Chapter 1038: Interrogating Prisoners
The Haenyeo took in the extraordinary appearance of the men before them—surely high-ranking officials among these "bald-haired pirates." Though unlettered in matters of the wider world, they understood well enough that before such authority, only submission could minimize suffering and preserve their lives. They prostrated themselves with expressions of complete deference.
The exchange that followed proved awkward. Twenty-first-century Korean and seventeenth-century Jeju dialect diverged considerably, and both Feng Zongze and Nangong Wudi possessed only elementary proficiency. Gesturing wildly between phrases, they struggled to make themselves understood. Fortunately, Korean—like Japanese—existed as something of a linguistic island, relatively isolated and resistant to dramatic change over centuries. After considerable effort involving body language, facial expressions, and liberal use of "smida," Feng Zongze finally established workable communication.
From the Haenyeo, they learned these sea women had indeed come from a nearby fishing village—a community populated almost entirely by women. The men had mostly perished at sea over the years, victims of storms that claimed their fishing vessels. Over generations, these losses had transformed the settlement into a Haenyeo village where women dominated. The women sustained themselves primarily through diving, harvesting various seafood to process into dried goods for sale to merchants.
Life was brutally hard. The meager income from selling dried abalone, sea cucumber, and other products, exchanged for small quantities of grain and supplemented by their catch, barely kept starvation at bay. Contrary to the Senators' assumptions, Jeju Island was not self-sufficient in grain and depended on imports from the Korean Peninsula. Though the Haenyeo couldn't speak to larger matters, the older women all agreed that the population had been declining for the past decade or more, with many islanders migrating to the mainland.
In recent years, the island had suffered continuous natural disasters. Court relief arrived both meager and late, and many had starved to death or fled. Numerous nearby villages now stood abandoned.
As for conditions elsewhere on the island, the Haenyeo knew little—they rarely ventured far from home. Merchants came to the village monthly to buy seafood and sell grain. Some villagers had visited Jeju City. Since Jeongui County lay close by, quite a few had been there.
Feng Zongze sat up straighter. "What is the population of Jeongui County? How many soldiers are stationed there? How large is the city?"
"My Lord, we are but ignorant and lowly women," replied the Haenyeo who answered—a relatively clever-looking woman of twenty-five or twenty-six who had served as informal spokesperson throughout. She bowed her head respectfully. "We slave-maids cannot understand clearly what the Lords ask. If our answers displease, we beg forgiveness. This slave-maid does not know Jeongui County's population—only that households within the city walls are few, with two villages outside. The total comes to perhaps two or three thousand souls."
The garrison, she estimated, numbered around two hundred soldiers. When asked about the city's dimensions, she had no concept of measurements and could not explain clearly. She did mention, however, that a large government granary within the city stored considerable quantities of grain.
This was valuable intelligence. Feng Zongze and Nangong Wudi exchanged eager glances—grain was their paramount concern. Especially given what they'd heard about Jeju Island's precarious food situation...
"I've heard there are many cattle and horses here. Where are they kept?"
"The cattle and horses are all in the mountains near Hallasan," the Haenyeo answered. "They roam across the slopes and plains there. We have few animals in this area—" The reason, she explained, was insufficient water. The seaside lacked adequate sources for livestock, which required substantial drinking water. Only springs existed here.
Feng Zongze nodded with satisfaction. "What is your name?"
The Haenyeo hesitated. "Reporting to my Lord: this lowly maid is of the Pan clan."
This was not truly a name—but even in 1930s China, many women in remote rural areas spent their entire lives known only as "Clan So-and-So." Haenyeo occupied commoner status, only marginally above public and private slaves. Having no given name was perfectly normal.
"Are you an Sang-gun?" he asked suddenly, using the Korean term for a senior-ranked diver.
The Haenyeo's eyes widened momentarily before she hurriedly lowered her head again. "This lowly maid is young—only a Jung-gun."
The ranks of Sang-gun and Jung-gun existed within the Haenyeo community's internal hierarchy, a progression from "Child Sang-gun" through Ha-gun, Jung-gun, and Sang-gun, finally reaching the elite status of Dae Sang-gun. These titles circulated exclusively among Jeju Island's sea women; even Joseon Dynasty officials and scholar-bureaucrats might be unfamiliar with them. That a foreign pirate should know such terminology surprised the woman considerably.
Nangong Wudi and Xue Ziliang posed additional questions about local conditions. The Haenyeo could answer some and not others; clearly, further interrogation would yield little additional value.
Feng Zongze instructed the guards to take them away. "Give each one a relief biscuit and a bowl of hot soup. Let them retrieve their clothes and fishing tools."
"What, we're keeping them?" Nangong Wudi's interest in the Haenyeo had waned considerably. Though their figures were acceptable and two were quite young, their faces held little appeal for him.
"Keep them temporarily. We'll decide what to do with them after interrogating the soldiers." Feng Zongze harbored no romantic notions about the Haenyeo—his interest was purely administrative. He intended to employ them in civil affairs work. According to Du Wen's article "How to Apply Class Theory in Civil Affairs Work," the oppressed class were natural rebels and potential collaborators. Haenyeo endured low status and harsh lives, possessing both the desire and motivation for revolutionary change.
Next came the soldiers. According to the Special Reconnaissance Detachment's report, the beacon tower had housed only five garrison troops. When the detachment appeared without warning, the soldiers hadn't even attempted resistance—they had simply tried to flee. Their will to fight appeared absolutely nonexistent.
One look at these captives confirmed that assessment. The soldiers were emaciated, clearly underfed for extended periods. Their battle jackets were tattered and faded. They possessed no armor, wore only bamboo hats, and carried weapons of shocking crudity. The Senators had examined Ming army equipment captured during the Battle of Chengmai and various miscellaneous arms discarded by pirates. But these Joseon soldiers' weapons and equipment failed to match even large pirate bands. There were no firearms of the kind already common in Ming armies. The shafts of their spears were absurdly short—at most 1.7 meters—useless for anything beyond ceremonial display. Their swords were equally crude. Only the bows and arrows showed any quality of workmanship.
The Joseon Dynasty under the Yi family styled itself "Little China." In its disdain for military matters, it not only looked to the Ming Dynasty as a model but exceeded it—for the Ming at least maintained small numbers of elite household troops as the core of their fighting forces.
Studying these soldiers and their weapons, Nangong Wudi thought: If I were Kinoshita Tokichiro, I'd have invaded Joseon too—what difference is there between this army and a field of scarecrows?
The soldiers quickly confessed everything they knew. As garrison troops, they had been transferred frequently across the island. Moreover, their commander had served here for more than twenty years, having been stationed at nearly every defense post. He knew far more than the Haenyeo.
From their testimony, Nangong Wudi learned the island's total military strength: three Divisions of roughly five hundred men each, for a regular army of fifteen hundred—lower than the two thousand they had originally estimated.
The Moksa had repeatedly petitioned the court to expand the Jeju garrison to five Divisions, forming a full battalion. However, with constant natural and man-made disasters plaguing the realm, the court was overwhelmed and possessed neither the will nor the resources to strengthen Jeju Island's defenses. Fortunately, since the Tokugawa Seclusion, the scourge of Japanese pirates had diminished considerably, making the situation barely manageable.
Because Jeju Island's primary threat came from the sea, these three Divisions were dispersed across the coastline. Jeju City garrisoned five hundred men; Daejeong and Jeongui counties each housed more than two hundred. Additionally, nine garrison posts called Po—ports similar to the Ming Dynasty's Wei-Suo system—defended strategic positions. Each Po maintained thirty to fifty soldiers, positioned at bays providing access to the island and arranged along the coastline in a pattern that fully embodied coastal defense doctrine. Eighteen beacon towers, each staffed by five soldiers, completed the network.
The Joseon army did possess artillery. Various garrisons and cities maintained small quantities, though nothing comparable to the Ming army's Red Barbarian Cannons.
Viewed this way, the largest concentration of heavy troops amounted to merely five hundred men in Jeju City. A single infantry company could annihilate them with ease.
As for naval forces, the Joseon Dynasty maintained essentially no warships on the island—only a handful of small boats for coastal patrol.
"Name every official on this island!" Feng Zongze commanded. "One by one!"
"Yes. The Jeju Observer is Lord Yi Jin-gyeong. The Judge is Lord Yi Dae-ha. The Daejeong Magistrate is Lord Yi Gu. The Jeongui Magistrate is Lord Choi In-geon."
The Jeju Observer served as the Joseon Dynasty's highest-ranking official on the island—a third-rank civil position. The Judge held the highest military authority.
"How many official slaves are on this island, and where are they located?"
Official slaves interested the Senators most keenly—they were ideal candidates for collaboration. At minimum, even if these slaves lacked revolutionary consciousness, they represented the most readily available labor force.
"The government offices of Jeju, Daejeong, and Jeongui all maintain official slaves. This lowly one does not know the total number, but there must be tens of thousands. Many starved or fled during the famine some years ago..."
The Forward Command found the soldiers' confessions thoroughly satisfactory, having obtained substantial detailed intelligence.
After ordering the prisoners removed, the Forward Command held a brief meeting and concluded that delay invited complication. Troops must be dispatched immediately to seize the three cities, confiscating all stored grain. The various garrisons must be disarmed. Simultaneously, they would secure the island's principal ports.
Nangong Wudi proposed a combined-arms special task force mixing infantry and artillery. The infantry would march overland along the island's official roads while artillery and supplies would move by the large motorized boats and rowboats accompanying the fleet, maneuvering along the coastline. Of Jeju's three counties, only Jeongui lay inland; both Jeju and Daejeong fronted the sea, making naval supply support highly convenient.
For prudence's sake, they decided to capture Jeongui County first—being closest to the Seongsan base—gaining firsthand understanding of the Joseon army's combat effectiveness and fortification systems before determining their next moves.
Jeongui County corresponded to South Korea's Seongeup Folk Village in the original timeline. When the South Korean government developed tourism, the old county seat had been restored and reconstructed as a heritage site. Though not directly on the coast, it lay quite close to Seongsan, connected by a passable road. Both Xue Ziliang and Nangong Wudi had visited this folk village in their previous lives. However, it had been built in later generations as a reconstruction; despite claims of restoration and historical research, no one could guarantee how closely it resembled the original.
Author's Note: Materials on Joseon-era Jeju Island provided by SB forum member Beiyu.
Haenyeo ranking system derived from the novel "Jewel in the Palace" (Dae Jang Geum).
(End of Chapter)