Sahaenbu to good use.
Thus, I also relinquished my concurrent Crown Prince Literary Instructor role at the Institute.
The Three Offices were a single Cerberus-like entity; the king could let me keep teaching the prince.
But Yeongjo explicitly appointed my Hongmungwan junior Park Seongwon instead.
Clear message: away from the prince.
I could guess the intent. Worried the prince might grow straight under my influence—no gripes then.
Document forger as tutor? No intent to raise him right, obviously.
Naturally, I wholeheartedly approved.
Perfect. Think I took the exam to write smut?
The prince tearfully vowed mutual edification forever, gripping my hand. I forgot it instantly.
Sahaenbu work first.
Beyond sniping for goals, the Investigator post offered huge perks.
Sahaenbu handles impeachments and audits, as known.
Mostly peers, but officially, it corrects capital customs too.
For that, it deploys "geumrye"—support staff like enforcement squadrons.
Sahaenbu alone among the Three Offices could directly form a proper Justice Squad.
Hullyeondogam razed many in Hanyang's precincts, but "Kim Unhaeng Justice Squad" was unborn. I wasn't precinct-attached.
I'd planned to beg cousin Wonhaeng, former Investigator, for indirect creation.
But whether lofty Wonhaeng would cooperate was doubtful; I pondered bribes or blackmail.
Yet Yeongjo handed me this massive force just to separate me from the prince.
Couldn't help but thank the palace.
Racing home, I shared the joyous news with Se-wha.
But my supposed sole confidante hesitated.
"Um... why are those 'dozens of geumrye' yours? No Grand Inspector, Deputy House Head (senior 3rd), or Director (regular 4th)? What if you're rebuked for misuse...?"
True to Se-wha, no objection to using geumrye for a direct squad to cash in.
I laughed heartily.
"Haha! You don't know everything, dear. But fret not. Who do our house servants heed?"
"Old steward Song, the eldest—or Jangbok if absent... Ah!"
My ten-plus junior auditors (regular 6th) were too low and busy for this.
Seniors had no time for lowly geumrye oversight.
Why military coups by division commanders, not chiefs? Exactly this.
Reassured, Se-wha showed her true colors.
"But to launch that venture, don't they need to ban takju too? With only soju crackdowns now, pickings seem slim."
I grinned.
I'd thought that once.
But sudden Sahaenbu appointment, plus Pilgyun admitting he'd mentioned me to the king—it let me guess Yeongjo's mind.
"Takju will be fully banned soon."
"So certain why?"
"Many ministers praised His Highness's resolve and urged bolder steps."
As Kim Unhaeng foresaw, King Lee Geum drew confidence from the Hullyeondogam dispatch and Pilgyun's stance.
With ministers Kim Seong-eung and Pilgyun, plus rising star Unhaeng deeming prohibition right.
Even among court stick-up-the-asses, some had brains (Seong-eung scored extra by aiding Unhaeng).
No more hesitation—push the ideal edict.
Kings could flip-flop freely.
Commoners relaxing with "takju still fine?" got thunderstruck.
"Upon reflection, rural takju rivals capital fine brews. Orders must be consistent for authority above and below. Thus, revise prior decree: rituals, farm wine, military supplies—all dan-sul only. Takju wholly banned. Report to royal tomb and proclaim."
The strictest prohibition ever. Everyone realized it was no joke.
As the "grace period" ended and May began proper enforcement, Sahaenbu geumrye—tasked with vigilant capital customs—armed with clubs and deployed across Seoul for sacred duty.
Sahaenbu Justice Squad's largest-ever drunkenness crackdown.
Temp "errand boys" swelled ranks fivefold, but Sahaenbu geumrye led.
At the fore: new Investigator Kim Unhaeng.
1. In real history, Yeongjo implemented prohibition four years later than in-story, initially allowing takju before banning it outright. The in-story "It just occurred to me (dan-sul's good)" and "Upon reflection (ban takju too)" are Yeongjo's actual words.
2. Hanseongbu Yado is around modern Seoul's Jung-gu, Seunghwa-dong.
3. In Sinosphere lore, alcohol originated with Yi-di (proper name, not bandit) in Yu era. Yu disliked Yi-di but couldn't quit drink, birthing Tyrant Jie (Yeongjo subtly compared himself favorably to King Wu over prohibition).
Prior, no alcohol—so hyeonju for rituals. Likely retrofitted classicism; "clear water, black hue"—lost tech. Early Joseon used empty cups; by story era, cheongju substitute.
4. Sahaenbu auditors: 13 total, 5 by privilege. Pure clerical roles—no impeachment/rem onstrance power. Mostly oversaw events or audits.
5. Yeongjo's personnel words accurate. Historically, Haeng kin Kim Seonhaeng and Kim Munhaeng co-served as deputy compilers and joint-petitioned.
6. Yi Mingon was fierce Tangpyeong foe; unrelated to factions, solo opposed Yeongjo 31 prohibition. Seungjeongwon blocked (not Pilgyun); he wasn't even herald then, unlike story.
7. Pilgyun and then-Deputy Han Sadok co-served as councilors in Yeongjo 16. Recorded in Taegak Hyanggwan Cheongso Jibyeongsi for king's Taehak poetry event. Pilgyun was prior deputy too.