< Episode 10: Sprouting… or Spreading Like Cancer? (3) >
After the "bidding briefing session regarding the Gold Pens" ended, the merchants left the Ministry of Taxation one by one. Just before crossing the main gate, an elderly merchant spoke to one of the ministry officials.
"Sir."
"What is it?"
"How old is His Royal Highness the Crown Prince this year?"
"He is eight."
"Heo~."
As the merchant failed to hide his astonishment, the young official of the Ministry of Taxation spoke with a voice full of pride.
"He is truly remarkable. His Majesty is no ordinary sovereign, and with the Crown Prince being so brilliant as well, it is a great blessing for our Joseon."
"Indeed."
After bowing to the official and stepping out onto the main road, the merchant suddenly felt anger boiling inside him.
"Someone else's child is so dignified at eight! But that brat I call my grandson!"
At the same time, the Eastern Palace.
Returning to his quarters, Yi Hyang faced a man. It was the very man who had earlier driven out the merchant.
"You've done well, Eunuch Jo."
"It was nothing, Your Highness. But was it truly necessary to go this far?"
"Given my young age, there was no other choice."
Considering Yi Hyang's age, Eunuch Jo nodded and rose, offering a bow.
"I shall take my leave and change clothes."
"You've worked hard."
* * *
As production of the Gold Pens created by Yi Hyang was privatized, the pens spread nationwide. With the Gold Pens becoming an unprecedented hit, unusual scenes began appearing.
At a noble household in Naju, Jeolla Province.
On the wooden-floored main hall of a large tiled-roof house with at least forty rooms, an elderly nobleman sat waiting for someone.
Soon, a peddler entered the courtyard carrying a large wooden chest on his back with an A-frame carrier. Setting it down, he prostrated himself deeply.
"My lord, you summoned me?"
"Yes, I did. Have you brought the Gold Pens?"
"This time, I have brought it."
"Oh! Is that so!"
At the nobleman's delighted reaction, the peddler spread a cloth on the ground and carefully took out a luxurious mother-of-pearl box from the wooden chest, placing it on the cloth.
After bowing once more toward the box itself, the peddler carefully lifted it and stepped up onto the wooden hall where the nobleman sat. When the box was placed on the desk, the nobleman exclaimed.
"Oh! This is it!"
As the moved nobleman reached out his hand, the peddler quickly stopped him.
"My lord! You must bow first."
"Ah!"
At the reminder, the nobleman hastily straightened his attire and bowed respectfully before the box.
"Your Majesty's grace is boundless, bestowing such a precious treasure upon us. I am overwhelmed with gratitude."
After expressing thanks to the king, the nobleman carefully opened the box.
Inside, lined with soft silk, lay a lacquered pen holder that gleamed and ten golden pen nibs.
On the silk lining of the lid and on the nibs themselves, the plum blossom emblem was clearly stamped.
"You must insert the Gold Pens into the pen holder like this…"
Following the peddler's explanation, the nobleman assembled the pen and dipped it into well-ground ink, then wrote characters on paper.
He wrote a favorite passage from the classics in a single, flowing stroke and exclaimed in admiration.
"Truly a noble article!"
* * *
As the Gold Pens became a major hit, the smile never left the face of the Minister of Taxation.
"The budget, the budget is increasing!"
He was not the only one smiling. The officials of the Ministry of Taxation were smiling as well.
Since the founding of Joseon—indeed, since the late Goryeo period before it—the national budget had never once been abundant.
Upon founding Joseon, royal stipends were reduced to one-sixth and officials' salaries to about one-fourth, yet the budget was still insufficient.
In such circumstances, the profits from the sale of Gold Pens were most welcome.
In reality, the amount was minor—like pouring urine on frozen feet—but even so, it slightly broadened the government's room to maneuver in state affairs.
Another positive effect was that Sejong and his ministers began taking interest in the beneficial effects of commerce.
However, beneath the surface, negative movements began to stir.
"How has the court come to resemble merchants…"
"Indeed. His Majesty and the ministers show too much favor toward commerce, which is the occupation of base people."
"Among scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, merchants rank lowest. Though legally commoners, they are scarcely different from the lowborn! At this rate, we shall repeat the bad practices of the previous dynasty!"
Orthodox Neo-Confucian scholars, dissatisfied with Sejong and the ministers showing interest after seeing the funds flowing into the state through Gold Pens sales, began voicing complaints. Soon, their criticism turned toward Crown Prince Yi Hyang.
"This matter began with the Crown Prince."
"He is still so young, yet already straying onto a misguided path… This is the fault of those responsible for his education!"
"His Majesty is also at fault. No matter how brilliant the Crown Prince may be, he is still but a child. To let him decide major affairs of state so freely—this must be corrected!"
"We must pay even closer attention to the Crown Prince's education! This is time that should be spent reading more of the sages' words, engraving them upon his heart, fostering reverence for China, and making Joseon a Little China. Instead, he concerns himself with trivial arts—this will not do!"
"We must submit a memorial at once!"
"Indeed!"
Just as these dissenters were preparing to rise up, an unexpected event halted them.
Taejong passed away.
On May 10, the fourth year of Sejong's reign (1422), Taejong died at the age of fifty-six.
During Taejong's funeral, court assemblies were suspended for ten days and the market for five.
Though state affairs continued, no memorials that might cause discord were submitted during the mourning period.
"Let us wait for another opportunity."
"Yes, we must."
Those intending to submit a memorial would have to wait.
Unaware of the turmoil beneath the surface, Yi Hyang immersed himself in reading during the funeral period.
"Hm… Is this really translated this way?"
With several books spread open at once, he compared them carefully.
The books before him were European works that had entered China, along with Chinese translations of them.
Just before the winter solstice envoy departed for China, Yi Hyang summoned the chief envoy.
"Your Highness, you called for me?"
"Yes. You must be busy preparing for the journey; I apologize for summoning you."
"Not at all, Your Highness."
After brief pleasantries, Yi Hyang spoke directly.
"I have a request."
"A request?"
"When you go to Beijing, please procure some books for me."
"Books… Which classics shall I obtain?"
"Not classics. Miscellaneous works—particularly those related to medicine. Ah! Do you know of the Western barbarians?"
"By Westerners, do you mean the colored-eye people?"
"Yes. If there are translated or original texts regarding their laws or technologies, obtain them all."
"Why would you desire the books of barbarians…"
At the envoy's uneasy expression, Yi Hyang explained.
"It is said, 'When three walk together, one can be my teacher.' And also, 'Stones from another mountain may serve to polish jade.' If something helps refine myself and govern the nation, why should we not learn from barbarians?"
"…."
The envoy fell silent.
If the person before him had been an ordinary prince, he would have advised him to read more of the classics instead. But the Crown Prince was widely acknowledged—even more formidable than his father in genius.
Before the age of six, he had mastered the Four Books and Three Classics. By seven, he had read through the Thirteen Classics.
Even at that young age, he slept less than six hours a day, studying fiercely, and by the time he was invested as Crown Prince, he was already debating policy with scholars.
Some younger officials even said:
—If the Crown Prince grows older and learns the realities outside the palace, the court will be turned upside down.
Thus, the envoy bowed.
"I shall carry out Your Highness' command with utmost loyalty."
"I entrust it to you."
After that, whenever envoys departed for Beijing, Yi Hyang made similar requests. Eventually, he even prepared detailed lists.
"These books on the list I already possess—please acquire others."
"…Understood, Your Highness."
The envoys struggled to obtain them. Although Europeans and Arabs had entered China since the Yuan dynasty, their books were not common.
* * *
"With this, the reference problem is more or less solved."
Looking at the bookshelves in his chamber, now three-quarters filled, Yi Hyang smiled faintly.
As he examined the industrial technology of Joseon during Sejong's reign, the number of ideas he could utilize steadily increased.
"The problem is, if I claim to have thought of all this myself, many will look at me suspiciously. Especially in medicine. In times like this, presenting references is better."
Thus, through envoys to Beijing, he acquired not only Chinese books but also European works that had flowed into China.
He began carefully reading European texts from the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance, as well as Middle Eastern works and their Chinese translations.
"I need to know roughly what content is in which book. Later, when I explain things, I must do so convincingly. There's a saying—'Even lies require knowledge to tell properly'."
He had learned this from the ordeal he experienced when presenting the Gold Pens.
"It is a fine object—but how did the Crown Prince conceive of such an idea?"
When Sejong asked, Yi Hyang answered immediately.
"It was because I noticed something unusual while applying ink to a brush."
"Unusual?"
"I saw the ink climbing up between the brush hairs. Water naturally flows downward, yet this defied that principle. How could that not be fascinating? From there…"
He constructed a plausible explanation of how he created the Gold Pens.
Sejong struck his knee in admiration.
"Many have used brushes, yet none have thought as you did! Is this not a prime example of investigating things to attain knowledge?"
Though the matter of the Gold Pens had passed safely, Yi Hyang knew such luck could not continue forever.
"Presenting the Gold Pens was bait—letting them know the Crown Prince has this kind of talent. I couldn't just suddenly present something out of nowhere. But 'it just happened' only works a few times. To make it more convincing, I need references."
* * *
"Your Majesty, the Crown Prince has arrived."
During Taejong's funeral, Sejong was handling state affairs in a temporary mourning hut, reviewing memorials and reports. He set down the document he was reading.
"Let him enter."
Entering, Yi Hyang bowed.
"Father. Your complexion does not look well. Have you eaten this evening?"
"The ministers insisted, so I did."
'This man!'
Internally exasperated, Yi Hyang thought:
'A meat enthusiast who can't live without meat for a single meal! Even if you cannot eat meat during mourning, you must at least eat properly!'
Suppressing his thoughts, he spoke earnestly.
"Father, you are the pillar of this nation. Though in mourning, you must still maintain proper nourishment."
"I shall. Now, what brings you here?"
"Through the envoys, I have obtained miscellaneous works of the Westerners."
"I have heard. Was there anything useful?"
"I would ask that you judge for yourself."
Sejong, who had been smiling gently as if indulging a playful son, straightened and assumed a solemn expression.
"Speak."
"Yes. I petition that we adopt the Westerners' numerals."
"The Westerners' numerals?"
"Yes. More precisely, they may be called the numerals of India. To explain in detail, these numbers originated in India and…"