The court, as always, was in turmoil.
Although the State Council had given its approval, that did not mean the entire country agreed. There were still many Confucian scholars outside its influence, and local gentry continued to maintain their presence.
Those near Hanseong at least understood the current situation to some extent, but beyond Gyeonggi Province, most scholars remained bound to old customs.
They still believed Confucian values were supreme and that Eastern thought was clearly superior to the West. Memorials continued to pour in, insisting that Western learning would corrupt the nation and must be rejected. Some even demanded that the treaty with Britain be delayed.
The king had suppressed such voices for now, but the unrest had not disappeared. Until true reform took root, the embers would remain.
As expected, once rumors of the crown prince selection spread, petitions flooded in like rain.
"Your Majesty! How can one of those Western barbarians be involved in establishing the foundation of the state!"
"Your Majesty! Will you abandon the way of Confucianism for heretical teachings!"
Already weakened, the king found it suffocating to read such memorials.
"How should I deal with such ignorance…"
"Your Majesty, the scholars are preparing a mass petition."
"…They are truly foolish."
The petition was led by scholars such as Yi Gwang-ro and Yi Man-son.
The content was predictable. Western goods were dismissed as luxurious and corrupting, leading people away from moral cultivation and righteousness. They argued that Joseon must distance itself from the West and preserve virtue.
The king stopped reading midway.
These arguments were detached from reality.
He recalled reports that in Britain, information could travel across the continent almost instantly. Meanwhile, Joseon still relied on physically transporting lengthy, meaningless writings.
Was this truly the way of the gentleman?
Could a civilized people live less effectively than those they called barbarians?
"In times like these, what good is clinging only to virtue?"
The king made his decision.
"You know what order I will give."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I will have the leaders of the petition confined."
"Do so. But not within Joseon."
"…Then where?"
"Select the most influential among them and send them to Shanghai. From there, have them observe the colonies of the Western powers. Let them see reality for themselves."
"…Your Majesty…"
Even he had only heard of such conditions through reports.
But if they witnessed it firsthand and returned, their words would carry far more weight.
"His Highness Killian will soon arrive. I will propose this directly."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Then, lowering his voice, the king added quietly,
"If he comes to Hanseong… is there a chance his past in Joseon might be revealed?"
"…Unless he reveals it himself, no one knows anything."
"That is what troubles me."
If something from the past surfaced, especially something unfavorable, it could complicate matters far beyond the succession.
"Your Majesty, if there had been an issue, it would have surfaced long ago. There is no need to worry."
"…You are right."
The king nodded slowly.
Too many uncertainties already existed.
He could not afford more.
"Master has been arrested? That makes no sense!"
The scholars had not expected their petition to be ignored so completely.
They had anticipated resistance, but not exile, and certainly not so swiftly.
"Why has this happened?"
"The court has issued its reasoning."
The decree accused them of slandering the throne and spreading harmful rhetoric while remaining ignorant of the wider world. It declared that although their loyalty was acknowledged, they would be exiled rather than executed.
The young scholar clenched his fists.
"How can His Majesty fail to recognize such loyalty?"
"I have fulfilled my duty as a scholar. I have no regrets."
"…Master…"
As he reread the decree, something felt strange.
"The place of exile is not specified."
"That is unusual. Perhaps the court has not yet decided."
Even so, they assumed it would be somewhere within Joseon.
They were wrong.
Watching his teacher being taken away, the young scholar Choe Ik-hyeon burned with anger.
If necessary, he would go to Hanseong himself and demand justice.
The year 1852 came to an end, and 1853 began.
For most, it was just another year.
For me, it marked a turning point.
As soon as my journey to Joseon was decided, I reported to Britain that I would act independently to handle the rapidly evolving situation in Asia.
At the same time, I sent proposals to France and Prussia.
Rather than each acting alone, we could jointly support Qing in suppressing the Taiping movement. A shared burden, a shared benefit.
To France, I argued that gaining Qing's favor would make separating Vietnam easier.
To Prussia, I pointed out that allowing France to gain influence alone would be disadvantageous.
Both accepted immediately.
Even Austria, hearing of it, requested to join.
Thus, a multinational force composed of Britain, France, Prussia, and Austria was set to assist Qing.
With that arranged, I departed Shanghai with the prepared fleet.
At last, I set foot once more on the land I had left behind.
"Your Highness! Welcome back!"
The reception was overwhelming.
Officials, soldiers, music, all prepared on a grand scale.
It was as if a king had arrived.
Perhaps, in their eyes, I was being treated as one.
"His Highness Killian Gore, welcome to Joseon!"
As I stepped down, an elderly official approached and bowed.
"I am Chief State Councillor Kwon Don-in. His Majesty has ordered me to escort you to the palace."
"I am honored."
Behind him stood the Left State Councillor and the Minister of Rites.
Among them was a familiar face from Dongnae.
I acknowledged him briefly, but my attention shifted elsewhere.
An unexpected face.
Someone I had once considered finding.
And he, too, looked at me with uncertainty.
"Left State Councillor, are you unwell?"
"…No, it is nothing."
I stepped forward and extended my hand.
"It is a pleasure to meet you."
"…Yes… I am Kim Hak-seo."
As he bowed, I smiled faintly.
Twenty years.
And now, we meet again.