There Is No Sejong In My Joseon [EN]: Chapter 151

“Because of your wicked nonsense, the harvest for the year is ruined! What are you going to do about it!”

The person Bulno had influenced was Galdae, the chieftain of Tamju.

Tamju was located south of Gongheomjin and relatively close to the Mudan River, where a faction of the Heomjin Orchens lived.

Naturally, a tribe living in such an environment could not have been farming properly.

They simply sowed seeds and prayed for a bountiful harvest.

This was because they were not skilled in agriculture, and the Jurchen civilization was, by Joseon standards, quite poor.

So, when Bulno appeared and started spouting things like, “Ah, don’t you know? This is rice. If you plant it in the ground, you can get a huge yield,” Galdae couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“If we cultivate rice, will things really change?”

“Of course. It seems you’re growing insignificant grains here, but it’s a waste to leave this vast land idle with such petty farming.”

Speaking so confidently, Galdae trusted Bulno completely.

It’s not something to laugh at easily.

Although Bulno was a scoundrel in Joseon proper, here he was the only literate person and someone who had received a proper education.

In modern terms, you could say he was a Ph.D. who studied in the United States.

What this meant was that, at least within Galdae’s tribe, Bulno’s words were given absolute authority.

Of course, Bulno’s major was reading and chanting Buddhist scriptures, not agriculture…

“Ah, such a knowledgeable person will surely know what he’s doing!”

About five hundred years later, there was an incident where tens of millions of people starved to death because they blindly followed the words of a rocket science Ph.D. who studied in the United States and planted seedlings too densely without any measures.

Perhaps it was only natural that Galdae was completely taken in by Bulno’s words.

===

“Damn it…”

I rubbed my forehead.

“How many are in your tribe?”

“A-About a hundred households…”

Bulno said, prostrating himself.

It was fortunate that the number wasn’t too large.

However, Bulno wasn’t the only one who had caused such an accident.

Upon urgent investigation, it turned out that several tribes had recklessly planted rice seeds without any planning.

“The Kimuna tribe, north of Guju, also seems to be ruining their crops by planting rice without considering the climate!”

Surprisingly, there were many people who had suffered setbacks by planting rice seeds without considering the climate and trying to grow rice.

“Joseon people should eat rice!”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t we eat this good stuff!”

‘Please, monks, just eat coarse mixed grain rice.’

The Joseon people’s love for rice far exceeded my imagination.

They tried to plant rice seeds, thinking it would be a success even if they harvested a little.

‘We should have left it to the experts.’

This time, excessive faith in the Jurchen monks became a poison.

With summers much cooler than the south and insufficient rainfall, many rice plants had already died, and the Jurchens around the Mudan River were on the verge of exploding.

But what kind of place is Joseon?

‘Joseon is basically an agricultural nation. To the extent possible in pre-modern times, and as far as the natural environment allows, they’ve maximized agricultural technology.’

That’s what I vaguely heard from Jinhyuk.

If we gather the officials who came from Joseon and put our heads together, wouldn’t something come of it?

‘And I’m here.’

As I, who had rolled around in numerous underdeveloped countries in the modern era, began to come up with ideas, a solution quickly emerged.

“First, we need to gather the millet from all around.”

“That’s right. Millet is easy to grow and thrives even in barren lands, making it the perfect crop to grow in the north.”

Our officials first came up with an emergency measure.

In Joseon, millet was treated as a weed, but it was a crop that people had been growing long before rice.

But why do we treat this good crop as a weed now?

‘Because it tastes terrible.’

It was so bad that even during the chaotic times of the late Goryeo and early Joseon dynasties, people recognized it as something they had to eat reluctantly while boiling millet porridge.

But for people living in this cold place, even growing millet was a blessing.

As a result, a laughable situation unfolded where all the withering rice plants that couldn’t even produce proper grains were pulled out, leaving only millet.

“Rye! Plant rye instead of rice!”

The sowing season for rye is in September according to the solar calendar, but in the cold north, you can plant it now.

The cold resistance of rye is beyond imagination. Sprouts grow even in snowy weather.

“From spring, we need to sow barley and wheat, which don’t require much water.”

“Let’s also plant beans in between to replenish the soil.”

I thought we could feed the livestock with oats in the remaining land.

Simply rotating these suitable crops would greatly increase the yield.

“But we won’t have any food to harvest this fall…”

“Harvesting millet won’t be nearly enough.”

Hmm, it seems we need national-level support.

I crossed my arms.

===

The Nadam festival was already entering its final stages.

The winners of wrestling and horse riding were selected, and King Taejong Yi Seong-gye bestowed generous rewards upon them.

The excitement continued to escalate with the endless feasts and competitions.

“Where is Grandfather?”

As I hurriedly searched for Yi Seong-gye, my uncle scolded me.

“You… are so busy that you came all the way here… without even showing your face… I’m disappointed…”

“I-I wasn’t just playing around.”

I was furious to hear this from the person who was having the most fun, running around participating in the competitions himself.

As I was about to retort, Yi Seong-gye, who was inside, asked,

“What’s going on?”

When Yi Seong-gye asked, I explained the whole situation.

“Grandfather, they’re all about to die.”

After neatly summarizing the story of how Bulno and the rice-obsessed people were about to ruin everything, Yi Seong-gye opened his mouth.

“So, how much do you need?”

“We need at least 10,000 *seok* [a unit of dry volume, roughly 180 liters] of grain.”

Yi Seong-gye nodded at my words.

“Good. Tell Choi Heung-rip to bring some rice from the Northeast.”

“Yes?”

No, can we even get that now?

“Well… even mixed grains would be fine. And if that happens, the food situation in the Northeast… Shouldn’t we talk to the court first?”

“Whose territory do you think the Northeast is? We’ll fill the empty granaries with grain brought from the south, so it doesn’t matter.”

Yi Seong-gye said firmly.

‘Come to think of it.’

It occurred to me that Yi Seong-gye was the wealthiest man in Joseon as an individual.

The Northeast was practically his private property.

“Buy livestock from both Taenyeongwi and Bokyeowi. We can just give them some ironware.”

Yi Seong-gye said.

The Jurchens, who were on the verge of starvation, were deeply moved by the grain that was being delivered.

They were barely able to overcome the crisis that had put their tribes in danger of disintegrating.

I then implemented additional measures.

“This alone may not be enough, so I will arrange for them to help with the work in Guju Fortress during the winter and receive wages.”

Since we had to start the fortress construction anyway, this measure was not a loss for us either.

The Jurchens’ public opinion, which had been in turmoil, finally began to calm down.

“Joseon is still paying attention to our situation.”

“It seems like life has gotten a little better than before.”

“Wasn’t this mess caused by trusting the Joseon monks in the first place?”

“But Joseon is teaching us proper farming methods and providing us with grain, right? If this had happened before, we would have had to starve to death, so this is a really good thing.”

The same was true for Galgae and Kim Munae, who were the recipients of the support.

“We are truly grateful for your great help, Elder!”

“Aren’t you our Joseon people now? It is the duty of the country to provide relief when its people are starving.

As long as you remain Joseon people, there will be many days to receive the country’s grace.”

“We will remain loyal subjects of Joseon forever!”

I tilted my head as I watched Kim Munae and Galgae kneeling and swearing so.

Is this what they call a blessing in disguise?

===

“I didn’t expect Grandfather to be so actively involved in the relief efforts, even using his private funds.”

I had vaguely noticed that Yi Seong-gye had a huge slush fund, but this time, a part of it was revealed.

Perhaps this will reach Yi Bang-won’s ears as well.

“Why, did you think I would hide it until the end because your father might steal it?”

“Wasn’t that why you’ve been hiding it until now?”

“That’s right.”

Yi Seong-gye readily admitted.

“But this matter was more important than my hidden wealth. It was a matter of the Jurchens’ trust.”

Yi Seong-gye continued.

“It was a good thing to take swift action this time. Whether they are Joseon people or Jurchens, they are your people.”

Yi Seong-gye held my hand tightly.

“The Jurchens still have the awareness that they are my subordinates, but they don’t have the awareness that they are Joseon people. The same goes for those like Kim Munae and Galgae who have received our grace this time.”

“But their thinking must have changed with this incident.”

“Their thinking won’t change completely with this one incident, but it’s a good first step.”

Then he called me in a low voice.

“Crown Prince.”

“Yes.”

“No matter what happens, you must not let go of the Jurchens. You must not do so for the sake of this country, Joseon.”

Yi Seong-gye himself had been on intimate terms with the Jurchens.

When our family was in the Northeast, Yi Seong-gye’s aunt married a Jurchen, and his neighbors and subordinates were all Jurchens.

But now, it didn’t seem to be just a story related to Yi Seong-gye’s identity.

Yi Seong-gye’s eyes were directed far away.

“I’m old and decrepit, but I still have one dream left. That’s why I insisted on holding the Nadam festival.”

Yi Seong-gye looked at the envoys of Taenyeongwi and Bokyeowi, who were shooting arrows at the target.

“The Mongols are divided now, but they still retain the spirit of their ancestors. Someday, they will threaten the north of Ming again.”

‘Hmm… is it that serious?’

What Yi Seong-gye was saying seemed more like wishful thinking than a cold assessment of reality.

According to my shallow knowledge of Korean history, Ming would be alive until at least the Byeongja Horan [Manchu invasion of Korea in 1636], so it was expected to last for another 200 years.

“It seems to be the opposite right now?”

The greatest gangster of this era, Emperor Yongle, is preparing to go on a Mongol expedition and beat them all up, so that’s unlikely to happen.

“Not now. Not in my generation, nor in Bang-won’s generation.”

Yi Seong-gye said.

“But if in your generation, if your Joseon has the Jurchens as one arm…”

Yi Seong-gye said.

“Then we wouldn’t necessarily have to be under Ming, would we?”

“…It sounds similar to what Choi Young used to say.”

To conquer Liaodong and link up with the Northern Yuan to check Ming.

‘If it had actually been implemented, Goryeo would probably have been destroyed by Ming.’

“Is that so?”

Yi Seong-gye smiled bitterly.

“My age now is similar to that old man Choi Young’s age back then. So maybe I’ve come to have similar delusions.”

Hell at the end of Goryeo, where they were swayed by huge foreign powers and couldn’t properly stop the invading enemies.
The country that Choi Young and Yi Seong-gye, the heroes of the late Goryeo period, dreamed of, may have been similar.

‘So, Yi Seong-gye planned the Liaodong conquest?’

To realize the dream of autonomy.

‘It wasn’t very realistic, though.’

In the history that I changed, he may not have given up on that dream yet.

Is holding the Nadam festival, contacting Taepyeongwi and Bokyeowi, and rolling up his sleeves to help the Jurchens all part of that?

“…”

As I was looking at the side profile of the old hero, Yi Seong-gye suddenly contorted his face.

“Come to think of it, when are you going to clarify the nonsense that a monk’s daughter saved you?”

“Is there anything for me to clarify? It’s just a rumor circulating among the subordinates.”

I said, waving my hand.

“The beautiful story of a grandfather saving his grandson is buried, and such trivial rumors are spreading! I really don’t know what the world is coming to…”

Yi Seong-gye burst into anger.

‘What is this.’

The heroic demeanor he had shown until just now was nowhere to be found, and only a grandfather acting like a child remained.

What the.

Give me back my 感动 [gǎndòng – Chinese word for ‘moved’ or ‘touched’].

End