The Fortunes of Yoo

In the days of King Se-jong, there lived a man from Yong-nam named Yoo. He had studied the classics, passed his examinations and become a minor official at the Confucian College. He was not even of the sixth rank, so promotion was out of the question. He was a countryman with no friends and no influence, and though he had lived in Seoul for a long time, he had no hope of rising. So, discouraged and lonely, he decided to leave the city and go home to the country.

A palace secretary who knew him came to say goodbye before he left. Seizing the chance, Yoo said, “I’ve been in Seoul a long time, but I’ve never seen the royal secretaries’ office. Could I come with you some day when you’re on duty?”

“In the daytime,” said the secretary, “there’s always a crowd of people there on business, and no one gets in without a special pass. But I’m going in tomorrow and plan to spend the night, so in the evening we’ll have a good chance to look around the palace. As a rule no one is allowed to sleep there, but doing it just this one time won’t be noticed.” He told the guard who escorted him to bring Yoo in the next day.

So the next evening, as arranged, Yoo made his way into the palace grounds, but to his surprise the secretary, for some reason, had not come. The gates had closed behind him, so he could not get out. He was really in a fix. One of the secretary’s personal servants happened to be in the room, and feeling sorry for the stranger, he found him a hidden corner where he could spend the night and slip away quietly in the morning.

The night was beautifully clear, and everyone seemed to be asleep except Yoo, who lay wide awake, wondering whether he might creep out and look around. It was the rainy season, and part of the wall just in front had collapsed. So Yoo climbed over the broken wall and, without knowing where he was going, suddenly found himself in the royal quarters. It was a lovely park with trees, lakes and paths. “Whose house is this, with such a beautiful garden?” he wondered.

Suddenly a man in a fine new cap appeared, carrying a staff and walking slowly toward him with a servant. It was none other than King Se-jong, taking a moonlit stroll with one of his attendants. Yoo had no idea it was the King. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?” His Majesty asked.

Yoo told him who he was: how he had arranged to come in with the secretary, how the secretary had not turned up, how the gates had shut and left him a prisoner for the night, and how, seeing the bright moonlight, he had wanted to walk outside and had climbed over the broken wall. “Whose house is this, anyway?” he asked.

“I am the master of this house,” said the King. He invited Yoo in and had him sit on a mat beside him, and they talked together. The King learned that Yoo had passed special examinations in the classics and asked why he had never had a better post. Yoo replied that he was an unknown countryman from a family without influence, and that though he wanted office, the powerful families of the capital always got there first. “Who would bother about me?” he said. “So all my hopes have come to nothing, and I’ve just decided to leave the city, go home and live out my days there.”

“You know the classics so well,” said the King. “Do you also know something of the Book of Changes?”

“Not the deeper parts,” said Yoo, “only the easier ones.”

The King had an attendant bring the Book of Changes, for he happened to be studying it himself at that time. The book was opened in the moonlight, and the King turned to a passage that had given him particular trouble. Yoo explained it character by character, making the meaning perfectly clear. The King was delighted and amazed, and the two of them read together all night long. When they parted, the King sighed, “You have all this learning, and no one has ever made use of it? Alas for my country!”

Yoo said he would like to go straight home now, if the master would kindly open the door for him. But the King said it was still too early and he might be arrested by the guards. “Go back to where you were,” he said, “and when it is broad daylight, you can leave by the open gate.” So Yoo said goodbye, climbed back over the broken wall to his corner in the secretary’s room and, when morning came, walked out through the main gate and went home.

The following day the King sent a special secretary to appoint Yoo Overseer of Literature. When this was announced, the officials gathered in the public court and protested indignantly against giving such a high post to an unknown man. “If you are so against it, I’ll give it up,” said His Majesty.

But the next day he appointed Yoo to a post one rank higher. The officials all protested, and His Majesty said, “Really, if you object so much, I’ll drop the matter.” The day after that he appointed him one rank higher still. Each time they protested, and each time the King seemed to give in, and each next day he promoted Yoo higher, until at last he wrote out his appointment as Vice-President of all the scholars.

The high officials met and asked one another what the King meant and what they should do. “If we don’t stop this somehow, he’ll make him President of the scholars!” They decided to let the matter rest for now and see later what was best.

When a royal banquet was announced and all the officials gathered, the chief ministers said quietly to the King, “It is not right for so obscure a person to hold so important a post. Your Majesty’s promotions have thrown the whole government into dismay, and every time we protest, you promote him even further. May we ask Your Majesty’s reason?”

The King did not answer. Instead he had an attendant bring the Book of Changes, opened it at the difficult passage and asked what it meant. Not one of the highest ministers could answer. He asked them one by one, by name, but all were silent.

“I take great interest in the Book of Changes,” said the King, “for it is the great book of the sages. Surely anyone who understands it deserves promotion. Not one of you can grasp its meaning, while Yoo, whom you object to, has explained it all to me. Now what do you have to say? Yoo’s promotion is just as it should be. Why do you object? I shall promote him more and more, so stop all this opposition.”

The ministers were frightened and ashamed, and none of them raised the matter a second time. From then on Yoo became the King’s teacher of the Book of Changes, and he rose higher and higher in rank until he became Head of the Confucian College, the most influential scholar of all.

Im Bang, who wrote the story down, marveled at it. Many able people never get the chance to rise, he said, for it is hard to make one’s gifts known in high places, and harder still to make them known to a king. Yoo had done wrong in wandering uninvited into the palace, yet by royal favor he was pardoned, welcomed and honored, and a single explanation of the Book of Changes opened his way to high office. Such things are rare, and people wondered at Yoo’s luck, but Im Bang wondered more at the wisdom of the King who found him. King Se-jong’s goodness and achievements were still known in Im Bang’s day, so that the world calls him Korea’s King of the Golden Age.

About this story

“The Fortunes of Yoo” comes from Korean Folk Tales: Imps, Ghosts and Fairies, the collection of Im Bang’s stories that James Scarth Gale translated in 1913. Its hero meets King Se-jong, who reigned from 1418 to 1450 and is remembered as one of Korea’s greatest rulers; he is honored above all for creating the Korean alphabet, hangul.

The story turns on the Book of Changes, the ancient Chinese classic of divination and philosophy that scholars studied for a lifetime. Im Bang’s closing note, which Gale includes, also mentions a second lucky scholar from a companion tale; this retelling keeps only the part about Yoo.

Read the original: Korean Folk Tales: Imps, Ghosts and Fairies (Project Gutenberg)

Best for all ages — a forgotten scholar, a moonlit garden and a king who knows true learning when he sees it.

The test comes after the appointment

The king has heard Yoo explain a difficult passage; the ministers know only his low rank and lack of connections. Their objections therefore concern status before they concern ability. The repeated promotions turn opposition into a comic escalation, but the banquet finally supplies the evidence they had ignored. Chance gives Yoo access; learning lets him use it.

Compare reasons for promotion

List the king’s reason and the ministers’ objection in their own words. Which can be demonstrated with the book? What would a fair selection process need so that a capable scholar did not have to meet a ruler by accident?

Questions to ask

• Why was Yoo about to leave Seoul?
• How did Yoo end up meeting the King without knowing who he was?
• How did the King prove to his ministers that Yoo deserved his promotions?

You may also like

• The Grateful Ghost — another scholar helped to success in the examinations
• The Geomancer — another Korean tale of an expert whose knowledge is rewarded
• Cheung Puk-chang, the Seer — another tale from Gale’s collection