I Became a Fallen Noble of Goguryeo

Chapter 12: Yeon Jayu (1)

Thwack–! Thwack–!

"You damn peddlers! How’s the taste of a Bear Village fist?"

“Ugh….”

With lively Goguryeo-style body language, ten merchants lay sprawled on the ground.

‘…What kind of nerve did they have to come at us?’

Just a bunch of punks who beat up people in the city and ambushed passersby—picking a fight with people who hunted beasts in the mountains?

By then, these bastards were already eyeing the daggers hidden in their sleeves.

Better to stab and run before the royal forces arrive than get beaten to death here.

Surprisingly, the weak spot of seemingly invincible Goguryeo men was the knife.

Just like a vampire dies with a stake through the heart, a Goguryeo man also dies when stabbed.

Everyone dies from a knife, you say? Well, same thing with the stake in the heart.

Anyway, before any of my Bear Village folks got killed, I swiftly took control of the situation.

"Hey, you damn peddlers. You know Jin Wootae, right? We’ve got ties with him. Still wanna go?"

"What…? Are you serious?"

"Look at the cotton cloth if you don’t believe me."

I tossed them a piece of cotton cloth.

The thugs’ eyes widened.

"This… this belongs to Mr. Jin Wootae."

"That’s right. You can tell it’s from Mrs. Jin Wootae just by the way the weave is twisted."

Cotton cloth is handmade.

From the weaving style, you can roughly tell which household it came from.

If you can't do that, you should quit being a merchant.

"Damn, then why didn’t you say so from the start…."

"Why didn’t you ask first? Consider the cloth as compensation—take it and go get some soup. I heard it helps with the sting after a beating."

"When did I ever say that crap?"

Still, they took the cloth.

"Guys, let’s get out of here! We're done!"

With that, the merchants scattered like a flock.

Whether it’s the 1980s, when the war on crime was raging, or this era, getting on the bad side of power is a death sentence for thugs.

"Have you calmed down now?"

"…Yeah."

"Well then, let’s go find a horse or two."

I took the cotton cloth, made a few purchases, and returned to Bear Village.

‘Couldn’t get a warhorse or a Maek bow.’

Not because I lacked the money, but because they simply weren’t available for sale.

Both the Maek bow and warhorses were classified as military goods—stuff you can’t just buy freely.

Just because you have money to buy a gun doesn’t mean you can.

Whether in the 21st century or this era, it's not that different.

Sure, I could get a wooden bow or a pack horse… but they’re not much help.

Just because you rode bumper cars for 20 hours doesn’t mean you can drive a real car; being good at rhythm games doesn’t mean you can play Chopin.

Not that it’s entirely useless, but the efficiency is poor.

Worse, it might build bad habits that are harder to fix later.

As golf instructors say, "It’s harder to teach someone with bad habits than someone who knows nothing."

‘I can’t enlist… Should I try stealing one?’

If I steal a bow and horse from a nearby fortress and get caught… I’d be lucky to end up a slave—more likely I’d be dead.

I’ll save that for another time. Today isn’t the only day.

Besides, I gained a lot from today as it is.

"Still, not a single person picked a fight with us."

No one in Pyeongyang Fortress dared to mess with us anymore.

"Word probably spread about what happened at Jin Wootae’s house. No ordinary thug will dare touch us now."

Even though I wasn’t a noble, the way they backed off from a ‘true’ noble shows just how much I had suffered under the label of ‘fallen noble’… But Goguryeo is a military state.

For a soldier, a senior prepping for promotion is to be respected, but a dishonorably discharged former division commander? That’s not their concern.

"This is incredible."

The people of Bear Village were speechless.

These rural folks, who had lived without ever knowing backing or connections, were now getting a taste of real power and couldn’t handle it.

"Then, if we really get connected with the nobles of Pyeongyang Fortress like you said?"

"Jackpot."

"Heavens! Let’s go right now!"

They pressured me to visit a noble house in the Pyeongyang Faction immediately, but I shook my head.

"What are we going to do if we go now? We don’t even have any mushrooms."

"…That’s true."

"Let’s stop here for today, and next year, when the mushroom harvest is big, we’ll take them and talk properly."

Instead of returning home in fine silk robes like in the phrase "return home in splendor," I came back to Bear Village loaded with cotton cloth.

The villagers’ reaction was explosive.

"Can you believe those thug-looking peddlers didn’t even dare flinch?"

"And look! This cotton cloth and salt! It wasn’t worth 40 seok of millet—it was worth 80! How much were those peddlers ripping us off? Damn pigs."

"Eighty seok? Then if we plant this spawn, can we make that much next year?"

"Exactly! And that’s not all. Insam’s not even satisfied with Jin Wootae’s backing—he’s trying to get in with the Pyeongyang nobles!"

"Young Master Insam?"

"Since when was he ‘young master’?"

"He filled our storehouse—he’s a young master!"

…Honestly, this is the true foundation of nobility.

No god at the dawn of time pointed and said, ‘You’re a noble, you’re a commoner.’

It’s always been about those with strength protecting others, or those with talent making money for others.

When that martial skill or business acumen is passed down as family know-how, it becomes a family legacy—a noble house.

"Hooray for Young Master Insam!"

"Young Master Insam! Please marry me!"

"Mom, when I grow up, I wanna be Sir Kim Insam’s bodyguard!"

I was half-hoisted and carried home in celebration.

But unlike the fiery mood in the village, my household was chilly.

"You’re back."

It was because of the presence of my mother, seated in the middle of the room.

She spoke quietly, but her calm voice filled the room entirely.

"I heard you plan to visit the Pyeongyang Faction nobles around next year?"

Her voice was utterly subdued.

It made sense.

My mother, Geumhwa, had lost her father and seen her family ruined by the Pyeongyang Faction.

How could she possibly have good feelings toward them?

And now she hears I plan to ‘bow to the Pyeongyang Faction’?

"Mother, let me explain everything—"

"If you truly intend to form ties with the Pyeongyang Faction…"

I swallowed hard.

Was she cutting me off?

Was she going to disown me?

As I scrambled for a way to explain, my mother spoke first.

"…It would be best to find Yeon Jayu of Dongbuyeo origin."

At those words, I forgot everything I was about to say.

Yeon Jayu?

……The grandfather of Yeon Gaesomun, the Kingslayer?

Yeon Gaesomun.

The man who dismembered Go Geonmu, who kowtowed to Tang China, and turned him into pieces, then took the position of Grand Prime Minister for himself—he was the unmatched general who led the Goguryeo-Tang War to victory.

…And the man who completely botched the succession of power, leading to Goguryeo’s destruction via Yeon Namsaeng’s "irasshaimase."

Of course, Yeon Gaesomun’s coup is still eighty years away, and unless I live as long as King Jangsu, I’ll likely be in the coffin by then—so he probably won’t affect me directly.

…But Yeon Jayu, his grandfather, and Yeon Taejo, his father, are a different matter.

‘Yeon Jayu and his son Yeon Taejo both held the position of Prime Minister (Makriji), which had control of Goguryeo’s military. Yeon Taejo not only held that, but also became Supreme Chancellor.’

Goguryeo can be summarized as a ‘military aristocracy.’

If the Supreme Chancellor, chosen by noble vote in the Jeja Council, represents the peak of ‘nobility,’ then the appointed Prime Minister is the military’s highest commander—the peak of ‘military’ power.

Naturally, a family that held both those immense positions repeatedly is a prestigious lineage beyond question.

Like the Andong Kim clan in Joseon, or Yuan Shao’s family that repeatedly held top minister positions in Romance of the Three Kingdoms—a name of insane prestige.

‘Even if not Yeon Gaesomun, his grandfather and father—Yeon Jayu and Yeon Taejo—are figures I’d inevitably encounter if I enter politics.’

But to hear such names come from the mouth of my mother, a mere fallen noble… how could I not be shocked?

"What is your relation to this Yeon Jayu, Mother?"

“When the uprising of Chugun and Segun broke out, the one who killed your maternal grandfather, who led the Domestic Fortress faction’s soldiers, was Yeon Jayu.”

…Huh?

“Just now, didn’t you tell me to go see Yeon Jayu?”

Does this mean I committed a sin, so now I must atone by finding the enemy of our family and stabbing him before dying gloriously?

There’s no way my mother would ask something like that of me.

“Listen. Yeon’s family were nobles of Eastern Buyeo, and when Eastern Buyeo was absorbed during the reign of King Gwanggaeto, they settled in Pyeongyang Fortress.”

Mother said.

“And during the civil war, the nobles of Pyeongyang Fortress lacked the military force to face the nobles of Domestic Fortress. So they brought in the Yeon family of old Eastern Buyeo.”

The Domestic Fortress nobles were a warrior class with many elite soldiers. But although the Pyeongyang Fortress nobles had wealth, they lacked such elite soldiers.

“At the time, the twenty-year-old Yeon Jayu led the Yeon family’s soldiers alongside his father and supported the Pyeongyang faction. Your maternal grandfather fought against them, cutting down seven of Yeon’s household soldiers, and then died fighting Yeon Jayu.”

…So he killed seven household soldiers from the most prestigious family in Goguryeo? Isn’t that like killing seven of Yi Bang-won’s private soldiers in Joseon?

I knew my life was in hard mode, but this feels more like hellfire mode.

“After the civil war ended, in a world where the Pyeongyang nobles had gained power, I was left alone and cast out. But I didn’t die. It was because Yeon Jayu spared me. He said…”

Mother spoke.

“…That since I had fought him bravely, he wouldn’t be the one to sever my family’s lifeline as well. He told me something when I was young.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he regretted not clashing with my father with his full strength. That man wasn’t a money-grubbing noble of Pyeongyang, but a true warrior.”

For a moment, I wondered—if he was a warrior, wouldn’t it have made more sense to side with the Domestic Fortress faction, which was also a warrior force?

But I soon realized that was a foolish thought.

A warrior is welcomed in a place that lacks warriors, but if he goes where warriors are abundant, he’d only be treated as a rival.

At the time, for Yeon Jayu, it must have been a better choice to side with the Pyeongyang faction, where warriors were scarce.

“After that, the Yeon family, once treated as mere rural lords, prospered with merit for suppressing the Domestic Fortress rebellion. His father held a major post in the Jungri Bureau, and Yeon Jayu himself now holds the position of Head of the Jungri Nobility Council.”

“Could he possibly become Prime Minister?”

To my question, Mother shook her head.

“Yeon Jayu is talented, but being from Eastern Buyeo, he doesn’t have a strong base in Pyeongyang. The next Prime Minister will likely be Wang Jun, son of the current Supreme Chancellor Wang Godeok.”

So the Yeon family is a rising force now.

But I know Yeon Jayu will be the future victor. If it were Wang Godeok, I might reconsider, but I’ve never even heard of his son Wang Jun. A name lost to history.

That also likely means Wang Jun won’t become Prime Minister.

Mother spoke.

“…Even if he won’t be Prime Minister, Yeon Jayu’s influence is certainly extraordinary. If you wish to form ties with the Pyeongyang nobles, seeking out Yeon Jayu may be a strategy.”

To form a connection with Yeon Jayu, the future Prime Minister, son of a Prime Minister, and grandfather of a Grand Prime Minister?

…If it works, it’s a jackpot.

But before that, there was something I had to ask.

“Then why, Mother… did you not go to Yeon Jayu yourself, knowing all this?”

“How could I? Though Yeon Jayu spared me, he was still the man who killed my father.”

Ah, so it’s that.

“…But I also have no reason to favor the Domestic Fortress faction. They raised my father, but in the end, they abandoned me. Both sides carry resentment and favor, so I could only follow my heart.”

Mother’s hands trembled.

“I… hated the Pyeongyang faction who killed my father more than I hated the Domestic Fortress faction who abandoned me. I liked the Domestic Fortress faction who raised my father more than the Pyeongyang faction who spared me. That’s why I never relied on the Pyeongyang faction—because I must’ve loved my father more than myself.”

“Then why now?”

“Because.”

Mother reached out to me.

“…I’m not just my father’s daughter anymore. I’m your mother now. I love you more than my father. If you need it, what does a mother’s feelings matter?”

Before I could even be moved, Mother said,

“But this won’t be easy for you. The world might call you a coward.”

Naturally.

Who would look favorably on someone who trampled the pride of the Domestic Fortress faction and crawled into the Pyeongyang faction?

Not only the Domestic Fortress faction, even the Pyeongyang faction would see me as a fool.

“I’ve lived among nobles, and I can’t say that’s any better than poverty. Can… a child like you bear that alone?”

Emotional torment, being scorned by the world. That’s something hard to endure.

But.

“Yes. I can endure it.”

“Why? You don’t even understand it yet.”

“Because I know something even scarier.”

I said confidently.

I remember when I became a mountain miner, and my mother cried in secret. Blaming herself for how her child ended up like that.

I don’t want to see that again.

“King Chumo once worked as a stable hand in his youth, but he found a fine horse from there. King Micheon, due to the mad King Bongsang, worked as a farmhand and salt merchant in his youth, but eventually rose to become king. If they had feared humiliation, could they have achieved great things? What’s more frightening than ridicule from others is failing to do what you must because of fear.”

Whether people call me a coward or trash, I will succeed no matter what.

So that Mother doesn’t regret because of her child, but can smile because of me.

At my response, Mother smiled.

“If your grandfather had seen you now, he would’ve surely said you’ve made him proud.”

“I don’t need a grandfather.”

I held Mother’s hand and said,

“It’s enough if you alone tell me I’ve done well.”

Her hand, scarred from years of sewing, was undoubtedly warm.

But just having a clear goal can sometimes become a driving force on its own. I thought of the path I had to walk.

Still, I didn’t let myself be lost in thought. A person without thought makes mistakes, but a person who overthinks can’t do anything at all.

“Oh wow, the ginseng is growing well. Four more years left? Huh? Elders, what brings you to our place?”

“Ginseng boy, hurry and give me the spawn, I feel like I’m going to faint.”

“What do you mean ‘give’? Say ‘please give me’. Go on, say it, ‘please give me’.”

“What do you mean ‘Ginseng boy’? Is Mr. Ginseng your buddy now?”

We cultivated ginseng and grew mushrooms.

We hunted bears with the villagers, and even threw rocks.

Each day of living was always short, and every year of waiting was unbearably long. Thus came winter, spring, summer, and finally autumn.

“The Grand King mushrooms are full! Can we sell them now?”

“By the way, I heard there’s a war with Silla going on—are we really okay going to Pyeongyang?”

“When has Silla not invaded? It’s not even during the Naje alliance anymore. What can those punks do alone against Goryeo?”

“Right! Exactly! We’ll just go and sell our mushrooms, that’s it. Ain’t that right, Ginseng boy?”

“Well, for now, sure? Shall we get going then?”

With a cart full of mushrooms, we set out toward Pyeongyang.

At this time, real goods were the mainstream currency on the Korean Peninsula. Records show that transactions were made using iron pieces, gold, silver, cloth, salt, and grain, with the most records concerning cloth and grain.

This wasn’t much different in China. During the Han dynasty, the monetary economy functioned well enough to collect taxes in currency, but by the end of the Later Han, it collapsed and taxes were once again collected in cloth and grain.

We can roughly infer the reason from memorials of the Former Han era, which said: “Collecting taxes in currency allows the rich to monopolize money and sell it dearly to farmers, making life hard for them. Better to collect grain and feed the soldiers!”

Of course, they continued to mint coins like the Wuzhu coin, but until around the Ming dynasty, the common folk mostly used commodity money. These Wuzhu coins were also found on the Korean Peninsula, presumably for trade with China.

King Bongsang was the 14th ruler of Goguryeo and a tyrant. He was highly suspicious of his relatives, even executing his own uncle—a war hero who conquered the Sushen—and also forced his younger brother Dolgo, who was beloved by the people, to drink poison.

King Micheon was Dolgo’s son, who, in order to avoid the purge, fled and lived as a farmhand and salt vendor. His life is considered valuable historical material showing the reality of Goguryeo merchants at the time.

A particularly famous tale is about an old woman who, out of spite for King Micheon not lowering the price of salt, hid her shoe among the salt and reported him to the authorities as a thief.

As a result, King Micheon had all his salt confiscated and was even flogged, due to the “tenfold theft” law.

After living such a harsh life, King Micheon later joined hands with Guksang Changjori and led a coup to dethrone King Bongsang and became king himself.

His reign was excellent, and during this time, Goguryeo finished expelling the Lelang Commandery and fully took control of Pyeongyang.

He can roughly be considered the Goguryeo version of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang.