"So… what is this?"
"Ginseng."
"Geen-seng…?"
"Gin-seng."
Honestly, even English pronunciation isn't that easy, is it?
If I hadn't been reborn during the critical language acquisition period—the so-called "lingual phase"—I probably wouldn't be this fluent now.
But why can't he pronounce it?
As I stared at him, the other person—the director, who had comfortably stayed in London for the nearly a year I was away in Qing—awkwardly smiled, seemingly embarrassed.
"Gin-seng… It's tricky. But what is it?"
Looking at that smile, I was reminded of the Joseon smuggler who had stood before me.
Was his name Park, or something…?
He never told me his name, so I don't know.
Honestly, expecting a smuggler to casually reveal his name to a British-Korean he barely knows is strange in itself.
—"You steam this whole and dry it?"
—"Yes. Do you know how far Britain is? It's impossible to transport it fresh. And…"
Anyway, recalling that conversation, I roughly remember thinking:
"The British really love red things."
For some reason, saying they love red things makes me think of communists…
But given that the famous Karl Marx spent about ten years in London, it's not entirely unfair.
Though he probably already had his communist ideas mostly formed by then… I imagine seeing the miserable lives of London workers only strengthened his resolve.
Anyway, don't they also love black tea?
I don't know if it tastes better than green tea…
But since they even drink black tea instead of perfectly good green tea, I figured they'd prefer red ginseng—steamed and dried—over fresh or white ginseng.
"I-I see. Well… once it's dried and consumed, it does taste good."
"But how much can you supply?"
"From the fields I own, at most enough to fill one ship."
"A ship… you mean that one?"
A boat, slightly larger than a ferry—not even a panokseon—was tied up near Guangzhou Port.
Even though Joseon strictly cracked down on smuggling, forcing most of it to happen at sea rather than in ports, what could you do?
I, Kim Taepyeong, a powerful figure and prospective knight of Britain, authorized its entry!
"Ah, yes."
"That wouldn't even fill a fifth of our cargo hold. Bring more. This… in my opinion, it'll sell for a high price."
I don't know if he was just a small fry despite his flashy silk robes, or if Joseon's ginseng production was simply low…
Well… a significant amount must be consumed domestically, and plenty is sent as tribute to Qing, so this might actually be decent…
'Well, whatever.'
Anyway, bringing silk, porcelain, and other goods from Qing would also be like printing money.
Honestly, my insistence on red ginseng is purely selfish.
I just hope… they'll eat something relatively safe—something even 21st-century Koreans could consume.
'Besides, I'm a bit of a ginseng expert.'
A close ENT friend's professor suddenly became obsessed with ginseng, so we even tried nasal irrigation with it…
It didn't seem particularly effective.
Thinking about it now, it's obvious…
But since it was done at what was considered the top hospital in the country, they did present proper theoretical background.
According to them, saponin—the main component of ginseng—has anti-diabetic, anti-hyperlipidemic, and anti-cancer effects.
Of course… it's much weaker than medications specifically targeting those diseases, and the concentration varies wildly between plants, generally being quite low.
From a strictly medical perspective, it's a health food—harmless to consume, but…
'Right now, even that doesn't exist.'
It really doesn't!
19th-century London's "medicine"…
Most of it makes you wonder whether to call it medicine or poison!
"Get more. By any means necessary."
"Ah, understood… but the payment…"
"Payment? Didn't you get it?"
"No."
"Ahh. You'll get it when you bring the ginseng."
"Ah… yes."
How did the smuggler stay in Guangzhou the entire time he was traveling to and from Joseon?
Actually, he wasn't just in Guangzhou.
There was another battle… but it was even more one-sided than the first.
This time, too, the Qing commander was seriously injured but survived—again, thanks to Liston and me.
How?
"Brother!"
"Leave it to me!"
Liston drilled open his skull…
"Brother!"
"Hmm!"
Liston suctioned out the blood.
Somehow, the two major surgeries I'd performed here ended up being drawing blood from the heart and drawing blood from the head.
—"Rumors say the Qing dynasty fears a sorcerer named Tie Pingxian."
—"Thanks to you, I heard the emperor even wet himself."
—"Is that why…? We got more than we originally demanded."
The cession of Hong Kong—something Britain had long wanted—happened as naturally as breathing.
On top of that, we gained the right to freely enter all Qing ports, and even in Shanghai, no foreign ships could enter without British permission.
Thus, Britain gained overwhelming influence over the entire southern and eastern coasts of Qing.
So, I traveled between Guangzhou, Hong Kong, and Shanghai for a while…
During that time, our British sailors, of course, caught syphilis.
"Pyeong, why do you keep wandering around when you're so busy?"
"Sorry, brother. It's about the ginseng."
"Ah… that. You said it's effective and could sell for a high price?"
"Yes. And we agreed not to touch that item."
"Good."
This wasn't just a venture involving Liston and me—Sir Jamie was in on it too.
They always preach "for the country, for the king, for the British Empire," but we British don't exactly set aside personal profit.
That's why they even dared to consider using warships as merchant vessels…
Thankfully, things resolved more smoothly.
Because the Lord Amherst was still in Qing.
"You… called for me?"
Captain Rees of that ship responded to my summons.
To be precise, mine and Liston's.
We were in the middle of feeding arsenic compounds to sailors with syphilis, so we weren't in the best mood.
Frankly, some guys were out having fun enough to catch syphilis, while others were stuck in port without rest because of it.
"Ah, you're here?"
"And this is?"
"Ah, I am Pastor Gützlaff. I serve as the ship's chaplain and interpreter. It's an honor to meet you both."
"Wow… you must be good at Chinese. Right?"
"Yes, yes."
"Good. From now on, cooperate with a Joseon merchant named Park."
At Liston's words, Captain Rees's face became quite a sight.
How should I describe it?
It wasn't just darkening…
Anyway, it looked much worse than before.
But he didn't say anything.
Why?
Because he was scared.
The reputation of the Kim Taepyeong-Liston bloodletting duo was already legendary around here.
"The… orders we received…"
After a long pause, he finally spoke like a guilty man, but it was meaningless.
"Ah, you mean Lord Lindsay?"
"Ah, yes. Correct."
Actually, the Lord Amherst was sent by Hugh Hamilton Lindsay, a viscant—someone we couldn't easily interfere with.
But behind us was His Grace the Duke of Jamie.
Plus, I've built goodwill with the princess through dissections…
And simultaneously, thanks to my participation in this expedition and unintentionally performing two impressive bloodletting procedures, I've accumulated enough merit to be knighted upon return.
I have nothing to fear.
In fact, the matter had already been settled at higher levels.
"The East India Company will contact you separately soon. The Lord Amherst has been requisitioned for military purposes. Here, look at this."
Liston showed him a document with an official seal.
It was sent urgently by Jamie, who had thought of tea when I mentioned ginseng.
"Ah… military purposes? Then why… with a Joseon merchant…"
"Why did you go to Joseon, then?"
"Huh?"
"No, never mind. Anyway, work with them to buy up all the ginseng in Joseon."
"We haven't… received trade permission. Dr. Liston."
"Fucka."
"Pardon?"
This time, I also looked at Liston.
Why did he suddenly swear in the middle of a conversation?
"Fucka is a master of maritime smuggling."
Ah…
Anyway, these guys have a real talent for making names sound like curses.
Well, since I'm not Mr. Park, I decided to stay quiet.
It's not like speaking up would change anything.
Even Captain Rees, the leader among these rough sailors, was struggling to breathe properly just from looking at Liston.
"Ah… but they might have trouble acquiring ginseng, so provide support—guns and such."
"Does that mean we can trade with Joseon? Is that why the requisition…?"
"Don't ask for details. Just do as you're told."
"Well…"
Perhaps angered by the one-sidedness, the captain raised his head, which he had been bowing.
Then he faced me—the one who drew blood from hearts and heads—and Liston, who just looked terrifying.
"Understood."
He almost simultaneously bowed his head again and replied.
As he tried to leave, I stopped him.
Not the captain—I stopped the pastor.
"Excuse me, Pastor?"
"Ah, yes."
"You don't speak Korean, do you?"
"No, but doesn't Fucka speak Qing language?"
"He stumbles in English too, so it should be fine."
"Then I…?"
I looked at Liston.
Liston nodded.
He was watching our apprentices and military doctors still working hard in the background.
"Let me do some sightseeing."
"Sightseeing…? We're an invading force. The situation isn't even stable yet…"
"You don't need to worry about safety."
"Ah, will soldiers be coming?"
"A few will, but Brother Liston is here."
"Ah…"
If he came from the East Indies, he couldn't not know us.
We even sailed there and cut up corpses.
Once, Liston got so angry at a rapidly decomposing body that he sliced up the entire ship…
That's when I realized Mihawk from One Piece wasn't an exaggeration.
Anyway, thanks to the pastor, we did some decent sightseeing, and thanks to Captain Rees and Fucka, we returned to London loaded with red ginseng.
Hearing this story, the director looked impressed.
"Indeed… amazing. It could even be a book."
"Right?"
"But what exactly is this that caused such a fuss? I'm getting curious."
He then looked at the red ginseng I had laid out.
His eyes were already filled with greed.