Chapter 1039: Scholar-Officials and Official Slaves
An archery competition was underway at the Jeju Government Office's practice field. The Jeju Magistrate, Lord Yi Jin-gyeong, had taken personal interest in the affair and summoned the island's principal officials to participate.
The Joseon Dynasty's ruling class harbored deep enthusiasm for archery. From the King himself down through the Yangban nobility, all regarded it as a refined pastime. Archery competitions were regularly held at the palace and government offices, with prizes awarded to victors. Under such patronage, even civil officials developed impressive skill with the bow.
An arrow left the string, slicing through the wind with a sharp whistle. The shaft drove into the target a finger's width from the bullseye, quivered momentarily, then stood still.
The archer was Lord Yi Jin-gyeong himself. His face darkened immediately. Before he could mask his disappointment, he glanced toward the soldiers and subordinates arrayed beside the drill ground. They had composed their features into expressions of respect, but failed to conceal their surprise.
Though a civil official by appointment, Yi Jin-gyeong's archery rivaled that of Judge Yi Dae-ha; the two were considered evenly matched in skill.
Today's weather was ideal—gentle breezes, bright sunshine, winds much lighter than usual—precisely the conditions for archers to demonstrate their maximum ability. That Lord Yi's first arrow should miss the bullseye was entirely unexpected.
The atmosphere grew stagnant. Everyone appeared uneasy. After all, this Observer had always prided himself on his archery; such a scene would surely foul his mood.
When a superior was displeased, subordinates would suffer. Every gaze drifted toward Yi Dae-ha, who was next to shoot.
If this Judge Yi could also miss by some margin—whether genuinely or strategically—the tension might ease. But that was far from certain.
Yi Dae-ha served as Jeju's Judge, the highest military official on the entire island and effectively its second-in-command. He personally handled much of the actual administrative work, making the relationship between Judge and Magistrate rather delicate. Moreover, due to the Yangban nobility's influence, the Joseon Dynasty lacked the strong tradition of valuing civil over military authority found elsewhere. More significantly, the Judge's direct superior—Jeolla Province Military Commander Shin Gyeong-yu—had been a prominent supporter of the current King's coup to overthrow Gwanghaegun just eight years prior. With such a powerful figure of the new regime backing him, Judge Yi might not feel inclined to play along.
Yi Dae-ha appeared in full martial regalia: a calfskin quiver at his waist held thirteen eagle-feather arrows, and he gripped a vermilion-lacquered, rattan-bound bow. His presence immediately commanded attention.
He drew a deep breath and calmly raised his bow. When the string reached full draw, he stood motionless, steady as a mountain. Every eye fixed upon him.
His arrow also missed the mark.
Yi Dae-ha shook his head slightly. A wave of unease passed through the assembled officials. Then, suddenly, a soldier came running to report urgent news: the beacon towers had been lit—a large-scale Wokou invasion was underway.
Shock rippled through the crowd. Since the Tokugawa Seclusion, Wokou harassment of Jeju had declined dramatically. Since 1605, when Joseon and the Tokugawa Shogunate re-established diplomatic relations, the island had enjoyed nearly three decades of peace. Though small bands of pirates still occasionally landed and raided, there had been no major invasion.
The beacon signal was maddeningly vague—it indicated only that a substantial Wokou force had struck the main island from the direction of Seongsan. Specific details would have to await reports from local soldiers and subordinate officials.
"Wokou have breached our shores?"
Despite his shock, the Judge had contingency plans ready. Yi Dae-ha immediately ordered the beacons lit across the island, horns blown, and garrison soldiers summoned from all townships.
Since the Goryeo Dynasty, the Jeju region had suffered constant Wokou incursions—killing, arson, and robbery were commonplace. To resist these invasions, extensive defensive infrastructure had been established during King Sejong's reign: three cities, nine garrisons, ten naval battle stations, twenty-five beacon towers, and thirty-eight smoke towers. Pacification Commissioner Han Seung-sun had instituted the beacon fire system, creating a comprehensive alert and defense network. Beacon stations lined the coastline and occupied mountain peaks, enabling rapid notification to Jeju City and all other towns and defense posts in emergencies.
According to standing orders, when Wokou landed, beacon fires would blaze across the island. Garrisons and city stations would relay information through horn signals and beacon fires. Garrison soldiers would hold their stockades and control the ports, preventing the pirates from using island harbors for reinforcement. The main forces from each city would then deploy based on the Wokou landing zone, coordinating with warships from nearby naval stations to attack from both land and sea, annihilating the invaders.
The problem was that this seemingly sound plan depended on an army capable of basic combat effectiveness—and required that the landing force not be too large. With only fifteen hundred troops on the island, subtracting essential defensive garrisons left perhaps three or four hundred men available for deployment at any given time. That was adequate for repelling a few dozen or even a hundred pirates, but would prove woefully inadequate against greater numbers.
They could, of course, call upon the "Righteous Army"—volunteer militia formed by islanders, equivalent to the Ming Dynasty's local defense forces. Compared to the regular army, these Righteous Armies, fighting to protect home and country, often demonstrated impressive combat effectiveness. During the Three Ports Wokou Disturbance, Jeju Island's Righteous Army had played a significant role, mounting fierce resistance against the raiders. But recent decades had brought frequent disasters and chronic food shortages, causing a massive population exodus to the peninsula. The pool of available Righteous Army recruits had dwindled accordingly.
Learning that Wokou had landed near Seongsan, Jeongui Magistrate Choi In-geon went pale—this was his jurisdiction. As the official charged with defending that territory, he bore inescapable responsibility for repelling the invaders.
"Your Excellency, please dispatch several hundred elite soldiers. This humble official will return to the county immediately to resist the Wokou!"
Though frightened, the duty to defend one's post could not be evaded. Choi In-geon summoned his courage.
Better to be proactive and bring reinforcements back with him than be forced to return empty-handed. Whether victory could be achieved remained uncertain, but at least he could ensure his personal safety. These Wokou were surely just raiders—they would withdraw once they'd plundered their fill.
"The enemy situation remains unclear," Yi Dae-ha replied. "Rashly deploying troops could invite disaster. The only remotely capable soldiers on this island belong to the Jeju Division. If something goes wrong, every soldier and civilian on the island will face eternal doom."
Though his words sounded dignified, the underlying meaning was clear: he had no intention of dispatching reinforcements. The Judge had made his calculations—the Wokou would retreat eventually. Even if a county seat fell temporarily, recovery after their withdrawal was inevitable. But losing soldiers and officers would be the Judge's responsibility.
As the highest military official, he knew better than anyone the true state of the island's three Divisions. The only troops worth anything were a small number of Special Patrols and Tooth Soldiers—personal guards—perhaps one or two hundred men in total. They might not even prove a match for the Wokou.
Just as Choi In-geon was formulating a rebuttal, Magistrate Yi Jin-gyeong spoke. As befitting a rank-three civil official, he possessed the ability to "remain calm amidst chaos"—his expression remained composed. He cleared his throat, stroked his beard, and spoke slowly:
"Even if the Wokou force is large, we must remain calm. Calm."
He repeated the word twice. As expected, the officials ceased their murmuring and turned their attention to him, hoping to hear what brilliant strategy the Magistrate might unveil.
But Yi Jin-gyeong had no "clever plan in a silk bag." Beyond instructing Yi Dae-ha to "devise a strategy to repel the enemy immediately" and ordering Choi In-geon to "return quickly to oversee the defense of your county," he offered nothing substantive. The assembled officials could only boom their acknowledgment.
In an atmosphere of escalating tension, the two magistrates—Choi In-geon and Yi Gu—set out under guard escort, riding fast horses back to their respective county seats. Horns immediately blared throughout Jeju City, summoning garrisons from outside the walls, closing the city gates, and implementing pre-battle readiness protocols.
Yi Dae-ha returned to his office and immediately dispatched Special Patrols to reconnoiter the enemy situation. Then he penned a personal letter to his direct superior, Jeolla Province Military Commander Shin Gyeong-yu, informing him that a large Wokou force had landed and that defensive preparations were underway.
This was not a formal request for aid—merely a private communication. Whether to declare an emergency and request reinforcements would depend on the reconnaissance report.
He summoned a servant and instructed him to select a capable man to deliver the letter. Then he issued another order:
"Ask Middle Army Park to attend me."
The archery competition had ended abruptly, and the entourages surrounding the officials dispersed in disarray. Only a handful of minor clerks from the Jeju Government Office remained, directing dozens of official slaves in the cleanup.
An awning had been erected beside the archery field for the post-competition banquet. The tables stood fully set with cups, saucers, bowls, and chopsticks, displaying arrangements of four fruits and four dried delicacies to accompany wine. The official courtesans prepared for entertainment wore elaborate makeup and magnificent garments, now gazing bewildered at the suddenly empty field, uncertain whether to depart or await further orders.
Seventeen-year-old official slave Park Deok-hwan glanced at the courtesans beneath the awning and swallowed hard. He bent to gather objects scattered across the archery field when a fist struck his back. He spun around to find his brother, Park Deok-maeng.
"Big Brother—what are you still working here for? Get the food, quick!" Park Deok-maeng still had traces of soybean paste at the corner of his mouth. "If you're too slow, there won't be any left!"
Park Deok-hwan immediately dropped the items in his hands and followed his brother toward the temporary kitchen. Official slaves ate barley and buckwheat year-round, accompanied only by inferior soybean paste and seaweed. They couldn't even obtain such luxuries as radish kimchi.
At the makeshift kitchen, official slaves and minor clerks jostled for food. This feast, lovingly prepared by the government office's slaves, now had no officials to consume it—a windfall for the minor functionaries and bondservants who usually subsisted on little more than salted vegetables and soybean paste. Their loyalty and patriotism burned less fiercely than the scholar-officials'; so long as no blade pressed their throats, their appetites remained healthy.
The official slaves couldn't claim the choicest roasted meats or fish soups, but humbler fare—fish sauce, fish porridge, and kimchi—remained plentiful. The Park brothers quickly secured two heaping bowls of fish porridge, heaped with soybean paste and crab sauce in messy piles, then retreated to a quiet corner to devour their prizes.
(End of Chapter)