Chapter 93
Chapter 93
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 93
Chapter Title: Desires of Busanpo (1)
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Akamagaseki inkstone?
What the hell is that?
I hurriedly activated my trait Foresight to check the sub-goal.
Was it just my imagination, or was the Status Window going out of its way to screw me over?
It felt like it was telling me to trade with Japan somehow—hell, outright illegally. But that didn't sit right with me at all.
Forget the fallout; the orthodox Neo-Confucian blood in my veins rebelled at the thought of dealing with those barbaric island savages.
In this era where time moved slower than in the modern day, the resentment from the Imjin War was still fresh, making it socially risky too.
At any rate, it didn't explicitly say I had to smuggle, so I'd think it over carefully.
I needed to weigh whether to complete the sub-goal at all. If I got caught, I'd end up in a mess ten times worse than those smugglers Han Jung-ryang nabbed.
Speaking of Han Jung-ryang, I should handle the immediate issue first.
He wasn't just some gift-sender; considering everything, he seemed like a brilliant general—militarily talented and well-versed in propriety and etiquette.
He qualified to join my list of "gentlemen" associates.
In the worst case, befriending a naval commander wasn't a bad move.
I turned to Yi Jae-un.
"Reply that I'm grateful for the gift and send an appropriate return one that matches it. You can even casually mention that I'll put in a good word with Lord Yadong (Park Pilgyun), who's been reappointed as Second Minister of the Ministry of War."
Yi Jae-un, clearly impressed by Han Jung-ryang's capabilities, nodded eagerly.
"As expected of you, my lord—you saw right through it."
We chatted a bit more before Yi Jae-un rose to leave. Something occurred to me, so I stopped him.
"By the way, teacher, do you know of a place called Gyeokgan-gwan? They say inkstones come from there."
Yi Jae-un tilted his head for a moment before replying.
"I mainly dealt in rice and cloth, so I'm not well-versed in foreign goods, but the Akamagaseki inkstones from Gyeokgan-gwan are coveted by all the capital's antique enthusiasts. I hear they're occasionally brought back by diplomatic missions."
"Oh ho, diplomatic missions."
Right. Now that I thought about it, there were diplomatic missions.
The Status Window, unlike me a history major, must've blanked on it (which is why we need to hire more humanities folks). Trade between Joseon and Japan didn't happen only at the Waegwan.
No need to ask anyone else. I could do it myself.
China and Japan might both be barbarian lands now, but barbarians had grades.
The Qing were top-tier barbarians—at least a king or prince had to lead an official embassy.
The Japanese, on the other hand, had been consistent low-tier barbarians since ancient times.
That's why even mid-level officials could head diplomatic missions.
Uncle Hong Gye-hee had been a deputy ambassador when he went as chief envoy, so that rank would suffice. A rank 3 position like that wasn't far off for me.
Besides, no Joseon scholar in their right mind wanted to crawl into a pirate den.
Diplomatic chief envoy posts triggered mass resignations every time. All I had to do was raise my hand, and it'd be mine—a goal ripe for the taking.
Yi Jae-un added,
"There was a mission four or five years ago, so imports will be scarce from now on. Prices will naturally skyrocket. Is that what you had in mind?"
I froze mid-question—"Why not?"
Damn.
This ironclad Status Window bastard.
Diplomatic missions went when the shogun changed—not annually like to China.
In other words, unless the current shogun had no heir, was impotent, and had a younger brother like our king—a perfect match for King Gyeongjong's trio of woes—there'd be no mission for another four years.
Yi Jae-un casually plunged me into despair once more.
"Inkstones and ink sticks are pricey items for scholars, so even the Waegwan probably doesn't stock much. You'll have to go to Gyeokgan-gwan. Prices will rise, sure, but the antique markets are flooded with fakes—it's risky. Shall I look into it?"
"No, no. I just heard a rumor and mentioned it offhand. Just handle the Han Jung-ryang matter first."
After sending Yi Jae-un off, I sank into thought for a moment.
Then belated fury washed over me.
That Yi Jae-un—he didn't even consider I might buy an inkstone purely to promote scholarly arts?
Did he think I saw stationery as mere merchant fodder for profit?
Time to remind everyone of "Literary Master Kim Unhaeng."
With the diplomatic route smashed, I needed backups in place.
Contacts with Japan or ramped-up private trade shouldn't look too suspicious.
While biding my time, good news arrived from outside the capital.
After the cuckoo hunt succeeded, I stopped worrying much about Lady Mun.
Even if she'd normally birthed a son in the palace, her position would've been precarious.
I knew history; no one else could've imagined King Yeongjo killing Crown Prince Sado and enthroning Lady Mun's son—that nightmare scenario.
How much worse now, implicated in the cuckoo plot?
If she'd done a Sado-style white-clothed suicide or even attempted to assassinate the queen or crown prince, forgiveness might've come later based on the king's mood—precedents existed.
But the cuckoo implication was the problem.
The king was defined solely by bloodline.
The king bowed to nothing—except bloodline, to which he submitted more fiercely than anyone, even as king to the superior "blood vein."
Lady Mun's crime of subverting that couldn't be pardoned by royal whim, unlike others. Better to have plotted to "kill" royalty.
Even a stubborn master like Yeongjo had to depose her—that proved it. Ending at deposition was thanks to his supreme political skill.
Lady Mun innocent?
Even if true, she had to die.
Her brother did it. In treason, blood kin's guilt implicates you.
And it was "for her"—no excuses.
How many royals in our history got executed while innocently sleeping at home, unaware of rebels plotting their enthronement?
Even now, the Office of the Inspector General—not to mention provincial censors—sent up monthly petitions to kill her like clockwork.
Yeah, I orchestrated that through my in-laws and Noron connections—er, advised it.
Yeongjo couldn't punish due to public opinion, so he played the magnanimous king opening the floodgates of remonstrance.
In "Kim Chunsik Noron Crown Prince Faction Rebel" mode, I'd half-wished for a son.
If that son grew up while Yeongjo still lived and pulled a successor swap, rebellion would be a breeze.
Lady Mun's son, barred from the palace, would build power alone; palace and court weren't pushovers, even with Yeongjo's backing.
Starting with the queen dowager's disapproval, Uncle Hong Bong-han's Noron hardliners would flip first; others couldn't justify support.
"Do you know whose son that kid is?"
Of course, my Noron Chunsik moderates would join, and the Nam-in Chun-sik seconds too.
No need to arrow Yeongjo directly—far less risky.
"Punish the witch and sycophants clouding the king's eyes!"
More traditional than ironclad discoveries—a rebel catchphrase.
Key: Don't deny Yeongjo's birth like Yi In-jwa; that blocks crowning the prince.
Just make him a Lee Seong-gye redux.
Ironically, set on ousting Yeongjo when the chance came, I no longer needed to worry about Lady Mun's son.
But the crown prince himself couldn't help feeling anxious.
With Lady Mun's due date near anyway, I spent days querying Uncle Hong Gye-hee about Japan while gathering painters through Samhwadang.
Soon after, Lady Mun birthed a daughter. That was my good news.
Neither she nor the girl merited death now—fortunate. I wouldn't see an innocent child killed.
Exiled from the palace, her chances were gone forever.
Yeongjo regranting her favor at her temple was less likely than Gabriel impregnating Mary—and she failed the "married virgin" hardcore prerequisite anyway.
I seized the moment to petition the crown prince.
This had to be the peak of his life.
I was right.
The crown prince was, strictly speaking, the regent of this land.
Even before, he could've summoned me anytime on routine pretexts without whimpering.
But excuses depend on the speaker.
A model student's "I helped a lost grandma with her luggage" for tardiness flies; a delinquent thug spouting it gets laughed off.
Proof the prince's power had utterly changed post-cuckoo. Another reason I wasn't worried.
He received me with a gentle expression.
"I've heard your patrols have upheld the alcohol ban in the capital and sharply reduced crime."
"You overpraise me, Your Highness."
After perfunctory reports, he dismissed attendants, keeping only eunuchs, and strolled the courtyard with me. Private indoor audiences too often bred suspicion.
At least these days, less stressed, he rarely suggested archery or polo—thank goodness.
Having smacked his father once probably unleashed a decade's worth of satisfaction at once.
Tilting his head, he whispered,
"It's a girl."
Lady Mun naturally had official Royal Guard watchers.
Thus, the prince knew. Even without Jo Jae-ho, he wielded influence over the Guard.
Feigning total ignorance and cleverly trimming context for ambiguity—like the prince—I replied,
"Truly fortunate."
Eunuchs could hear that much. Hell, everyone knew the prince's situation now—no Lady Mun nudes anymore.
But from here, words needed care.
I tossed metaphor-laced bait he couldn't ignore.
"Are you aware of a certain treatise from Japan called Ka-i Hentai?"
"First I've heard of it. What's that?"
Truth be told, I'd only learned recently while researching Japan.
In short, it was like Kim Yak-haeng's future "Imperial Construction and Primacy" remonstrance.
"In a world where Jurchens make emperors, the line between barbarian and civilized is gone. Shouldn't we call ourselves the central dynasty now, not outer vassals?"
Arrogant drivel spreading among Japanese intellectuals.
Had these islanders lost it? Banking on their landlocked earth affinity to trash-talk seafaring?
No China? Then Joseon, bastion of rites and music, was next. Honestly, this made me side with Kim Yak-haeng here.
Thus, civilized [China] and barbarians [Yi] transforming [Hentai]—hence the name.
The prince, perking up at "hentai" (a modern term he picked from my Naked Chinese History's Korean slips, thinking it Chinese), looked mildly disappointed.
"Hm. But island barbarians, isolated and ignorant of the world—like that arrogant letter to Sui Emperor Yang boasting of the emperor where the sun rises. Nothing new."
But as his chief retainer, I didn't let him dismiss it fully.
What came next was truly that "pervy" stuff.
"It aligns perfectly with the Way. Yet the native scholarship inspired by this Ka-i Hentai theory is compelling—especially their 'reinterpretations of the Classics.' They even add precise illustrations like our Samgang Haengsil-do, making it accessible to all."
The prince's eyes gleamed.
A Northern Studies advocate, he was primed for foreign learning.
Unable to contain his scholarly zeal, he pressed urgently,
"What is it? Do you have the book?"
I shook my head sadly.
"No missions lately—unless I'm that lascivious Ulleung spy recently caught, how could I import books? I regret not expounding it for Your Highness."
"Not at the Waegwan?"
"Haven't checked yet."
The prince, turning rabid enlightenment radical at history books, pondered gravely—more than over Lady Mun.
Word from Crown Princess (Yeon-i) was he'd lately favored a concubine. Guess that wasn't it, as I'd first thought.
No way he'd test stuff too risqué to suggest to crown princess nobility on a concubine? Gotta tone down the hardcore bits.
Not 100% satisfied but giving the answer I wanted, he said,
"With that shocking Ulleung crime recently, we must check the Waegwan for unrest."
"Your foolish servant concurs."
"Good. I'll consult others and command soon."
"I await your order."
I left the crown prince's palace buoyantly.
My aims: two.
First, ease his aversion to Japanese culture to diversify paths for Japan trade and goal completion.
Second, exert influence over Busanpo's Waegwan.
Ideally, eliminate it.
Currently, just one: Busanpo's Cheoryang Waegwan.
Imjin War fallout played a role, but even without, no expanding them.
I opposed most vehemently. What to trust in pirate scum pulling trade scams, revolts, crimes galore? Like opening a factory to Brits.
They cause havoc, we lop heads of unclear guilt, beg reopening—then repeat. Centuries of this.
21st-century knowledge: This Waegwan leaked tech too.
Joseon's cotton weaving, raw ginseng, pottery—all via Waegwan. Premodern trade controls had reasons.
All for the nation.
Defend righteousness, repel evil [Wei Zheng Chi Xie].
Not because closing it would motivate their smuggling routes. No way.
"Waegwan books" required elaborate work.
Naked Chinese History I could whip up, but Ka-i Hentai knockoffs differed. Literary exam passers like me can't draw.
Hence painters—but content barred direct oversight by a Neo-Confucian like me.
So I borrowed Hong Daeyong's name, posing as "Hong, a Cheonan native in Hanyang," and sent Eoji with a letter under it.
Guided meticulously, painters worked solo at home, handing originals to Eoji.
Eoji brought them to me. Indifferent to knowledge media—couldn't speak well, let alone write—paper and equal-volume wood were identical to him.
Thus, painters grumbled about "Hong Jinsa's" unseemly hobby and dove in.
I chose this ugly tool to sway the prince for a reason.
Waegwan elimination needed big crime; routine unauthorized outings or item violations lacked impact.
Joseons most reviled: ethical sins.
Not armed revolt sparking bilateral crisis—just dirty Waegwan fault.
Fortune favored: Japan, like China, was consistent 18th or 21st century.
Easy pickings even in Seoul.
Like finding opium in a Brit's luggage. No wonder the alliance.
The "Waegwan book" would make the prince trust the crime. He'd securely store the evidence.
As Joseon's first "manga" neared completion, a minor personnel order came in Little Regent's name—the king's proxy.
Author's Notes
1. The shogun then was Tokugawa Ieshige. Suspected cerebral palsy caused speech issues and incontinence, but he didn't die young. Coincidentally, King Gyeongjong reigned four years, hence Kim Unhaeng's trio reference.
2. Next mission: 1763, ten years post-story (shogun change 1760). Note: Chief envoy Jo Eom introduced sweet potatoes to Joseon first.
3. Ka-i Hentai by 17th-century scholar Hayashi Harukatsu. Summarizes Ming-Qing era China but aims to chart Japan's path in East Asian order amid Ming-Qing shift. Japan got duped then, sending gunpowder (seized from Ryukyu) to near-fallen Southern Ming.
4. Waegwan crimes recur later, but raw ginseng: Japan systematically smuggled via "ecology study" painters/scholars (detailed animal drawings survive). Post-leak (soon after story), no more imports from Joseon.