Chapter 05

That evening, I listened toward the reception hall. The sounds leaking from the servants’ quarters would have carried all the way there, and if it was Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung, he would certainly have heard them.

Sure enough, my personal servant, Gaksim, quietly approached.

“Young Master, earlier His Excellency started walking toward the servants’ quarters, but then stopped. He stood there for a while before returning to the reception hall.”

I nodded.

Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung had heard us, but he had not stopped us.

Even while refusing to abandon his plan to put his second son, Yi Myeong-bok, on the throne, he was keeping a close eye on what his eldest son, Yi Jaemyeon, was doing.

That meant Father was keeping a backup plan.

Even if Yi Myeong-bok became king, he intended to keep Yi Jaemyeon around if he proved useful. It also meant that if Yi Jaemyeon turned out to be better than Yi Myeong-bok, he might change his plans.

The fact that he had not stopped me yet meant that he had not made his decision.

My next task was to pull that decision toward my side.

Autumn 1859, Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung’s Residence, Hanseong

I sat in front of the writing cabinet, grinding ink.

It was the morning of my twelfth birthday.

I looked back over the past three years in my mind.

Queen Dowager Sinjeong, Lady Jo, had summoned me two more times, and each time we met, I could feel her trust in me gradually growing.

But it was still not enough.

Queen Dowager Sinjeong liking me and designating me as her successor were two entirely different matters.

My relationship with Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung was still unresolved, the household servants’ education in English and Japanese was still at a basic level, and I had yet to find a weakness in the Haedong Kim clan.

I needed one decisive blow.

I had to place in Queen Dowager Sinjeong’s hands the sword she had been sharpening for decades.

If I did that, Queen Dowager Sinjeong would entrust that sword to me.

And there were only four years left until King Cheoljong’s death.

My personal servant, Gaksim, knocked on the door.

“Young Master, a letter arrived from the Haedong Kim clan for His Excellency this morning.”

I put down my brush and looked up.

“Whose name was it under?”

“They said it was sent under the name of His Excellency Kim Ja-geun, the leader of the Haedong Kim clan.”

Kim Ja-geun, the leader of the Haedong Kim clan.

He was the man who had been instrumental in placing King Cheoljong on the throne and had held the Joseon court in his grip for twenty years.

My thoughts raced as I considered what it meant for him to have sent a letter to Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung.

Was it surveillance?

Or a threat?

I stood up and looked directly at Gaksim.

“Find out what the letter says by the end of today. Use whatever means necessary.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

“And, Gaksim.”

“Yes.”

“Do not tell His Excellency about this either.”

Gaksim nodded and left the room.

The leader of the Haedong Kim clan, Kim Ja-geun, had begun to move.

Which meant it was time for me to start moving in earnest as well.

Kim Ja-geun, why now?

Autumn 1859, Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung’s Residence, Hanseong

Gaksim entered my room.

“Young Master, I found out what the letter said.”

“Tell me.”

Gaksim lowered her voice.

“It said that they intended to send His Excellency a holiday gift. It also said that they would transfer a plot of land near the residence into His Excellency’s name.”

The moment I heard that the leader of the Haedong Kim clan, Kim Ja-geun, intended to give land to Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung, I instinctively knew it was not a gift.

It was a leash.

This was how the Haedong Kim clan dealt with members of the royal family.

They silenced them with money and land, tied their hands and feet, and had survived for sixty years doing exactly that.

Everything depended on money.

Moving Queen Dowager Sinjeong.

Pressuring Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung.

Standing against the Haedong Kim clan.

But Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung’s household was poor.

One of the reasons Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung pretended to be a wastrel was precisely this poverty.

Our household lived in debt.

I stood up and looked at Gaksim.

“Gaksim, have you ever picked up black stones from the hills around Siheung?”

“Black stones?”

“Stones that leave black powder on your hands when you touch them.”

Gaksim thought for a moment before nodding.

“There are stones like that around Gahaksan. The village children pick them up and play with them.”

“Bring me a basketful tomorrow.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Early Winter 1859, Road in Front of Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung’s Residence, Hanseong

As I was passing along the road in front of the residence, I noticed something crouched at the entrance to an alley.

When I approached, I saw a boy of about eight years old.

His lips had turned blue, and he was barely breathing.

I called for Gangsoe, one of the household servants.

“Carry him.”

Gangsoe put the boy on his back without a word.

We brought him into the servants’ quarters, lit a fire, and fed him warm porridge.

It was not until three days later that the boy finally opened his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“Gwidong.”

“Where did you come from?”

“I don’t know.”

He had no parents and did not even know his hometown.

I looked at Gwidong.

His eyes were strangely clear.

They were neither vacant nor frightened.

They were not the eyes I would have expected from a child who had just opened his eyes in an unfamiliar place.

“Do you know how to read?”

“A little.”

I took out the Analects and opened it.

“Read this.”

Gwidong looked at it for a moment before beginning to read fluently.

He did not stumble once.

I closed the book and opened it to another passage.

“Recite what you just read.”

Gwidong recited it exactly as written.

He did not get a single character wrong.

I closed the book and murmured inwardly.

I need this child.

Early Winter 1859, Servants’ Quarters, Heungseon-gun Yi Ha-eung’s Residence, Hanseong

I held the stones Gaksim had brought in my hand.

They were lignite.

Because they had undergone less carbonization, they produced less heat than anthracite, but they could still burn.

In Joseon, residents in some regions had used these stones as winter fuel since the seventeenth century, but they had never been properly distributed in the markets of Hanseong.

The problem was that if they were burned as solid chunks, they did not catch evenly and went out quickly.

But if they were ground into powder, mixed with clay, and molded into a consistent shape, that was another matter.

I ground the lignite into a fine powder.

Then I mixed it with clay, added a little water, kneaded the mixture, and molded it into shell-shaped pieces with both hands.

One side was rounded and the other flat.

After drying them in the shade for two days, they hardened.

The next morning, I gathered everyone behind the servants’ quarters.

There were six of them: Gaksim, household servants Dolsoe, Bokdong, and Maksoe, the servant Gangsoe, and Gwidong.

I placed one of the shell briquettes in a brazier and struck a flint.

Tak! Tak! Tak!

Sparks flew, and the shell briquette caught fire.

At first, smoke rose from it.

Then the smoke subsided, and glowing embers spread evenly throughout the entire piece of coal.

The six exchanged glances.

“It burns longer than wood.”

They stared into the brazier.

He was right.

It really did burn longer than firewood.

“We’re going to make these and sell them in the Hanseong market.”

Gangsoe cautiously spoke up.

“Young Master, will these really sell? Won’t people just continue burning wood?”

“Sell them for half the price of a bundle of firewood. If they burn twice as long, people will buy them.”

Gangsoe nodded, though there was little confidence in his eyes.

I looked at him.

“Gangsoe.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

“You’re going to handle selling them at the market, buying land, and establishing trade connections.”

Gangsoe’s eyes widened.

“Me?”

“Of course. Everyone in the residence knows that you have the strength of a bull. If you step forward with that strength, no one will dare mess with you.”

Gangsoe straightened his shoulders.

But I continued.

“However, Gangsoe, you’re too straightforward and kind by nature.”

His shoulders sank again.

“That isn’t a bad thing. But there are many people in the marketplace who deceive others with words. No matter how strong you are, if you’re slow with numbers and someone has a silver tongue, you’ll eventually get taken advantage of. I’m still young. I can’t go out there myself.”

Gangsoe lowered his head.

So I continued.

“That’s why I’m giving you Gwidong.”

Gangsoe raised his head and looked at Gwidong.

A trace of bewilderment appeared in his eyes as he looked at the eight-year-old boy.

“Don’t look down on Gwidong just because he’s young.”

Gangsoe closed his mouth.

“Gwidong never forgets anything he hears even once. He’s quick with numbers, and he can read people. If you block them with your body, Gwidong will catch them with his head. Whatever Gwidong says, you listen carefully. Understand?”

Gangsoe looked at Gwidong again.

Gwidong was looking straight back at him.

There was no fear in his eyes.

Gangsoe slowly nodded.

“I understand, Young Master.”

I looked at Gwidong.

“Gwidong, follow Uncle Gangsoe around, and if you notice anything strange, make sure you tell him.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Gwidong’s answer was clear.

Gaksim, who had been watching from the side, let out a small laugh.

I turned toward her.

“Gaksim, you’ll demonstrate the fuel yourself at the market. People need to see it burning with their own eyes if we’re going to sell it.”

“Understood, Young Master.”

Winter 1859, Chilpae Market, Hanseong

Gaksim set down the brazier and struck a flint.

Tak! Tak!

The shell briquette caught fire.

A passerby stopped.

“What’s that?”

“It’s fuel used in place of wood. Lignite ground into powder, mixed with clay, and molded into the shape of a shell. It costs half as much as a bundle of firewood and burns twice as long.”

The man tilted his head.

He reached out and picked up one of the shell briquettes before setting it back down.

Then he looked into the fire.

After hesitating for a moment, he took out several copper coins.

“Give me two bundles.”

That was how it began.

On the first day, ten bundles were sold.

Three days later, thirty bundles were being sold.

About ten days later, Gangsoe and Gwidong returned from the market.

Gangsoe set down a bundle of coins and spoke.

“Young Master, someone suspicious approached us at the market today.”

“What kind of person?”

“He said he wanted to buy the lignite and asked all sorts of questions. Where the stones came from, who made them, and how we molded them into this shape.”

I looked at Gwidong.

“What do you think?”

“He wasn’t a merchant. He came to investigate.”

“What makes you think that?”

“If he were a merchant, he would have asked about the price first. That man didn’t ask about the price. He only asked where they came from.”

Gangsoe looked down at Gwidong.

There was a hint of recognition in his eyes.

“Good observation. If someone like that comes again, say you don’t know. Don’t tell them where the stones come from or who makes them. And if that man appears again, tell me immediately.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

A month passed.

Gangsoe poured a bundle of coins onto the floor of the servants’ quarters.

Clink!

I counted the coins.

It was a considerable amount of money, but still not enough to buy the land in Gahak-ri.

Gangsoe added,

“Young Master, the owner of an inn near the market wants to buy them in bulk. He says he can use two garma a month.”

An inn burned fires all day long.

They had to warm liquor, boil soup, and cook rice, so their consumption of firewood was several times greater than that of an ordinary household.

Switching to shell briquettes would cut their fuel costs in half.

“Sell to him. But don’t lower the price.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Once the inn became a regular customer, our monthly profits would double.

Even so, it still was not enough to buy the land in Gahak-ri.

Now was the time to buy that hillside, while no one yet knew its value.

In the end, I would have to use the Queen Dowager Sinjeong card.