13. Tongil Rice
The house I had prepared in advance was still under construction, so the real estate agency president quickly acquired a nearby house for us. It was only slightly bigger than our previous home, but it was enough for the six of us, including me.
“Hehe. They said I would meet a VIP come up from the south this year, and sure enough, it was the young president.”
The real estate agency president couldn’t contain his beaming smile whenever he saw me. And rightly so—brokering was a business where one had to make deals to survive, and the land and houses I had transacted since coming here were several times the amount he had handled over the past few years, so he had every reason to grin from ear to ear.
“Oh my... Thanks to my eldest son, I’ll try farming on my own land now. I’m grateful, I tell ya.”
My father, who had become a maternal grandfather, concealed his joy and bashfulness with hearty laughter and opened his usually taciturn mouth.
“The agency president said earlier that the field in front of here was our land. Is that paddy field over there ours? Goodness gracious... If I try to farm all that, my back will break. That there is the land I’m going to farm?”
“Aye, it is.”
Was it because my body had grown younger? My mischievousness kicked in.
“Huh... Really? Then is that over there ours as well? That size looks just right for farming.”
“That too is ours, Father.”
“What? ...Then that big plot right next to it—surely that isn’t ours too?”
Suho and Junho, who had been standing beside us listening to my father and me, pretended not to listen while subtly pricking their ears.
Come to think of it, our family had quite an interesting thing in common.
It was the fact that although their eldest son, who had run away from home with the deed to the house, had returned and become a wealthy man, not a single person asked how much money he had made or how rich he had become.
I could feel that heartfelt emotion keenly. I simply thought that they must consider it enough just to have reunited with family they had feared they might never see again.
“Every piece of land in Father’s sight is ours. From now on, you mustn’t farm alone—you have to hire plenty of workers.”
While my father and two younger brothers stood frozen as if playing a game of freeze tag, I went inside the house and helped with unpacking.
.
.
.
“Father... I reckon our big brother might be a little crazy?”
Junho. I can hear everything...
*
The flow of time was sometimes like the wind.
Going down to Gunwi, coming back up to Yeongdong, helping the family adjust, and going back and forth to the construction sites of warehouses and buildings—before I knew it, it was mid-July.
The transfer issues for my younger siblings, including my younger sister, were easily resolved thanks to Choe Hui’s quick work. At first, I had considered having them commute to Gangbuk—present-day Seoul—rather than Yeongdong, but I changed my mind.
At first, I had worried they would be teased for their dialect after coming up from the countryside, but before long, they each seemed to be happily attending school, making friends and playing.
Since Gunwi was countryside and Yeongdong up here was countryside too, the family didn’t have too hard a time adjusting.
The moment the agricultural research institute building, which had been driven to completion most urgently, was finished, Professor Heo Munhoe and several of his disciples, along with fellow researchers who had been working with him, began commuting to the institute.
People who trusted him and went to work at a newly established company they had never heard of in their lives. That was the virtue and power Professor Heo Munhoe possessed.
—Knock. Knock.
“Come in.”
“It must be hard commuting all the way to Yeongdong?”
Truly, it seemed that people were what completed anything.
When only the empty building stood there, it felt like a seedling research institute in name alone, but as people busily decorated the spaces, demanded and filled the necessary equipment, it truly became a proper research institute.
“It certainly is difficult.”
“The dormitory will be completed within a month or two, so please bear with it until then.”
“Perseverance is what we researchers do best, isn’t it? I am only grateful to Representative I. I was half doubtful, but now research feels worthwhile.”
They say a skilled calligrapher doesn’t blame the brush, but it is only natural that writing with a good brush produces better results.
I had equipped the institute and set its preparations to the highest standard.
“Haha. I believe I am the one who should be saying that.”
“Since we’re embarrassing each other, let’s get straight to the point. Give me that answer quickly. All the researchers are waiting with bated breath.”
Professor Heo Munhoe pressed with his characteristically gentle tone.
“Let’s go, Professor. No, you are the Director now. All the staff are waiting for the Director in the meeting room.”
*
“How far has the research progressed?”
“There was no progress to speak of. Every colleague here is a renowned talent, but we simply couldn’t solve the sterility problem. We’re completely stuck there. It feels like if we just cross that mountain we’ll be fine, but the end of that mountain is nowhere in sight.”
The research team with Professor Heo Munhoe took their seats around a long table. Their faces even showed a kind of grim resolve.
And for good reason—each of their individual bearings and careers were nothing short of brilliant. Leading them was Senior Researcher Hong Seongu, who had thrown in his resignation from the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry to join, and most of them were leading scholars in the Republic of Korea’s agricultural sector, engines now rising to take center stage.
All for one banner—to increase rice production—discarding stable success.
“Annam rice. Everyone here knows that rice called the Indica variety has high yields. And the hybrid of Indica and Japonica.”
As mentioned before, the Indica variety had yield, the Japonica variety had taste, and because Indica was rice adapted to the tropics, it didn’t suit our country’s temperate cultivation conditions.
“If mixing two doesn’t solve the sterility problem, what if we mix three?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Does that make sense?”
“No... It doesn’t sound impossible?”
The researchers each threw in a word and began to murmur.
“We want Indica’s yield based on Japonica. There is a blind spot here. The base temperament must prioritize Indica. Yield is the priority for now, is it not?”
That was correct.
The essence of the current research was to increase yield as the top priority.
“Let’s say we have a distant hybridization between Japonica A and Indica B, and let’s call that hybrid C for now. Then we try a three-way cross between that hybrid C, which carries half the traits of each, and another Indica variety, D.”
I stated the core of the three-way cross that Professor Heo Munhoe would have solved through countless trials and errors all at once. Again, this expansion of production was a battle against time.
“Hmm... What would happen then?”
Director Heo Munhoe, who had been sitting silently without a word, opened his mouth.
“Literally. The hybrid through distant hybridization would have the desired temperament but suffer sterility; if we then cross it again with another Indica variety, which would be one of the maternal traits, the sterility would undoubtedly be resolved.”
Simply put, it could be seen as reinforcing one side’s genetic traits to fill the genetic defect.
“But then, if so, wouldn’t the rice developed through the three-way cross have a temperament closer to Indica?!”
Researcher Gim Daehui, who had been taking notes diligently during the meeting, suddenly raised his head and exclaimed.
Truly, this was a place where leading scholars gathered.
He had grasped the core point at once.
“Correct. A strain close to the Indica variety will emerge. From here, this is what you must solve. A Japonica variety close to Indica. Naturally, the taste will fall far short of the existing Japonica. Maintaining yield while raising that taste to a level equal to our original rice.”
Saying so, I met each of their eyes one by one.
“That is what you must do.”
Having solved one problem for them, I presented another. While the researchers engaged in fierce discussion among themselves, I slipped out of the meeting room.
“A moment, Representative I.”
It was Director Heo Munhoe.
“What is it?”
“If we’ve solved the core issue with the three-way cross, shouldn’t we quickly develop that seedling and distribute it to each region to prepare for next year’s farming as soon as possible?”
Director Heo Munhoe’s face was full of questions.
“If you cook and eat rice made from the hybrid I mentioned later, you’ll naturally understand. A Japonica infinitely close to Indica. Honestly, if it is developed and goes into production like this, the taste will be so terrible it might as well be an Indica variety adapted to Korea’s climate. We still have time to prepare for next year’s farming, so let’s try a little harder.”
“Taste, you say...”
Leaving the still-doubtful Director Heo Munhoe behind, I exited the agricultural research institute.
This was a problem stemming from the difference in perspective between the research team, actual farmers, and the citizens who consumed it. The researchers focused solely on yield, so they didn’t give much consideration to taste. They were looking at it from a macroscopic perspective.
In contrast, farmers and consumers looked at it more narrowly. In rice for eating, taste was more important than anything. Even if it wasn’t extremely delicious, if it tasted much worse than usual rice, it was natural that people wouldn’t want it.
This was one of the biggest problems Tongil rice would have.
The hybrid I had spoken of was originally born several years later than now through Professor Heo Munhoe, and named “Tongil rice.”
As always, everything had its light and shadow.
Tongil rice fully achieved its original purpose of expanding production. However, because its taste was terrible, it reached the point where even farming households shunned it.
Rice that consumers didn’t seek.
Despite the light of having made it possible to overcome hunger, its tasteless temperament led to over twenty years of history before even government procurement was cut off.
‘We still have time, so let’s keep pushing a little more.’
*
From that day on, I visited the agricultural research institute almost every day. I had to check the researchers’ progress, suggest directions for development, and make corrections.
I wasn’t an agricultural expert, so I couldn’t conduct the research myself, but I could minimize trial and error through the knowledge I possessed.
Although I had shown them the solution through the three-way cross, it was merely presenting a kind of formula.
With this formula, depending on the order of crossing and the seeds among hundreds of varieties, an improved rice even better than the existing Tongil rice might be born.
And it had to be so.
Of course, since developing Tongil rice might be necessary before the next step could be possible, we had to develop Tongil rice first. The core Japonica variety according to the combination of Tongil rice I knew.
It was in Japan.
While the research team focused on developing high-yield new rice varieties, I was looking into tickets to Japan.
“Miss Choe Hui. What departure date did you set?”
“August 14th.”
Choe Hui, who was in the office, answered.
It was a week later.
“I’ll be going with Mr. Bak Minseok this time. That should be fine, shouldn’t it?”
“...”
She protested by not answering, but she too knew there was nothing she could do.
There had been more than one or two inconveniences while going down to Gunwi together. Since I Dongho’s body was tremendously strong, it didn’t matter much, but it was inconvenient that I carried most of the heavy luggage, and due to her physical characteristics, even when one room should have sufficed, we had to get two. Anyway, the inconveniences were no small number.
Since Choe Hui herself must have been very inconvenienced, she couldn’t argue.
“Haha. Thanks to you, Representative, I’ve even crossed the sea, and meeting you has changed my life. Thank you.”
Bak Minseok, wearing a satisfied smile in a corner of the office, greeted me without reading the room.
Honestly, having Bak Minseok, a man, move or work with me was much more convenient.
“Have you taken over the oil mill without issues?”
I threw a different question at the clueless Bak Minseok.
“Ah. Yes. I acquired an oil mill in Yeongdeungpo just as you instructed.”
Bak Minseok, who had been smiling, stopped awkwardly upon seeing my and Choe Hui’s expressionless faces and answered.
“Representative. But does acquiring an oil mill have anything to do with our business?”
“Rice alone isn’t enough. Moreover, new variety production isn’t something that happens overnight... It’s a business to fill the gap in the meantime.”
“Then are we making cooking oil now?”
“Not exactly. I’ll tell you after I return from Japan. Nothing is certain yet.”
Japan.
A country called both near and far, where affection and bitter love coexist.
I had to bring back Yukara rice, a Japonica variety, and one more thing from that country.
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