Chapter 97
Among Joseon's government offices, the one at the forefront of multiculturalism is Jeonhamsa.
The reason is that Ming people, Japanese people, and Joseon people all work together here.
It's a heartwarming multicultural office just to look at.
At the shipbuilding site, a Ming artisan could be seen teaching Joseon artisans who had come to learn how to build bokseon.
“Wooden pegs, no! You can't use wooden pegs!”
Hearing that, the Joseon artisan flew into a rage.
“When you build a ship, of course you use wooden pegs. Why on earth would you use iron nails for something without any real foundation?”
“Ming bokseon are built with iron nails. If you keep insisting on wooden pegs, I'll go fetch the clerk!”
“All right, fine. Calm down.”
“Use honorifics.”
“Ah, all right, understood.”
“I'm the boss here. Just do your job properly.”
As far as I know, a foreigner would need to live in Korea for at least a year to speak Korean that well.
However, when the Office of Interpreters' advanced foreign-language training system (a method that would still work well in the 21st century) is combined with ranger calisthenics, the crown jewel of 21st-century military training...
He had become that fluent in Korean in just two months.
Seeing this effect firsthand, the interpreters reported it to their superiors, and apparently from now on, if anyone speaks Joseon Korean during training at the Office of Interpreters, they'll make the whole group suffer ranger calisthenics as collective punishment...
Thinking about the people who'd be ground down in the future, I couldn't help feeling a little sorry.
Still, I introduced ranger calisthenics for the sake of the comfortable lives of Joseon's people.
Everything that happens from here on is an unavoidable sacrifice for everyone's sake.
“Then, Boss, you should buy us a cup of makgeolli today. In Joseon, the boss is supposed to treat the hard-working apprentices or underlings to a cup of makgeolli after work.”
At his words, the Ming artisan made the same expression Sima Yi would have after falling into Zhuge Liang's trap.
But whether in Joseon or Ming, those who do hard labor are always bound to care about appearances.
The Ming artisan let out a long sigh and said,
“I'll buy the makgeolli today!”
“As expected, our boss is magnanimous.”
“If you don't work hard, there’s no makgeolli!”
This is what cultural integration looks like.
It's lovely to see the Joseon shipwrights accepting a Ming artisan as their boss and speaking in Joseon Korean.
It's just as heartwarming to see the Ming artisan happily agree when the Joseon craftsmen pressure him into buying them a drink.
“What a beautiful sight.”
Seeing how well they're blending together, in about ten years those guys will be completely Joseon.
At most, the only difference between them and someone born and raised in Joseon will be that they sometimes make Chinese dishes and introduce them to their neighbors as food from back home.
“Lord Jegeom, we've decided on the whole structure for how to build the shipyard. Please take a look.”
“Let me have a look.”
I studied the blueprint I had received from Jeong Bun.
The structure was extremely efficient.
The dry dock, the heavy machinery such as animal-powered cranes for moving heavy planks and the like, and even the spaces for paths where goods and people would pass through were all laid out with great care. That was Jeong Bun for you.
But there was one fatal flaw.
“As expected, Jeong Pan-gwan, who even among Joseon's renowned master carpenters has a reputation for understanding civil engineering better than anyone, there's not a single thing to fault.”
“I am sorry, my lord.”
“However, you've overlooked one thing.”
Jeong Bun's gaze changed, as if his civil-engineering obsession had been triggered.
If I had been at the same senior fifth-rank level as this guy, he would have charged me right then and there.
If he didn't give me a convincing answer, I would've protested even if I were the king.
He looked ready to file a direct memorial to the throne.
“What is it that you don't like?”
“Joseon will need at least several thousand ships going forward.”
Jeong Bun's face stiffened at the mention of several thousand ships.
Come to think of it, even maintaining 10,000 soldiers is no small feat...
I guess if I say we need several thousand ships, which cost far more money than soldiers do, it's hard to even imagine.
Jeong Bun's current state is probably like a high-end gaming rig whose CPU just got overloaded.
“Even if you add up every ship Joseon's navy currently has, it won't come to 200.”
“That's true. But to carry out the Bang-won Method successfully, we need that many ships. And 90 percent of them should be used by ordinary civilians, not warships.”
“You're saying we need to build several thousand merchant ships?”
“That's right. So for now, the Jeonhamsa shipyard is only in Incheon... but in the future, a similar shipyard will spring up in each naval command across the country.”
“...... If it's Lord Jegeom saying it, then I'll believe it.”
Even knowing full well that people might die for the sake of making money, humans still jump right in.
During the Age of Exploration, sailors engaged in the spice trade, including pepper, could make huge sums just by going to India and back.
Supposedly it was enough to buy some fields and a house back home, hire tenant farmers, and live as a solid middle-upper-class family in the area.
Still, most sailors came back with that huge pile of money and blew it all on pleasure.
So would Joseon's merchants be any different from them?
Everyone in Joseon knows that the navigators who came over from Tsushima (pirates before they were naturalized) know the route past Taiwan and on to Southeast Asia.
Those seduced by greed will risk their own lives to become rich.
'Then they'd make it all the way to India and back.'
“Our Joseon people will be going as far as India before long.”
Jeong Bun burst out laughing at my words.
“You're quite the joker, Lord Jegeom. India? India is 90,000 li away from Joseon. How on earth are we supposed to get there?”
“Because human greed has no end.”
I estimate about twenty years.
At this rate, assuming the current trend continues, I think they'll really be making it to India in about twenty years...
“Anyway, this blueprint is far too small. It takes at least three months, and as long as half a year, to build one bokseon. At this scale, you'd only be able to make about ten ships in six months.”
“Wouldn't that be more than enough?”
“Expand the design so you can build at least twenty ships in half a year—no, thirty in an emergency. They say preparedness prevents trouble; if you make the preparations, there'll be nothing to worry about.”
Even if this is a state facility, there's no need to build only ships for state use.
Joseon already uses it to train soldiers attached to the navy while also transporting goods for civilian merchants.
Even if they don't go as far as building warships like panokseon, there’s no problem with making bokseon for civilian use.
No, waiting until private citizens themselves build a shipyard that requires enormous capital on their own would be inefficient.
It's a hundred times more efficient for the state to build the shipyard, hire the people to run it, and then take money from merchants to make them 'merchant ships.'
“No—expand it so you can build as many as forty ships.”
“Lord Jegeom, if we do that, the treasury will run dry. The Ministry of Taxation officials already complain endlessly that Jeonhamsa spends too much money...”
“Why must Jeonhamsa's shipyard only build transport ships and warships? Couldn't we take money from merchants who need ships and make bokseon for them too?”
“...... If they're not warships used by the military and we build ships without mounting weapons like cannons, it doesn't seem like there'd be a major problem.”
“If building one bokseon costs a total of 350 seom of rice, then we can sell it to the merchants for 550 seom. Then we'd have a profit of 200 seom per ship, which could cover part of the money needed by Jeonhamsa and the court.”
We make a profit of 200 seom of rice, and merchants don't have to bear the burden of building and maintaining a shipyard themselves.
In other words, it's a deal that benefits everyone.
That's exactly the kind of win-win deal this is.
“I'll submit a memorial to His Majesty myself. Joseon needs a great many ships, so I'll ask him to grant permission for Jeonhamsa to take money from merchants and build ships for them.”
“...... As expected of Lord Jegeom.”
Of course he'll approve it, so once approval comes through, I'll immediately scrape together every bit of money my father-in-law and I can use and place a construction order.
Demand for ships and their value are obviously only going to keep soaring... If we don't do this, we're just fools.
“Prepare things so we can build fifty ships at the same time. And make sure the new division-of-labor process I came up with is followed strictly.”
To spark an industrial revolution, you have to set up 'factory-style handicraft production' before the steam engine.
That way, you can put machines into the factory instead of people and actually have an industrial revolution.
“Then I'll go over to where Master Jang is.”
I headed over to where Jang Yeong-sil was.
Jang Yeong-sil was in the middle of a deep discussion with the Ming craftsmen.
“I can see that you all assemble the planks first and then drive in the keel and the rest of the frame. Joseon does it that way too, but honestly, it's inefficient. So from now on, let's make the keel and frame first, then fit the planks and the like into them.”
“That's different from the way we've been doing it...”
“Even when building a house, you raise the pillars and beams first, and only then can you pack the walls with earth and put on the roof. So, take a chance and try building just one ship the way I said.”
As expected of Jang Yeong-sil—throw him into a shipyard and he comes up with the highly efficient techniques used in the Venetian Arsenal all on his own.
Now I just need to write the memorial.
And a few days later, I was summoned to the inner audience hall.