King of Commerce, Yeonsan-gun Ch.41
Grabbing the Reins 2
Indeed, the Japanese envoys had no clue what to make of Kyungsik's proposed treaty.
“So, you’re saying you want to establish Joseon trade posts in Hakata and Sakai (modern-day Fukuoka and Osaka)?” they asked, bewildered.
“In short, yes,” Kyungsik confirmed.
While it seemed unusual, it wasn’t entirely out of place. The idea of establishing semi-autonomous trade towns in a foreign country, known as "fangs," had been part of East Asian commerce for centuries. For instance, in Korean history, Jang Bogo established the Shilla Bang in Tang China, and Japan currently had their own "Waegwan" in Joseon.
What was peculiar was Joseon, which had always been hesitant about trade with Japan, suddenly reversing its stance so dramatically.
The treaty Kyungsik proposed, if analyzed by someone knowledgeable in the inequalities of treaties, would have seemed outrageously one-sided.
Provisions included extraterritorial rights for Joseon citizens in Japan, tax exemptions on Joseon goods, allowing Joseon military to capture pirates in Japanese waters, permission to survey Japanese coastlines, and allowing Joseon citizens to pay any Japanese taxes in Joseon currency.
Essentially, it declared an economic dominance over Japan, transforming it into a quasi-colony of Joseon.
However, the Japanese envoys were clueless. They had entered the Sengoku period, where the central government’s laws had become meaningless and local daimyo enforced their own rules.
In cities like Sakai, the Egoshu (a self-governing organization) managed the city’s affairs, making Joseon's extraterritorial demands seem not so far-fetched.
As the shogunate couldn’t provide security for the Joseon trade posts, agreeing to Joseon's terms seemed inevitable.
Moreover, Japan lacked a concept of customs duties at that time. With their own goods being in demand, not taxing Joseon products didn’t seem problematic.
Everyone knew Japan was rife with pirates. Even in the future, their descendants would honor this legacy with globally popular pirate-themed manga. Since the shogunate couldn't protect Joseon ships, it seemed reasonable to allow Joseon to handle their own defense.
Allowing Joseon to survey the coastlines felt suspicious. In East Asia, mapping another country’s terrain usually implied preparation for invasion. The envoys speculated that this might be the real reason behind Joseon’s generous offers.
But the thought of Joseon invading Japan seemed absurd. Even the mighty Yuan dynasty couldn't conquer Japan, the “land protected by the gods.” How could a weak Joseon, which couldn’t even handle Tsushima, pose a threat?
Deciding they could stall on these matters by promising to report back to their superiors, the envoys felt this would be a minor diplomatic setback.
After all, in diplomacy, it’s often wise to delay unfavorable demands.
The stipulation that Joseon citizens could pay taxes in Joseon currency seemed like a boon. They had come to Joseon in need of its currency, so this felt almost like a giveaway.
Unlike previous treaties with Tsushima, there was no cap on the number of ships allowed, and Joseon would even dispatch officials to ensure smooth currency exchange in Japan.
This would enable the shogunate to directly benefit from the trade that previously flowed through illicit channels controlled by regional lords.
The only slightly unsettling aspect was the suggestion to establish more Joseon trade posts in the future. This would mean sharing the spoils of trade with other daimyo, but that was a problem for another day. They could always make excuses and delay.
With such an unexpected diplomatic windfall, the head of the Japanese delegation, Dengyō Shōza, couldn’t help but smile broadly.
Shortly after, a grim report arrived:
“On February 25th, four Japanese ships took advantage of the break in the rain and entered Nokdo. They killed Manho Kim Se-jun, two officers, five junior officials, and about twenty soldiers,” reported Oh Sun, the Military Commander of Jeolla Province.
The previously jubilant Japanese envoys were now sweating and scrambling to explain.
“Our country is currently in turmoil, and the central government cannot control all the refugees and outlaws. We beg for the magnanimity of the Joseon King to understand our plight.”
Despite their limited understanding of East Asian history, Kyungsik knew that Japan had entered the chaotic Sengoku period and that the central government had lost its grip.
This played right into Kyungsik’s plans.
He intended to leverage the nominal authority of the shogunate, which had no real control, to bind Japan economically to Joseon through an unequal treaty.
He aimed to support the shogunate in subduing regional daimyo, thereby increasing Joseon’s influence over Japan.
To avoid alarming the shogunate with overt power plays, he had to tread carefully.
“Do not worry. We understand your country's difficulties. Speaking of which, how about adding a clause that allows the regional daimyo to handle their own affairs with Joseon independently of your central government?”
This meant giving individual daimyo diplomatic rights with Joseon, effectively fragmenting Japan’s foreign policy.
Any modern person familiar with national sovereignty would recognize this as a strategy to weaken Japan. However, the floundering Muromachi shogunate had little room to argue.
“We will include that in our diplomatic correspondence and report it to the Japanese King,” they conceded.
Kyungsik wrapped up discussions with the Japanese envoys and called a meeting with his ministers to discuss practical measures.
Reflecting on the situation, he found it intriguing. The reign of Yeonsangun was thought to be uneventful in terms of foreign affairs, yet troubles were arising from both the north and the south.
For Joseon, the phrase “Japanese pirates raided” was almost a tautology, so this was not unexpected.
However, unlike typical Joseon responses, Kyungsik saw these incidents as opportunities to justify expansion into Manchuria and impose unequal treaties on Japan.
The proposed measures were straightforward and conventional.
“The assailants are likely from Tsushima or are Japanese residing in the Waegwan. We should send a high-ranking official to investigate alongside the Waegwan commander and demand the extradition of the culprits from Tsushima.”
“Agreed. The Six Ministries and the State Council should prepare the necessary regulations and implement them. However...”
When the king started a sentence like this, it usually meant more was coming.
Officials, especially those from the Ministry of Finance (Hojo), who had been overwhelmed by recent land surveys, braced for another heavy workload.
“With increasing relations with Japan, we must prepare for the inherent risks. The Japanese are known for their treacherous nature and may grow insolent despite our generosity.
We must counter this with firm military preparedness. Our naval forces are currently disorganized and underfunded, leading to high desertion rates. Reforming our navy is essential to maintaining peace with Japan. Let's discuss how to address this.”
In essence, Kyungsik was advocating for preparing to discipline Japan as needed to ensure a stable relationship.
The Ministry of Finance sighed with relief, as this task seemed more suited to the military than to them.
It might sound hypocritical to talk about maintaining peace with Japan by preparing to thrash them, but such language was typical in East Asia and was also a practical approach.
The officials, having recently dealt with the Jianzhou Jurchens, were resigned to the idea of Japan being next.
Kyungsik’s role models seemed to be King Sejo in his treatment of officials and King Sejong in his territorial ambitions.
Officials even started speculating on what posthumous title this king would receive. Given his conquests, something like “Sejo” seemed appropriate, though that title was already taken by a king who hadn’t expanded territory at all.
Kyungsik’s point about disciplining the Japanese was entirely reasonable. The belief that both the northern nomads and the Japanese responded best to force was a well-established Joseon view.
This king had already achieved the impossible by successfully subduing the Jurchens and profiting from it. Surely, he could do the same with Japan.
The challenge was how to reform the navy effectively.
Before Kyungsik’s arrival, the frequent suggestion was to provide salaries and funding for the navy, as their lack of pay led to corruption and desertion.
Joseon’s chronic lack of funds had made this impossible.
Kyungsik had managed to provide some salaries last year, but the impact was limited. Desertions decreased slightly, but it wasn’t a game-changer.
Kyungsik knew only the superficial problems of Joseon, such as corruption among clerks and minor officials due to lack of pay, a perspective that was overly simplistic.
While it was true that the Joseon government provided little for these groups, they did receive some compensation from local government budgets in later periods. Nevertheless, corruption persisted, especially among higher-ranking officials.
Similarly, despite providing modest salaries, Kyungsik found that corruption among those he had paid persisted.
Systemic corruption wasn’t something that could be eradicated with simple solutions. If it were, public administration wouldn’t be such a complex field.
Likewise, the navy, even with slight improvements in pay, continued their illicit activities, including fishing and salt production, just as they had before.
A notable difference was that, thanks to Kyungsik’s reforms, these activities were now more commercially oriented, with the navy engaging in trade across the country, including fur and cotton trade.
When idle, they turned to profitable side jobs, demonstrating an unexpected adaptability.
One official suggested, “We could build large ships as we did during the campaign, arm them with cannons, and assign armored soldiers to the navy.”
Kyungsik considered it, “Building ships is a good idea, but why would the elite guards (Gabsa) agree to join the navy?”
Joseon’s naval issues were not only qualitative but also quantitative.
Qualitatively, technological advancements could address some problems. Last year, Kyungsik had ordered the Ministry of Public Works and the Ministry of War to research new ship designs and tactics centered around cannons and firearms.
This had led to the development of large ships similar to the panokseon and other heavily armed vessels capable of long voyages.
However, these were still experimental, and there wasn’t a clear strategy on where to focus resources.
Quantitatively, the navy's manpower was a bigger issue.
Traditionally, naval service in Joseon was seen as "Shinryangyeokcheon" (신량역천), a harsh and lowly duty despite being a civilian task. This perception made recruitment challenging, often requiring the conscription of criminals or making the service hereditary.
Kyungsik’s interventions mainly involved downsizing. With the advent of hawmaeso (화매소, granaries) and markets, the need for porters (Jojol) decreased, leading to a reduction in their numbers.
Porters now served primarily as emergency transport for urgent goods bought by the central government from local granaries.
Recruiting "Gobo," or contracted soldiers, wasn’t particularly effective in Joseon. Their pay, although slightly better than the "Napjeoncheop" system, remained modest and insufficient to attract more than 3,000 soldiers annually. The fixed costs quickly outweighed the budget.
While the ministers failed to offer satisfactory solutions, Kyungsik turned to his "wisdom of the British Empire" for inspiration. As the world's foremost naval power, surely there were lessons to be learned.
How did the British Navy recruit sailors?
They had press gangs who frequented taverns, offering unsuspecting men a drink. Once the man finished his drink, he would find a coin at the bottom of his mug, signaling his conscription into the navy.
Drunken and unaware, he would be dragged to the barracks, where the officers would welcome him with, “Congratulations on your voluntary enlistment!”
Having taken the king’s coin, the man had unwittingly signed up for naval service.
“Hmm... not much help here. Seems similar to what we already do in Joseon,” Kyungsik mused.
Even in modern Korea, military conscription had similarities, especially for the Marines. It seemed that maritime-related recruitment issues transcended time and place.
Another European system that came to mind was "sale of offices."
In early modern Europe, selling offices became a formal method of appointment.
While it might seem surprising that such a system didn’t lead to disaster, it was an evolution from the hereditary appointment of offices among nobles. Selling positions to those who could afford them meant revenue for the crown and prevented incompetent nobles from holding office.
Considering that East Asia’s bureaucracy also functioned with minimal direct pay, the idea of selling offices made a strange sort of sense.
Kyungsik’s reforms were bringing Joseon closer to modernity, but they still had a long way to go.
His successful introduction of a currency system was largely due to his own brilliance and leveraging existing economic bases for land tax reform and market economy introduction.
True modern bureaucratic governance and a professional national military were still distant goals.
As he pondered these issues, a combination of historical knowledge and practical needs coalesced into a novel solution for Joseon’s current predicament.
At Namgang River in Jinju, a group of former porters-turned-pirates was repairing their damaged boat.
They weren’t fixing the damage from an attack by Hamyang civilians the previous year. That incident was long past.
While being a porter was a despised job, they had a knack for thievery. Even after being dismissed from military service, they became pirates but couldn’t abandon their old, battered boat, treating it almost like a comrade.
“Maybe it’s time to give up on this boat. No amount of patching will hold it together much longer,” muttered Lim Mat-saeng.
“What? So, we just abandon it? How do you expect us to survive without a boat? We need to keep fixing it while we can,” argued Gang Mak-soe.
But the pirate gang faced a dire situation.
Their benefactors, the merchants of Jinju who had once paid them to harass farmers from bringing goods to hawmaeso and markets, had now made peace with the farmers.
With their primary source of income gone, the pirates had resorted to occasional raids and selling fish to the very merchants they once worked for.
However, their string of robberies had left too many traces, and local authorities had begun putting up wanted posters.
Their only hope seemed to be abandoning piracy altogether and finding other work, though they had neither land nor skills for any other trade.
“We could always become porters if it comes to that. It’s not ideal, but at least we won’t starve,” Mat-saeng suggested, the voice of pragmatism in the group.
In the rapidly changing Joseon, there was a growing demand for labor due to the expanding market economy. Even the lowest rungs of society could find work as porters or day laborers.
Their reluctance to abandon the pirate life and the boat they had known so long seemed increasingly foolish.
Just as they were arguing, they were ambushed by a team of postal officers from Saneum.
In Joseon, local magistrates didn’t have a dedicated police force, but central government officials could mobilize postal officers as needed.
Upon receiving a tip about the pirates, the Saneum magistrate quickly dispatched officers to capture them.
The pirates, caught off guard and bound, could only bicker among themselves, blaming each other for their capture.
Their fate was quickly discussed from the Saneum magistrate to the Gyeongsang Province Governor, and finally to the central government, who debated whether they should be executed.
Given the circumstances, both the magistrate and governor recommended the death penalty, but the central officials saw another possibility.
“These men have some useful skills. Even after being dismissed from military service, they’ve managed to repair and sail a boat. Although too unruly to serve as regular porters, they could be conscripted into the new naval force we’re creating to combat piracy.”
In other words, they could be enlisted into the newly established "Naval Trading Company," which was a guise for a privateering fleet.
The Jinju pirates had inadvertently found their true calling in Kyungsik’s evolving Joseon.
Creating jobs for the people was one of Kyungsik’s undeniable talents.
Notes:
*1: The bewilderment of the Japanese envoys over Kyungsik's proposed treaty mirrors the real historical reactions of East Asian countries to the unequal treaties imposed by Western powers in the 19th century.
In the Nanjing Treaty, which forced China to cede territory and grant extraterritorial rights, the Qing Dynasty saw these terms as relatively standard for pre-modern diplomatic agreements, not grasping their full implications.
Similarly, during the Ganghwa Treaty negotiations, Joseon suspected foul play but ultimately didn’t recognize the treaty's inequities until much later.
Japan’s lack of awareness regarding the impact of foreign currency policy further emphasizes the historical struggles of East Asian nations in understanding and negotiating with Western powers.
This light novel uses historical events and speculative fiction to create a narrative that blends past realities with imagined outcomes.
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