-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The 19th Century and Joseon (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
There was a time when a "Modern-Day Heungseon Daewongun's College Entrance Exam Report Card" became a hot topic on the internet.
If I recall correctly, every subject was a top grade, except for English, which was a complete disaster.
People laughed and gave it the nickname "Modern-Day Heungseon Daewongun."
That incident alone clearly shows the image the Daewongun has among modern people.
A man who excels at everything else but lives with a complete wall between himself and the outside world.
An icon of late Joseon's isolationism, whose very existence symbolizes the refusal of diplomatic ties with foreign nations.
He could be called a living textbook who was present for every event in the twilight of Joseon, from the era of Sedo politics to the Gabo Reform and the establishment of the Korean Empire.
In truth, there were four figures in the Joseon Dynasty called "Daewongun," but none possessed the same presence as this Heungseon Daewongun.
As a result, the title "Daewongun" was typically used as a proper noun referring specifically to him.
And now, a man like that stands before me, in the form of a young boy who looks nothing like his portraits.
I felt not only a sense of wonder but also a faint thrill of being part of a moment in history.
"What are you staring at? Is there something on my face?"
"No, sir. I was just lost in thought for a moment, as I believe I've heard the Young Master's name somewhere before."
"You've heard my name?"
Something seemed to bother him, as the future little Daewongun muttered under his breath and frowned.
"Could it be that my name is so well-known that even a slave of the Vice Minister of Rites has heard of it? This is not good…"
"Ah, that's not it. It was more like I heard it in passing somewhere? Just something like that."
"Is that so? Then I suppose it doesn't matter. In any case, returning to our earlier conversation, it will all end in vain, so you should give up. I'm saying this for your own good. I have no particular obligation to tell you this, but hearing that you've been at it for years, I felt pity for you. They say a dull mind makes for a weary body, and you seem to be the perfect example. Tsk, tsk, tsk."
"Is it because I have the blood of a Yang-i?"
"Of course. A slave with the blood of a Yang-i. And seeing your age, you can't be more than ten. Do you really think any scholar-official would take the words of such a young child seriously?"
He was right.
It was a fact proven by the big data I had gathered from years of fruitless efforts since awakening to my past life.
But my desire to secure a powerful backer, far from weakening, burned even more fiercely.
And why wouldn't it? A big shot I couldn't afford to miss had appeared right before me on his own two feet.
In about twenty years, when Gojong ascends to the throne, this boy will become the Daewongun of Joseon and wield true power.
Could there be anyone in Joseon right now with better potential to win over?
If so, I needed to make a good impression here, somehow.
"At the very least, the person standing before me was kind enough to speak to me."
"Hmm? Are you perhaps referring to me?"
"Yes."
"Just like a Yang-i, you've got some nerve. But even if someone recognizes your worth, you are ultimately the private slave of the Lord Vice Minister of Rites. Shouldn't gaining your master's acknowledgment be your first priority?"
As if I hadn't tried that.
The Vice Minister of Rites, Lord Kim, who was my master by status, was a man of considerable power who had been on a successful streak ever since returning from a mission to the Qing Dynasty ten years ago.
However, he seemed to be quite displeased with my existence, born from his personal maid's affair with another man.
Moreover, he was a Confucian traditionalist to the bone, so no matter how I tried to display my abilities, he would consistently ignore me.
"If there is a lord who values my abilities, might he not purchase me? Under him, there might even be a chance to strive for emancipation."
"That would imply you possess such value, but you are far too ignorant of reality. Is it because of your Yang-i blood?"
Just like the man who would later erect anti-foreigner monuments, he kept saying "Yang-i, Yang-i," making a mixed-blood like me feel awful.
"If you speak with me for just a little while, Young Master, you too will think differently."
"Is that so? Well then, I have some questions of my own, so I might as well satisfy my curiosity. How in the world can a slave of Yang-i descent who speaks the language of Joseon so fluently exist in this land?"
"When my lord went to Qing as an envoy, a Qing official is said to have requested my lord's personal maid. That woman was my mother. Have you perhaps heard of England… no, Yeonggilli?"
"I know of it, Yeonggilli. A rising power in Europe, is it not? Do you think I would not know of a country that you do?"
The future Daewongun, Yi Ha-eung, retorted sharply.
"Yes. The one who made the request was said to be an English nobleman, my father. I suspect the Qing official made such a request to Lord Kim to get closer to the man who would be my father."
"Aha. So you were born from the events of that day. The Vice Minister must not have been very pleased."
A slave was strictly the private property of their master.
For another person—a Western barbarian, no less, even if he was a nobleman—to take her would have been more than just unpleasant; it was a humiliation.
It was something that would never have happened had the request not come from a Qing official with whom he needed to maintain close ties.
The problem was, as if that weren't unpleasant enough, the maid had ended up pregnant.
"At first, my lord intended to hand me over to my biological father and receive compensation. But unfortunately, the man had already returned to his home country. With no way to send a message from this land of Joseon to a nobleman in faraway England, he gave up."
In a way, I could understand why the Vice Minister paid me no mind.
My very existence was a trigger that brought back memories of a past unpleasantness, for which he hadn't even received proper compensation.
Just looking at me would probably twist his insides and make his irritation soar.
Of course, understanding it didn't mean I forgave him.
What a petty man.
"Hearing your story, it does seem unlikely that the old lord would ever value you. So you're looking for someone on the outside to recognize you. I understand the sentiment. However, as I said before, the fact remains that it is a futile effort."
"And as I said before, if you have a proper conversation with me, you will change your mind."
"A conversation? Very well, let's talk. The *Great Learning*… you wouldn't have read it, would you? Have you finished the *Lesser Learning*?"
Sheesh, he's coming in strong right from the start.
I wondered what we would talk about, and of all things, it had to be the Four Books and Three Classics.
"I know the *Thousand Character Classic*, more or less."
"*The Analects* or *Mencius*?"
"I have never read them."
"The *Doctrine of the Mean*? Have you read even one of the *Classic of Poetry*, the *Book of Documents*, or the *Book of Changes*?"
My head was spinning.
While I had at least a superficial knowledge of economics, accounting, architecture, and even law, I honestly had never even considered delving deep into Confucianism.
Why? Because I never had to swindle a Confucian scholar, nor did I ever have a reason to appear like a Confucian scholar to a swindler.
The problem was that in the Joseon of this era, the value of *The Analects* and *Mencius* was a million times greater than the latest economics books popular in England.
"What profound conversation can I have with someone who has not even read the *Lesser Learning*, let alone the Four Books and Three Classics? This is why I said no scholar-official would lend an ear to your stories."
"Even without reading *The Analects*, I understand its fundamentals, and though I have not mastered the *Doctrine of the Mean*, I believe I can make subtle distinctions between people."
"It is your shallow understanding that allows you to harbor such arrogance. Though, of course, it would be realistically impossible for one of humble birth to read the Four Books or Three Classics."
Oh, my dear little traditionalist.
At this point in time, decades had passed since Adam Smith's *The Wealth of Nations* was published in England, and Jean-Baptiste Say was preaching Say's Law in France, yet here he was, going on about the Four Books and Three Classics.
Knowing this, maybe I should have created an opportunity to act like a Confucian stick-in-the-mud in my past life.
I had expected it to some extent, but hearing such words from a ten-year-old boy felt suffocating.
"Young Master. I have heard that the West is currently developing at a frightening pace. Though they may be Yang-i who know nothing of human decency, their technology is at a level that cannot be ignored. Even the great Qing Dynasty is said to be wary and unable to disregard Western technology."
"Did the old Vice Minister say that?"
"Yes. I recall hearing him say such things in passing."
I had no choice but to drop my master's name.
How could a ten-year-old Daewongun possibly verify the truth of my words?
It wasn't as if he could go to the residence of a Senior Third Rank official and ask if he had really said such a thing.
"Western Learning, Western Learning. That blasted Western Learning. It's true that such talk has become more frequent again lately. That our Joseon must absorb and learn from Western technology."
"If we continue like this, the gap in military power will become too wide. And if they invade with their superior weapons, I believe the humiliation we suffered from the barbarians in the past could be repeated."
"You know one thing but not the other. This very topic came up at the academy not long ago. Someone with radical ideas suggested we open our ports and bring in superior foreign culture, but that is an incredibly shortsighted thought."
As soon as the topic turned to his future specialty, isolationism, the Daewongun's expression had become serious.
He had scoffed at the idea of a conversation, but now he was the one most excited to speak.
"I admit that Western trinkets are impressive and their novelties are many. But what would happen if such things were to flow into Joseon without limit? We would only be buying their goods one-sidedly, unable to sell our own. This land's daily necessities and silver would flow out to other countries indefinitely. What kind of trade is that, what technology could we learn? It would only lead to our economy becoming subordinate to that of the Yang-i."
"You are right. A full opening of the country is out of the question. That is not what I am suggesting either."
This time, I was genuinely surprised.
He wasn't just blindly calling for isolation; he was viewing the international trade of the imperialist era with a rather proper perspective.
And this was a boy of only ten.
His micro-level details might be disastrous, but his macro-level view of the world was impeccable.
Then again, how could someone who wasn't fundamentally intelligent have molded Joseon to his will for decades as the Daewongun?
The records stating he was exceptionally learned and called a prodigy from a young age were apparently not wrong.
Just the fact that he was responding so seriously to the words of a slave his own age was enough to show that the current Daewongun was a promising child.
Though it might simply be because he was still young and lacked prejudice.
"Whether we fully open our ports or not, if we show even the slightest crack, we will eventually be forced to give up more and more. We must lock our gates completely and show no opening at all."
"Your words certainly have a point, Young Master. But wouldn't that be no different from choosing to die a slow death?"
A moment of silence fell.
Was my choice of words too strong?
Still, I couldn't help it.
That's how it is. If you're a nobody, you have to grab their attention, even if it means being provocative.
As expected, Yi Ha-eung, the future Daewongun, glared at me with an entirely different look in his eyes.
"By 'death,' do you mean to say that this Joseon is headed for ruin? Even as a lowly slave, you surely know there are lines that should not be crossed, do you not?"
Even without real power yet, he was still a member of the royal clan.
As expected, discussing the fate of the nation really pushed his buttons.
How I answered here could determine not only my future but the future of this country.
So, my answer was, of course—
"Yes. If things continue as they are, the worst outcome you can imagine will come to pass."
—to be bold and direct.