Chapter 7
An impromptu village feast was being held in Baenamugol, Jinhae County.
It was because the new magistrate said he would ease the burden of the tribute tax that had been tormenting them.
On top of that, he had handed out half a sack of rice per household.
There surely wasn't another magistrate in all the world who looked after the people and did his job this well...
The villagers had thrown this feast to share in that joy and delight.
A pot of rich meat soup, made with one pig and several chickens, sat on everyone's table.
All of them were just waiting for the village headman to declare the feast open.
“Long live His Majesty for sending us such a splendid magistrate!”
The villagers raised bowls full of makgeolli high into the air.
Gapdol, who had given birth to his second child just a few days ago, raised his bowl with everyone else so as not to be left out.
“Long live His Majesty! Long live the magistrate!”
“Magistrate, please stay with us for ten more years!”
According to missionary records, Joseon's adults, men and women alike, lived up to the reputation of being able to drink like fish, and everyone emptied their makgeolli in an instant.
Even though it was the same makgeolli they drank every day at snack time.
The makgeolli they were drinking now was especially sweet and refreshing.
“This makgeolli is to die for! Another round here!”
“Hey, Gapdol! You can’t drink that fast. You’ll die if you do. Slow down a bit.”
“Cheoljin, you’re nagging even on a day like this? Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
“No matter how good the day is, if you drink that fast, you’ll end up going to see the King of the Underworld before you can have another drink. Don’t you know that?”
“You’re such a nag that my wife, who’s just like you, nags me every day too. Could you speak a little more nicely? I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a proper father of two, a father!”
Even as he said that, Gapdol poured Cheoljin another drink.
He could be annoying, always nagging the moment he opened his eyes, but Gapdol knew he was also a deeply warm-hearted man... and besides, wasn’t this a good occasion anyway?
“Yeah, come to think of it, you really lucked out.”
“How so?”
“Our magistrate has just taken office, so he’ll govern this county for at least two years, won’t he? That means he’ll have two years to improve our lives before he leaves.”
Gapdol had lived in Joseon for a whopping twenty-five years. In that time, he had seen more than thirteen magistrates come and go.
The magistrates themselves were human too, so there were all kinds of them.
There were lunatics who came empty-handed when they took office, only to leave with dozens of carts piled high with precious local specialties, earning the name of corrupt official for generations.
It wasn’t as if there had never been magistrates praised for their integrity because they tried not to oppress the people.
But if a bad harvest came, maybe they might reduce taxes—never when there wasn’t even a bad harvest.
Even in a bad harvest, the tribute tax wasn’t reduced; and now there was a magistrate who would cut that tribute tax?
If the people in the neighboring county heard this, they’d start cursing it as utter nonsense.
Truth was, even Gapdol and Cheoljin felt like this situation was a dream.
To think that the tribute tax that had bent their backs so brutally would be reduced from now on...
“Are you saying you’re jealous that I get to enjoy these good times longer than you, old man?”
“No, are you telling me to die sooner?”
“If you’re upset, live to eighty. Then you’ll get to enjoy these better times longer than I will.”
The man called Cheoljin no longer replied and instead wolfed down the meat soup and rice in front of him.
He was avoiding the conversation because Gapdol had left him speechless.
“I told you, you can’t beat me in a war of words.”
“Shut up and eat your rice already. Look over there. Those ravenous old men are devouring all the meat soup.”
Where Cheoljin pointed was a crowd of people wolfing down meat soup and rice as if they had gone a week without food.
The meat soup that had filled an earthen pot vanished in the blink of an eye, and they were emptying bowl after bowl of rice.
If Kim Daebung had seen it, he would have been so shocked he’d have clutched the back of his neck. How could anyone possibly eat that fast?
Gapdol grinned at the sight.
“If the newly arrived magistrate keeps doing as well as he has, we’ll be able to live much better than we have so far. What do you think, old man?”
“No need to say it twice. If the tribute tax is cut, I could start feeding my kids two meals a day right away. Three meals? Why not? If not that, I’d save up the leftover rice and buy even a small patch of farmland.”
Gapdol imagined it: his wife and children eating even one extra bowl of rice to their fill.
And then he’d buy even a small patch of land in his own name, farm diligently on land that was truly his, and by the time it was time to marry off his children, he’d have a proper little field of his own and live by tilling nothing but his own land.
Just thinking about it made his eyes sting, and a smile spread across his face.
“...... Hey, are you crying?”
“I’m not crying. And you, old man... why are you saying such gross things today? Have a penalty drink.”
“Penalty drink, my ass...”
Everyone in the village was genuinely happy today.
They were glad that the new magistrate had returned half a sack of rice, and happy because they felt they could live a little better than they had before.
“Long live His Majesty! Long live the magistrate!”
“Hey, what are you going to do if a nobleman hears you?”
“Do I care? Long live His Majesty! Long live the magistrate!”
The people living in Jinhae County felt hope for the governance Kim Daebung would carry out from here on.
Because he had cut taxes, something other magistrates couldn’t even touch, and they were looking forward to how much their lives would improve.
**
The best politician in the world is not a nice politician.
Even if his way of life is a little dirty and corrupt, if he improves the people’s food, clothing, and shelter, that is a good politician.
So rather than showing the people in this county what a true scholar-official looks like, I’ll be the kind of magistrate who makes them praise me themselves for how different life was before I came and after I came.
If I don’t do the job right, those two old fellows Hwang Hui and Heo Jo will take me down, so that’s scary too...
Since I’m doing it anyway, how great would it be to do it properly and be remembered by the people as a ‘good magistrate’?”
“Magistrate, magistrate... did you hear the news?”
“What news? Right now this magistrate is so busy handling lawsuits pouring in from everywhere and reviewing how the taxes were spent that my head’s spinning.”
“In every village in our county, the villagers are said to have held festivals of their own accord in gratitude for your benevolent rule. I’ve served as a clerk for quite a long time, but this is the first time I’ve seen a magistrate receive this kind of respect and love from the people without anyone ordering it.”
“I merely did what I was supposed to do.”
I knew there were bastards who skimmed the tribute tax off the top and stuffed their own bellies with it, and here in this county they just happened to be those damn fake monks. If I didn’t know the circumstances, maybe I’d let it slide.
Does it make sense to just stand by while a cancerous mass is gnawing away at your life?
You cut out the cancer first, even if you have to scrape together every last coin to do it. Otherwise it’ll rot the people and the county to the core.
“I’ve worked in this county as a clerk for nearly thirty years, but I’ve never met a magistrate as wise and fair as you. I truly respect you, Magistrate.”
Even if you root out corruption and improve the people’s lives, you can’t do everything at once. Just like the kid who comes dead last in school can’t study hard for a month and suddenly get a top-grade score on the college entrance exam.
If you really want that top grade, you have to know your own level and build the foundations, if necessary starting with elementary and middle school material.
You can’t overturn all at once the fact that even the lowest clerks are secretly skimming ten seom of rice a month just because their pay isn’t fixed.
It would be like trying to treat someone and killing him instead.
So, to do it one step at a time, I exposed and smashed the corrupt crew of fake monks in this tribute-tax case.
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“But aren’t you happy, Magistrate?”
“Of course I am. After making my name in the world, the first post I was appointed to was county magistrate, so the burden was huge.”
Honestly, if Sejong, Heo Jo, and Hwang Hui hadn’t shown such excessive interest in me, I wouldn’t have felt that much pressure.
I could have just done what I wanted, enjoying myself while giving the corrupt bastards a proper lesson.
But then, on the very day before I took the final civil-service exam, the person I happened to meet was the wicked professor, King Sejong...
Still, hearing the people’s praise and gratitude like this makes me feel that I’m doing well, and that’s very rewarding.
This is what makes power so thrilling. By putting the policies and beliefs I’ve thought up all this time into practice, I can sway the lives of thousands, tens of thousands of people.
A person can’t help becoming addicted to this rush, truly.
So I feel like I could stop here.
If Hwang Hui and Heo Jo hear about what I’ve done from Hanyang, they’ll give me a standing ovation.
‘But why should I stop here?’
Since I’ve started, I might as well see it through to the end.
I don’t like being run ragged by Sejong in Joseon, but as a Korean, if I ever got transmigrated into Joseon, it would be my chance to try the things I’d always wanted to do...
How could I leave an opportunity like that in front of me and do nothing? If there was something I wanted to do, I’d try it all.
Still, it’s too early to stop.
The clerk shot me an uneasy look. Right, this time I let your corruption slide without pressing the issue.
And King Sejong made the corrupt bastards work like draft oxen.
From now on, in our county, we’ll allow the people and merchants to open markets freely. First find some land near the county that’s suitable for a market, and go figure out how to run it and report back.
Yes, Magistrate.
...... Those guys are corrupt officials. Not quite to the level of Yi Wan-yong, maybe, but they’re about the same as a pro-Japanese military police corporal.
In other words, they needed a proper dose of overwork to rewire their state of mind.
I’m really glad these guys aren’t squeaky-clean loyal officials.
Get it done within a week.
Good grief, Magistrate. If you push work like that, the clerks will all die.
Those bastards may be corrupt, but I’m not. So what?
It means I can freely say to those guys, ‘Then die.’
...... Let’s see... on this tribute-tax matter, there still isn’t a memorial to His Majesty...
Quick as a flash, the sharp-eyed Kim Ibang dashed outside.
And from outside the magistrate’s hall, his booming voice rang out.
“Call Hobang and all the other clerks at once! We’re going to build a market in the county within a week! Any bastard who says he can’t do it? If you don’t want to die, just do it!”