Free Web NovelThe right-hand man of Chairman Kim Jongil, the second most powerful figure controlling North Korea’s economy.
That was the common assessment of Jang Songthaek.
“Mr. Kim, you should choose your words more carefully.”
Jang Songthaek spoke in a stiff tone.
Wen Jiabao also shook his head.
“The second most powerful figure, you say...”
“That’s how it’s known in South Korea.”
He faced resistance from some quarters, but there was no denying that, with China’s backing and Kim Jongil’s trust, Jang Songthaek was a power among powers.
Jang Songthaek let out a long sigh, as if trying to mask his displeasure.
“In any case, please refrain from making such direct remarks. Words like that could drive me into a corner.”
“I understand. I think our conversation is straying from the point. In any case, I cannot be involved in hiding slush funds.”
My flat refusal, without even the smallest concession, made our eyes meet in midair.
Sensing that the atmosphere in the reception room was becoming uncomfortably heavy, Wen Jiabao stepped in.
“Mr. Kim, then please introduce a reliable broker. Wouldn’t that be an acceptable compromise?”
“Vice Premier, that kind of thing—”
“The world is wide, and there are plenty of brokers who don’t care about the Americans. But among all those people, the problem for Director Jang is that he doesn’t have anyone he can truly trust.”
Wen Jiabao glanced over at Jang Songthaek.
“Wouldn’t it be good to settle for such a compromise? Right, Director Jang?”
“Yes, that’s right, Vice Premier.”
Wen Jiabao looked back at me.
His eyes urged me to reach an agreement at this point.
“A broker, huh?”
“I imagine Mr. Kim knows trustworthy brokers he could entrust this to.” ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
“Even without me, there are plenty of decent brokers out there.”
The conversation continued to run in parallel.
Just as irritation began to rise, Wen Jiabao spoke in a subtle tone.
“In matters like this, trust is important. There are people who think slush funds are just free money to snatch.”
“Then do you trust me?”
It might have sounded brazen, but Wen Jiabao laughed loudly and replied.
“Why else would I ask you to handle the laundering? Precisely because you have no reason to covet my slush funds, isn’t that so?”
“...Is that so? Very well.”
With Wen Jiabao putting it that way, it was hard to keep refusing.
Reluctantly, I shook my head as if yielding and asked Jang Songthaek one last time.
“I’ll connect you with a broker as soon as possible. Since it seems you want me to take responsibility if a problem arises, I’ll do so under the Vice Premier’s guarantee, in case of any contingency. Will that suffice?”
At that, the stiffness in Jang Songthaek’s face gave way to a smile again.
“Will you really?”
“Yes, but an agent will handle it. I will step back from this matter.”
“Fine, that’s good.”
It seemed that the only thing that mattered to him was that I would stand as guarantor if trouble arose; the rest was irrelevant.
“Director Jang, then please tell me about Mr. Jang Daeho’s family.”
“Very well. Jang Daeho’s family is currently living in Daegwan. Jang Seokdo and Jang Mido—both are married with families of their own and several children. His wife died in the 1970s.”
Details of Jang Daeho’s family—something I hadn’t been able to learn no matter how much I investigated—flowed easily from Jang Songthaek’s mouth.
“How’s their financial situation?”
“I can’t say it’s good. Their background isn’t favorable, so they live under government surveillance.”
Still, knowing they were living as families eased my mind somewhat. I only hoped their circumstances weren’t dire enough to worry about.
“Do you have any photos or documents where I can confirm their appearance?”
Jang Songthaek nodded and pressed a bell.
A secretary waiting outside entered and handed him a large envelope.
“These are family photos of Jang Seokdo and Jang Mido. There’s also the last photo taken of Lee Sunok before she died.”
Inside the envelope were several photos and documents listing personal details.
I studied one of the photos attached to the documents.
A family portrait taken in front of a house that looked ready to collapse.
In it was a man smiling happily with his family.
He looked older than his years, likely from hardship, but I could see Jang Daeho’s face.
“He looks a lot like his father. But why on earth didn’t he even respond to the separated families reunion? His family is alive.”
“I only learned about this man, Jang Daeho, while looking into the matter at the Vice Premier’s request. I heard he was an exploitative landlord.”
The unexpected statement made my brow furrow instinctively.
The Jang Daeho I knew would never have been like that.
He was the kind of man who quietly looked after his surroundings and helped those in need without seeking recognition.
“They say he fled south during the chaos of the Fatherland Liberation War to avoid government surveillance.”
Jang Songthaek’s tone was cold.
Coming from someone who served a dictator who took power in such chaos, the hypocrisy was galling.
But I didn’t show it.
“You can imagine how a reactionary’s family would be treated. Sending such a person’s family to a separated families reunion would be unthinkable from the Party’s perspective.”
Instead of answering, I set down the photos and picked up the documents containing the family tree and detailed personal information.
I’d heard North Korea didn’t have a proper resident registration system, but the records were surprisingly detailed.
“The personal details are quite thorough.”
“Yes, they were easy to find. They’re under special management.” freewёbnoνel.com
I put the documents and photos back in the envelope and asked,
“When can you bring them out?”
“After the North–South summit, I’ll have them brought to China. But you’ll have to visit the North, of course.”
Perhaps to drive the point home, Jang Songthaek emphasized it again.
“This is the Chairman’s will. In the North, nothing can be done without his approval.”
After the North–South summit...
If it was the Chairman’s request, there was no way to refuse.
I nodded slowly.
“Understood. Please make the request to the South Korean government again, then I’ll proceed by accepting.”
“Hahaha. Good, good.”
Satisfied at getting his way, Jang Songthaek laughed heartily, and I smiled faintly in return.
“Well then, since it seems we’ve reached an agreement, let’s all have a drink.”
Wen Jiabao, who had been quietly observing, summoned a butler.
Before long, a table set with drinks arrived.
“Mr. Kim, this is a fine liquor.”
Pouring me a drink, Wen Jiabao introduced it.
“It’s called Bouteille du Siècle. A bottle goes for two hundred thousand dollars, hahaha.”
He then poured drinks for Jang Songthaek and himself, raising his glass.
“To meeting a friend who understands me over drinks— even a thousand cups wouldn’t be enough.”
Jang Songthaek responded with his own toast.
“When hearts don’t connect, even half a word is too much.”
Matching them, I offered an appropriate toast and clinked glasses.
The French cognac sliding down my throat was exquisite.
An involuntary exclamation escaped my lips.
“Wow...”
“Haha. Mr. Kim, how is it?”
“It’s excellent.”
“Try the food as well. These are the works of a master chef.”
The dishes laid before me were just as good, and I could feel how determined Wen Jiabao was to treat me well.
“Mr. Kim, don’t be so consumed by work. Enjoy life a little. Sometimes you seem like a man being chased by something.”
He refilled my glass as he spoke.
Do I really look like I’m being chased?
“Is that so?”
“If a man only runs, he’ll collapse eventually. Sometimes it’s good to take a break.”
Come to think of it, Chairman Song had told me something similar not long ago.
He was the only non-family member ever allowed to visit my grandfather.
Chairman Song, who had silently looked at my grandfather lying in his hospital bed, offered me a quiet piece of advice before leaving.
“You should rest too. Even when you’re in a hurry, sometimes you have to take the long way around. I’m telling you this as a friend of that rascal Cheon Taesan, so keep it in mind.”
The sound of clinking glasses didn’t stop.
As the drinking wore on, Wen Jiabao’s expression relaxed.
“How wonderful, for the three of us to be drinking together like this. Ten years ago, who would’ve thought such a thing could happen?”
Jang Songthaek set down his glass and agreed.
“That’s true. There’s no real reason for the North and South to fight. This is all America’s fault, isn’t it, Mr. Kim?”
“Well... wouldn’t relations improve if the North and South learned to acknowledge their differences?”
I gave a vague answer, and Jang Songthaek asked curiously,
“Mr. Kim, do you think there’s room for improvement in inter-Korean relations?”
“That’s for the politicians to decide. What does my opinion matter?”
“I’m curious about the perspective of a businessman, not a politician. I want to open the market like China has—so that the people can make a living.”
It was a heavy topic for bar talk, but since he asked for a businessman’s view, I rolled the empty glass in my hand and replied.
“Wouldn’t that be difficult? It would be hard to maintain the regime. There are too many obstacles for things to go the way you imagine, Director Jang.”
There was a market economy in North Korea as well.
Of course, the Party didn’t recognize private property, but with state rations all but cut off, people had to ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ fend for themselves, and markets had naturally formed as a result.
“You know what the biggest problem is, don’t you, Director Jang?”
“Mm...”
He only made a pained sound, giving no answer.
Well, given how sensitive he was about being called “the second most powerful man,” there was no way he would speak such thoughts aloud.
Having once suffered under ideological re-education due to political checks on his power, Jang Songthaek was bound to be cautious with every move.
At that moment, Wen Jiabao, perhaps loosened by drink, spoke bluntly.
“Just as Mr. Kim said, the North is different. Too much power is concentrated in one person. Isn’t that right, Director Jang?”
“...”
At those words, Jang Songthaek lifted his glass and drank as if to swallow whatever he’d been about to say.
Wen Jiabao smirked, then turned to me.
“I think Director Jang still feels awkward with you, Mr. Kim. Personally, I think he’d make a good ruler for the North. Don’t you agree, Mr. Kim?”
Before I could reply, Jang Songthaek burst out,
“Vice Premier!”
But Wen Jiabao narrowed his eyes and chided him.
“Come now, am I wrong? This isn’t a monarchy—hereditary succession is nonsense. Learn from our Party.”
“I would prefer you refrain from such remarks when others are present, Vice Premier.”
“Ah, you’re no fun.”
I couldn’t help but laugh inwardly.
In twenty years, China would be no different from North Korea.
All power would be concentrated in Xi Jinping’s hands, setting the stage for long-term rule—so who was anyone here to criticize?
Thanks to Wen Jiabao’s remark, the buoyant atmosphere dimmed slightly.
To shift the mood, I changed the subject toward Jang Songthaek.
“Director Jang, you hold your liquor well.”
“Hahaha, I do enjoy drinking.”
He seemed relieved by the change of topic, answering with a hearty laugh.
“And you, Mr. Kim, seem to drink quite well yourself. Your face hasn’t changed a bit.”
“I’m not especially fond of it, but I do like this one.”
I picked up the bottle and poured for both Wen Jiabao and Jang Songthaek before continuing.
“So how did the two of you become friends?”
I already knew Jang Songthaek leaned pro-China, but I hadn’t realized they were close enough for him to stay at Wen Jiabao’s house.
For two men with many political rivals, staying in each other’s homes meant a rare level of trust.
“I’ve known the Vice Premier for thirty years. We first met while studying in the Soviet Union.”
Jang Songthaek seemed to have lowered his guard somewhat, speaking without reserve.
“We were both busy afterward and didn’t keep in touch, but when the Vice Premier first visited North Korea, we met again. After the official events, we drank together and became close. A shared sense of hardship, you might say...”
Letting his voice trail off, Jang Songthaek lifted his glass and drank.
Wen Jiabao picked up where he left off.
“Director Jang and I have many overlapping views—on politics and on life. It’s rare to meet someone like that, and it’s a good connection. I hope you and I can have that kind of relationship as well, Mr. Kim.”
His affable words stirred a rush of thoughts.
After Kim Jongil’s death, Jang Songthaek would be seen as North Korea’s real power behind the throne.
And yet, right after Wen Jiabao’s retirement, he would be eliminated.
Could that really be a coincidence?
The conversation flowed on like my thoughts, until Wen Jiabao, now clearly drunk, was the first to leave the table.
Deciding it was time to wrap up, I exchanged farewells with Jang Songthaek.
“Well then, Director Jang, I’ll see you again. It’s been a good meeting.”
“Yes, I suppose next time will be in Pyongyang.”
“So it will.”
“Let’s drink together again then. I feel like I’ve found a good drinking companion for the first time in a while.”
“Sounds good.”
We stood and shook hands.
Thanks to Wen Jiabao and Jang Songthaek alternately pouring my drinks all night, I was more than a little tipsy, but I walked as if nothing was amiss.
“Boss.”
“Let’s head back to the lodging.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chief Ma, having noticed my condition, came over to support me.
The man who had brought us here approached.
“Shall I take you to the hotel?”
Chief Ma answered for me, and we followed their lead to the car.
Soon the vehicle was gliding along a quiet road.
Jang Songthaek, huh...
Instead of watching the scenery pass, I closed my eyes, replaying the meeting in my mind.
