There Is No Sejong In My Joseon [EN]: Chapter 441

442. The Return (1)

“Your Majesty, envoys from the Kingdom of Nangnang have arrived to pay tribute.”

The reason why the Sultanate of Warsangali suddenly adopted the name Nangnang wasn’t particularly grand.

It was simply because the Prince of Nangnang attached the royal title he was granted to the country he had acquired. A very simple reason.

Within their own country, they would probably call it whatever they were used to, but when dealing with Joseon, they likely figured it would be easier to use the name Nangnang.

As a branch state of the Imperial family, it would be more familiar than using the name of an unfamiliar country.

Later, conspiracy theorists might come up with things like, ‘Actually, Princess Nangnang was African,’ but that’s none of my business.

The envoys, holding maps in both hands, bowed respectfully to me and said,

“Your Majesty, we present the map of Nangnang.”

The ritual performed when tributary states paid tribute was to offer a map of their own country.

Perhaps it was because I had been showing globes and world maps to the children since they were young, and they had developed a taste for coloring. After my grandsons grew up and acquired countries, offering a map of their country and its territory became a kind of ritual.

It was close to a personal reason, but as this became a custom, strange meanings began to be attached to it.

“In the deepest part of the Imperial Palace where the Supreme Emperor resides, there is a complete map of the world covering an entire wall. Countries not drawn on it are treated as no different from barbarians!”

“Places drawn on the complete map of the world are civilized countries that have received the King’s grace, and those that are not are barbarian countries. The Emperor’s love is divided among them!”

The map, which first came from King Imjon, or rather King No, who conquered Russia, now meant that other tributary states also acknowledged Joseon’s dominion and began to offer maps of their own countries.

In any case, Joseon had no reason to refuse, either in terms of prestige or practical benefit, so they didn’t bother rejecting it.

This time as well, when the envoys from the Kingdom of Nangnang respectfully presented their country’s map first, a court attendant scurried over to receive it and presented it to me.

“They’ve developed quite a wide territory.”

I knew they had initially only occupied the coastline of northeastern Somalia, but looking at the map, it seemed that their territory was gradually expanding inland.

“As subjects of the superior country, how could we neglect our duty as a protective screen? Our King is dedicated to developing territory and subjugating the natives to spread the King’s grace.”

Most of the inland territory was probably more of an influence map with boundary markers planted here and there rather than actual territory, but if they continued to assert such claims, things would change.

The topography was drawn in quite a detail, so it didn’t seem like they were neglecting exploration itself.

At first glance, it seemed like they should be satisfied with having acquired a country.

It seemed that the effect of my constantly emphasizing exploration and development to the children was showing in this way.

The gifts presented in a row after the map were splendid, but they didn’t catch my eye.

Not to mention the gold and silver they scraped together as a gift in return for the gunpowder and weapons ‘bestowed’ by my father.

Others looked at the ivory carvings and gold roosters, among other local products, with curious eyes, but that was it.

Hundreds of years from now, they might be treated as valuable artifacts, but I wasn’t interested in them now.

‘Am I getting old?’

It is a sad thing to grow old.

Even things that would have interested me in the past no longer evoke any emotion.

This seems to be unrelated to mental age.

The mind is bound to the body.

Even in my childhood, when the time I lived as a citizen of the Republic of Korea was overwhelmingly longer than the time I lived as a prince of Joseon,

there was already a dark old man sitting inside me, but when I look back, how innocently I lived back then.

But now, the hormones of my aging body seem to make me indifferent to everything.

“Since I have received valuable gifts, I cannot but reciprocate. Let the Royal Household Agency prepare silk and porcelain for the envoys to take back.”

I waved my hand to have these moved to the treasury where the treasures were kept.

The Imperial treasury is practically becoming a museum.

The Baekje Gilt-bronze Incense Burner, which was like a symbol that brought me my destiny, is also stored there.

However, it seemed that their tribute was not over yet.

They whispered to each other, and then one person came forward and offered something.

But what they presented was an ordinary-looking stone, which was a far cry from a grand final tribute.

Except for the occasional glints, perhaps due to metallic components.

“Your Majesty, all the other tribute items are made by human hands, but this alone was bestowed by the heavens.”

“Bestowed by the heavens?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. A meteor recently fell in our country, and our King said that Your Majesty is the Son of Heaven [天子, Tianzi – a title for the emperor], so it should rightfully return to its owner.”

“Hmm…”

I grabbed the stone.

“Your Majesty?”

Ignoring the calls around me, I picked up the map along with the stone and strode down from the platform.

* * *

“Where did you bring this from?”

The Supreme Emperor’s voice, which had shown a lukewarm reaction to all kinds of precious treasures, rang out, surprising everyone around him.

It was understandable that he didn’t show much emotion.

How many treasures had the Supreme Emperor, who was practically the master of the world, seen?

But this meteorite, although it fell from the sky, was just an ordinary stone.

The fact that it was a meteorite was a bit special, but the Supreme Emperor was not the kind of person to give such things a mystical meaning.

For this reason, this meteorite was among the least important of the tribute items presented to the Supreme Emperor.

However, when the Supreme Emperor suddenly pressed for its origin, even holding up a map, the envoys were momentarily flustered.

There was no one here who was so oblivious or fearless as to retort, ‘We brought it from our country. Are you deaf?’

The envoys quickly racked their brains, desperately trying to recall the brief explanation they had heard before leaving their country.

And as the Supreme Emperor intended, they pointed to a corner of the map.

“Yes, it is said that officials who went deep inland along the river found it, so, ah, it must be around here…”

“Are you sure this is the place?”

“I don’t know the exact location… but it must be in that vicinity.”

Upon hearing the envoys’ answer, Lee Je’s expression became meaningful, and he staggered back and slumped down on the throne.

No one understood his reaction, but for him, it was extremely serious.

The bizarre situation where the meteorite that had sent him to Joseon decades ago had returned to him after a cycle of sixty years.

‘Hmm…’

“Your Majesty, what is wrong?”

Various thoughts swirled in his head, but he soon shook his head and replied.

“No… it’s nothing.”

The emotions that had briefly surged were gradually subsiding.

When he thought about it, it wasn’t really a big deal.

In the old days, he might have wondered what the identity of the shooting star that sent him here was.

But now, it didn’t matter anymore.

The meteorite had sent him to a place that needed him, as he had wished, and he had changed the world to his heart’s content.

That alone was more than enough to fulfill his wishes.

It would be greedy to want anything more here.

‘Human greed is endless.’

Nevertheless, regrets still lingered.

The Supreme Emperor, who had been content to leave after planting his seeds, was now filled with complex emotions upon seeing the meteorite.

The people who had left.

The sight of the world he had changed moving forward.

Lee Je’s honest feeling was that he wanted to see all of this again.

But for the old Supreme Emperor, both were impossible.

Lee Je quietly gripped the stone, then shook his head and placed it back on the box it had been presented on.

“Your Majesty, may I put it away now?”

“Yes. Have the tribute items taken to the treasury.”

At Lee Je’s words, the court attendants bowed their heads and retreated.

He looked at the envoys and opened his mouth.

“I have kept you waiting too long. I have prepared a small entertainment for you, so enjoy it to your heart’s content.”

* * *

Just as the naval bombardment that Joseon showed when the Ming envoys came was a unique spectacle in its own right, Joseon still often shows off its firepower to envoys from afar.

It is a good way to impress the firepower of the Joseon army, as well as a part of sales.

– Tatatatang!

The current guns have developed to the point where they cannot be compared to the old matchlock guns.

It would be rude to compare them to other countries that don’t even have proper matchlock guns.

Even if they were sold as is, countries without proper production bases would have difficulty with maintenance and gunpowder supply, let alone copying them, so most of the exports are matchlock guns that have been stockpiled as inventory.

The Ming Dynasty’s mass-produced matchlock guns have now run out, and there is even a separate line for producing matchlock guns for export only.

The demonstration of the Geumgun soldiers continued, and after the envoys’ admiration ended, the young Crown Prince began to walk out.

Do, who was standing next to him, smiled at the sight and said,

“The Crown Prince has grown up a lot.”

“I know, right? He’s already been practicing archery and bragging that he’s going to show off his skills to his grandfather.”

The old men laughed and shared such stories.

The current entertainment was more like the Crown Prince’s talent show than a political purpose like a firepower demonstration.

So the envoys also praised the Crown Prince for being truly handsome and expressed their expectations for the Crown Prince’s demonstration.

You could tell them to put some saliva on their mouths [flatter him] and say such things, but it is understandable that such banter comes out naturally when you see a cute little child struggling with a bow.

“Oh dear, it seems that a real bow is too early for the Crown Prince.”

I think so too, but the boy has long since outgrown toy bows and doesn’t even look at them anymore.

He seems to have gained the strength to pull the bowstring through constant practice, but that’s that, and more effort is needed to actually shoot the bow.

“Wouldn’t it be better to stop him before he gets hurt?”

I nodded at Do’s question.

At my command, the court attendants picked up the Crown Prince and walked away.

It was then.

The Crown Prince’s arm, which had been struggling to pull the bow, suddenly pointed above the target.

And at that moment, the bowstring snapped, and the arrow began to fly straight forward.

It looked like a beginner who had lost strength while forcibly pulling the bow, and it also looked like a hunter who had momentarily changed targets.

But either way, the result was the same.

The arrow, which had flown quickly far off the target, pierced the head of an iron bird [a mechanical bird used for target practice] fluttering by.

– Thud!

The flock of birds that had been fluttering away lost their lives and fell to the ground.

But it wasn’t just one that fell.

Another bird that had been flying overlapping behind it was attached.

The Crown Prince, who had been sulking because of the missed target, shouted with joy.

“…Hmm.”

How could that happen?

I glanced sideways and saw that my brother had a similar expression to mine.

It was like an elephant stepping backward and catching a mouse, but in fact, I had only seen a similar miracle once.

The memory of when I first introduced the matchlock gun decades ago overlapped.