Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: 25. Wangsimni Cowboy (1)
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The Crown Prince had been preparing, alongside the Crown Princess, contingency measures for "just in case something happens to Grand Heir Yi Jeong" well in advance.
Perhaps because of that, the now wiser Crown Prince came up with a plan that would benefit both himself and Kim Unhaeng.
Hong Sanghan, the current head of the Royal Pharmacy, was the cousin of Hong Bonghan, the Crown Prince's father-in-law.
Unable to move about freely, the Crown Prince had conveyed his message through the Crown Princess to Hong Bonghan, and from Hong Bonghan to Hong Sanghan.
"If I say I brought medicine from some distant place, His Majesty will surely reprimand us harshly, saying how dare we give the Grand Heir medicine of unknown origin. So let's say the Grand Heir's recovery this time is thanks to a prescription we devised together at the pharmacy."
If anyone probed into the Grand Heir's recovery, Kim Unhaeng's name would inevitably come up. And if that happened, the shaman would be exposed too.
It was better to have this plausible official scenario in place. Hong Bonghan and Hong Sanghan readily agreed, as it would boost their own merits.
Questioning how the Crown Prince could come up with such a scheme was an insult to his filial piety.
Just four years ago, he had fetched trendy, modern seasoned chili paste for his nearly dying father, achieving results worthy of the Three Bonds and Five Constants without shame.
For a Crown Prince already renowned as a medical hunter, it wouldn't seem strange if he had once again procured a good prescription from somewhere.
They couldn't call it a lie either. Back with the chili paste, the Crown Prince hadn't ladled it out of the jar himself anyway. If he was the one in charge, then it was something he had obtained.
Besides, the Crown Prince had one more calculation in mind.
Anyone hearing "the Crown Prince prescribed the medicine" would recall the events of four years ago.
If even a shred of conscience remained toward his father, they wouldn't dare torment the Crown Prince further—not after thinking of that chili paste.
Unfortunately, this was the difference between Kim Unhaeng and the Crown Prince.
Kim Unhaeng wouldn't hold out any miraculous hope that Yeongjo would suddenly rediscover his conscience.
Yi Geum, who seemed to have digested both the chili paste and his conscience four years ago, flew into a rage without a hint of shame.
"What does the Crown Prince know about medicine to dare prescribe for the nation's foundation on his own whim? Do you mean to claim one stroke of luck makes it right? Dismiss Hong Sanghan from his post at the pharmacy, and examine Kim Yakro, the deputy, as well."
The ministers barely swallowed the retort: "What do you know about medicine to prescribe 'that' for your brother?"
Not only with salted fermented crab and raw ginger, but even King Gyeongjong's final herbal tonic had been mostly managed by the current king. And King Gyeongjong had died.
But it didn't end there. Yi Geum also rebuked the Crown Prince.
"This must be something the Crown Prince learned from someone who frequents the palace, yet despite my ban on lowborns, he feigns propriety in front only to defy orders behind my back. It's outrageous. From now on, I shall scrutinize it even more strictly!"
The ministers could no longer hold back.
There was a limit to wielding baseless conjectures and unreasonable tyranny. This was too much. They didn't know the term "brain fart," but that's exactly how they felt.
So they all defied the king.
"The Crown Prince is well-versed in all scholarly arts, so how could he not know medical techniques? The Grand Heir is to become the direct successor to the Crown Prince—would he handle it carelessly? Even if subordinates failed in their duties and deserve punishment, rebuking the Crown Prince is unjust."
"The Grand Heir's smooth recovery is an unprecedented blessing. At such times, even petty criminals are amnestied with great pardons—how much more so to punish ministers without cause?"
"Considering the Crown Prince's grave duty of regency, it is not only tutors and guests he should meet, but various ministers as well. If he only meets officials from the Crown Prince's Education Office as in his pre-regency childcare days, what would be the point of the regency? Please reconsider, Your Majesty."
There were no Noron or Soron divisions. It was rare partisan cooperation. Yi Geum had achieved tangpyeong in that moment.
Of course, as Kim Unhaeng had assessed, Yi Geum's personality was rotten, not his brain. He had anticipated this level of backlash.
Yi Geum's real aim lay elsewhere.
Deliberations like this weren't conducted verbally.
Unless in special cases, communication between king and ministers was almost entirely in writing.
Unlike spoken words that couldn't be taken back, documents could be "retrieved."
This was interpreted as "cancelling the order," and indeed, during the Min Baek-sang incident, ministers had even petitioned to retrieve their "filial impiety" pad-lip remarks.
So Yi Geum retrieved the written reprimand against the Crown Prince, as the ministers wished.
However, he did not cancel Hong Sanghan's dismissal—that was Yi Geum's trap.
"I do not accept the joint petition from Hong Sanghan and Hong Bonghan to send wet nurse Gyeong Yeong into exile. It is improper even considering her status as the king's aunt by marriage, and I cannot arbitrarily punish a wet nurse appointed by the Grand Royal Queen Dowager. Did you not all say not to punish ministers during celebrations?"
The authority over wet nurses lay with the Inner Palace Bureau. Yi Geum played the filial son again, using the ministers' own words to bind them from opposing him further. The Crown Prince was merely a bargaining chip in the process.
Of course, with this commotion, even the astute Grand Royal Queen Dowager Kim would have no choice but to replace the wet nurse if she had any sense.
Though Yi Geum fawned over "the Queen Dowager's edict" at every turn, she too was just one pillar of his power base.
Gyeong Yeong hadn't been exiled, but she was quietly sacked. There had been plenty of voices worrying the wet nurse was tormenting the child anyway, so there was little conflict on that front.
Through this series of events, Yi Geum had somewhat blocked merit from going to the detestable Crown Prince.
Then he quietly sank back into thought.
The edict about "receiving guidance from someone" was half-sincere. Given the Crown Prince's knowledge level that he roughly knew, it was impossible for him to suddenly devise such a marvelous prescription.
Killing prescriptions were easy; life-saving ones were hard. To Yi Geum, medicine was murder.
There had to be someone he didn't know.
"Could it be...?"
There was no evidence, but intuition pointed to one person. One of the few close to the Crown Prince who didn't go through him.
However, Yi Geum had no intention of digging into "whether it was really Kim Unhaeng." If it truly was, and some "punishable offense" emerged in the process, he'd lose a card he could hold.
Kim Unhaeng's ambiguity was impressive.
Noron shouldn't aid the Crown Prince. Of course, they wouldn't dream of assassinating him either, so they spoke up this time—but there was no reason to help so aggressively, risking danger.
Though Yi Geum hated to admit it, current bureaucrats cared more about impressing their faction than the next king.
Yet he didn't seem to be switching to Soron either. The anecdote of him scolding Jo Jae-ho, a Soron leader, for arrogance before the Chief State Censor clearly bred enmity with Soron.
Was he a tangpyeong factionist, or just a petty short-sighted villain?
To find out, Yi Geum briefly reverted to his fermented crab gang leader days.
Sending out informal underlings to investigate, he learned Kim Unhaeng had set up his own ranch near the Salgoti Ranch with Soron member Jo Ji-myeong.
It wasn't "legally" illegal.
But "true" illegality was defined by the king who received Heaven's Mandate. This was a moral state, not a rule-of-law one.
Yi Geum decided to use just a sliver of his "tangpyeong power."
Not re-testing—that would waste time on small fry twice over; he wasn't that idle.
Too lazy to think more, he'd make him submit this time.
Kim Unhaeng seemed clever enough to understand the signal he sent.
If not, he'd just eliminate him.
In early 1752 of King Yeongjo's reign, bizarrely, animal-related disasters struck Joseon frequently.
As if the Druid King's spirit had been revived by a black mage, locusts swarmed the southern provinces, and in the northern, rat packs devoured children's eyes while they lived—horrific from south to north.
Tigers even appeared around Hanyang. Jangbok and the like looked to me expectantly, but I didn't go hunt them.
I never wanted to relive Mokcheon. Now I could somewhat communicate with animal friends, but humans killed over miscommunications—what was that about?
I had no desire to die foolishly playing hero as an unarmed man. Unless they invaded my home.
So when Piao Cheolju came rushing breathlessly to Seoul, I thought it was that.
"A tiger at the ranch?"
Piao Cheolju gulped down his panting breath and said,
"Something more fearsome than a tiger!"
Piao Cheolju was right.
Harsh government is more fierce than tigers. Even those who lost their entire family to tigers feared the world's cruelties more and wouldn't descend from the mountains.
I felt that sentiment acutely now.
At the ranch—called Chun-sik Ranch by officials (better than Jo Ji-myeong's, so I endured)—it looked like a battlefield.
The building used as lodging and storage for the herdsmen had its fence smashed and door ripped off. Tools and food were all gone.
Horses, being self-aware animals, couldn't be hauled like rice sacks, but several good steeds were missing. The pony had luckily fled in time and nuzzled my head.
I barely suppressed rising curses. Here, I had to embody the Master's Way. I asked Piao Cheolju,
"Any deaths?"
"Fortunately none. But they're all beaten badly enough to need rest."
"From the Salgoti Ranch?"
Then they were royal agents.
I'd thought settling next to the royal ranch would shield us from the governor's exploitation. But now the royals themselves invaded ours.
"But why?"
I looked around. A few more were there, dismantling fence materials as if regretting not taking enough.
Acting like it was all theirs by right. I took Eoji and approached unhurriedly.
With Eoji there, dialogue started verbally, at least.
"Who're you?"
Royal servants, even lowly slaves, saw yangban like beggars' rags. Ah, the might of Joseon's royal authority.
They looked like commoners from Yao-Shun days, heads held high—I wanted to hand them to Eoji for etiquette training, but held back.
"I am here on behalf of Jo Mun of Pungyang, who invested in this ranch, bought the land, and raises horses. Why do you so lawlessly plunder others' property and assault people?"
I tested first by name-dropping Pungyang Jo clan. It was true—Jo Ji-myeong was a co-investor.
Many clans could somewhat stand up to Pungyang Jo, but none could slap them outright in Joseon. But if these guys...
"What Jo clan? Some shitty Jo? Do I need to spell out whose clan owns the Salgoti next door?"
If they spat like that, it'd be clear.
Some royal's ambition? No, current royals couldn't wield that much power.
Hard to imagine now that he was king, but Yi Geum, infamous since Prince Yeoning days for dragging thugs around causing trouble, might be behind it personally.
The fermented crab gang moving?
I racked my brains while pulling out documents.
"Whoever the owner, this land was bought with money from Pungyang Jo and Andong Kim clans. Fine for goods or horses, but injuring people? Is that acceptable?"
The scum mockingly squinted at the papers before tossing them.
"Aigoo, we're lowly commoners who can't read."
"'Injuring people? Is that acceptable!' Heh. How lofty your virtue. Then don't resist—just stay meek."
"We're no different from the estate's limbs, so bark like kicked dogs all you want—no use."
"This yangban must think the world runs on ink since that's all he's stuffed his belly with!"
They all guffawed at the end.
Luckily, Eoji didn't grasp mockery well. Otherwise, they'd all be dead, and I wouldn't escape unscathed.
Piao Cheolju whispered,
"I've said the same, and they've spouted that already. Withdraw for now, sir. If truly royal agents, no recourse. I'll secure the horses. Bought land expanding Gangnam Daeseong—stash them there temporarily."
A surprisingly clean plan. I mentally upped Piao Cheolju's score.
"Good. And no sending people here for a while."
"What do you plan?"
"How could heaven not send calamity upon such lawless scum?"
With that, I whirled my robe and turned away.
Behind, they sneered hearing my words: "That calamity sounds scary!" "Just a brat's tantrum in anger!" I thoroughly ignored them.
Back home, Se-hwa said,
"The Crown Princess sent overly generous gifts again—silks, clothes—for the Lantern Festival. We should offer something in return."
Grand Heir Yi Jeong seemed fully recovered. Good. This side was safe now.
"I'll leave that to you. Treat the bearers well, and offer whatever you deem appropriate. I have somewhere to go."
I opened the wall closet. Inside was a bow, unstrung and stored.
Se-hwa eyed me curiously as I restrung the reversed bow.
"A bow out of nowhere? Oh, for the capital's tigers? Too dangerous. There are other ways to earn merit..."
Telling my real plan here? She'd drug my food (if she had any) to stop me. I reassured her.
"Not that. Just traveling between Gwangju and Seoul lately, and with beasts rampaging as you said, taking precautions."
"Then I'm relieved... but originally, protecting people comes from virtue and prestige, not weapons. Bring the bow, but above all, take many men. That would be wiser."
I nodded and left.
But I ignored Se-hwa's condition.
I took only Eoji, who could keep a secret no matter what, mounted the pony brought since the ranch was gone, and set out again.
The pony carried various loads I'd bought en route—things people couldn't quickly identify.
Of course, I wasn't going to shoot the king for wrecking my ranch.
I wanted to emotionally, but if possible, I'd have done it at Jiksan long ago.
Same reason I couldn't touch the Salgoti royal agents.
Sado Seja slaughtering a hundred like flies seemed laughable, but even in premodern times, murder wasn't easily overlooked.
Permitted only to the king, royals, and their tools.
For the first time since the exam hall, revolutionary blood surged.
I decided to teach these anachronistic royalists the truth.
This country wasn't the king's.
It was "ours."
But I had no intention of shooting the king or lowly scum and forfeiting my Chief State Councillor path.
I was aiming my bow at the very foundation of the power those Salgoti royalist bastards wielded.
An arrow from a former democratic republic citizen.
1. The Crown Prince's chili paste story came up before, but besides that, Yeongjo offered various foods when he had stomatitis and no appetite. Common point: appetite stimulants. Some interpret not chili paste, but it got too wordy, so in-story, it's unified as chili paste.
2. Among the four Noron ministers executed in the Shinim literary purge, Yi Gi-ji (son of Yi Yi-myeong) was also executed then. He defended claiming Mok Ho-ryong (accuser) framed him out of personal grudge, saying, "Mok Ho-ryong serves as dojo (like a palace brothel overseer) outside some prince's residence walls, which chilled me to the bone, so I cut ties." (Gyeongjong Annals).
From this and other records, we can imagine the princes' private violence squads were exploitatively criminal enough to be "chilling." And Yeongjo's brother Prince Yeoning was already dead (records note no nuisances), so only one prince fits.
3. Confucius, at a stable fire, only asked "Any people hurt?"—not about horses or property. That's what Kim Unhaeng means.
4. Bows are unstrung and reversed ("buri") when not in use to maintain elasticity.