Chapter 54
Chapter 54
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: 26. Secret Royal Inspector Kim Chunsik (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Chunsik Pasture's beasts were rightfully my property, along with Jo Ji-myeong's.
That was why, during Gejangpa's first incursion, Pyo Cheol-ju had been able to leisurely load them onto boats and ferry them across the Han River.
However, the horses and cattle that had made a mass escape from Salgoti Pasture made that impossible.
To do so would require preparing a large number of boats in advance, and there was no way to keep word from leaking during that process.
And if word got out, my entire disguise would be for nothing.
Therefore, this task had been assigned to Lee Jae-un and the Samhwadang, who had been waiting near the pasture.
I hadn't met every single beast when I first visited, either. Salgoti Pasture was a massive ranch that had raised a thousand warhorses in the early days of the dynasty and still housed four or five hundred today.
I had no idea what Yanam Park Ji-won had been looking at when he claimed there were no large inland ranches in Joseon. Had they seized it as the king's private land? Or was Jeju Island far larger?
In any case, that was why the alpha stallions among the horses and the cattle-driving hounds had been my primary targets.
Of course, I hadn't given them explicit orders like I would a person.
Unlike Chobok, these were creatures seeing me for the first time, so it was more persuasion than command. Their thought processes differ from humans', making it hard for me to explain the method precisely.
The closest analogy would be implanting the impression of "hope lies that way."
Here, "that way" meant northeast. Fortunately, the beasts had calmly led the horses and cattle from Salgoti Pasture.
The suspiciously orderly fleeing herds were safely recovered along the route from Salgoti all the way to Yangju County's Manguri-myeon (the modern-day Sangbong-Mangu-dong area of Seoul).
I had wanted to return quickly, but Iju-guk grabbed the primary contributor, insisting he couldn't let him leave without eating.
The Joseon custom of strong-arming guests by refusing to let them go continued. By the time I returned to the capital alongside the Training and Inspection Office, it was already late afternoon.
As I entered, weary from the journey, Se-hwa greeted me with a slightly tense expression.
She had only tried to dissuade me from going near the tiger and hadn't opposed the plan itself to "sneak off a few horses startled during the Training and Inspection Office's hunt" (though I hadn't kept my promise to just watch).
From that moment, Se-hwa had shown the prowess befitting a member of the Kim Un-haeng faction.
While I was away, she had adeptly gathered and organized reports from Lee Jae-un, Samhwadang, and various underlings. Lee Jae-un, introduced through her family, had handled everything smoothly.
"It's incredible. I never imagined so many would escape."
I hadn't expected the Training and Inspection Office to be breached so easily, either. Thanks to that, we'd struck gold.
"135 horses, 7 cattle, and 6 hounds. The dogs were remarkably clever, guiding the beasts without scattering, allowing us to capture them all."
My skill had played a big part, but as royal hounds, their intelligence was genuine. I nodded.
"How many of them would be the ones that 'never returned and fled forever'?"
Se-hwa wasn't just a secretary relaying news. I asked as if it were natural, and she answered without hesitation.
"61 horses bear brands. Those will all have to be surrendered. I was planning to discuss the rest with you."
I grimaced bitterly.
Darn, do we really have to return that many?
All the king's warhorses were branded.
It was a measure to identify stolen ones at a glance, with inspections every three years matching brands to ledgers.
Or so the kings had commanded.
Such laws were never truly enforced.
Ask any convenience store owner if barcodes prevent triangular kimbap from vanishing. Of course, they had compensatory perks like "holiday pay" and "severance."
The reason Joseon struggled to increase its warhorse numbers wasn't solely due to poor breeding techniques or conditions.
I'd wager plenty of foals born simply vanished like smoke despite being bred.
Salgoti Pasture was no exception. When I first inspected it, unbranded horses outnumbered the branded ones.
The Gejangpa herdsmen sold them off on the sly whenever needed, gauging the situation.
Did the king not know?
Of course he did. He turned a blind eye despite knowing.
There was no real way to stop it anyway.
Just like the Bureau of Royal Rites, the royal private pastures were playgrounds for lackeys.
Whether extorting resources from locals or arbitrarily expanding land, officials couldn't interfere. That was a massive perk.
"Strengthening royal authority" originally meant divvying up such perks to build a loyal base.
What I'd done in Mokcheon and Seoul was merely a scaled-down version of what the royals had practiced for centuries.
I stroked my chin thoughtfully.
My untrimmed beard lately scratched at my fingers.
"Hand over the branded horses as you said, and mix in about twenty unbranded ones besides."
Unbranded horses weren't on any records, so their disappearance wouldn't be noticed.
The Gejangpa folks would notice, though. They were their reserve assets, after all.
A reasonable compromise was needed. To sustain horse trading, I had to stay on good terms with the Salgoti crew.
Did I hand out food during the last tiger attack out of overflowing wealth?
It was all groundwork for camaraderie. Returning some unbranded horses would also signal my sincerity.
"Understood. We'll leave transport to Elder Pyo (Pyo Cheol-ju), and for the 'unbranded, forever-fled horses,' have Teacher Sikni-dang swap them quickly for others. There are a few ranches in Samnam too."
With that, we finalized the initial horse-laundering plan.
After drafting letters for various destinations, Se-hwa looked up at me with sparkling eyes.
"Having recovered and returned so many lost horses, His Majesty will surely bestow a reward, won't he?"
She didn't know I'd orchestrated this mess, so that was fair.
But to say that after we'd siphoned off nearly half the escapees—truly my wife. Utterly lovable.
Yet sadly, I had to shake my head at this adorable wife.
"I'm not so sure."
The king, being the nation incarnate, knew no such thing as clocking out or rest.
Thus, Yi Geum naturally assumed his ministers stood by 24/7 as well. How could shoes complain of fatigue when the master had to go out?
Even Yi Geum, appearing to rest in the privy chamber, hadn't clocked out.
An eunuch reported discreetly.
"The Supply Office says that among the horses that fled during the recent tiger incident, over eighty have been recovered and presented by Kim Un-haeng's pasture hands."
Verbal reports without documents weren't unusual here.
The "current" Yi Geum was operating as Gejangpa boss without historians present. Eunuchs were convenient for such matters.
Yi Geum asked casually, without glancing at the eunuch.
"Are there unbranded ones among them?"
"About a quarter lack brands."
"I see."
Neither the king nor the eunuch questioned why they hadn't branded per the law.
This was shadow dealings, not sunlight. Ignoring the law was the baseline premise.
Once the eunuch withdrew, Yi Geum pondered.
"Not stupid, then."
Had he half-assedly only brought branded ones, Yi Geum would have crushed him on the spot. But he knew what a modicum of sincerity looked like.
Naturally, he hadn't brought all the unbranded ones—that much could be overlooked. From the eunuch who'd just reported to the Supply Office officials and lowly herdsmen, everyone skimmed layers off the top.
Of course, Yi Geum didn't know Kim Un-haeng was behind the incident.
Not even Yi Geum could imagine he'd summoned the tiger.
Yet he harbored no gratitude toward the man who'd slain it—not because his wiring lacked a "thanks" function.
Precisely, there was one person Yi Geum felt true gratitude toward.
His brother, who had died just in time before Noron hands finished him off. His brother's tearful cries of "elder brother's grace" weren't all hypocrisy.
No one else.
Thus, Yi Geum felt no particular thanks toward Kim Un-haeng.
Instead, he gauged the man's attitude.
Kim Un-haeng had stepped forward to protect the royal pasture, risking his scholar reputation.
A sitting Saheonbu official's wild antics were unprecedented. The livestock recovery clearly eyed his mood.
Now it was clear.
Kim Un-haeng had abandoned his ambiguous quantum cloud of probabilities.
Collapsed under his "power" and "wisdom's" observation.
Yi Geum had achieved his initial "submission" goal.
But ending there would make him an ordinary monarch.
Yi Geum aimed to mold Kim Un-haeng into a "complete loyalist."
As well-known, King Yeongjo in history loved cats.
When ministers claimed cat rawhide cured neuralgia, he refused, saying it couldn't possibly be right out of affection.
Had he cherished his sons half as much, the Imo Firebird Incident wouldn't have happened.
Not a rare taste. Mafia bosses in movies, cartoon crime syndicate leaders—plenty cat lovers.
Thus, some of Yeongjo's ruling style mimicked cats.
Cats often toy with mice or birds for fun, unrelated to hunger.
Seeming to release, then pinning with claws; feigning departure, then pouncing to bite.
The tormented small beast eventually despairs alive.
Alternating punishment and pardon to shatter the mind and break them in. Yeongjo's favorite control tactic for ministers (sons included).
Being right by the capital, embellishing was hard; Iju-guk's report was mostly factual.
Yi Geum easily found faults.
"The hunt was to protect the pasture, yet it destroyed the pasture and let beasts flee? What greater inversion of means and ends? Imprison Ranch Supervisor Iju-guk for interrogation, and dismiss Training Commander Kim Seong-eung."
Punishments didn't end there.
"Lately, the national ethos has grown coarse and cruel, with many exalting the martial over the civil—a true worry of mine. This is precisely what I endlessly admonished the Eastern Palace about."
Thus rebuking the unrelated crown prince offhand, the king issued an edict casually.
"It wasn't urgent, yet without restraint, he rashly intervened, flaunting petty valor and tarnishing the dignity of the Three Offices' censors. Thus, Saheonbu Investigator Kim Un-haeng is dismissed."
I hadn't recovered and returned the horses to earn praise or reward from Yeongjo.
It was minimal self-defense. I'd planned the incident to take as much as I'd lost, but direct confrontation with Yeongjo was impossible.
Even so, having done this much, I figured Yeongjo—ignorant of the backstory—would see it as my submission and let it slide.
But Yeongjo's response exceeded my imagination.
I knew it could be framed as breaching decorum duties.
Yet in civil-ruled Joseon, tiger hunting was encouraged regardless of status or scholarly/martial divide, even awarded.
By Joseon standards, it was remarkable but hardly unforgivable. Like a university professor entering a boxing tournament.
Not an era to recall archery-skilled rebels. Personal valor achieving great deeds had ended before the Spring and Autumn era. That rebel's power lay in vast lands and wealth as Northern Duke, not bow skills.
Yet Yeongjo didn't interpret this hunt as pasture self-defense.
He ignored the effort preserving royal property through force.
Instead, he sacked me and all involved in one stroke.
Still, I wasn't despairing.
In Joseon bureaucracy, a dozen dismissals weren't even many. This was my second already.
I was simply impressed.
This man was truly a king.
The sort for whom all humans naturally existed to serve him alone.
Yeongjo didn't know I'd caused the incident.
Yet (likely due to displeasure), he ignored my "merit" entirely, bundling me with other culprits and discarding us.
A bold act proclaiming conscience and empathy as crutches for the weak.
Among animals, those famed for conspecific predation or enjoying it often bear "king" in their names.
I thought I understood why.
Se-hwa's strength lay in not fretting uselessly over "what now?"
She briefly flashed a rebel's scowl at Yeongjo's ingratitude but soon proposed a countermeasure.
"We can send word to the Crown Princess via her ladies. How about petitioning for pardon through the Little Dynasty that way?"
Sorry, but veto. The crown prince stays put knowing his involvement would backfire. Probably fears his father most.
No need to rush that far.
Grasping Yeongjo's extreme egoism and viewing events from his perspective made his actions predictable.
A few days later, Training Commander Kim Seong-eung and Hojo Left Scribe Iju-guk were reinstated unscathed.
I wasn't.
Now the intent was crystal clear.
He pardoned those with direct dismissal pretexts but not me.
Far too blatant a show of "look at me."
He wanted everyone trembling anxiously before him? Couldn't tolerate anyone seeming more knowing or composed than him?
Got it. I'd seen your type in Korea plenty.
I resolved to satisfy the king.
I wandered about like a cheap loafer, petitioning everywhere for reinstatement.
My act as a rookie official flustered by royal wrath was flawless. My court experience made it easy.
Joseon folk (kings aside) were generally kind-hearted.
They eyed sympathetically my frantic lobbying visits.
Even among them, Soldiering Minister Hong Gye-hui fumed at his close ally punished for nothing.
"When the stable burned, did the scholar save horses or people? Punishing a meritorious minister over horses—next time they're devoured by tigers, we must hold ducal funeral rites like King Jang of Chu and enfeoff a thousand households for burial!"
With last year's Min Baek-sang fiasco prompting Yeongjo to specially appoint a Soron as Chief Investigator, Noron grudges had piled up.
But quoting that verbatim in a memorial would kill Hong Gye-hui. I talked him down.
After a few days, Yeongjo's bloated ego seemed sated.
Kings rarely granted low officials audience except for county magistrate dispatches.
Even Three Offices did so only as "handling officials" for petitions or impeachments, not daily as "politicians" like high ministers.
But this was one rare exception.
Yi Geum silently gazed at the youth prostrated before him after summons. Then, without prelude, he spoke.
"I've heard you possess various talents."
"I am deeply ashamed."
"Former" Saheonbu Investigator Kim Un-haeng replied in a slightly trembling voice.
Missing even that artifice, Yi Geum deemed his "tolerance arts" effective.
Yi Geum decided to grant grace to this young scholar, surely quaking from his prior wrath.
The king spoke magnanimously.
"As I edicted before, the young often grow arrogant in high posts. Your hubris faintly showed in this affair, so despite minor merit, I dismissed you. But deeming this admonition sufficient lesson, I intend to forgive."
Kim Un-haeng trembled silently, as if weeping. Yi Geum was fully satisfied.
Thus, Yi Geum cut to the chase.
"I know the character of former Merchant Guild Deputy Kim Yong-gyeom. Inheriting various arts from your father equips you for myriad changes by riverside, so distant matters too."
Yi Geum's words weren't reappointing him as remote magistrate.
Yi Geum took the sealed document from his desk.
At the deputy scribe's glance, Kim Un-haeng advanced naturally.
Yi Geum handed it over.
For the first time since facing Yi Geum, Kim Un-haeng showed a genuine reaction. He flinched in surprise unwittingly.
But Yi Geum already saw him as mentally crushed by his majesty, so overlooked the rudeness. The level gap was too vast for "carelessness" lectures.
Now, Kim Un-haeng had clearly surrendered.
Thus, let him cool his head awhile, grant chance to display talents, and groom as future Tangpyeongpa.
Yi Geum maintained stern visage, hiding such thoughts.
"As you know, you cannot open it in the capital. Depart the city at once to fulfill the command."
Kim Un-haeng swallowed hard at the least-expected scenario among possibilities.
'Secret Royal Inspector!'
1. King Jang of Chu cherished his horse and wished ducal funeral rites, but ministers opposed. He threatened to kill dissenters. In Spring and Autumn/Warring States, sashimi-ing courtiers per word wouldn't raise eyebrows.
Amid silence, one minister stepped forth: "Not ducal, but kingly rites would convince the world Chu truly values animal welfare." Ashamed, the king rescinded.
2. In late 27th year of Yeongjo, Sim Yuk was appointed Chief Investigator. He passed exams and had experience but only as licentiate, not great exam graduate. Appointed via "hidden talent" method.
Sim Yuk had refused all posts prior, so Yeongjo knew he'd decline. Likely intent: specially appointing a Soron recluse to Chief Investigator to irk Noron.
3. Kings personally handing sealed orders for secret inspectors is factual. Nor do they declare "you're now secret inspector" or destinations. All for secrecy.