Chen Soyoung, Universal Human Rights Advocate and Pessimist: Modern Man's All-Purpose Theory -3: A Lawless Tribal Village in Africa's Poorest Country
There's nothing more to add here, and nothing to take away.
That's Soyang. My hometown.
Every time I look at this place, I sometimes get that feeling. Like a vast prison.
A space forcibly stretched out from suffocating confinement. It gives off a profoundly cosmic horror vibe.
Uncertainty about the future. Nothing but barren wasteland in sight. Oppression. Anxiety. The obsession that I must make it happen.
The Three Kingdoms engine sputters out of rhythm.
I've worked tirelessly, endlessly, relentlessly.
I haven't forgotten that resolve even now. Because I'm... a strong person.
"Let's start the meeting."
I dramatically unfurl the bamboo slips. Treating this as my village, I'll take the lead and pitch my ideas.
Documentation.
Even if someone hands you land on a platter, it doesn't really hit home.
Like betting your house deed in a gamble, property needs tangible proof.
I straighten my robes and speak up.
"We'll establish the foundations of law properly and encourage voluntary participation from the people."
Late Han Dynasty. People here don't even grasp the concept of intangible assets.
All land belongs to the state, and talking about copyrights or intellectual property? That'd be some next-level stuff.
We have to start by making the invisible asset called "land" visible.
The conventional wisdom is that the land's owner is the nation.
Fine. I can shatter that laughable notion completely.
Who in the world would turn down free land?
I launch into a passionate speech on the merits and strengths of documentation.
To sum it up in two sentences: "It's my land, so I'll manage it myself. I'll do the thinking, so just hand it over."
"Therefore, I ask Meng Geon and Shi Dao to survey the land and document it so that every resident can own their plot."
Shi Dao sighs as if the earth itself is crumbling.
"But this territory was granted by the Emperor himself. Only he can dispose of it. To arbitrarily divide it up like this—what will you do about the consequences?"
"The Emperor is under house arrest. I hate armchair theories. That old debate was nonsense too. This land is basically wasteland, isn't it? Isn't it amazing that people even live here? I doubt the Emperor would stoop to claiming this barren dirt. Do as you see fit. I'll take full responsibility."
Shi Dao and Meng Geon ponder for a long while, then nod.
"It's decided, right? I'm counting on you!"
I'm no Marxist, but I believe everyone in Soyang needs to escape poverty.
People only move when they have something minimum to protect.
"We'll create something from nothing. With these bamboo slips."
I wave the prototype land deed, Document No. 1.
It might seem trivial, but this is turning dirt into gold.
Historically, Shi Dao and Meng Geon are fine administrators. They may look like local uncles, but they've got the experience.
That's why I'm entrusting them.
"Zhao Yun, you need to spread the word so the people of Soyang know about this. Start rumors, visit in person—whatever works. There's a cave? Go in there, hash it out with them, and don't forget to say I sent you."
"If no one's giving us dirty looks, it should be fine."
Only the wooden seal stamped on these bamboo slips proves their authenticity. But people don't know what those stamps and characters mean. Literacy is the exclusive domain of the scholar-gentry.
If only people could read, Zhao Yun wouldn't have to go through all this trouble. In the end, manual labor is practically essential for my plan.
No one here can read.
Later, I'll use pictograms based on hieroglyphs for simple agreements with the Soyang folk, but that requires mutual trust as a foundation.
I won't force them to learn to read.
As Master Gongming said, commoners don't learn letters because it interferes with farming time.
If that's the reality of the late Han and these people's mindset, I'll adapt to it.
Since Zhao Yun hadn't left yet, I emphasized again.
"There might be situations where force is needed. Just deliver the message, and if trouble brews, get out of there."
Zhao Yun nods and dashes off.
"Ma Su and Jupyeong, you'll help me. We have to explain these land deeds to the people."
We need to hype it up. Make them feel like this is a real game-changer.
"Do we have to explain it ourselves, sis?"
"Let me ask you something. What do you think this bamboo slip is?"
"A deed proving ownership of land, with terms written on it."
I raise my voice like I'm about to drop some profound wisdom.
"This is the right to Soyang land that you couldn't buy for ten million gold. I set its value. I'm gonna hype one slip as worth a million seok of grain."
"Sis... I'm worried you're looking gaunt from overwork lately."
"I'm serious. Listen up. It has no value now, but there's no guarantee it won't become worth a million seok. People are getting fiefs. Know what that means?"
Jupyeong claps as understanding dawns.
"Selling offices on the side, huh? Smart kid."
"It's a status society. I'd focus on real estate value, but some will see it that way. I'll give these slips to everyone living on Soyang land, along with an official title: Soyang Citizen."
Like handing out business cards at a mid-sized company.
No real power or perks, just a fancy title like "President."
I want these wasteland dwellers to feel a sense of belonging.
It might seem pointless to some, but I've decided to respect the late Han rules.
In a class society, offering a new status is like nurturing souls.
Just as meeting Master Gongming chipped away at my prejudices about the world, I hope they find hope in this new identity.
That's why I came up with this. "It's just a nominal title, but I guarantee it. Honorary position, but people will love it, I believe."
Mutual trust comes first. If I need people to listen, I'll shape the environment to make it happen.
Our neighbors have cool culture. Rome—some awesome Western nation. Let's borrow their good stuff.
The title I devised: First-Class Soyang Citizen.
Born a Joseon girl at heart, time to show off some Joseon flavor.
We didn't just sell offices to yangban—we sold to commoners too. No money taken, land given, and a Soyang Citizen hat on top? Who'd say no?
I check if my happy circuits are overheating, then stand.
"Let's go. I'll demo it for you, then you follow suit. Eye contact with every single person."
I stride out the gate.
My first stop was already set in my heart.
The Wu family... one household in dire straits.
Of course, in a misery battle here, there's no limit or end, but they were once my next-door neighbors, and the people themselves are just pitiful...
"Sis, why the tears?"
"It's cold out."
I glance back at Choi Jupyeong, who whistles and looks away.
"Follow me."
Wu's wife ekes out days with her son's help, and I'd visit once a week to chat.
We're... complainers to each other, basically.
"Mom! You in?"
Bang bang bang.
I pound the gate three times hard. No response, naturally.
"Coming in?"
It's a crumbling wooden shack, wind whistling through the gaps like my old house.
A house once home to six now holds one woman, sitting under the eaves staring at the sky all day.
I don't know Wu's wife's thoughts, but I treat her as usual.
"Been so busy I haven't come by, Mom. Bet you haven't eaten properly. Didn't bring rice today—got something else."
I called Wu's wife "Mom." She loved that title.
She turns her skyward gaze toward me.
Her trembling voice is gloomy.
"Child. I thought you'd met with some great misfortune. But it wasn't true... People were right after all."
She sobs. Tears fall through her unkempt, tangled hair.
Like a maiden ghost, face veiled, shedding moisture.
Wu's wife lives staring blankly at the sky like a madwoman, but sane days come occasionally.
On those days, her sobs keep the neighbors awake, but no one blames her.
I watch the tears, thinking her mind has cleared a bit.
"How's your son? Brought two today. When I... make it big, I'll find your son too, Mom. Can't do much now but talk, but look—I succeeded. So... can't right away, but I'll start with what I can. That's my plan."
I hold out my palm to Choi Jupyeong. He silently places the bamboo slip in it.
I don't read the text. I ad-lib.
"To Soyang resident Wu household: An official post is hereby granted. This land is bestowed upon you. Furthermore, as a representative of Soyang, your great merit warrants First-Class Soyang Citizen status, hereditary."
I say it with utmost solemnity, then roll up the bamboo slip and hand it to her.
"What's this?"
"Your official post, Mom."
"Why?"
"Want you on my side."
"Okay."
She takes the slip and clutches it tightly to her chest.
"Your son? Doing okay?"
"Yes."
"Tell him to stop by our house plot before sunset. I'm gone after dark."
"Got it."
Our business was done.
We nod farewell, and I leave quietly.
A glance back: She's hugging the slip, staring at the sky again.
That's it. Really... nothing special. Just explain the slip and hand it over—done.
"Sis. Is this necessary?"
Before I can answer Ma Su, Choi Jupyeong cuts in.
"It is. I can see it plain. To set the foundation right, we need this. See, we got no enforcement. Get it?"
Ma Su ponders like an old soul, sighs "Hoo...", and continues.
"No army. Zhao Yun's private troops can't control the masses."
"Exactly. Laws are made by people, need coercion, and consensus. That's why I hate laws. Makers skip consensus, so corruption's inevitable."
Choi Jupyeong looks at me and goes on.
"Still, this ain't bad. An official begging and whining to the people—only one in the world? Hilarious, right?"
Then he bursts out laughing, "Wahaha!"