After the "gold pen bidding briefing" ended, the merchants gradually left the Ministry of Taxation one by one.

Just before crossing through the ministry gates, one elderly merchant addressed a government official nearby.

"Excuse me, sir."

"What is it?"

"How old is the Crown Prince this year?"

"He is eight."

"Heavens..."

Seeing the merchant fail to hide his shock, the young official replied proudly.

"He truly is extraordinary. His Majesty himself is no ordinary man, but with the Crown Prince also so brilliant, it is a tremendous blessing for Joseon."

"Indeed it is."

After bowing politely to the official and stepping out onto the main road, the merchant suddenly felt anger bubbling inside him.

"Someone else's child acts like that at eight years old, while my own grandson...!"

At the same time, Eastern Palace.

After returning to his chambers, Hyang sat facing a single man.

It was the very same merchant who had been dragged out earlier by the officials.

"You worked hard, Eunuch Jo."

"It was nothing, Your Highness. Still... was it truly necessary to go this far?"

"Given my age, there was no other choice."

Considering Hyang's youth, Eunuch Jo slowly nodded before rising and bowing.

"This servant shall return to change clothes now."

"You worked hard."

Once production of the gold pens became privatized, the pens spread rapidly across the nation.

As the gold pens exploded into an unprecedented sensation, unusual scenes began appearing everywhere.

In Naju, Jeolla Province...

Inside the spacious wooden hall of a massive tiled-roof estate, easily exceeding forty rooms, an elderly yangban sat waiting for someone.

Soon afterward, a traveling merchant carrying a large wooden chest strapped to his back entered the courtyard.

After setting the load down beside him, the merchant bowed deeply.

"My lord, you summoned me?"

"Yes. Did you bring the gold pens?"

"I managed to bring some this time."

"Ohh, truly?"

At the delighted reaction, the merchant spread a cloth across the courtyard before carefully removing an ornate mother-of-pearl box from the large chest.

After setting it gently upon the cloth, the merchant bowed respectfully toward the box itself before lifting it and carrying it up to the wooden hall where the nobleman sat.

The moment the merchant placed the box upon the desk, the old nobleman gasped in admiration.

"Ohh! So this is...!"

Just as the emotional nobleman reached toward it, the merchant hurriedly stopped him.

"My lord! You must bow first!"

"Ah!"

At the merchant's reminder, the nobleman quickly straightened his robes and respectfully bowed before the box.

"To receive such a precious object through the deep grace of His Majesty... this humble subject is overwhelmed."

After expressing gratitude toward the king, the nobleman carefully opened the box.

Inside, resting atop soft silk lining, lay ten shining golden pen nibs together with a lacquered pen holder.

The plum blossom emblem of the royal house was clearly stamped upon both the silk lining and the nibs.

"Insert the gold nib into the holder like this..."

Following the merchant's explanation, the nobleman assembled the pen before dipping it into already prepared ink and writing upon paper.

After swiftly writing a beloved line from the classics in a single flowing stroke, he exclaimed in admiration.

"A truly noble treasure!"

As the gold pens became an enormous commercial success, smiles never left the face of the Minister of Taxation.

"The budget... the budget is growing!"

Nor was the minister alone.

The officials of the Ministry of Taxation themselves could not stop smiling either.

Ever since the founding of Joseon, no, even since the final years of Goryeo before it, state finances had never once been truly abundant.

Although the royal family's stipends had been reduced to one-sixth and officials' salaries cut to one-fourth upon Joseon's founding, the treasury still remained insufficient.

Under such circumstances, the profits generated from gold pen sales were immensely welcome.

Realistically, the sums were small, little more than "urinating on frozen ground," but even such modest additional revenue slightly expanded the government's room to maneuver.

More importantly, both Sejong and the ministers gradually began taking interest in the positive effects of commerce itself.

But beneath the surface, negative reactions also began emerging.

"How has the court fallen so low as to become merchants itself..."

"Indeed. His Majesty and the ministers show far too much favor toward commerce, an occupation fit only for base people."

"Among scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, merchants stand at the very bottom. Though technically commoners, they are scarcely different from lowborns! If this continues, we shall merely repeat the corrupt customs of the previous dynasty!"

Orthodox Neo-Confucian scholars had begun growing dissatisfied as Sejong and the ministers increasingly focused upon the revenue generated through gold pen sales.

And naturally, their criticism soon turned toward Hyang himself.

"This entire affair began with the Crown Prince."

"At such a young age, he has already strayed toward improper pursuits... This is clearly the fault of those responsible for educating him!"

"His Majesty himself is also at fault! No matter how intelligent the Crown Prince may be, he is still a child. Allowing him involvement in important affairs of state is something that must absolutely be corrected!"

"We must pay even greater attention to the Crown Prince's education! At an age when he should be reading one more line of the sages' teachings and deepening his reverence for Chinese civilization in order to shape Joseon into a true Little China, he instead wastes time on trivial crafts and gimmicks!"

"We should submit a memorial immediately!"

"Indeed!"

Just as the dissatisfied scholars prepared to rise up together, however, an unexpected event halted them.

Taejong passed away.

On May 10th, fourth year of Sejong's reign, Taejong died at the age of fifty-six.

During Taejong's funeral period, court sessions were suspended for ten days while the markets closed for five.

State affairs continued, but because the nation remained in mourning, no divisive memorials could be submitted.

"We must wait for another opportunity."

"That seems best."

Those planning to attack Hyang had no choice but to wait.

Unaware of the tensions quietly brewing beneath the surface, Hyang instead immersed himself in reading throughout Taejong's funeral period.

"Hm... so this gets translated like this?"

With several books spread open at once, Hyang carefully compared their contents.

The books he examined were works brought into China from Europe together with their Chinese translations.

Shortly before the winter solstice envoy departed for China, Hyang summoned the chief envoy personally.

"Your Highness summoned me?"

"Yes. I know preparations for the mission keep you busy, so thank you for coming."

"It is no trouble, Your Highness."

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Hyang immediately moved to the main topic.

"I have a request for you."

"A request?"

"Yes. Once you arrive in Beijing, I would like you to acquire some books for me."

"Books? Which classics should I obtain?"

"Not classics. Miscellaneous works. Books regarding medicine and... Ah! Are you familiar with the Western barbarians?"

"By Western barbarians... do you mean the colored-eyed foreigners?"

"Yes. If there are translated or original texts concerning their laws or technologies, obtain all of them for me."

"Why would Your Highness desire barbarian books...?"

When the envoy responded uncertainly, Hyang calmly explained.

"There is a saying that among any three people walking together, one may serve as my teacher. There is also the phrase, 'A stone from another mountain may polish jade.' If something can help refine myself or govern the nation, why should I refuse to learn from barbarians?"

"..."

At Hyang's answer, the envoy fell silent.

Had the person before him been an ordinary prince, he might have advised him to spend more time reading the classics instead.

But the Crown Prince before him was already acknowledged by the ministers as a genius even more terrifying than his own father.

Before turning six, he had mastered the Four Books and Three Classics.

At seven, he had completely read through the Thirteen Classics.

Despite his age, he slept less than six hours each day while studying ferociously, and by the time of his investiture as Crown Prince, he was already debating policy matters with scholarly officials.

Because of this, several younger officials fond of speaking blunt truths had even remarked:

"If the Crown Prince ever grows older and fully learns what lies beyond the palace walls, the entire court will be overturned."

And so the envoy could only bow his head.

"I shall carry out Your Highness's command with utmost sincerity."

"I leave it to you."

Afterward, every time envoys departed for Beijing, Hyang repeated similar requests.

Naturally, after the first occasion he even prepared written lists for them.

"I already possess the books listed here, so please acquire different ones."

"...Understood, Your Highness."

As a result, the envoys suffered greatly searching for books.

Although Europeans and Arabs had entered China since the Yuan era, books from those regions remained extremely rare.

"With this, the reference problem is mostly solved."

Looking at the bookshelf he had installed along one wall, now filled nearly three-quarters full, Hyang smiled faintly.

As he learned more about Joseon's industrial technology during Sejong's reign, the number of ideas he could realistically implement steadily increased.

"The problem is that if I suddenly claim I invented all of this myself, plenty of people will immediately become suspicious. Especially in medicine. In situations like this, references are better."

That realization led Hyang to gather not only Chinese texts, but also European and Middle Eastern books introduced into China.

After obtaining both original works and Chinese translations from late medieval and early Renaissance Europe, Hyang carefully began reading through them all.

"At minimum, I need to know roughly what kind of information exists in which books. That way later when I start explaining things, the stories will sound believable. There's a reason people say even lying requires knowledge."

Hyang began thinking this way because of the trouble he encountered while presenting the gold pens.

"It is certainly a useful object, but how exactly did you come up with this idea?"

When Sejong asked that question, Hyang immediately answered.

"While wetting a brush with ink for writing, I noticed something unusual."

"Something unusual?"

"I observed the ink climbing upward through the brush hairs. Water normally flows from high places downward, so seeing it move against that principle fascinated me. Thus..."

Hyang proceeded to fabricate an extremely convincing story explaining how he conceived the gold pen.

After hearing the explanation, Sejong struck his knee in admiration.

"Countless people have used brushes throughout history, yet none thought as you did! Is this not precisely an example of investigating things to attain knowledge?"

The gold pen incident had ended safely enough.

But Hyang fully understood such luck could not continue forever.

"Presenting the gold pen was merely laying groundwork to show everyone I possess talent in such matters. I couldn't just suddenly introduce things out of nowhere. But the excuse of 'it simply happened somehow' only works the first few times. To make things more convincing, I need references."

"Your Majesty, the Crown Prince has arrived."

During Taejong's funeral period, Sejong conducted state affairs from a temporary mourning shelter, reviewing memorials and reports.

At the announcement, Sejong lowered the document he had been reading.

"Let him enter."

Stepping into the shelter, Hyang bowed respectfully.

"Father. Your complexion appears poor. Have you at least eaten supper?"

"The ministers nagged me into eating."

'This stubborn man!'

Hearing the answer, Hyang nearly exploded internally.

'A meat fanatic who can't survive a single meal without meat! Even if mourning customs prevent you from eating properly, you still need real meals!'

Suppressing the urge to curse aloud, Hyang spoke earnestly.

"Father is the pillar of this nation. Though we remain in mourning, you must still care for your health."

"I shall. But what brings you here?"

"I have obtained miscellaneous books from the Western barbarians through the envoys."

"Yes. I have already heard about it. Did you find anything useful?"

"I hoped Father might judge that personally."

Until then, Sejong had been smiling comfortably as though watching his son show off a childish trick.

But now he straightened his posture and adopted a serious expression.

"Explain."

"Yes. I wish to request that Father adopt the numerical system used by the Westerners."

"The Westerners' numbers?"

"Yes. More precisely, they may be called the numbers of India. To explain in detail, these numbers originally began in India..."