Chapter 95
Chapter 95
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: 95. Desires of Busanpo (3)
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Jeong Seon picked out one of the dozens of paintings and offered a dignified critique.
Well, he was at least trying his best to be dignified.
"It's well-drawn, but the woman's body up here...? It's too large, and her legs...? They're too short. How could someone of your caliber make such a mistake?"
Byeon Sangbyeok, kneeling with far more propriety than the painting itself, mumbled in response.
"Th-that was an imitation of a Western painting that Hong Jinsa gave me as reference."
To conceal the historical books he was presenting to the Northern Studies faction heir, Kim Unhaeng had prepared a few "genuine" imported Chinese items. The painting Byeon mentioned was one of them.
"Western? From Beijing?"
"Yes. Their painters depict nearby things large and distant things small, converging multiple viewpoints into one so it feels like you're seeing it right in front of you."
Though Joseon painters lacked a theoretical framework like perspective and vanishing points, they could grasp the concept if explained.
Jeong Seon wasn't sure whether to marvel at this exotic technique or scold them for going to such absurd lengths over erotic art.
"What's with dividing it into these panels? And what's that drawn next to the people? Clouds?"
"I'm not entirely sure, but Hong Jinsa said reading along the panels makes it like a storybook. That's not a cloud—it's for writing down what the characters say."
"Huh, so it's like a speech bubble. And this is a cat....... No, a person? What on earth is this? I know you like cats, but this bizarre......"
"Th-that's from a story with monsters and ghosts. Hong Jinsa especially emphasized that scene....... Honestly, I don't see the appeal either. It's true."
Though he strained to sound like a proper art critic, both men eventually hit their limits.
Byeon Sangbyeok hurriedly extended his hand, claiming the paint hadn't dried yet. Jeong Seon, stunned by content that far exceeded ethical boundaries, let it be snatched away limply.
"Ahem. I've seen my share of erotic paintings, but nothing this shameless in all my years. Aren't you ashamed as a painter in national service?"
"I have no face to show. My family fortunes have declined lately, so......"
"Who is this Hong Jinsa fellow's father?"
"Someone commissioning such paintings wouldn't reveal their parents. But a Hong clansman from Cheonan, reasonably well-off, living in Seoul now? Points to one person. Likely Hong Deokbo (Hong Daeyong), current Junior Secretary in the Ministry of Treasury."
It was fortunate Hong Daeyong, swamped with duties at the Pyeongsun Post due to the thawed rivers reactivating ferries, remained unaware. If he knew, he might've jumped straight into the Han River mid-work.
Jeong Seon stroked his beard with a troubled expression.
"I've heard the name. Isn't he the one who studied at Dog-Beating Stick Kim Chunsik's Gangnam Daeseong and passed the civil service exam? What do they even teach there?"
"Even Dog-Beating Stick himself is infamous for beating people with sticks and shooting tigers with arrows—hardly scholar material. Birds of a feather."
"Hmm. Still, Kim Chunsik was said to be the finest disciple of my master's lineage, under Duke Mun-gang (Kim Changheup, brother of Duke Chungheon Kim Changjip). To think he'd befriend such a man......"
Kim Changheup hadn't taught Jeong Seon painting.
Jeong Seon had initially aimed for the literary exam himself. He just hadn't succeeded.
And it was Kim Changheup's elder brother, Duke Chungheon Kim Changjip, who had gotten him his first job.
The friendship between these two Noron reformist families had somehow endured even after both were shattered by the Literary Purge (or perhaps because of it). That's how Jeong Seon knew Kim Unhaeng.
Byeon Sangbyeok chimed in.
"It's probably him. The messenger bringing the letter was a servant from Lord Hyehyeoja's (Kim Yonggyeom) house. You know, the famously nine-foot giant in the capital. He'd be found out instantly sending his own servant, so he must've asked a favor."
Jeong Seon clicked his tongue. Ignoring Byeon's firm gestures of restraint, he pulled out another painting.
His brows furrowed, lips pursed in complaint, and with each page turned, he lamented moral decay.
Yet despite his disgust, Jeong Seon seemed determined to examine each one closely and critique it sternly. This was the resolve of justice confronting evil head-on.
Eventually, the paintings ran out. Jeong Seon glanced around wistfully, then hurriedly changed tack upon catching Byeon's gaze.
"Burn all these filthy things. What shocking nonsense in the capital with the King right here?"
"Pardon? That's absurd!"
Jeong Seon smiled gently.
"I understand. It'd be hard for you to burn your own creations. I'll do it—hand them over."
It sounded righteous, if suspicious.
In Joseon society, it was hard to dismiss meddling in someone's side hustle, leaving Byeon flustered and helpless.
But heaven hadn't abandoned Byeon Sangbyeok.
Just then, Eoji arrived with a message from Kim Unhaeng.
Eoji's imposing presence was enough to make even a famed painter like Jeong Seon reconsider his stubbornness.
If Hong Daeyong was truly close to Kim Unhaeng, he might've sent this man to teach the would-be destroyer of valuables a lesson.
Noticing Jeong Seon flinch, Byeon swiftly gathered the paintings and handed them to Eoji.
The letter Eoji brought listed specific completed paintings requested, along with payment details.
After poring over it, Jeong Seon twitched an eyebrow.
"What erotic art pays this much?"
Gyeomjae Jeong Seon, at the peak of his career, wasn't short on money.
Until then, Joseon art was compensated vaguely, like a meal voucher. By the 18th century, it began trading properly in markets.
Records suggest painters even gathered periodically for commissions.
Gyeomjae's works fetched at least 300 nyang each—even ordinary ones—enough for a small house in the capital. He couldn't be poor.
Yet he spent as much as he earned.
His hobby was traveling to paint landscapes, a luxury for the wealthy in this era, not casual like today.
Nearly a decade of such wandering had strained even a celebrity like Jeong Seon.
So he'd come to Byeon seeking an introduction to a good client.
He'd simply forgotten amid the shocking scenes—until this letter reminded him.
Byeon quickly hid the letter.
"This is embarrassing. When payment arrives, I'll buy you a big drink."
Jeong Seon coaxed him.
"Forget that—introduce me. I won't breathe a word of this."
"Pardon?"
"Hey now. Not that debauched Hong Junior Secretary—or Jinsa. I have ties to the Jangdong Kim clan. Yet I've never visited Kim Chunsik. Time to strengthen old bonds. He's their servant, right?"
Byeon eyed his senior with foreboding.
And that evening, Kim Unhaeng had to receive an uninvited guest with Eoji.
I hadn't activated Guan Yu's patience, but I slapped an iron plate on my face with Guan Yu-like resolve.
"If Gyeomjae, with his deep ties to our house, requests an introduction, I should oblige. But my brother-in-law goes to such lengths hiding his name and using proxies for 'that sort of thing' for good reason. I must decline."
Sorry, brother-in-law.
But Joseon folk won't curse you as a pervert to your face.
They'll whisper behind your back. Forever.
Surprisingly, Gyeomjae Jeong Seon (master of landscapes) offered to paint backgrounds for my commercial doujinshi.
Is this guy short on cash lately? He's beyond that level. Or does he want to see commercial stuff? Nah, at his age?
Jeong Seon's eloquence matched his brushwork.
"Heh heh. Forcing everyone to hide or suppress daily affairs disrupts heaven and earth's harmony. I can't lend my name, but I'd love to participate once. Hong Junior Secretary is family to you—practically to me too. Please convey my secret wish to your brother-in-law."
He must think I'm Hong Daeyong's manager.
Forgot Eoji was visible.
No escaping now.
Better drag Jeong Seon in too, so he can't back out.
As a celebrity even in this era, I'd heard Jeong Seon loved landscape tours.
I made an offer to pique his interest.
"Then how about a Busanpo tour with me?"
"Busan?"
I briefly explained my appointment as Deputy Commissioner for Japanese Affairs.
"—So I needed someone to paint the Japanese quarters, but as a renowned capital figure, I hesitated to ask. Since it's come to this, resuming national service isn't bad. Success brings royal favor; even if not, showing your fresh, exquisite works might sway my brother-in-law."
Of course, I'd cover travel and painting fees. Cheap for secrecy. Jeong Seon got it.
This era's master pondered before me, then nodded solemnly.
"I thought my wandering days ended with age, but fate decrees otherwise. After Duke Chungheon's great grace, now the Jangdong Kims again."
"No need for such words. It's only natural."
We clasped hands firmly.
Unlike the incognito inspector tour, this was official, so Hwang Domyeong from the Censorate clerks and other aides joined.
Travel expenses? Dream on. None again.
I practiced military prestige.
Aside from my Left Blue Dragon and Right White Tiger Eoji and Jangbok, plus contractor Jeong Seon, I only looked after Hwang Domyeong, key earner for Dog-Beating Stick faction via Censorate's Geumran Office.
The rest covered their own fares.
In Joseon, this was standard—no one blamed me, just their misfortune attaching to the deputy commissioner.
But for my last pick, I quietly extended favor.
Japanese interpreter Park Sangsoon.
I didn't need a "translator" per se.
Learned during my first foreigner encounter—suppressing Japanese pirates in Hwanghae—my passive Language Synchronization wasn't limited to Joseon speech.
Face-to-face, I could speak their native tongue fluently.
Initially, it activated after watching initiation rites up close.
But pretending knowledge then would've invited "Where'd you learn Chinese?"—no dodging that.
Same now.
Chinese? Excuse of studying ancient phonetics. But a scholar suddenly fluent in Japanese? Spy suspicions at best.
In the 21st century, no civil exam needed; in 18th-century Joseon, awkwardly useless.
But while translators weren't essential, interpreters were.
Interpreters handled more than translation.
Unlike rotating scholar-officials, interpreters served long-term like clerks. Few in number, so Tsushima lords and Japanese quarter heads (usually kin) grew familiar with the same faces. Rapport inevitable.
Built on that, they managed all trade and diplomacy practicalities.
A strength even moderns ignore at peril. Like news: "New minister famed as 'US expert'..."
I capitalized on it.
Told Sim Hwanji to have new Rites Minister Hong Bonghan cede Noryangjin Tobacco Monopoly (prime spot), granting this deputy commissioner free pick of personnel.
Thus, I met Park Sangsoon unburdened.
But he lacked enthusiasm.
Park Sangsoon's eyes were pitch-black, unfocused—like a dead fish.
He refused my scout.
"My talents are meager; I can't make the Japanese accept the gifts as-is."
Right—the trip's official goal: shut Japanese up without extra ginseng.
But mine differed.
And I knew why he balked.
"This is national business. Succeed, and Kim Chiryang's disgrace won't repeat."
My direct hit lit a spark in Park's frog eyes.
Rage.
Calm. A commoner won't strike a yangban me, right?
Park Sangsoon's arch-nemesis Kim Chiryang? Former provincial military secretary. Noron elite Cheongpung Kim clan—entered via purchase.
Nothing special alone, but he was Joseon's ultimate lecher. Worse than Prince Yeonsan, in my view.
For instance, normals like me extort cash from clerks; he extorted women.
Clerks surrendering sisters and daughters? Too many to count on hands. Not even taking them home—daylight rape in offices.
His hardcore sexual libertinism gave me era-identity whiplash.
Even elite son scandals hushed, no punishment talk—like 21st century. No need for modernization. Already there.
Then he eyed Park Sangsoon's stunning concubine.
Park wasn't his underling. So Kim used violence over power.
Faking a Justice Ministry order, this sixth-rank secretary raided Park's home with a dozen thugs, smashing and seizing her.
Mid-capital. Gang warfare in Seoul.
In Joseon, raping women meant death (if victim equal/higher status).
But Soron response botched it.
They seized chance to purge Kim Chiryang's father Kim Chwiro and Noron faction via uproarious memorials: "Capital rife with treason," "Unprecedented crime."
Right words, wrong king.
Yeongjo, unable to abandon throne-makers Noron, nitpicked the accuser Saganwon Lee Wi-bo for factionalism, first exiling him.
Then excuses: concubine ex-courtesan so no rape; Cheongpung Kims' state merits; demoted Kim Chiryang to exile.
King ruled—what could a mere interpreter do?
So NTR'd and unavenged, Park Sangsoon resented all Noron. Understandable wariness of my offer.
But I'm Noron too—yet opposed to Ro faction.
I'm aligned with Hong Bonghan's Noron North (Crown Prince faction).
Ro clan, led by Kim Sangro, mostly Noron South (anti-hardliner Noron).
Southerners I control; Soron Noron handles. But Ro clan holding Noron leadership? True foe for nascent Dog-Beating Stick Kim Unhaeng faction.
Other Noron factions are Chun-sik's biggest rivals.
Can't say it outright yet.
So I played ambitious young politico burning for next-gen Noron control—not treason.
"Strictly, Cheongpung Kims aren't even descendants of the Four Loyal Ministers. For loyalty, our house must step up unashamed before ancestors. My dream: right national principles. You are essential."
After prolonged persuasion, Park finally spoke.
"Seeing you recalls Interpreter Kim Geunhaeng, who served three kings from King Injo."
Huh? Ro clan? Our house had interpreters?
"Interpreter family, yet reached Junior First Rank, Deputy Commander of Capital Garrison. He taught juniors: serving high officials as duty is fine, but shun doomed houses."
"Oh? How spot a doomed house?"
After silence, Park recited like scripture.
"Houses with carts and horses clamoring out front; gathering thugs to scheme gains; consulting fortune-tellers for ventures; faking words and deeds like scholars; morning words belying daytime actions; plotting in dark alleys; needing top seats always—these invariably fall."
All opposite me.
Petty houses deserve ruin.
Fortune-tellers snag a bit—Eoji's shaman wife known, but my link secret.
Park eyed me with eerie calm.
"I thought you fit all. Still do."
This punk wants exile? I axed Deputy Minister Jo Jaeho. One report, and you're......
"Yet even for power, you're first promising justice for Kim Chiryang. No one cared about interpreters' grievances. Even if doomed, I'll trust once."
I erased brewing retorts.
Goal met. No need explaining; prolonged exposure, like orchid scent soaking in, reveals my virtue.
I just patted his shoulder.
"I'll keep today's words, years hence. No breaking faith."
"Six years' swallowed rage—can't wait more? I'll serve wholeheartedly."
Japanese quarters raid party complete.
Felt like exam day.
Premonition of success.
Thus, the Deputy Commissioner for Japanese Affairs retinue, each harboring desires, reached Busanpo a fortnight after Kim Unhaeng met Park Sangsoon.
Kim Unhaeng saw no need to flout precedent with excessive frugality.
To cow the Japanese, flaunt royal inspectorate splendor. State business—local officials foot extras.
His procession drew even roadside folk pausing work to gawk.
"His Majesty sent a high official!"
Dongnae folk—and lurking Japanese spies—feared Joseon king's reach to this far shore.
Ignoring most cared more for perks than royal will, it convincingly showed the Joseon King minded Dongnae's events.
Author's Note
1. Prince Sohyeon is credited with first introducing Western painting to Joseon. More by this era isn't odd. And from the 18th century, art trading boomed commercially; later Kim Hongdo was swamped with commissions, sleepless.
2. Kim Chiryang and Park Sangsoon's incident is real, from Yeongjo 24th year. Kim Geunhaeng's junior lessons historical fact.
Kim Geunhaeng excelled in trade/diplomacy, even bought northern expedition arms from Tsushima for Hyeojong. Father served Seonjo, he Injo—both merits and high posts. Gimhae Kim, not Andong—not Ro clan.