Chapter 7: The Chundangdae Avengers (1)
Not long after, the long-awaited news finally arrived.
It was that, very soon, the Chundangdae Examination (春塘臺試), the one-day imperial exam held at Chundangdae in Changdeokgung with the king in attendance, would be conducted. It was an extraordinary exam, not previously scheduled.
The royal decree came from our esteemed king the very same who, a decade later, would murder his own son through tortures fit for a horror movie. It read as follows:
"I have recently heard absurd reports that young officials have been wielding clubs and brawling in government offices. Even though they hold minor posts such as Jeongja (正字) or Juseo (主書), they are clearly different from lower clerks and miscellaneous servants. How can such behavior be dismissed as youthful impulsiveness alone?"
Show dignity, you say? I don't need that lecture from you.
"It is sufficient for me to manage them with but a single word. However, looking back at the records of past monarchs, they always preferred moral guidance to coercion through punishment."
Ah, so the high-ranking officials had lukewarm reactions to expanding corporal punishments (even ones they had once endorsed). I see—they didn't want to waste legitimacy over trivial matters, nor accrue political debts to opposition factions.
"Therefore, I shall personally attend Chundangdae, both to lead the scholars on the correct path and provide them with motivation to dedicate themselves to study. Ah! My subjects must carefully heed my intentions so as not to err."
A few crimson appointment slips thrown as a preemptive "shut it down" for family or factional quarrels—well, that's straightforward enough.
Of course, I didn't hear the royal decree firsthand. Park Ji-won relayed it, having learned it from his grandfather.
Park Ji-won laughed as he recounted the king's words.
"Sir, with just a wave of the royal rod, the path ahead for all scholars is suddenly illuminated. Ah, it seems a poem might emerge from this!"
I grimaced.
Politically speaking, King Yeongjo had sensed the dissatisfaction of other ministers regarding the reinstatement of the four chief ministers and the welfare of their descendants. So, as usual, he was scattering some exam passes to pacify discontent. Passing the Chundangdae exam didn't automatically guarantee appointment, so distributing certificates carried no real burden.
Perfect. All I need right now is a crimson slip.
Even if Park Ji-won mocked me, I didn't care. This was a matter of the soul. In a way, I had already carved my path to the future.
Since rumors were spreading, the official announcement would come later. And based on precedent, delays were almost guaranteed, likely at least twice—so there was plenty of time before the actual exam.
Park Ji-won spoke again.
"Now that it has been widely announced via royal decree, the extraordinary exam will definitely occur. You must dedicate yourself to your studies even more from here on."
"Indeed. Have I mentioned that the distinguished scholar sent by the Vice Minister was exceptionally talented?"
"Yes. My grandfather called you 'one who understands my intentions,' though I am unsure what he meant."
Ha. That's because you're still young.
I didn't need to explain further. He would understand in time, or my grandfather would teach him. Instead, I focused on diligent study, just as I had promised Park Ji-won.
And I truly did study.
From dawn to dusk, my father praised my fervor as my ink-stained sheets piled up, my older brother grew jealous, and my mother fretted over my health, sending people to procure medicinal tonics.
Of course, all I was doing was practicing writing quickly.
Unlike passive skills, active skills required focus and practice to increase proficiency. If passive skills were raw strength, active skills were like sports or martial arts.
Two months later, I could emulate the handwriting of Seokbong Han-ho a nearly perfect printed-style script—at three times the usual speed.
At this level, I was among the best scribes in Joseon. Even as a mercenary for other exams, I'd be more than competent. It was fortunate I couldn't afford additional scribes, having spent all my budget on Go Bong-hwan.
No one on my raid team was aiming for government posts, so there was no need to duplicate papers. I had to maximize this advantage. My goal was to rank within the first ten.
By autumn, roughly half a year after my arrival in Joseon, the Chundangdae exam was officially confirmed. And I, too, had completed all preparations.
After bidding farewell to my parents, I arrived at Changdeokgung, where the exam would be held.
The crowd of examinees was similar to that of the exam held a decade prior.
King Yeongjo had reigned the longest and overseen the most exams in Joseon, and the strategies and patterns of previous tests were already input through our top instructor, Go Bong-hwan. As for last year's extraordinary Chundangdae exam, there was no need to say more.
So even this overwhelming, premodern-scale crowd did not faze me. The last official count was over fifteen thousand regular candidates.
Looks like roughly fifty thousand here; actual examinees might be about ten thousand. The number could increase if fools come alone. Within expectations.
As Go Bong-hwan had said, normally candidates had to pass the preliminary exam, be a student at Sungkyunkwan, or be registered via recommendation. The sheer number here should be impossible. But by this era, identity checks were lax, which is why I knew early on that Go Bong-hwan himself wasn't seeking office.
I scanned the scene.
Even low-level officials of the capital—though technically at the bottom—still held higher social status than most. They were invisible in the chaos outside Changdeokgung.
Only clerks barked orders, and servants scurried about. Some examinees, unable to wait, were clubbed at the gate.
The main gate would open any moment.
Is this how a soldier feels waiting for the first cannon fire of battle?
I took a deep breath and surveyed my trusted companions.
First, Uji had regained much of his composure after working in normal conditions. His speech was still awkward, but he understood and acted without issue.
His topknot neatly arranged, he looked respectable—like a supporting bodyguard in a historical drama. Broad-shouldered and tall, he had the dependable presence that Joseon maidens adored.
He seemed trustworthy to me as well, wielding a massive umbrella with ease like a weapon.
The umbrella, necessary for long hours at the exam, had been specially reinforced by me for additional purposes. It had cost a fair amount.
I patted Uji on the shoulder.
"Do well today, and I'll make sure you feast like a king. Deal with anyone blocking our path."
Uji memorized my words as if receiving an oracle.
"Anyone blocking the path, all of them. I will drive them away."
"Yes. Let me reiterate: no exceptions. Noble families, privileged youth, all the same. Break their limbs or crush them—leave them unable to rise. I'll handle the aftermath. We just need to reach the front."
Those wishing to critique my morals should first consider what I had staked on this exam.
Without hesitation, I then grabbed another ally's hand.
Go Bong-hwan.
Uji and Jang Bok didn't know about Gwa Byeok, so I whispered.
"Next is your turn, sir."
"Rest assured. If we succeed, as promised…"
"Not only will you be rewarded handsomely, but all families with connections to my peers or father will compete to recruit you."
As a young instructor, Go Bong-hwan needed recognition more than wealth. I promised both, leveraging my father's network, remnants of the once-powerful North faction.
Finally, I turned to our apothecary's helper, Jang Bok.
"I won't leave you out either. I know the secret glances you've shared with Lady Song's maid. When I pass, I swear I'll tell your father to arrange a match. But your role—carrying supplies, moving swiftly, responding in real time—might be the hardest. Do not falter or act without initiative."
The overall command fell to Jang Bok. He struck his chest.
"Though ignorant, I have served with my master since he first tied his topknot. Even as a servant, I can act like an old retainer. Leave it to me."
"Good."
This team was invincible. We were the best in Joseon.
Even in the throngs outside, I remained undaunted. No one was more desperate than I.
A long shout and the clang of a bell signaled the gate's opening.
I clenched my fist and shouted.
"Let's move. Uji, your turn!"
"Kraaaah!"
With Uji's roar, we all surged forward.
According to Go Bong-hwan, seeing so many scrambling likely meant the king had already returned to the palace. After all, he wasn't required to attend personally.
Controlling the crowd now would be impossible, and doing so would undermine the purpose of the extraordinary exam: to motivate the students. Yet leaving it unchecked risked security issues. Not assailants—troublesome citizens were the problem.
Some tried to present offerings to gain positions. Even two years ago, a scholar named Hong Cheon-bo had offered royal letters from past kings to gain a minor post.
"Too bad. I hoped to glimpse the king, even from afar."
Go Bong-hwan sighed, but I felt no regret. It allowed us to act freely.
"What is that monster?!"
"Who dressed a beast in human clothes?!"
Despite cries from trampled scholars and servants, Uji paid no mind.
"Move!"
Three men attacked him at once. He flung them off like an elite football player, all at once. One unlucky soul stepped on his calf and screamed—a likely lifetime limp. My condolences.
I knew his strength, but not to this degree. Adrenaline made him far stronger than usual. People flew like leaves—or how could humans be pushed meters away without injury? Cartoon physics.
"By heavens… what kind of god is this?"
Go Bong-hwan ran alongside, dumbfounded.
Uji efficiently cleared the obstacles with one hand swinging the umbrella, another grabbing and tossing, and kicking those in his path. Within moments, a team of eight was eliminated. Panic opened a clear path.
"Now! Run, Jang Bok!"
"Understood!"
Carrying my exam scrolls, Jang Bok shot forward like an arrow. We followed Uji. Smooth. Perfect.
Suddenly, a man's fist struck Jang Bok's jaw. He spun and hit the ground, a spectacularly dynamic fall.
But there was no time to ponder. The burly man, like a bandit, flexed his fist further.
"Ruffians! You're just children, yet so reckless in the king's presence. I've heard scholars can be violent it's true."
Go Bong-hwan and I flinched. Was this a royal guard? Deployed to maintain order?
Oddly, he had no official insignia or sword, and his attire was neither civil nor military.
Noticing my silence, he continued smoothly.
"Clearly, you are of a humble family. Henceforth, only sons of the Gyeonggi inspector may pass here. If you read yet fail to know hierarchy, General Yi Gwi-seo, who crushed rebels during Musin Year, will teach you manners!"
Musin Year? A veteran from Yi In-jo's rebellion?
Though likely in his forties, he remained muscular. Apparently, age differences mattered less individually.
Why was he acting as an enforcer for the Hong Bong-han household?
Go Bong-hwan quietly explained.
"Many soldiers who served were never listed for rewards. He's probably one who wasn't officially recognized and had to work elsewhere. The Gobu county magistrate once dismissed him for corruption; this must be him."
Indeed, Joseon's soldiers were owed recognition, but the state was a civil official country… and poor. Complaints continued for decades, unresolved.
No wonder a former magistrate now acted as an enforcer. Joseon's hierarchy was unforgiving.
I will handle this, I thought.
"Guido… wait. Calm and listen. The youths acted rashly, but surely they didn't fail to recognize a minister."
I had ordered Uji to crush anyone, but not the Hong Bong-han household. One word sufficed: they were untouchable.
"I shall not act insolently before the esteemed consort, Hye-kyung Hong. We will follow your lead. Indeed, we may proceed together for assistance."
Even as I spoke, rage blazed within—crimson as the revolutionary banner in my heart. Eternal curse on the corrupt royal faction in the name of the people.
Guido stroked his mustache arrogantly.
"Even villains can honor Heaven if repentant. I understand. Then…"
Suddenly, a chilling scream erupted.
"Ahhh! You! You did it!"
Uji roared in fury at Jang Bok being knocked down.
I watched in horror as Uji barreled forward, intent on crushing anyone in his path.
Since when did their friendship become this solid?