Di Ming

Chapter 305 The Weeping King and His Ministers of Joseon

After the fall of Pyongyang, King Yi Seon of Joseon fled north in haste and eventually took refuge in a dilapidated temple on the banks of the Yalu River in Uiju.

This dilapidated Buddhist temple, long neglected and unrepaired, is now his "temporary abode".

The dilapidated palace in the autumn wind, in stark contrast to the bustling Hanyang of my memory, truly feels like a world apart. Even the surging river seems to reflect the endless sorrow of this hasty departure from the temple.

How much sorrow can one have? It's like a river of spring water flowing eastward. Li Yin suddenly recalled Li Yu's poem, and then remembered that Li Yu also had the surname Li, and his heart trembled.

The Joseon ministers who accompanied King Yi Yeon on his "northern exile," such as Chief Censor Ryu Seong-ryong, Minister Kim Sung, and Left State Councilor Yoon Doo-su, looked at each other in bewilderment as they watched their lord weep by the river and even speak the Dong language (Korean) used by the common people.

Liu Chenglong reassured him, "Your Highness, do not worry. Although the Celestial Empire has sent envoys to the enemy country, they are certainly trying to persuade the enemy to withdraw their troops, which is also for the sake of our country. The envoys going to negotiate will not affect the Celestial Empire's military deployment."

Yi Yeon felt much better after hearing this. What he feared most was that the Ming Dynasty would abandon Korea and unilaterally negotiate peace with Japan, disregarding the fate of Korea.

Faced with the Ming army's delayed arrival, the Joseon king and his officials were extremely anxious and felt each day drag on endlessly. They even suspected that the Ming court was waiting for Joseon to be completely destroyed before taking action.

Seeing that the envoy's ship was about to dock, Yi Yeon stopped using Dong-yu (Korean) and instead said sadly in Chinese:

"I am over forty and burdened with the worries of gathering firewood. I fear my health will not allow me to recover our lost territories. How sorrowful this lament is!"

Upon hearing this, the courtiers felt helpless.

Your Highness was far too cowardly. Had Your Highness held fast to Seoul and Pyongyang, the Japanese pirates might not have been able to sweep across the eight provinces in just a few months, and the country would not have fallen so quickly.

However, as soon as the Japanese pirates landed in Busan, the royal army suffered only a few defeats before His Highness, in a panic, abandoned Seoul and went on a "northern hunt," resulting in a complete loss of morale.

If it weren't for following the example of Emperor Xuanzong during the An Lushan Rebellion and leaving Prince Gwanghaegun in the south to organize righteous troops to resist the Japanese pirates, the Japanese army would probably have already conquered the entire Pyonganbuk-do region, and wouldn't even have been able to stay in Uiju, the northernmost part of the province.

Yin Doushou comforted him, saying, "Your Highness is only forty years old, in the prime of your life, and there is no need to be so pessimistic. Although His Majesty is slightly unwell, it is just due to excessive worry and is not a serious matter. Why worry about gathering firewood? We can all see the day when we recover our lost territories, let alone Your Highness living to a ripe old age."

Upon hearing this, Li Yeon shook his head and smiled bitterly. He sighed again, his heart heavy with sorrow, and said:
Even if there is no worry about falling ill, there is still the worry of being imprisoned.

He was a weak, pessimistic, and cowardly monarch who had only known how to indulge in wine and women in recent years. As a wealthy and powerful ruler, how could he withstand any major events?

These past few months have been agonizing for him; he has been like a frightened bird, living in constant fear.

He dreamt that he and his two sons were captured by the Japanese army and became prisoners.

The ministers knew that His Highness was worried that he might be captured by the Japanese army like Prince Li Jin and Prince Sunhwa.

However, His Highness was filled with fear day and night, yet he insisted on refusing to cross the river to seek refuge in the Ming Dynasty, all for the sake of saving face.

The Governor-General of Jiliao and the Governor of Liaodong, both located across the river, invited His Highness to cross the river to Liaodong, but His Highness politely declined, saying that he would stay in Korea to boost morale.

Kim Sung also advised, “Our country has not perished. Your Highness is here, the royal court is here, and Prince Gwanghae, who is leading the righteous army to resist the Japanese pirates, is here. The Celestial Empire has also agreed to send troops. Why does Your Highness lament the loss of your country or worry about being imprisoned? The angels are about to land. Your Highness should cheer up.”

Cui Xingyuan, the magistrate of the Ministry of Revenue, quickly said, “Your Highness, the descent of the angel is a good opportunity. Your Highness can speak to the angel about the difficulties in Yizhou. The current shortage of money and grain is disrespectful to Your Highness’s dignity.”

"Okay, okay..." Li Yeon wiped away his tears, straightened his clothes, and tried his best to appear calm and composed.

Uiju served as a temporary residence, and conditions were harsh. The Buddhist temple where Yi Yeon temporarily resided was dilapidated and leaky, with insufficient food supplies. His accompanying ministers, concubines, palace maids, and guards even had to share millet to stave off hunger.

"An angel has arrived! Welcome him with courtesy!"

Du Chengzhi Liu Chenglong's voice startled a flock of water birds, which fluttered past the broken brackets and cast fleeting shadows on the cracked caisson ceiling.

At this moment, Zhu Yin's ship finally docked, and Yi Yeon, supported by others, led dozens of Joseon yangban ministers, walking forward with difficulty.

Meanwhile, the remaining bands played sporadic ceremonial music to welcome the angels.

Zhu Yin had already used a telescope to get a clear view of King Seonjo of Joseon, who was dressed in a five-symbol crown robe. Even the bags under Seonjo's eyes, which had become loose from his indulgence in wine and women, were clearly visible.

Zhu Yin disregarded the so-called "King Seonjo" in Korean history.

As a king with eight million subjects and real power, he lost all eight provinces and ninety percent of his territory in less than three months. He handed over the task of resisting the Japanese pirates to his son and fled all the way to the Yalu River, ready to escape to the Ming Dynasty at any time...

What else could this person be but a tyrant? He had Wanli's weaknesses, but he wasn't as lucky as Wanli.

If this person had any courage and ability, he wouldn't have almost caused the downfall of North Korea so quickly.

"The Imperial Envoy shall disembark!" the accompanying official announced.

Immediately, the honor guard disembarked and went ashore, and then the crowd surrounded Zhu Yin, who was wearing a python robe and a Liang crown, as he disembarked.

When the Korean king and his ministers saw Zhu Yin, they couldn't help but be taken aback, exchanging bewildered glances.

How can an angel be so young? They look like teenagers!

Their intelligence network was closed, and they were unaware of Zhu Yin's situation, nor did they know beforehand that the Ming Dynasty would send Zhu Yin as an envoy to Japan.

Although Zhu Yin was still a boy, none of the Joseon king and his ministers dared to be negligent. This was because Zhu Yin had a handsome appearance and a noble demeanor, and it was clear that he was not an ordinary boy.

It must be someone with a very special background!
Upon seeing the imperial envoy's entourage and banners displayed, Li Yeon hesitated only for a moment before quickly bowing and paying his respects to Zhu Yin.

"Your subject, Li Yeon, greets the angels of the superior nation! I respectfully wish Your Majesty good health!"

Although he was the King of Joseon, holding a position equivalent to a prince of the Ming Dynasty and having authority over Joseon affairs, he still had to take the initiative to pay his respects when encountering Ming envoys.

Because Zhu Yin represented the Ming Dynasty and the emperor, he was not worshipping Zhu Yin.

Dozens of ministers from the Yangban aristocracy also knelt down and paid their respects to the emperor.

"Your Majesty, may you be well!" Zhu Yin raised his hand. "Your Highness, please rise! Everyone, please rise! I am here on a mission to Japan to urge them to withdraw their troops and cease hostilities, not to Korea. I am merely passing through and will be staying temporarily in Uiju."

The Korean king and his ministers then stood up and exchanged pleasantries, expressing their gratitude for the envoy's long journey. Their Chinese pronunciation seemed inaccurate, differing greatly from the official language of the Central Plains.

The Korean king and his officials were fluent in Classical Chinese, yet they were poor at communicating in Chinese with the Ming envoys. In other words, from the Ming Dynasty's perspective, they were proficient in reading and writing Chinese, but their spoken Chinese was very poor.

Many people can read and write Chinese and understand the essence of Chinese characters. However, their spoken pronunciation is strange, and only a very few can communicate fluently in Chinese with the Ming Dynasty envoys.

Because they spoke Chinese, the Ming Dynasty envoys could not understand them.

Similarly, they couldn't understand the Chinese spoken by the Ming Dynasty envoys.

Zhu Yin knew that historical records showed that when the King of Joseon and the envoys of the Ming Dynasty talked, they could only rely on translators or "written conversations" because neither of them could understand each other's Chinese.

This is what historical records refer to as "writing is easy, speaking is difficult".

Strangely, while Korean nobles could communicate fluently in Chinese among themselves, they could not communicate fluently with Ming Dynasty envoys.

Zhu Yin certainly knew the reason.

It turns out that the Korean aristocracy has a long history, originating from the powerful families of the Goryeo Dynasty, and has a long tradition of speaking Chinese. They pride themselves on the fact that "although the country is small, we admire China as if it were our father."

Ironically, the Korean-Chinese spoken at this time was closer to the Hokkien language.

During the Tang and Song dynasties, Korean nobles used the elegant language of the Nara language as their upper class. Later, under the rule of the Yuan dynasty, the Nara language almost disappeared.

After the founding of the Ming Dynasty, in order to eliminate the influence of the Liao, Jin, and Yuan languages, Emperor Taizu restored the "Zhongyuan Zhengyin" (Central Plains Standard Pronunciation) based on the Heluo dialect, formulated the "Hongwu Zhengyun" (Hongwu Standard Rhyme), promoted it throughout the country, and promulgated it to Korea.

Therefore, the Korean nobles adopted the Hongwu Zhengyun as their standard. The Hongwu Zhengyun is very close to the Heluo Elegant Language, which means that the Korean nobles largely restored the Heluo Elegant Language.

Later, due to Zhu Di's relocation of the capital to Beijing, and his own accustomed to the foreign-influenced Chinese language, the Ming Dynasty ceased promoting the *Hongwu Zhengyun*. Over the past two centuries, this foreign-influenced Chinese language has become the mainstream. The voiced initials of the *Hongwu Zhengyun* disappeared, resulting in the loss of the elegant and ancient charm of the Chinese language that had existed for millennia.

At this time, the "Mandarin" spoken in the Central Plains contained a large amount of vocabulary from Khitan, Jurchen, and Mongolian languages. Pronunciation not only eliminated voiced consonants but also heavily emphasized retroflex endings. It differed significantly from the Han Chinese spoken in Japan, Korea, and Annam.

This explains why Koreans and Japanese during the Tang and Song dynasties could converse fluently with Tang and Song envoys, but by the Ming dynasty, their Chinese proficiency had "deteriorated" to the point where communication was difficult.

It's not that their Chinese language has degenerated; rather, the pronunciation of Central Plains Chinese has changed significantly, and they haven't adapted to the changes. This has created a cultural oddity: the upper classes of both countries are clearly fluent in Chinese, yet they find it difficult to communicate orally, much like the difficulty of communicating between two dialects.

Ironically, the Koreans were unaware of the reason and thought it was because their accents were poor and they couldn't learn the "real" Mandarin of the Central Plains, which was why they couldn't communicate smoothly with the Ming envoys.

Look for the reasons within yourself.

The Ming Dynasty envoys were unaware of the reason and assumed that the Koreans' pronunciation was too inaccurate and not authentic Chinese, leading to a misunderstanding.

This is somewhat similar to how many foreigners in later generations use traditional Chinese characters, don't recognize simplified characters, and think they've learned them incorrectly. It turns out they haven't learned them incorrectly; it's just that the characters used in countries with simplified Chinese alphabets have changed.

But to the delight of the Korean king and his ministers, they were able to understand Zhu Yin's Chinese!
Unbeknownst to them, Zhu Yin possessed a talent for languages, having studied the elegant language of the Han and Luo regions and the Hongwu Zhengyun, and could understand the "foreign" Chinese spoken by the Korean nobles.

Not only can he understand, he can also speak!

While the Korean king and his court were pleased, they were also somewhat puzzled. Why did the angel speak their broken Chinese? Did the angel's Chinese also not sound perfect?
impossible.

If they knew that Zhu Yin also knew the Korean language, Hangul, I wonder what they would think.

Zhu Yin, seeing the expressions on the faces of the Korean king and his ministers, knew exactly what they were thinking.

Although the Korean aristocracy disdained using Dong-language (Korean) and Hangul, most of the lower classes still used Dong-language Hangul, which was known as "women's script."

In Korea, Chinese was the language of the nobility, equivalent to the status of French in Europe today. The upper class was accustomed to speaking Chinese and using Chinese characters to flaunt their nobility and elegance, and ridiculed Hangul (the Korean script) as "women's script."

Zhu Yin glanced at the distraught Joseon king and his ministers, finding it difficult to feel any sympathy for these pampered noblemen.

You are all guilty of nearly destroying Japan in just a few months!

But he was on a diplomatic mission to Japan, not to punish Korea. He then spoke gently, using the pronunciation of the *Hongwu Zhengyun* rhyme scheme:

"Your Highness, although I am here on imperial orders to negotiate peace, the Ming army is already north of the Yangtze River. They are just waiting for supplies to be ready and will arrive soon! Your Highness need not worry."

Yi Yeon felt as if he had heard a divine voice. Not only did he not need a translator or to communicate by hand, but Zhu Yin also said that the heavenly army would soon cross the river!

"Your Majesty, I thank you for your great favor..." Yi Yeon bowed again, "Once the heavenly army has recovered the lost territories, I will personally go to Beijing to pay homage to Your Majesty!"

Zhu Yin said meaningfully, "The reason why the Heavenly Army has not yet crossed the river is that the eight provinces of Korea have fallen, making it impossible to collect food supplies. If Your Highness had food supplies to provide for the army, the army would have entered Korea to fight against the Japanese long ago."

King Yeon and his ministers felt ashamed upon hearing this. This was indeed the reason why the Ming army had been unable to send troops: the Ming Dynasty still needed to procure its own provisions.

Zhu Yin, too lazy to waste time with the Korean king and his ministers, finished his pleasantries and went straight to the point:
"I am here by imperial decree to go to Seoul first to make contact with the leaders of the Japanese pirates, and then cross the sea to Japan. I will stay here for one night and head south tomorrow."

Li Yeon said, "There are no post stations nearby, so please let the angel rest here for the night."

Zhu Yin nodded and said, "Then I will trouble Your Highness."

Looking up at the so-called "temporary palace" on the riverbank, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself.

This is hardly a palace; it's a temple. However, although it's quite dilapidated, it's very large and dates back to the Mongol period.

Nurhaci, disguised as Zhu Yin, the leader of the guards, was observing the Korean king and his ministers with cold eyes from within the ranks.

This is the Joseon king who could kill or capture the Jurchens at will?
I thought he was someone important, but he's just a bear!
For many years, the Koreans oppressed the Jurchens, making them feel suffocated, and were considered by the Jurchens to be an untouchable force.

Who would have thought that the Korean king and his ministers would fall into such a state, almost leading to the downfall of their country.

But that's it!

Nurhaci sneered, feeling quite pleased with himself, and already had the idea of ​​raiding Korea in the future.

Strangely enough, as soon as Zhu Yin stepped ashore, the weather changed, and a sudden storm arrived.

The rain made it even colder.

"Please, angel! Please, deputy envoy!" Li Yeon personally invited Zhu Yin, Zheng Guowang, and the others into a courtyard of the so-called imperial palace.

"This place is dilapidated; please forgive me, angel. I, Li Yeon, have fallen into such a state that I am powerless to entertain you..."

After saying that, she started wiping away tears again, sighing softly.

The ministers on both sides wept together.

Seeing this, Nurhaci thought to himself, "Why does this King of Joseon cry so easily, just like Liu Bei? But his abilities are far inferior to Liu Bei's."

Zhu Yin was insightful and understood that Li Yeon, as the ruler of a country, could not cry casually.

He wants more aid.

Zhu Yin was not about to fall for that. He laughed and said, "The Book of Changes says, 'He who understands the Mandate of Heaven will have no worries.' Your Highness, the Mandate of Heaven is in the Ming Dynasty. As long as the Ming Dynasty exists, Korea will surely survive."

He pointed to Ryu Seong-ryong and other ministers, saying, “You are all His Highness’s right-hand men, loyal and pure in heart. There are gentlemen in the court and old ministers around you. His Highness has no worries about finding a confidant, nor is he alone. Even if you are in a difficult situation for a time, things will turn around and you will return to Seoul.”

"Who knows if the hardships and trials you face today are Heaven's way of testing your will and bestowing upon you a great responsibility?"

Yi Yeon opened his mouth, but swallowed his words back, instead giving a wink to Ryu Seong-ryong and other ministers.

He hadn't expected the angel to be so young yet so shrewd and experienced.

The group entered Li Yeon's "temporary palace" and found it to be quite desolate.

The autumn wind in Liaodong swept withered leaves against the windowpanes, the rotten wooden frame emitting a faint groan. The sandalwood shrine was covered with cobwebs, and the offerings on the altar were already covered with mold.

The ground was covered with overgrown weeds.

"In this situation, I truly feel ashamed before the angels!" Li Yen suddenly felt a surge of sorrow. "Even the banquet to welcome the angels is beyond my ability to organize! Even this abandoned Buddhist temple cannot provide shelter for the angels from the wind and rain!"

He recalled the scene when he received the investiture from the Ming Dynasty at Gyeongbokgung Palace. At that time, the hibiscus and chrysanthemums outside the palace walls were in full bloom. The songs of the courtesans were like celestial music.

But now…

Liu Chenglong choked back tears, saying, "Your Highness, on the day the Japanese flag was raised atop Pyongyang, I heard the Han River roar with cries like thunder. Last night, I awoke from a dream, my heart breaking. Today, seeing the angel is like a child seeing its parents; how can I not be overcome with grief..."

Zhu Yin could only feign a sorrowful expression, but inwardly he felt utterly disgusted.

Here we go again!
If he hadn't had questions for the Joseon king and his ministers, he wouldn't have entered this dilapidated palace at all.

Where can't we stay?
A sudden autumn wind swept into the Buddhist hall, ruffling Li Yeon's disheveled hair. Behind him, the judge Jin Cheng removed his official hat, revealing a white cloth bandaging his wounds, and said:

"The Japanese pirates massacred the city of Jinzhou for three days, killing 100,000 people. Women were raped and disemboweled, and infants were impaled on spearheads... The brutality and cruelty of the Japanese pirates were beyond human comprehension, and aroused the wrath of both gods and men..."

His voice stopped abruptly, his expression filled with grief and indignation.

He personally killed Japanese soldiers at Bird Ridge Pass, and the wound on his head was from that time.

Suddenly, a loud "crack" was heard from behind the Buddhist hall, followed by the sound of a woman sobbing, which sounded extremely alarming.

"What's going on?" A North Korean minister rushed to check.

But he immediately returned to report:

"Your Highness, Your Majesty, Your Majesty, several palace maids were gathering half a sack of millet under the leaky eaves to prepare food for you and Your Majesty, but they spilled it. Today's meal... alas!"

Zhu Yin was quite helpless and could only ask, "Your Highness, are you almost out of food?"

P.S.: I was in a terrible mood today, but I still managed to write 5,000 words. Now I'm going to sleep.

(End of this chapter)