There Is No Sejong In My Joseon [EN]: Chapter 41

The development of Hanyang [modern-day Seoul] was progressing faster than ever.

Buildings were being erected everywhere, and smoke billowed from the smelters. Both the original residents of Hanyang and those who had moved from Gaeseong [an ancient capital of Korea] marveled at the sight.

It wasn’t just the buildings reaching for the sky that were advancing.

– Boom!

With the explosion, acrid smoke filled the air, and dirt and stone fragments scattered in all directions.

A large rock that had been blocking the middle of the road had been shattered by the explosion.

As the dust settled and visibility improved, workers walked over and began to sweep up the remaining stone fragments that had once been a boulder.

“In the old days, paving a road like this would have taken a lot of effort, but with gunpowder, even a big rock like that is gone in one blast.”

“That’s right. A rock that size would have been hard to budge even with dozens of strong men.”

“Wow, that explosion was awesome. I wish we could see this fun sight more often.”

It was so firmly embedded in the ground that they couldn’t dig it out.

They were using the gunpowder distributed for construction purposes exactly as intended.

There were instructions to avoid such blasting operations as much as possible since these large rocks could also be usefully used as materials, but the effect itself was spectacular.

The problem, however, was this:

“There’s a small sacred shrine in front of the road we’re building over there. What should we do?”

“What do you mean, what should we do? The country has already planned the road, so what does a shrine matter?”

“That’s not just any shrine. All the locals say that a spirit resides there, and if you touch it, everyone will be cursed and die.”

“Ha, a goblin is interfering with national affairs. We have no choice but to use strong *yang* energy [positive, active energy in Taoist philosophy] to drive it away.

Take the gunpowder and blow it all away!”

The result was so explosive that there were countless people trying to use gunpowder for any excuse.

“Seriously, do these people think explosions are fireworks?”

I was dumbfounded when I heard the story of how they used several pounds of gunpowder just to blow up a shrine.

I had read a story about Cao Cao cutting down a pear tree to make a beam, only for blood to spurt out and haunt him—the source being the manga *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*—but this was the first time I’d heard of exorcism done in such a novel way.

Even when I tried to question the waste of gunpowder, they just made excuses about trying to drive away the ghost with strong *yang* energy, which left me speechless.

Of course, in the minds of people of this era, that might be the case.

Even intellectuals talk about the harmony of *yin* and *yang* [negative/passive and positive/active energies in Taoist philosophy].

However, I still couldn’t shake my doubts.

‘No matter how I think about it, they just wanted to play with fire.’

This is all because of a lack of entertainment.

Living in an era where there were limited things to do, the Joseon people [people of the Joseon Dynasty, 1392-1897] seemed to regard blasting operations as some kind of exotic firework show.

The person in charge, too.

“Wow, I went to the road construction site the other day, and the gunpowder explosions were so refreshing. It’s different from the gunpowder we used before.”

‘Even Grandpa.’

When Yi Seong-gye [the first king of Joseon] came to Hanyang last time, I wondered why he was staying in the capital instead of abandoning his grandson to go out and play. It turned out he had gone to watch the explosions.

“I’m having a headache because of that problem. We don’t have enough gunpowder, but I’m worried these guys are using it for unnecessary things…”

Then, suddenly suspicious of Yi Seong-gye in front of me, I asked.

“When you visited the site last time, you didn’t insist on using gunpowder in construction areas where it wasn’t necessary, did you?”

“Ahem, aren’t I from a military background? I just wanted to see how much Joseon’s gunpowder had developed…”

“Aaaargh!”

Why is this old man, who’s almost seventy, acting like this?

It wasn’t just Yi Seong-gye.

These days, whenever I went to a construction site, I could see groups of people gathering from afar to watch.

They were indeed Joseon people who liked firepower.

The problem was still gunpowder.

We had created a fairly large saltpeter field near Hanyang, so the production volume was much higher than the traditional method of mobilizing soil collectors to scrape soil from everywhere.

However, there was still not enough gunpowder.

What if we can’t use gunpowder for difficult construction projects and the construction period gets longer?

“These damn…”

I clutched my head.

To blow up a real shrine with gunpowder, what were they thinking?

If they felt uneasy, they could have just held a ritual and smashed it with a hammer.

What do you mean, catch ghosts with gunpowder…

“Ahem, if a young man like you worries about trivial problems, you’ll lose your hair later.”

Yi Seong-gye chuckled and added fuel to the fire.

A grandfather who teases his grandson whether he’s stressed or not.

I sighed deeply.

“Are you bored these days?”

When I asked Yi Seong-gye, he nodded.

“Why don’t you go hunting?”

“I went so many times last time that I’m a bit tired of it now.”

Hunting is boring.

Was that even possible?

Of course, I don’t hunt.

I am 1/3 Buddhist.

How can I carelessly kill living beings?

‘It’s annoying.’

Since I’m a prince, if I want to eat meat, they’ll get it for me, so why go hunting?

But for Yi Seong-gye to stop hunting…

“Then how about *Gyeokgu* [a traditional Korean polo-like game]?”

Yi Seong-gye and my uncle Yi Bang-gwa both enjoyed and were good at *Gyeokgu*.

I thought he might be interested in *Gyeokgu*, but,

“That’s also getting old.”

“If you don’t exercise and just stay at home, you’ll get sick.”

“That’s why I’m training with you every day. Do you think this retired king would get sick that easily?”

I can’t imagine Yi Seong-gye, who is not seriously ill, becoming exhausted from not exercising.

“Hunting or *Gyeokgu*, it’s no fun doing it alone.”

Yi Seong-gye said after repeated rejections.

I suddenly thought about the loneliness of old age.

“Don’t you have any… friends?”

“Most of them are dead at my age.”

Ah.

The people who are still alive are either dying soon or busy with their own lives.

As people get older, their relationships decrease, and they spend most of their time alone, so loneliness is inevitable.

In modern times, they create senior centers and play Go-Stop [a Korean card game] together, but I didn’t think Yi Seong-gye would do that.

I looked at Yi Seong-gye with pitiful eyes.

“?”

Yi Seong-gye cleared his throat.

‘Grandpa has few friends.’

That’s why he came to play with his grandson.

‘Ah, it’s my duty as a grandson to play with Grandpa.’

I thought so, hitting my forehead.

I’ve been too indifferent.

I’ve been a good grandson, but I should have comforted his emotional loneliness.

‘If I keep neglecting him like this, he might become a twisted old man in the future.’

I laughed and said to Yi Seong-gye.

“Okay. I’ll find you an amazing entertainment for you.”

Where in the world is there such a filial grandson?

“As expected.”

Yi Seong-gye nodded.

“You must have been bored too.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You don’t have any friends either.”

Oh.

Come to think of it.

I don’t either.

===

It was necessary to provide an outlet for the enthusiasm of not only Yi Seong-gye but also other people.

It’s good that Hanyang is becoming the new capital and that various projects are bringing vitality, but it would be a problem if that energy flowed in a strange direction.

“We need to induce emotional explosions, not just physical explosions.”

Violent sports that exist in this era, such as *Gyeokgu*, are expensive and not easily accessible to ordinary people.

“Is that the only option…”

Basically, a sport that can be played with just one ball and has relatively simple rules.

“Soccer.”

“Soccer, are you talking about soccer?”

Nobun asked, bewildered.

I put a ball on my finger and spun it around.

It was a soccer ball made of cowhide.

Since there was already a game called *Chuk-guk* [a traditional Korean ball game] in this era where people kicked a ball, it was easy to get one.

“Is the stadium ready?”

A stadium is not a large modern stadium. We can’t divert scarce resources there.

So, we just leveled the ground in an empty lot and set up two goals.

We didn’t even draw lines.

Even then, the goalposts were uneven.

Since the rules are not strict, more intense physical contact than modern soccer was expected, but that was something to be tolerated.

The demonstration players who would show soccer for the first time were selected from among the workers who enjoyed *Chuk-guk*.

They blinked and asked.

“How do you play soccer?”

“Each team consists of 11 players, and you just have to put the ball under that goalpost. Use only your feet and head, not your hands.”

Explaining complex rules would be useless now that they are not familiar with soccer, and we can add them gradually as soccer becomes more popular.

After passing the ball a few times, the workers soon became familiar with soccer.

As they began to show off their ball-handling skills, I began to warm up.

“Shall I join in?”

After taking out one player, I was put in and immediately snatched the ball without any interference.

As I dribbled the ball with my brilliant skills, the soldiers couldn’t catch up.

“Ugh!”

“The, the Crown Prince is coming!”

Even as I just dribbled the ball past them, the opposing players fell like autumn leaves.

Yes, this is the taste.

I remember the days when I played soccer with clients when I was in modern times.

This time, I was the one receiving.

One-on-one chance with the goalkeeper!

I kicked the ball behind the falling goalkeeper.

Since we didn’t make a net, the ball went straight through the goal and rolled away.

“Goal!”

For reference, this goal is not English.

It’s written with the character for ‘fall’ (汨), meaning it fell into the goal.

As always, I don’t know if it’s the right usage.

“The new ball game you boasted about is quite fun.”

Yi Seong-gye said, admiring me as I returned without regret after scoring a goal.

Unlike the existing *Chuk-guk*, which was close to *Jokgu* [another Korean ball game, similar to foot volleyball], it was a form of several people entangled with each other to steal the ball and run to the opponent’s goal to score, so it had a more exciting taste.

“Ahem, smart friends are good at playing too.”

I said shamelessly.

I don’t know when soccer was created in England, but could Joseon become the country of origin of soccer because of this?

Then today is the honorable day when the first soccer game was held in Joseon…

– Thwack!

“Wow, wow!”

“Kill him!”

My thoughts were interrupted by a strange noise.

Amidst the cheers of the crowd that had gathered, I looked back at the stadium where I had been playing until just now.

The players, who had automatically fallen in a row when I passed by, were now pushing and hitting each other to grab the ball, turning into a scene of utter chaos.

“Put the ball in!”

“Get rid of him!”

“That guy won’t let go of the ball, just beat him up!”

Is this soccer or a brawl?

I was roughly stunned by the sudden chaos.

However, other people seemed to think differently.

“It’s so peaceful compared to *Seokjeon* [a traditional Korean stone-throwing battle]!”

“The Crown Prince has given us something fun to watch!”

“Seeing them fight like that makes me want to play soccer too?”

…I seem to have underestimated the violence of the Joseon people.

“Hahaha, I really like this ball game, Crown Prince! We must spread the way to play soccer all over the country!”

I grabbed the back of my neck as I listened to Yi Seong-gye next to me.