Chapter 90: The King’s Hobby

The King’s Hobby

“Is that really true?”

“A new book is being released, and the central figure of the story is someone who appears in …?”

A few days later.

With only days to go before the new release, fiery rumors spread throughout Hanyang.

“They say the new work is a fiction about Admiral Yi Sun-shin?”

From the giant promotional posters plastered at every bookstore, readers could each infer the protagonist of the upcoming novel.

But that wasn’t all.

“Come to think of it, didn’t the government just publish a book recently? Is it related to that?”

“Wasn’t it called The Complete Works of Admiral Yi?”

“Who knows? I heard officials who didn’t get their copies at the palace lined up to buy it.”

There was a reason why readers were whispering endlessly about a novel that hadn’t even been released yet.

It was because of the recent publication from Gyujanggak, The Complete Works of Admiral Yi.

By royal order, all the records about Admiral Yi Sun-shin were compiled and published not long ago.

But how had an official matter like this become such widespread gossip in Hanyang?

“His Majesty never could resist a story about Admiral Yi, so he even compiled and released a book?”

“He even posthumously appointed him as Chief State Councilor, didn’t he? Well, the Admiral deserves such an honor, of course.”

“Didn’t the late king also often quote Admiral Yi when scolding his ministers? Nothing strange about it.”

That’s because King Jeongjo’s obsession with Admiral Yi Sun-shin was well known, to the point that even the socialites of Hanyang gossiped about it.

Even The Complete Works itself was painstakingly compiled with royal funds from the private treasury.

No, to call it just a “book” would be an understatement—it was a veritable compendium, collecting every private record and note without missing a single word, the very essence of a true devotee’s effort.

In fact, this was the very first time Admiral Yi’s diary had ever been compiled under the title Nanjung Ilgi (War Diary).

Moreover, Jeongjo’s Admiral Yi hobby didn’t stop there.

As people gossiped, in his seventeenth year on the throne, he posthumously made Admiral Yi the Chief State Councilor and even erected a stele at his tomb in Asan.

Furthermore, the king himself composed the text for the monument and personally wrote the title in calligraphy as an extra honor.

So anyone who heard about these events instantly realized that the king’s fixation on Admiral Yi was not ordinary.

After all this became known, it was only natural that the king’s open taste spread among the people of Hanyang.

And so—

“Maybe His Majesty himself has read The Story of Hong Gildong? Hehe.”

“Nonsense! His Majesty despises such fictional tales!”

Especially among the readers in Hanyang, Jeongjo’s “fanboying” over Admiral Yi became a hot topic.

After all, many of them had discovered Admiral Yi through the popular novels of the past, like Imjinrok and The Biography of Yi Sun-shin.

There were other sources, but quite a few people learned about this hero of two centuries past from novels.

Read a patriotic novel that gets your blood pumping, and naturally, the image of Admiral Yi gets etched into your mind.

Above all, perhaps because of several reasons, Jeongjo had much deeper pockets than in actual history.

With a budget given to Gye Deok-sang, copies of The Complete Works printed for the public had begun appearing in Hanyang bookstores.

As habitual bookstore goers discovered these, stories about the new publication—seemingly unrelated to novels—started spreading among the readers.

Moreover—

“For someone who claims to hate fiction, he publishes The Complete Works, and now Korea’s greatest novelist is writing a new story about the Admiral?”

“Huh…?”

“Come to think of it, with Hong Gildong and Chunhyangjeon, there’s always this odd connection between fiction and government policy…”

“It’s just a coincidence, right?”

“The timing is a bit strange, isn’t it?”

Perhaps thanks to the timely ‘spectacular filial piety’ shown by ‘that person,’ the rumors about Jeongjo’s Admiral Yi obsession began spreading uncontrollably across Joseon.

“Come to think of it, there was a rumor with Hong Gildong too.”

“A rumor?”

“That the author who mocked high officials in fiction was dragged to the State Tribunal and made to drink herring broth through his nose…”

Well, at the time, the author had to take a break from writing because of his father’s Confucian bullying—no, Neo-Confucian special lectures—and the need to hide his identity.

After the sensitive Hong Gildong was published and the author suddenly disappeared, strange rumors had spread throughout Hanyang.

In fact, among the readers, these rumors were more or less treated as fact.

“Come on, wasn’t that back when there were no noodle shops in Hanyang?”

“Regardless! After that, the author started writing stories that, weirdly enough, aligned with government policies!”

“So, this new Admiral Yi novel as well?”

“Exactly! They say His Majesty told the author, ‘If you want to live, write!’…”

“Sounds plausible, doesn’t it…?”

“Oh, enough already! The police will come running!”

But now, with Jeongjo publishing The Complete Works and a new novel about Admiral Yi about to be released, is it any wonder that the old baseless rumors flared back to life?

Meanwhile, as the author was holed up in his ‘dimensional rice chest’ study, working on his manuscript—

“Ah… No need to research sources, this is a real treat.”

With all the relevant excerpts from The Complete Works spread out beside him, he could write the novel smoothly.

He was simply grateful to his father, who had used royal funds to gather all the Admiral’s materials from across the land.

Anyway—

So, from long before publication, all kinds of rumors were ablaze.

With expectations far surpassing anything seen so far, the new work of ‘that person’ finally made its debut in Joseon.

And then—

[……I still have twelve warships remaining, but if we fight with all our might, we can win.

Though the number of ships is few, as long as this humble servant yet lives, the Japanese will not dare to look down on us.]

Right before the myth at Myeongnyang was born, Admiral Yi’s heart-stirring report to the court.

With these words, the opening of the new novel began.

A legend had begun.

“…Sales of the civilian edition of The Complete Works have exceeded expectations…?”

Not long after the publication of the new novel that maximized the Admiral Yi hype, unexpected news arrived at the royal court in Hanyang.

“Yes! The Booksellers’ Association reports they may need to print a second edition soon!!”

“Hoho…!!”

Well, Jeongjo, who had been frowning moments ago in an argument with his ministers, instantly brightened.

“Huh…?”

“How could that be…?”

But some ministers reacted strangely.

Their incredulous reactions meant even these seasoned political veterans hadn’t anticipated this situation.

After all, until now, there had never been such a drastic surge in sales for a non-fiction book…

‘How could this be…?’

‘His Majesty’s privately-funded hobby…?’

‘Commoners actually paid money for such a pointless book…?’

With a book no one expected to sell suddenly flying off the shelves among the people, the ministers were understandably stunned.

Because The Complete Works of Admiral Yi was, after all, a personal project compiled at great expense by the Admiral Yi devotee on the throne.

Its primary purpose was the king’s personal hobby, and it was all too clear that distributing it to his ministers was meant as a lesson in loyalty.

Most ministers had received the book from Jeongjo with bows and forced smiles, but could easily read the king’s intentions.

Besides, the copies produced at the Royal Printing Office were obviously intended for distribution to high-ranking officials.

The rest, printed at private expense for civilian circulation, were thought by the ministers to be little more than rewards for merchants who’d helped set up the postal system.

And what of the contents of The Complete Works?

In short, it was simply a neatly edited compilation of Admiral Yi’s records.

Like any training manual, unless you were an Admiral Yi devotee like the man smiling on the throne, it would be hard to enjoy.

Let alone the readers of fiction, who craved more stimulating tales—it seemed obvious it would hold little interest for them.

Well, except—

“Yeongjae, it’s a gift. I thought you’d like this book.”

“Oh…!!”

There were exceptions—like Yu Deuk-gong, who was thrilled to receive what Park Ji-won had tried to palm off as a gift.

But that was only possible because they were, at heart, history buffs.

So, seeing something so obviously produced by adult circumstances selling well, these men couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Why is this doing so well?’

While they puzzled over it, other ministers nodded knowingly.

“Hmm… Makes sense, actually.”

“Once you start reading it, you just can’t stop.”

“You too, Your Excellency? Last night, for the first time, I actually pulled out my copy of The Complete Works from the closet and— Gasp…!!”

Well, one minister accidentally confessed to having stashed away the king’s gift, only to cower at the fiery glare from the throne.

Anyway, these men were all the types who had enjoyed novels in secret since the days of Hong Gildong.

They had exactly the opposite tastes from those who’d just shown surprise and distaste for fiction.

After several events, even Jeongjo’s attitude toward fiction had softened a bit.

Especially with this latest work perfectly aligning with the king’s own preferences, these ministers now found ways to discuss novels under the pretense of state business—even in front of the king.

Curiously, these men were all supporters of Jeongjo, whether openly or covertly.

For example, Jeongjo’s “official slave no. 1” Chae Je-gong, and his secret pen-pal Shim Hwan-ji, were among them.

Whether as reformers or even conservatives who cooperated behind the scenes, these ministers had acquired a taste for fiction.

After all, so many of Joseon’s recent policies that changed the course of the nation were strangely connected to popular fiction, so it was only natural that they took interest.

Whatever got them into fiction in the first place, one thing was clear.

A curious group of ministers with a taste for novels had formed naturally within the Joseon court.

And at the center of it all was a young official—

“Kim Jo-sun, Deputy Chief Censor.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!!”

With Jeongjo now grinning and excited, there was no one better to explain the situation.

“How did this come about? I simply meant to reward the merchants for their efforts—nothing more.”

Though Jeongjo’s voice was laden with obviously affected innocence, no one was fooled.

Well, the publication of this new novel had received Jeongjo’s approval even before the manuscript was handed to the Booksellers’ Guild.

And when Jeongjo first read it, he’d shown a reaction never before seen in response to a novel.

So Kim Jo-sun knew there was no way Jeongjo didn’t already know exactly why The Complete Works was selling so well.

Still, sometimes you just had to play along with the boss.

‘He knows everything—why’s he acting like this… Sigh…’

Suppressing a sigh as he watched the king, for the first time not putting on his stern face, Kim Jo-sun spoke.

“Your Majesty, in my humble opinion, it is surely the influence of the new novel, Myeongnyang, circulating in Hanyang.”

“A mere fiction, you say?”

“Yes, but this is no ordinary fiction—unlike anything published so far…”

To pretend ignorance after having read the manuscript second only to the king himself…

Kim Jo-sun swallowed his disbelief as he glanced up at the obviously delighted Jeongjo.

How much was the publication schedule delayed as he struggled to retrieve the manuscript after the king read it for the pre-approval process?

Well, the king may have viewed it as less a novel than a superbly written “biography of Yi Sun-shin,” akin to an entry in a historical compendium.

Still, having once been harassed all night for reading The Story of Hong Gildong, it did rankle Kim Jo-sun to see the king acting like this.

Well, anyway.

The king is the king, and Kim Jo-sun is a servant.

“How is it that my Complete Works is selling together with this new work?”

“Your Majesty. The new novel, which you praised so highly, covers Admiral Yi’s later years in extraordinary and moving detail.”

“Ho?”

“It’s so moving that, from what I hear, many customers at the bookstore in Unjongga have been seen shedding tears after reading it…”

Kim Jo-sun’s report was no exaggeration.

After all, Admiral Yi is an unbeatable “cheat code” for inspiring both Joseon-era Koreans and modern ones alike.

Yet there were still some confused by the current situation.

“Tears? People are crying…?”

“How come? I once heard about Imjinrok, that novel with Admiral Yi, and there was nothing tearful about it…”

Indeed.

The ministers who had never read the new novel could not understand why ordinary readers would be moved to tears.

After all, the old classic Imjinrok was basically a straightforward feel-good, wish-fulfillment novel.

Its plot had King Seonjo receiving a prophetic dream before the war even started, twisting history from the outset.

The Taoist monk Samyeong crossed to Japan to punish their king and demanded preposterous tributes like a stone ship and 300 human hides—truly a morning drama of outrageous proportions.

In such a wild story, Admiral Yi was just one of many characters and didn’t even play a major role.

So it was no wonder they couldn’t relate to Kim Jo-sun’s testimony.

But they were in luck.

The minister currently praising the new Admiral Yi novel before Jeongjo was no ordinary man.

“…That night, a divine being appeared in my dream and said—”

“‘If you seek death, you will live; if you seek life, you will die…!!’”

“‘An Wi! Do you wish to die by military law? If you run, where will you find refuge?!’”

As he dramatically recited lines from the novel, the audience fell silent.

Some ministers who’d read the book now wiped their eyes at the vivid battle scene at Myeongnyang.

This was the real story of Admiral Yi, the likes of which Joseon readers had never before experienced in a novel.

Here, Kim Jo-sun’s mastery as a literary devotee was in full display, able to recite the beloved novel word-for-word on cue.

“Is this really fiction set during the Imjin War…?”

“It’s completely different from all those other miscellaneous stories, isn’t it…?”

Inevitably, the ministers who were hearing about Myeongnyang for the first time from Kim Jo-sun were left speechless.

Moreover—

“Wait, aren’t these actual records included in The Complete Works…!!”

Why did Jeongjo’s “fanboy” book suddenly start flying off the shelves?

Now, a minister finally realized the answer and slapped his forehead in a cold sweat.

For the first time in history, a novel using real historical records had achieved true “accurate depiction.”

※ Author’s Note

In fact, the “I still have twelve ships remaining” report by Admiral Yi, cited in the opening of the novel, is a real record found in the chronological section of The Complete Works of Admiral Yi.

If Jeongjo hadn’t compiled The Complete Works at this time, many records would have been lost to history, as they are not even recorded in the Annals.

For example, one volume of Nanjung Ilgi survives only through its inclusion in The Complete Works.