7. The Passing Scholar (2)
A bad premonition always comes true.
It's become a sort of cliché phrase, but if you look closer, it's actually more complicated.
People tend to overestimate the likelihood of positive outcomes in the future while underestimating negative ones.
Classic examples include gambling, lotteries, stocks, and gacha games. Businesses that humans, if objective, would never succeed in.
That's not necessarily bad. Hope is an essential driving force in life.
But still, if a bad premonition arises, it likely has a solid basis strong enough to break through the protective mechanism called hope.
The same goes for me.
When the Crown Prince summoned me, I didn't feel surprised, though I was reluctant. I had anticipated it.
In other words, it was a feeling of "what was coming has come."
Fifteen days before the scheduled regency, the Crown Prince summoned me to the Crown Prince's residence with just a single word.
It was the opposite of the hope that someone like me might have been forgotten, thanks to the scheduled regency (which the Crown Prince couldn't be unaware of) and the customs surrounding the Crown Princess.
It was proof that the Crown Prince possessed more inherent authority than I had imagined.
As a modern person with historical knowledge and as Kim Unhaeng, instilled with a vague reverence for the palace, I never thought he could do this without the king's permission.
Well, my assumptions were naive. Among the offenses of Crown Prince Sado recorded in history was that he had dragged thugs and ruffians into the Crown Prince's residence.
If he did such things, it meant that the Crown Prince at least had the power to decide who could stay in the residence.
This was the Crown Prince's territory. Yi Hwon, too, was a prince of the kingdom—not merely a powerless son tormented by his father until madness and execution.
The Crown Prince's excuse this time was, "I wish to discuss scholarly cultivation with Junjae, who ranked first in the state exam."
Ah, well. Very positive.
Much better than the later Crown Prince Sado, who would indiscriminately gather clowns, shamans, courtesans, and thugs to hold an entirely indecent mosaic-covered party. He hadn't fallen that far yet.
But if he's talking about discussing scholarship, why does he need bows, arrows, and this wide courtyard?
"Archers, line up!"
Flags rose, and the drums and gongs sounded loudly. Though simpler than the Grand Archery Ceremony performed by the king, the form was similar.
Of course. He was fourth in the country's protocol hierarchy.
Considering that the Queen Dowager and Queen couldn't easily project power outside the palace, he was effectively second from the perspective of the subjects.
I could not fail to show him the respect befitting that rank. I approached the Crown Prince with the expression and posture that any sycophant would emulate.
"Truly a divine skill that even Yang Youji of Chu and General Li of Han would not dare approach. This is how His Majesty's valor is revealed before you."
It wasn't entirely false flattery. A small part of it was sincere.
Crown Prince Yi Hwon had a large build, like Park Ji-won. Where Park Ji-won seemed kindly and soft, this one seemed firm. Perhaps from a wealthy upbringing?
Even his exposed wrists and arms didn't seem like those of a mere noble.
Pulling a bow requires substantial upper body strength. I had heard that in games, the slender archer body type wouldn't work in reality unless body composition was completely different.
The Crown Prince lowered his bow and said,
"Now, you shoot."
I naturally declined.
"How could I display my crude skill before Your Highness and dazzle your eyes?"
But the Crown Prince was not easily dissuaded.
"Then, shall we spar in martial arts as I initially suggested? I wish to observe your staff technique closely."
"Please withdraw such excessive words. If Your Highness commands again, I can only pray to be killed."
"Then, waste no more words. You are skilled in a hundred martial arts, so a bow should be within your capability."
Hmm. I wonder if King Yeongjo will provide this precious boy with time to reflect earlier. He probably needs at least eight days to quietly contemplate there.
Anyway, the Crown Prince was right. I know how to handle a bow.
I had a skill I thought useless at the time.
I didn't want to display it in a position that brought me no benefit, but surely it was better than pointing a staff at the Crown Prince and facing execution.
I gave up and picked up the bow. Perhaps this skill wasn't meant for such a moment.
[Active Skill: Lee Seong-gye's Archery has been activated.]
Truthfully, the Crown Prince's words were misleading. A bow 'merely'…?
Archery is an advanced discipline. It takes years of practice to use effectively in combat.
Even the highest-level ultimate skill, like 'baby arrow' techniques, was said to take ten years to master, even for Koreans in the archery heartland. Even in this elven-like nation where everyone from the king to courtesans was an archer.
Thus, even today, most countries are less strict with bows compared to guns, knives, or spears.
For the same reason they don't limit hand-to-hand martial arts training. There's no reason to prohibit it unless a high-ranking judge is struck by an arrow.
A bow is not an easy weapon.
I… am an exception.
I don't know if this skill represents the idealized image of Lee Seong-gye's archery or his actual skill.
Honestly, I still think stories about Lee Seong-gye's archery are about as reliable as tales of the magistrate's teleportation.
Unlike Han Seok-bong's preserved calligraphy, no video exists showing him shooting arrows, so there's no way to verify.
Regardless, when I first practiced, I could pierce even the eyes of flying geese.
Compared to modern rifles, which I couldn't even shoot, I had to bribe a clerk to poke holes in a target with a pen—so it was astonishing.
But am I envious? If so, I'm ready to swap positions. Shoot down geese if you want; I'll just order chicken.
I didn't boast. The passing scholar hides his archery skills—and I will hide them to the end, at least in this Seoul.
The Crown Prince's archery in front of me was displayed in an almost miraculous way.
He judged the target well, then deliberately shot slightly off.
I couldn't deliberately miss like future King Jeongjo might, pretending humility, because it would be obvious.
Out of ten shots, I won once or twice, and deliberately lost the rest.
Barely. I made it obvious I tried my hardest but couldn't manage otherwise.
As in Go, letting an opponent win without notice requires being several moves ahead. Fortunately, I met that condition.
After a while, I was exhausted, arms shaking.
"My skill cannot possibly match Your Highness."
That was no act. Even if the skill handles the technique, my body sustains it.
Once home, push-ups will be needed. My fingers feel torn, shoulders dislocated.
Fortunately, the Crown Prince seemed satisfied. Is playing with a child really this hard? Truly disgusting.
But he wasn't just an immature kid.
"I see your skill is genuine. Yet, since I summoned you, sending you away now would surely provoke rumors. Come in. Manage the chill in the quarters and recite a few poems before returning."
Good. Today, the two of us spent the day engrossed in poetry. That explanation suffices. Other palace members seemed to have roughly understood the mood.
I followed the Crown Prince inside, relieved.
Though it was a charade, perhaps he anticipated someone might enter, so he looked for a book to use as decoration.
I quietly wondered why no attendants entered.
It seemed the Crown Prince was not meticulous about tidiness. Something fell, and books tumbled.
"Your Highness, is your body unharmed?"
Even if injured, I threw myself at the Crown Prince's side to protect him, a loyal act, not an attempt to impress.
But my movement was too fast.
The Crown Prince flinched and reached out to stop me.
By then, I had already scooped up the contemptible books covering his feet.
These books were truly audacious.
Opening the shelves, I was shocked by the extremely explicit illustrations.
As Joseon rarely encountered such material, the impact was intense.
Even the hidden titles inside the covers were shocking.
"≪Byeonichae≫…?"
This legendary hardcore BL novel? Why here?
You… seeing this?
After the commotion, the Crown Prince dismissed everyone and sat down with me alone.
Unsure what to say, I decided to comfort him.
"Even if we overlook ≪Jinpingmei≫, ≪Yichunxiangzhi≫… These are rare books in Yan Jing due to imperial restrictions. The bindings and covers are exquisite. Truly remarkable works."
"…You, having topped the state exam, are indeed knowledgeable in all literature past and present."
Sorry, but this is the knowledge of a hero from another world.
All of these books are extremely explicit erotic novels.
Let's avoid mentioning that, except for ≪Jinpingmei≫, none involve women. Respecting diverse tastes is a modern virtue.
I recalled modern historical research I'd encountered.
Many focus only on Crown Prince Sado's death.
But Yi Hwon also had a life, and works that burned brightly.
The ≪Collection of Chinese Novels≫ was compiled with faithful illustrations and prefaces, introducing classical Chinese novels.
Why wasn't it well known? In modern terms, it's like a wiki documenting adult shock sites—so not exactly prestigious.
It was only recognized as Sado's work in the 2000s.
The author of the preface called themselves only 'Wansan Yi' to conceal their identity. Why hide it? Shame. By the era's standards, these novels were far from respectable. Erotic content could lead to punishment; whether homosexual or heterosexual was secondary.
And Crown Prince Sado collected almost exclusively such works for the ≪Collection of Chinese Novels≫. Some 'safe' novels like ≪Romance of the Three Kingdoms≫ or ≪Water Margin≫ appeared too, but the intention was clear when the real works came later.
His literary skill had been accumulating from this time.
I believe the collection was completed just days before he was put in a coffin.
I realized why no one followed me into the Crown Prince's room. That way, he could control access.
I wanted to tease him, but teasing would be fatal. I lowered my voice and head.
"I swear on the Heavens to keep this secret. Youthful desires are natural; Your Highness need not worry."
Paradoxically, if it's not shameful, why keep it secret?
Well, even if elementary sex education says there's no shame, no student shows hidden folders to their parents.
Before the Crown Prince noticed my paradox, I lifted my head slightly, wearing a grave expression. He returned the same expression.
"What is it you desire?"
Hmm? He's quick to the point. Understandable; he likely doesn't want his soon-to-be wife or the imagined father witnessing this.
I had no intention to manipulate secrets for gain, but if offered first, the conversation changes.
I didn't reveal my true desires yet. I spoke words contrary to my thoughts.
"What would I desire? Rather, I deserve death for disturbing Your Highness's peace. Though I passed the state exam with honor, I behaved arrogantly."
"You mean you know I drew your poetry rights?"
No, I meant it was thanks to the king, not him—but whatever.
"All in awe."
"Don't find it odd. I've never left the palace until fifteen. I relieve my tense body with martial arts and my lonely mind with books… Anyway. You likely know the regency will soon occur."
The complaining Crown Prince soon composed himself and proposed a deal.
"Though I begged repeatedly, my father would not forgive. As small regent, I must obey orders. I can do a small favor for you. You have yet to be reinstated after dismissal. Shall I send you back to the Office of the Royal Secretariat?"
No, silly. That's no profit. Ah, he doesn't know my household finances.
I sighed internally, wondering how to hint at my wishes subtly yet understandably.
Although the regency system was politically misused by several kings, it was a useful institution due to the monarch's lifetime position. In Joseon, it functioned several times effectively.
Even if Yeongjo started the regency to bother his son and control ministers, it had to be formally observed.
On the 20th day of the first lunar month, the regency order fell as scheduled.
On the first night, the court split between the main ruler and the small ruler, two kings reigning concurrently.
If the small ruler only handled ordinary affairs while the main ruler handled major ones, it would be clear the Crown Prince was foolish.
He showed humility by consulting the main ruler even for minor matters. I'd do the same.
Yet Yeongjo became angry, thinking, "Then why have a small ruler?"
Handle matters arbitrarily, and he'd think, "Now he thinks he's king!" and become angry.
In February, he even lectured the Crown Prince, warning him not to emulate Emperor Cheng of Han by being virtuous in public but decadent in private.
Of course, the erotic folder wasn't discovered. Why would the Han emperor watch that?
Emperor Cheng indulged in two beautiful sisters, excessive aphrodisiacs, and pleasures unsuitable for the records, dying as a result.
A father lecturing his newlywed son? Even with the regency on the first night? Yeongjo transcended history. He was a bastard.
Despite struggles, the Crown Prince fulfilled his promises. Perhaps he wanted to quickly win me over, knowing I could complicate his situation if I spoke carelessly.
Was his eventual execution triggered by Na Kyung-eon's accusation?
Of course, I have no intention of exposing the Crown Prince. In Joseon, reporting royal misconduct? First, the "arrogant traitor" would contract a VIP lawyer.
Yeongjo acknowledged Na Kyung-eon's loyalty but still punished him. It's rebellion.
Execution followed. Such is status. Governance and morality are secondary.
Hence, I lost interest in the Crown Prince's erotic folder. Kids will be kids.
Instead, my servants, Jangbok and Eoji, packed my things, whistling. The Crown Prince's gifts were included.
Jangbok audaciously sighed heavily.
"My lord… How are you so cheerful leaving your hometown? Your hardships are evident. What did you do in the Crown Prince's residence?"
"Silence your mouth. Don't presume the intentions of the Crown Prince. Know only that your master passed the state exam."
"If I attempt the exam twice, I'll die on the streets."
"You're capable of anything, Eoji."
"Hit… hit him?"
"Give him a good thrashing. Perhaps he ate poorly during Daeboreum."
"Ah! Ah! I… I was wrong. Eoji, you… agh!"
"Anyone hearing this would think we're heading to Samsu Gap-san. Walking merely to Cheonan? Such fuss!"
In February that year, I was appointed magistrate of Mokcheon-hyeon in Chungcheong Province.
Rank-wise, it's junior sixth grade. The Crown Prince handled it neatly.
Though as the top state exam graduate, I could have been mid-sixth grade by law, my previous dismissal reduced the rank by one step.
Still, sixth grade. From my former eighth-grade hereditary status, it didn't seem a demotion.
But as the top exam graduate, it was different.
Like assigning a top national exam scorer to a provincial office instead of a central policy post.
Moreover, a county magistrate, not the higher-ranked governor, was perceived as near exile. Even high officials reassigned for punishment often received such posts.
Thus, entrenched aristocrats, including Hong Bong-han, were satisfied.
A haughty young man, relying only on his writing skill, defied them and was expelled.
Likely why King Yi Geum allowed it.
Politics is like dance; you advance, then withdraw. Yeongjo wanted to balance the court, not expect too much from me or the Andong Kim clan.
In other words, the outcome wasn't simply trading the Crown Prince's secret erotic books.
It was the product of Yeongjo's political taste for ambiguous situations and coinciding court circumstances.
Not a bad result for me.
Mokcheon-hyeon itself was unremarkable.
But being a magistrate didn't mean being confined there.
Well, technically, you shouldn't leave your jurisdiction, but… with a little cunning, our family's wealth could flourish.
Not greed—being Prime Minister requires funds. Even a minor councilor in Korea struggles; imagine the Prime Minister.
And with Crown Prince Sado going astray and facing aristocratic hatred, temporary avoidance was wise.
Untangling the entanglement was necessary. Also, to rise to senior official positions, provincial service was mandatory.
I checked my status screen at the moment of appointment.
[Second mandatory objective activated.][Mandatory Objective: Acquire the Stele of Merit (Hidden bonus objective: 1)]
I smiled inwardly.
Apparently, this game-like system responds to my choices.
After sabotaging my seat at the Myeonsin ceremony, the target to pass the state exam activated, considering my ruined path south.
Since completing the first mandatory objective, the second hadn't appeared until I solidified my path.
Now appointed a provincial official, the goal to obtain the stele appeared.
Both mandatory objectives were triggered by my decisions.
Ah, I hadn't checked the bonus objective.
Thanks to 'foresight' from topping the exam, I could see it—normally invisible.
As Jangbok grudgingly loaded the luggage, I revealed the hidden bonus objective.
Jangbok turned at my foolish scream.
"Did you step on a snake too early in January?"
Even with his cynical question, I remained silent.
The status screen visible only to me seemed to mock me.
[Hidden Bonus Objective: Hold your own wedding]
Could this be a punishment for using the kid for leverage?