Black Corporation: Joseon [EN]: Chapter 146

Jjangra

Hello, Night.

146. That Autumn (1)

Sejong 11 (1429, Gi-yu Year)

Later historians would say, ‘This year was a time of shock and horror for the Joseon [Joseon Dynasty (1392-1897) was a Korean dynastic kingdom] literati, especially the local yangban [ruling class or nobles during the Joseon Dynasty].’ Enough events occurred to warrant such a description.

As spring arrived, the civil service examination was postponed to June. Unlike the delayed examination, the court openly drew talented individuals who had remained in private life into the government.

By filling the middle and upper echelons of the court with individuals chosen from private life, assessed to possess insight and ability, the court gained more control over lower-level officials.

However, what truly shocked and horrified the local yangban were the bills that followed.

Starting with the Interest Restriction Act and continuing with the Tenant Farming Act, these bills were set to devastate the economic foundations of the yangban.

“We cannot simply overlook this!”

“Indeed! Absolutely!”

“Scholar An writes well; let Scholar An draft a memorial! We will sign it jointly!”

“Agreed!”

Among the local yangban, those renowned for their writing took the lead in drafting memorials and submitting them to the local magistrate.

* * *

“I think you are making a mistake…”

Han Min-cheol, the magistrate of Goyang, cautiously advised as he received the memorials from the yangban. However, the yangban’s reaction was fierce.

“Hmph! His Majesty is the one making a mistake!”

“Indeed! There’s a limit to how much one can disregard people!”

“Magistrate, you simply need to accept our memorial!”

Han Min-cheol suppressed his anger at the yangban’s harsh and arrogant response and accepted the memorials.

“Understood. You are responsible for the consequences.”

“Heh heh! Don’t worry!”

Having left the magistrate’s office, the yangban gathered at the house of Elder Nam, raising their voices.

“The magistrate is too arrogant! ‘You are responsible for the consequences?’ Where does he get off threatening us!”

“We must demand the abolition of the law prohibiting commoners from suing! Because they can’t be sued, they’re emboldened to act so arrogantly!”

While most of those gathered loudly denounced the magistrate, some were concerned about the future.

“However, what we are doing now is certainly displeasing His Majesty.”

When a young scholar couldn’t hide his concern, a middle-aged scholar sneered.

“So, should we go back and retrieve the memorial? Saying it wasn’t me who wrote it, but the puppy I keep at home?”

The young scholar’s face turned red at the middle-aged scholar’s mockery. The middle-aged scholar was comparing him to a puppy. The young scholar protested with a flushed face.

“That’s not what I meant…”

However, the young scholar’s protest was cut off by Scholar Nam, who was seated at the head of the table.

“We are not the only ones writing memorials, so do not worry. Such concerns are merely *giwoo* [杞憂, groundless fears].”

“…Yes. I apologize.”

Scholar Nam, having silenced the young scholar, turned to the assembly and continued.

“We are not the only ones writing memorials. Already, the literati of Honam and Yeongnam are also writing memorials. Some are writing individually like us, and others are writing jointly.”

“Ooh!”

“That’s right!”

As Scholar Nam explained the situation, the assembled literati all cheered. When the commotion in the room subsided, Scholar Nam instructed the scholars.

“Now is the time to act boldly. Worrying about the future is merely *giwoo* [杞憂, groundless fears] and the behavior of petty men. Ahem!”

The last remark was directed at the scholar who had mentioned ‘displeasing His Majesty.’ The young scholar, feeling humiliated by the rebuke, lowered his head with a reddened face.

* * *

“Hoo~. Foolish ones…”

Han Min-cheol sighed as he looked at the pile of memorials stacked before him.

“Even if you write so much and send it up, would His Majesty even bat an eye? It’s fortunate if it’s not just used as firewood for the Gyeongbokgung [main royal palace of the Joseon dynasty] palace furnace. Tsk!”

Tsking and grumbling about the scholars’ behavior, Han Min-cheol called out.

“Is anyone outside!”

“Yes, sir!”

When the government clerk who had been waiting outside entered, Han Min-cheol pointed to the mountain of memorials.

“Record the senders of those memorials and send them to Hanyang [old name for Seoul, the capital of Korea].”

“Yes, sir.”

At Han Min-cheol’s command, the clerk embraced the pile of memorials and went outside.

Han Min-cheol, who had been about to pick up his gold pen to process the memorial issue and write a report, suddenly chuckled.

“It would be interesting if His Majesty didn’t issue a decree and sent down a reply. If things go well, will I get to see them all die of *hwabyeong* [화병, anger-related illness, a Korean culture-bound syndrome] ?”

Han Min-cheol had been working in the Ministry of Personnel in Hanyang until recently.

A few years ago, the terms of local officials were shortened through a collective demonstration by the councilors and ministers, and the rotation of central and local officials was decided.

Han Min-cheol was one of the first to be selected and sent down as the magistrate of Goyang.

Han Min-cheol, who had worked as an *eunggyo* [fourth-rank official in the Joseon Dynasty] in the Ministry of Personnel, had many opportunities to witness the *gyeongyeon* [royal lectures] held by Sejong and his ministers.

And Han Min-cheol had seen Sejong, or rather, the prince, crush the ministers with their arguments several times during those *gyeongyeon* [royal lectures].

“They don’t know how much it drives people crazy to logically and gently scratch at their insides, instead of just bullying them. They’re determined to die.”

Han Min-cheol, recalling the *moseup* [appearance] of the ministers who had vehemently supported reducing the time and number of *gyeongyeon* [royal lectures] after being utterly defeated by Sejong, hurriedly shook his head.

“Oops! Forget it, forget it! I’ll have nightmares tonight if I don’t!”

Han Min-cheol, who had come down as the magistrate of Goyang, absolutely did not want to lose his comfortable sleep time.

* * *

“Heh heh…. This is really…”

As Han Min-cheol had predicted, Sejong was dumbfounded and laughed as he looked at the mountain of memorials.

“I expected it, but how can they not escape this…”

In response to Sejong’s words, Chief State Councilor Yi Jik spoke.

“It is because there are so many vested interests involved.”

“Knowing how to let go of what is in one’s hand is also the duty of learned people…. Tsk!”

Tsking, Sejong unfolded a scroll and began to read its contents.

After reading a few memorials, Sejong threw the memorial down nervously.

“These damn things! Except for the handwriting, they’re almost all the same! There’s no creativity! No creativity!”

The memorials all started with ‘So-and-so living in such-and-such place respectfully submits’ and continued with the main text of ‘The policies enacted by His Majesty are acts that harm tradition and abandon the *wangdo* [王道, the way of the king, or benevolent rule]…’ Since the quotations they cited were also mostly similar, Sejong criticized them for ‘no creativity!’

“Take a look.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The ministers, who had received the memorials through the *sangsundo* [eunuch], also snickered and showed cynical reactions. Kim Jeom, who had examined the memorials, reported to Sejong.

“Looking at these writings, I think I know how outstanding the individuals who were specially selected last time were.”

“That is correct.”

As the ministers agreed with Kim Jeom’s words, Sejong sighed.

“Hoo~. Even if they passed the *sogwa* [minor civil service examination] and said they wanted to study more, I generously gave them 30 years of tax exemption, but this is all they can do…”

‘Dangerous! If I’m not careful, I’ll have to listen to another sermon!’

Meng Sa-seong, sensing the danger in Sejong’s dissatisfaction, quickly interjected.

“Therefore, we must promulgate the prepared laws as soon as possible.”

“That is correct!”

“Please promulgate them quickly!”

The ministers, who similarly sensed the danger, chanted in unison as soon as Meng Sa-seong finished speaking.

Sejong, having finished his *jeongmu* [state affairs] with the ministers in the *pyeonjeon* [council hall], sighed as he stood before the memorials.

“Hoo~.”

Looking at the pile of memorials that made him feel suffocated just by looking at them, Sejong ordered the *sangsundo* [eunuch].

“Go and summon the Crown Prince.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

* * *

“Did you call for me, Father?”

“Yes. I called you because I need the Crown Prince’s help.”

“What is it?”

At Hyang’s question, Sejong pointed to the memorials. Hyang looked at Sejong, seeing the pile of memorials stacked high.

“What kind of memorials are these?”

“These are memorials sent by those who are dissatisfied with the Interest Restriction Act and the Tenant Farming Act.”

“What is it that I must do?”

At Hyang’s question, Sejong answered simply.

“Write a reply to the memorials.”

“Yes?”

Hyang’s eyes widened in surprise for the first time in a while.

Sejong explained in more detail.

“There are many memorials, but they are not worth reading. However, it is my duty to give a reply to the memorials that have been submitted.”

“If you entrust such an important task to me, wouldn’t the Office of the Inspector General have something to say?”

“It’s something that only you and I need to know, isn’t it? No. If you take charge, the Office of the Inspector General and the Office of Censors will not say anything. No, they won’t be able to.”

“Will they? The stubbornness of the censors is…”

As Hyang continued to mention the censors, Sejong replied with an expression that it was nothing.

“Spending a month doing *gyeongyeon* [royal lectures] with you morning and evening, or shutting their mouths and saying nothing. If they have to choose between the two, the censors will shut up and close their mouths. Is it only once or twice that they’ve been defeated by you?”

“However…”

As Hyang continued to try to escape, Sejong’s expression turned fierce.

“Choose.”

“Yes?”

“Whether you will rule as regent until I write all the replies to the submitted memorials, or whether you will organize records in the Archives.”

As soon as Sejong’s words fell, Hyang quickly approached Sejong and asked.

“Which one should I do?”

Sejong, with a look of dismay at Hyang’s quick change of attitude, silently pointed to a pile of memorials stacked on one side.

“Oh my…”

Hyang had an expression of disbelief as he read the memorials.

‘I see why Father called me.’

As Sejong had assessed during the day, the handwriting was diverse and the composition of the sentences was diverse, but the content was almost the same.

‘It’s not like Ctrl+c, Ctrl+v…. Is the difference the *gagun* [각운, end rhyme]? There’s no creativity! No creativity!’

‘There’s no creativity!’ Hyang and Sejong criticized, but this was unavoidable.

Creating sentences in Chinese characters required strict adherence to rules. Among these rules, the most basic and most important was *un* [운, rhyme]. Regardless of whether it was poetry or prose, it was called *myeongmun* [great writing] only if this *un* [운, rhyme] was well observed.

In order to write sentences while observing this *un* [운, rhyme], *unmok* [운목, a list of Chinese characters grouped and arranged as permissible rhymes] was an essential item not only for Chinese writers but also for Joseon writers.

Not only the issue of *un* [운, rhyme], but also the quotations cited were mostly the same.

‘This is really…. It’s a hassle to write answers one by one. If it were the 21st century, there would be an auto-complete function…’

“Ah!”

With a sudden idea, Hyang began to divide the memorials he had read into several groups.

“Crown Prince, what are you doing?”

Sejong, unable to overcome his curiosity at Hyang’s actions, asked a question.

Hyang continued to classify the memorials and answered.

“After reading the memorials, there were several memorials written on roughly similar topics. So, I am gathering them together.”

“What are you going to do with that?”

“I will create answers according to the divided types and then print them.”

“Huh?”

At Hyang’s answer, Sejong moved to Hyang’s side. Sejong, sitting next to Hyang, examined it in detail.

Sejong, who carefully examined the memorials classified by Hyang, nodded his head.

“Indeed, that is so. There are many sentences, but the meaning contained within is one, so I don’t have to write the answers one by one.”

Sejong, nodding his head and evaluating it favorably, sighed softly.

“Hoo~. The problem is sincerity. They will say that I gave an insincere answer to the memorial submitted by the people.”

“If we are to discuss sincerity, have they ever shown sincerity to Father? If they passed the *gwageo* [civil service examination], it is their duty to serve in the government. However, they only sucked up the sweet water under the pretext of *suhak* [studying], so isn’t that insincere?”

“That’s true.”

In the end, most of those who submitted memorials had to receive *bidap* [royal replies] printed in *hwalja* [movable type].

“This is such impudence!”

“Even if he is the king, it is not right for him to treat us like this!”

Many people shouted angrily, but those who examined the contents had somber faces.

‘Although it is printed, the content is clear!’

‘We have been pushed back in terms of *myeongbun* [justification]!’

In the meantime, there were a few scholars, though very few, who received *bidap* [royal replies] written in Sejong’s own handwriting. And those few scholars soon received an *eomyeong* [royal order] to come to Gyeongbokgung Palace.