Black Corporation: Joseon [EN]: Chapter 813

813. A Star Falls (7)

A problem arose as the envoys’ stay in Seoul extended longer than anticipated.

It was a matter of accommodation expenses.

The Empire maintained a state guest house for visiting envoys.

While the envoys personally funded banquets and diplomatic gatherings at courtesan houses, the Empire’s budget covered all expenses for the state guest house.

As it represented the Empire’s image to foreign envoys, the ingredients, tableware, bedding, and furniture were all of the highest quality.

Moreover, all the receptionists at the state guest house were highly trained experts with official ranks.

Consequently, the state guest house’s budget was substantial, yet it barely avoided a deficit each year during the year-end settlement.

This was due to the considerable number of envoys visiting the Empire for various reasons.

Every year, upon receiving the state guest house’s balance sheet at the year-end settlement, officials from the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs sighed and muttered.

“It’s fortunate that we don’t receive tribute…”

If they had engaged in tributary diplomacy like the Ming Dynasty [a historical Chinese dynasty] in the past, the expenses would have been several times greater.

However, the envoys visiting due to Sejong’s critical condition broke all previous records.

The number of countries and personnel visiting the Empire reached an all-time high, and their duration of stay was also the longest ever.

As a result, the state guest house’s annual budget was exhausted in less than three months, prompting the Emperor to order the Ministry of Finance to allocate an emergency budget.

“It’s fortunate that the personnel accompanying the tribal chiefs of Shinji are using the management-only accommodations.”

Kim Jong-seo shook his head at Hwangbo-in’s complaint upon receiving Wan’s order.

“That side has also nearly exhausted its budget. A report full of complaints will be submitted soon.”

“Haa~.”

Hwangbo-in sighed deeply and clicked his tongue.

“Tsk. We need to prepare for that situation in advance.”

Kim Jong-seo responded to Hwangbo-in’s words with a dissatisfied expression.

“Whether it’s this group or that group, they’re more interested in the ceremonial food than the ancestral rites…”

* * *

About a month after Hyang urgently returned to the mainland, the tribal chiefs of Shinji also arrived in large numbers.

Most of them had formed relationships with Sejong during the expansion of Shinji.

-Those who have not enjoyed Shinji Gyeok-bang [a type of military exercise or game] with the Emperor Emeritus should not call themselves chiefs anywhere.

The chiefs who had such a deep connection with Sejong that such sayings circulated packed all sorts of medicinal herbs and amulets as soon as they heard the news of Sejong’s critical condition and boarded ships returning to the mainland.

It wasn’t just the chiefs. Aspiring chiefs, shamans, and even indigenous officials likely to rise to high positions in Shinji boarded the ships one after another, heading to the mainland.

Everyone except the chiefs had their own agendas.

The next chief candidates aimed to gain recognition from the Emperor of the mainland and establish relationships with powerful mainland high-ranking officials, while the shamans aimed to acquire the latest medical knowledge, even if only a little.

The indigenous officials aimed to learn how to manage the increasingly expanding Shinji smoothly and efficiently, and at the same time, to make their presence known to the mainland high-ranking officials.

It was to highlight their enthusiasm and abilities and to increase their chances of rising to high-ranking positions in Shinji, even if only slightly.

Kim Jong-seo grumbled as he watched the envoys desperately trying to glean the Empire’s secrets, including the Challenge Log, and the Shinji natives busily maneuvering for their own advancement.

* * *

Amidst the swarms of people busily pursuing their own interests, Sejong’s death was announced.

The news was immediately transmitted to the mainland and Bukji, which were connected by land, using the optical communication network. It took one to five days for the news to reach areas that required crossing the sea, such as Jeju Island and Daeseol Island.

Government offices and military units that received the obituary immediately posted proclamations announcing Sejong’s death on bulletin boards and changed their attire.

All officials working in government offices wore white official robes and hats, a black belt without patterns, and black leather shoes without patterns.

The Imperial Army wore formal uniforms instead of combat uniforms and wore armbands made of hemp with the words ‘In Mourning (忌中)’ [a period of mourning in East Asian cultures] engraved on their left arms.

It wasn’t just a change of clothes.

The Imperial Army, which was confronting the Mongols or Oirats [historical nomadic groups] in the north, immediately sent envoys.

-We hope that no conflicts will be initiated for the next fifteen days.

The document carried by the envoy contained much longer sentences, but to summarize, it conveyed the above message.

Some of the tribal chiefs of Mongolia or Oirat who received the document provoked the Imperial Army envoy.

“What if we refuse this offer? Might this be a good opportunity for us instead?”

The Imperial Army envoy who was provoked didn’t even blink and immediately replied.

“Try it if you want to face the Imperial Army giving their all.”

“… I understand. We also value honoring the deceased. We will accept the Imperial Army’s proposal.”

The tribal chiefs who had provoked the envoy had no choice but to back down immediately.

* * *

The people who heard of Sejong’s death immediately flocked to Gyeongbokgung Palace.

The people who gathered in front of Gyeongbokgung Palace all sat down on the ground and began to wail.

“Oh, Your Majesty~.”

“Oh~ Oh~”

The people wailing in front of Gyeongbokgung Palace were not only those residing in Seoul.

Initially, residents from areas close to Seoul arrived, and after a while, people from Hasamdo and Bukji came by iron horse [likely referring to trains or advanced transportation] and gathered in front of Gyeongbokgung Palace to wail.

People who couldn’t afford to come to Seoul wore mourning clothes made of rough hemp and sat in front of the county office to wail.

This wasn’t simply following etiquette. There were no norms in the etiquette that dictated this behavior when a king died.

It was the sincerity of the people who loved and respected Sejong that led them to do so.

Wan conveyed this news to Hyang, who was guarding Sejong’s mortuary. Hyang looked at the place where Sejong was lying and gave a sad smile.

“Did you endure until autumn in case this would happen? Were you worried that the people would overexert themselves in the summer heat?”

* * *

The people’s reaction didn’t end with wailing.

Among those who had retired from performing official duties as soldiers and officials, some began to take their own lives.

-I served the Emperor Emeritus in life, so I will serve him in death.

The number of those who wrote such brief wills and died as martyrs soon began to increase.

There were three main reasons for the increase in the number of martyrs: loyalty to Sejong, a matter of pride, and the honor of oneself and one’s family.

-A guy who was lower in rank than me and couldn’t even do his job was praised for dying as a martyr? I can’t let this happen!

In the end, as ‘loyalty’ became a pretext and the number of martyrs due to personal desires increased, Wan had to urgently post a proclamation.

-Your loyalty is extremely beautiful, but martyrdom is a regrettable thing. Therefore, it is forbidden.

This is the Emperor’s order.

The number of martyrs decreased with Wan’s imperial order, but they still continued to appear.

In response, Hyang stepped forward and posted a proclamation in Sang’s name.

-The loyalty to serve the Emperor Emeritus even in death is truly a beautiful thing.

However, it is truly regrettable to end one’s remaining life.

If you have experienced the Emperor Emeritus, including myself, there will be no one who doesn’t know the Emperor Emeritus’s character.

Do you think that the Emperor Emeritus will look favorably on those who follow him by taking their own lives?

Are you going to create something that the Emperor Emeritus will click his tongue at even in death!

If that is your loyalty, then rather serve as a commoner (白衣從事) [Baekui Jongsa, refers to serving without an official position]!

Do not expect anything in return and pass on your experiences to future generations!

Using your experiences as fertilizer, future generations will create an even bigger and more beautiful empire!

This is the proper way to express your loyalty to the Emperor Emeritus!

The former officials who read Hyang’s proclamation, especially those who worked in the central government, nodded their heads.

“If it were the Emperor Emeritus, he could do that. No, he is the kind of person who would do that and still have something left over.”

“That tongue-clicking sound… Ugh! I still get goosebumps all over my body…”

In the end, with Hyang’s proclamation posted, no more martyrdoms were reported.

Instead, people began to register their names in the ‘Advisory Council (諮問會)’ [a newly established council for advising the government] newly established by Hyang through Wan.

* * *

On the last day of the fifteen-day funeral period.

The bier carrying Sejong’s remains left Suganggung Palace and headed to Dongjaegi.

Dongjaegi, which was called Dongjak-dong – Sadang-dong in the 21st century Hyang lived in – was the location of the Imperial National Cemetery (顯忠院) [Hyeonchungwon, a national cemetery in South Korea].

They created a huge cemetery on a site with a mountain in the back and a river in the front, with Gongjakbong Peak on the slopes of Gwanaksan Mountain as the main peak, surrounded by ridges on three sides and the Han River flowing in front, where those who died fighting for the Empire or died working as officials of the Empire, and emperors and empresses would be buried.

* * *

When Hyang first presented the agenda regarding the National Cemetery and the Imperial Mausoleum, Sejong’s reaction was cautious.

“Your opinion is good. It is indeed a beautiful thing for the country to honor those who died working hard for the country. However, there will be many who oppose burying the king and queen with them. They will say that it is better to build separate royal tombs.”

Hyang answered firmly to Sejong’s point.

“There is no king without the people. It is only natural to be with the people in death as we were with them in life. And no matter how much the land belongs to the king, it is not right to find and build a good spot for the royal tomb, making the people suffer.”

“You are right!”

This is how the National Cemetery was born.

* * *

“Oh, oh~.”

“Oh, oh~.”

As the bier leaving Suganggung Palace proceeded along Jongno Street, all the people gathered along the road sat down on the ground and wailed.

As the bier moved forward, the people rose from their seats and followed behind the bier.

As the bier crossed the bridge over the Han River and headed to the National Cemetery, a huge procession made by the people following behind the bier stretched out long and long.

“Attention!”

The soldiers guarding the entrance of the National Cemetery immediately saluted as soon as they saw the bier.

As the bier passed through the entrance of the National Cemetery, the people gathered in front of the entrance and wailed.

In this way, the funeral of Yi Do, the Founding Emperor (元皇帝) of the Great Korean Federal Empire, was held.

With the establishment of the Empire, the posthumous title and reign name were abolished under the pretext that the etiquette of China could not be followed, and he became the ‘Founding Emperor’.

* * *

After Sejong’s funeral, the Empire slowly began to return to normal.

Hyang also began to prepare for his return to Shinji.

“The problem is this…”

Hyang looked at the letter placed in front of him with a very nervous expression.

It was a letter that Sejong had left for Hyang to see alone.

“I can’t even guess what’s written inside…”

Hyang’s worry was due to the Miscellaneous Records left by Sejong.

Sejong, who had created the Miscellaneous Records, a product of all sorts of bizarre, no, terrifying results while contemplating in his spare time, had asked Hyang to see it alone.