There Is No Sejong In My Joseon [EN]: Chapter 317

Hanseong.

When people have enough to eat, they start to look for other things.

People who used to work tirelessly just to have enough food naturally become interested in entertainment when they have some money to spare.

Some fell into unhealthy pastimes like gambling—except for Gyeokgu Toto [a sports betting game based on Gyeokgu, an ancient Korean sport]—but in a nation of Confucian scholars, if you wanted to appear cultured, you would eventually pick up a book.

Thanks to this trend, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that a rental bookstore was opening on almost every street.

In Hanseong these days, you could find any book you wanted if you had the money.

From agricultural books to various technical manuals, military treatises, Confucian classics, and miscellaneous writings like scandalous stories.

Even though the fiber didn’t hold the dye well, making the paper yellowish, it wasn’t too expensive because there was a lot of usable paper on the market.

The most popular books right now were the novels serialized in *Joheun Saenggak* [a popular magazine or publication].

High-ranking scholars might frown at the scandalous stories, but commoners could feel like intellectuals just by reading a novel in Hangeul [the Korean alphabet].

It was even better if the book was entertaining.

Even scholars who pretended to be refined were secretly reading it, just like young boys pretending not to watch *Pretty Cure* [a popular magical girl anime series].

Rental bookstores in Hanseong were the place everyone peeked into at least once, except for those who couldn’t read Hangeul.

Quick-witted bookstore owners, not satisfied with just that, even obtained pirated versions of *Hunminjeongeum* [the original document describing the Korean alphabet] and put them out.

“Is there anyone in Hanseong these days who can’t read Hangeul?”

“We have *Hunminjeongeum* outside, so why don’t you learn it?”

The original *Hunminjeongeum*, with its detailed creation principles, was not something many people possessed besides officials, but the practical condensed version was a different story.

Because the volume was only a few pages, countless copies were made everywhere, and all sorts of duplicates were rampant, but no one pointed it out.

Even the King, who usually lamented Joseon’s lack of copyright awareness, viewed this as a positive thing.

As Hangeul became widely available and the number of people who had some knowledge of literature increased (or so they believed), poetry gatherings naturally began to flourish everywhere.

Since Hangeul was easy to learn, even those who had nothing to do with Chinese studies gathered and enjoyed writing poetry if they had some money.

“Traveling merchant Kim returns every month, not for business but for drinking every day…”

Min Mugoo frowned as he listened to the poem coming from the next room of the teahouse.

“They’re poorly imitating a seven-character quatrain and can’t even rhyme properly. Is all commoners’ poetry like that?”

He knew that this kind of vernacular poetry was popular these days, but it was truly appalling to hear.

“Poetry has a form, but since those who haven’t even learned the *Thousand Character Classic* [a foundational text for literacy in East Asia] are all writing it, this is truly…”

The *sije* [the theme or subject of a poem] is what determines the quality of a poem.

They can’t write about respect for the king, the beauty of mountains and rivers, or the deeds of ancient sages, but they write poems about traveling merchants holding drinking parties.

He didn’t know for sure, but the guy who wrote this poem was probably a commoner who made money by luck in this day and age.

Even though the world had changed so much, Min Mugoo’s inner *kkondae* [a Korean slang term for an older person who is condescending and stuck in their ways] began to revive as he saw even lowly commoners gathering to write poetry.

‘If His Majesty had been more interested in poetry, he would have forbidden this act of corrupting literature.’

But he couldn’t expect much.

The King was least interested in writing poetry and playing around.

It was strange that he had no interest in poetry, considering he had written *Yongbieocheonga* [“Songs of the Dragons Flying to Heaven,” a Korean epic poem] as a child and even defeated Kwon Geun, a literary figure of the time.

‘I can’t help it.’

Of course, his experience of going out to the countryside and experiencing hardships for a long time didn’t allow him to express such dissatisfaction carelessly.

The world had changed, so he had to change too.

Min Mugoo sucked on his *Hwanta* [a Korean orange soda, similar to Fanta] with ice floating in it through a metal straw, suppressing his dissatisfaction.

Min Mugoo closed his eyes and savored the taste of carbonation, sugar, and fruit before opening his mouth.

“So, did you get His Majesty’s permission before proceeding with this?”

“Of course. I told him when I expressed my intention to resign from my position.”

‘Didn’t His Majesty just want to get rid of you quickly and didn’t say anything…?’

Min Mugoo looked at Min Insaeng and tilted his head.

Like Min Mugoo, Min Insaeng was also from the Yeoheung Min clan.

Although their ancestors had separated during the military regime of the Goryeo Dynasty, so their relationship wasn’t very close, they had met since they both held government positions at the same time.

Naturally, when Min Insaeng decided to establish the ‘Jobosa,’ it was only natural that he sought out Min Mugoo, the King’s maternal relative, as someone to help him.

However, Min Mugoo, who had almost had his head cut off by the former King, had an expression on his face that seemed to say, ‘Is it really okay to make something like this?’

“You’re going to print *Jobo* [official government gazettes]? Without involving the government office, and with people like us contributing money on our own?”

*Jobo* was a type of official document that was passed down to current and former officials.

Even though *Jobo* was secretly circulating, he couldn’t not know what it meant to print it openly.

Especially since the other party was Min Insaeng, the most suspicious person to be a business partner in this kind of endeavor.

“If you act rashly, you’ll be in big trouble.”

Min Mugoo swallowed nervously.

In fact, he had been purged and sent to the countryside, and his younger brothers were only in charge of managing salt farms.

‘I made a lot of money, though.’

Wasn’t the ban on entering the capital only lifted after the King ascended the throne?

Even then, his younger brothers only stayed in Bupyeong and didn’t try to come to the capital easily.

‘They must have been watching the former King’s every move while in Joseon.’

While the former King was watching with his eyes wide open, Min Mugoo didn’t want to do anything that would stand out as much as possible.

“*Jobo* leakage, you say!”

However, Min Insaeng shook his head as if his pride had been hurt.

“This isn’t something we’re doing just to receive *Jobo*!”

“Then…?”

“We’re going to send people out to gather news and report on the news that many people urgently want to know.”

Min Insaeng continued.

“I saw a book called *Sin Byeongga*. It vividly described the experiences of our soldiers while serving in the military.”

The difficulties of marching in the mud, the scenery of Liaoyang they saw while walking, or even trivial experiences that ordinary soldiers might have.

Seeing such things recorded and widely read by many people, Min Insaeng also felt like he had been hit on the head.

‘Isn’t the history of a country just about the affairs of the royal family?’

If you were to pick the most important person in Joseon, it would be the King, but not everything happens from his hands.

For some, it might be most important when it will rain, and for others, it might be most important what the rice price is in the market.

“The country’s policies and affairs, the harvest conditions of each region, the weather in the capital, and the trends of the government offices are what people desperately want to know.”

Some of that information is included in *Jobo*.

However, since it is aimed at government officials, *Jobo* was closer to an official document than a newspaper.

It was published mainly with news and precautions that officials needed to know.

“Even *Jobo* is circulated until it wears out once it leaves the government office, so what would happen if we published such a newsletter?”

Min Mugoo was also a person who couldn’t just pretend he didn’t hear and leave.

‘Yes, isn’t this the world where even those commoners are reading books?’

Min Mugoo looked for an opportunity, despite the subtle displeasure he felt as a member of the Samhan Gapjok [prestigious clans in Korean history].

Did the broadened knowledge he gained while traveling around the countryside help him too?

But Min Mugoo had to make sure of something before that.

“Tell me.”

“You must never publish secret affairs of the palace or important secrets of the country!”

If a problem arose, he would have no choice but to kill Min Insaeng himself.

‘Isn’t murder a lighter crime than treason?’

Min Mugoo was so serious that his eyes were bloodshot, but Min Insaeng looked at him with a dumbfounded expression.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Huh?”

He clearly thought he would say something like ‘I will report the truth even if a knife is held to my throat.’

Min Mugoo was dumbfounded when Min Insaeng looked at him like he was an idiot and said that.

“Just as we don’t reveal the *Veritable Records* [official historical records of the Joseon Dynasty] to the people, I have no intention of publishing such things in *Jobo*.”

Min Insaeng, although retired, was faithful to the principles of the *Veritable Records*, as he believed himself to be a historian to the bone.

King Lee Je would have scoffed if he had heard that.

“That’s good. But the name Jobosa is not appropriate.”

Min Mugoo didn’t like Min Insaeng’s attitude, but whatever the reason, he was glad that Min Insaeng had regained his sanity.

Barely managing to calm himself, Min Mugoo continued.

“*Joheun Saenggak* comes out once every ten days, right? Then let’s print ours at about that interval… Since it comes out once every ten days, let’s call it *Sunbo* (旬報) [Ten-day Report].”

The name *Jobo* was easy to find fault with.

In the first place, it wasn’t something issued by the court, so it couldn’t be called *Jobo* (朝報) [Court Report].

“The name doesn’t matter. Now, let’s take a look at the first article of our dreams.”

Min Insaeng fluttered his *dopo* [a traditional Korean overcoat worn by scholars] and took out a picture.

It was a picture that seemed to depict something.

Min Mugoo looked at it with a dumbfounded face.

“W-What is this?”

“It’s a Buddha statue that your nephew is gathering stonemasons to make.”

“Nephew?”

“I’m talking about Grand Prince Hyoryeong.”

“Ah….”

Min Mugoo frowned.

However, there was no time to point out ‘I clearly told you not to deal with royal family stories,’ because the *maae-bul* [a Buddha image carved into a cliff face] depicted in the picture looked so bizarre.

===

“…What is this?”

“It’s a Buddha statue made of stone.”

I never thought that the Buddha statue figure I gave to Hyoryeong when I was young would come back like this.

‘Where did he get the marble?’

Isn’t a Buddha statue originally made of wood and gilded?

Stone Buddhas also exist, but they are usually made much more roughly than this.

“While renovating the temple, we gathered strange rocks from various regions and discovered a good marble deposit in Jeongseon.”

Grand Prince Hyoryeong said with his hands clasped together.

He looked like a high priest who had practiced for a long time, but it didn’t resonate with me.

‘A guy with more than one or two concubines.’

Well, from the adults’ point of view, it’s better to have many descendants than to not have children because you resemble a monk.

So I don’t say anything.

“Even Seokguram [a famous Korean grotto containing a Buddha statue] was elaborately crafted and had an elegant charm, but on the contrary, the technique has declined over time.

My younger brother was saddened by this and gathered stonemasons to continue making stone Buddhas, and I wanted to offer you the best one.”

It wasn’t the rough appearance that comes to mind when you think of stone Buddhas, but the marble was neatly trimmed in earnest.

It was closer in shape to the sculptures I saw in art class in the old days.

I don’t know what style it is because my knowledge of art is shallow, but except for the oriental atmosphere.

‘Hmm.’

It’s well-made in its own way.

Also, since it’s a stone statue given by my younger brother, I can’t just throw it away, so let’s keep it where the Gilt-bronze Incense Burner is.

The officials might make a fuss about worshiping Buddhism, but when have I ever cared about that?

“Thank you. I will accept it well.”

I said, nodding my head.

Hyoryeong nodded his head with a benevolent smile, as if he knew I would.

“But what’s this about carving a *maae-bul* on a cliff in Bukhansan?”

“….”

‘Was it a bribe after all.’

I received intelligence that there was a crazy guy carving a Buddha’s face on a cliff in Bukhansan, so I wondered if it was him.

‘I’m glad I found you before it was too late.’

If the *samsa* [the Office of the Inspector General, Office of Censors, and Office of Special Advisors] had asked, they would have made a fuss about a plan to build a Buddhist theocratic state.

But there was still time to fix it.

End