Chapter 3
After receiving the royal edict from King Sejong—no, from Sejong—I quietly returned to my seat.
After the ceremony ended and the banquet was laid out, whether because I was the top scorer or because I'd been branded an insolent newcomer, several high-ranking officials in red court robes crowded around me.
The bent-over old man I saw yesterday must be Heo Jo, and the warm-looking bearded man had to be Hwang Hui, I guessed.
Just looking at the expressions on their faces as they watched me made me feel afraid.
In alternate-history novels, I had seen ministers serving under Sejong described as treating the protagonist like some new graduate student.
At any rate, the look in those two men's eyes toward me was exactly this.
It was the kind of look a corporal obsessed with discipline gives a poor, pitiful private who's about to get chewed out from above.
"I am Heo Jo, Minister of Rites. And the gentleman beside me here is Bangchon, the Minister of Taxation."
"It is an honor to meet two renowned court ministers."
Normally, when a newcomer says something like that, an old hand would say something encouraging like, "Let's do our best from here on out," and the mood should turn warm from there.
But who do you think I am? I'm the madman who wrote on the exam answer sheet that the king doesn't properly look after his subjects and just shakes them down for taxes.
If I'd been a famous scholar in seclusion saying that, they might have let it slide as a sharp truth that cut straight through the times...
But I'm only a lowly newly passed sixth-rank official.
So if I sum up the situation in one line? I'm completely screwed.
Proving that my guess hadn't been wrong, Heo Jo took a shot at me.
"My, Joseon has produced a great statesman. A talent who could prop up Joseon like Zhuge Liang or Yue Fei. But what I'm really curious about is this: when you read the classics, have you ever seen the line that says the tongue is a sword that cuts people down, and the mouth is a door that brings on disaster?"
There was only one choice I could make here.
First, I would grovel and apologize for acting too full of myself.
In truth, if I wanted to, as someone who had studied Joseon history, I could also hotly prove exactly why the current tax policy made no sense...
But right now I was already on thin ice.
And if I still calmly and clearly blurted out the right answer in this situation, that would just make me an idiot who'd swallowed all sense of reading the room.
"I am sorry."
"I also agree with your words that the age of peace and prosperity is still far off for Joseon. But no matter how much you may want to talk about taxes... how can a young man so harshly criticize the taxation system that has been refined over many years, from the reign of Great King Taejo to that of His Majesty the current king? What a loyal subject you are."
Joseon is a country of etiquette.
Korea is also a country that values manners, but it's very different from Joseon.
In Korea, if you're rude, the worst that happens is that your superiors mark you down and it hurts your promotions; in Joseon, if you're rude, you get beaten senseless.
If I hadn't been appointed magistrate of Jinhae, I would have been dragged to a new-official welcome ceremony (sinchamrye) and forced to absorb proper manners.
Things like bowing to the clerks and fetching snacks and drinks, or wading into muddy water to catch fish.
In this world where etiquette matters, not giving anyone a handle to use against you is more important than anything.
"Harsh politics are scarier than a tiger. And you're telling me the tax policy imposed on the people is exactly like that? What a brazen punk. Back in my day, back in my day, nobody had the guts to say something that bold."
As Heo Jo kept fuming, the Bangchon beside him, meaning Hwang Hui, tried to calm him down.
"Wasn't that answer just youthful swagger from a hot-blooded young man? And His Royal Highness the retired king, Yi Bang-won, has already said the logic wasn't wrong."
"If I didn't know that, would I have let him off? That worthless upstart who toppled rotten Goryeo and raised Joseon up to this point is calling the taxation system we painstakingly built more terrifying than a tiger. There's no way I can let him live."
"Why are you so rigid? Principles are good and order is good, but sometimes you have to be flexible."
"Hmph, Confucius..."
"Aigoo, enough with that and have a drink already. Isn't this a celebration for passing the exam at the top? What do you think you're doing?"
Hwang Hui casually sat Heo Jo in the seat beside me.
Then he gave me a look and had me pour drinks into their empty cups.
In real history, Hwang Hui was said to be fierce when he needed to be, but also pretty good at maintaining relationships; maybe not as good as Maeng Sa-seong, but he was excellent at playing the brake here.
Even if Hwang Hui is the embodiment of corruption, he did save me today, so for this gathering alone I should think of him as the clean-handed Prime Minister Hwang Hui and treat him with the utmost respect.
"Please, the two of you, be generous with this overly eager young Confucian scholar."
When I bowed even more deeply, Heo Jo clicked his tongue.
"If this were my day, you'd have been dragged off as soon as the Bangbang Rite ended and taught the proper attitude a junior official should have toward his seniors. You're really lucky. Back in my day..."
Hwang Hui stopped Heo Jo, who was still spouting that 'back in my day' nonsense, with a wave of his hand and smiled.
Ah! That smile, that grin... it looked exactly like a professor's when about to kidnap a graduate student.
Young officials with no idea would see that kind, benevolent smile and think, "As expected, ministers are different. That's the composure that comes from cherishing those beneath them and from years of experience," and admire it.
But having seen people lured into graduate school and turned into slaves by that kindly expression, I know.
Never to be fooled by that smile.
"Having risen to this position, I now understand that the court needs young, capable talent like you above all. The Minister of Rites may be saying this now, but before His Majesty he already praised you to the skies, saying that although you're cheeky, you have exceptional insight into the flaws of the system."
"I am sorry."
"That may sound like stale praise to someone who passed first, but truly, a person with your insight and understanding will surely become a pillar of the nation in the future. It seems the retired king and His Majesty both have high hopes for you."
"I am deeply honored."
Hwang Hui poured me another cup of liquor.
I took it, turned my head away, and downed it in one gulp.
"But you know, a good eye is useless on its own. Even if you read a text a thousand times, what good is it if you don't understand the teachings it contains?"
"Yes. Only when you grasp the meaning contained in the words as you read them does it truly become your own."
"Still, I don't yet know whether the Jinhae magistrate is merely someone who reads the words, or a prodigy who can truly grasp their meaning and put it into practice."
What Hwang Hui meant was that he didn't know whether I was just a smooth-talking fraud or truly a capable worker.
"There are countless fake gentlemen in this world who do nothing but polish their words. I'm very curious to see which kind of man you are."
I felt a chill run down my spine and the hairs all over my body stand on end.
In Joseon, the phrase "fake gentleman" is one of the harshest insults there is among people—more precisely, among the yangban.
In modern Korean swear-speak, it'd be roughly the equivalent of "you bastard son of a dead conman."
Using that kind of phrase to find out what sort of person I was meant...
"Well, isn't it said that human nature is evil but can be made good through education? If you're just an arrogant smooth-talker who thinks he's got it all figured out because he's young, then our ministers can simply teach you a proper lesson in the principles of Confucius and Mencius."
"I wouldn't object."
"As magistrate of Jinhae, I'll see what kind of person you are through the work you do on the job. Please don't disappoint me."
Hwang Hui said this and, smiling again, took Heo Jo away.
It was really strange.
Clearly the food and liquor set before me were top-tier items made directly in the palace...
but I couldn't taste a thing.
And I thought that if I didn't want to get a "proper lesson" from the ministers—including every kind of absurdity and guaranteed overtime every day—I absolutely had to deliver top results in Jinhae.
"At this point, even if quitting office gets pushed a little farther off, let's just survive."
**
And so, I was assigned to Jinhae along with Dolsoe and a few others.
Normally, a magistrate, as soon as he takes office, receives a huge gift of local specialties, which he then sends to the officials who recommended him and the people he owes favors to, as a matter of custom.
Yu Hee-chun, who wrote the Miam Diary, even received 1,000 seom of rice in the year he was released from exile...
In this way, in Joseon, collecting gifts of local specialties is important.
So the local clerk, the moment he saw me...
"Magistrate, Jinhae is famous for anchovies, dried persimmons, and paulownia-wood handicrafts. So in the hope of helping you, we..."
"No need. Bring me the tax ledgers right now."
I had said, in my own mouth, that there was a way to set Joseon right.
If Hwang Hui and Heo Jo were saying they expected something from me, I had to answer by showing a performance beyond what a mere lowly magistrate could manage.
"Since Your Majesty loves the people as his children, I too must have that same heart."