novelraw Chapter 155 : Undercover Infiltration
Chapter 155 : Undercover Infiltration
Chapter 155: Undercover Infiltration
“Something feels... off.”
Jo Harang muttered those words out of the blue while staying behind at the office.
“What feels off?”
Ilhong, who had been staring blankly out the window, turned her head.
She seemed to have picked up on the subtle emotion hidden in Jo Harang’s voice.
“Seeing Mujin disappear with that woman again… Something about this place feels strange.”
Jo Harang swept her hand across her chest, saying that some inexplicable emotion had lodged itself there and refused to be washed away.
Was that why she'd been swinging around that broadsword in the courtyard since morning? Even so, it seemed like the knot in her chest hadn’t unraveled.
“What should I do? Maybe the inner demon has come for me again.”
“No, it’s not the inner demon...”
Ilhong seemed to realize what that emotion truly was, but she clamped her mouth shut. There was no reason to spell it out and give rise to a new rival.
Her opponent was a master with overwhelming martial prowess, someone who had fought in countless battles alongside the Captain, standing shoulder-to-shoulder through life and death.
A relationship where they could entrust their backs to one another in moments of crisis.
In contrast, she herself had been thrown out onto the streets, barely surviving thanks to the Captain’s mercy. All she had was a vague claim to succession—a mere speck of a right.
So, if her pitiful and unimpressive self was to do anything, it was better that Jo Harang remained oblivious to her own feelings.
“Yeah, maybe… maybe it is the inner demon.”
But honestly, there was no way that was it.
The Captain had already helped her break through that barrier by guiding her to confront those very emotions directly, leading her to achieve a higher state of enlightenment.
Claiming she was repaying that favor, she had ended up staying at this office—which originally only housed the Captain and herself.
Thinking back on it, it had truly been a disaster, Ilhong thought.
“But the inner demon I faced back at Mount Sung… it felt different somehow. How should I put it, it’s like…”
“It's called ‘Center-of-the-World Syndrome.’”
As Jo Harang seemed on the verge of some realization, Ilhong panicked and blurted out a name of some condition she vaguely remembered skimming in a medical text.
A terrifying illness said to cause tightness and sudden pain in the chest, leading to sudden collapses.
“Really? But this feels more like an emotional issue than a physical one… I mean, could it be… don’t tell me I’m… about Mujin…”
From within the heart of a woman who had lived her entire life cultivating martial arts deep in the mountains, something was beginning to stir.
“W-Would you like some Hongshaorou?! We've been eating too poorly lately!”
Ilhong suddenly shouted about eating the soy-sauce-braised pork dish tenderly cooked with sugar syrup. The awkward tone in her voice made it obvious she was trying to change the subject.
And as Jo Harang, who had been swinging her broadsword all day, was feeling hungry, her eyes sparkled.
“Really? But didn’t Mujin say we had to be frugal until he brought back money from the palace?”
That’s why she’d been eating dry, empty dumplings for a while now.
“…Come on, a tiger needs meat. How can you chew on flour? My treat.”
“Wow, really?! Thanks, Ilhong!”
Good thing she had an appetite like the Captain.
Though their coin pouch would grow thinner, seeing the bright smile blossom on Jo Harang’s face made Ilhong let out a breath of relief.
But it was only a temporary fix.
Just like she had, Jo Harang would one day come to understand those feelings. It was only a matter of time—something Ilhong sensed with quiet resignation.
From a distance, it hadn’t felt real, but now that I was walking inside, I could feel the grandeur and vastness of the Imperial Palace with my entire being.
The red walls, cinnabar pillars, the dramatically curved rooftops, and golden tiles all blended together to form an overwhelming presence.
The buildings arranged in perfect symmetry according to strict hierarchy seemed to exude the Emperor’s supreme and unmatched authority.
The palace grounds stretched endlessly, housing over a thousand buildings and countless palace attendants, displaying the overwhelming might of the current Imperial Household at a glance.
And among them, a strictly restricted and heavily guarded forbidden zone.
That was where I was currently headed.
“So, what do you think? The Princess’s Palace you’ve only heard of until now.”
As I looked around curiously, the Head Maid slowed her steps and asked.
Pride for the palace she had lovingly tended to was evident in her voice.
“It’s elegant… and beautiful.”
While the other palaces I passed flaunted splendor and opulence, this place had a tidy, cozy, and dignified air.
Perhaps one could call it the art of subtraction.
“They say a palace reflects its master. The Princess you’ll be serving, Princess Peach Blossom, is even more beautiful.”
She spoke with pride, describing her mistress as someone possessing both exceptional beauty and virtue.
“Is that so.”
Judging by the attendants’ demeanor, I could guess her character somewhat, but I had never seen her face, so I couldn’t speak to her beauty.
Back at the silkworm chamber, we had only met once—and even then, she wore a white veil.
Strangely, that single piece of cloth sparked the imagination in a curious way.
“If you have any questions before we reach the eunuch’s quarters, feel free to ask.”
Perhaps complimenting the palace earlier had been the right move, as the Head Maid’s voice grew noticeably softer.
From what Cheon Sugong had told me, she was supposed to be a strict and meticulous woman, but it didn’t seem entirely true.
“I don’t usually do this, but… I’ll make an exception because I feel sorry for you.”
She said that while giving me a sympathetic look after seeing my face, which had been altered using a human-skin mask.
“……”
I paused, dumbfounded—but whatever. I had no issues, so there was nothing to feel guilty about.
So I calmly threw a question her way.
“The palace seems tense, and the Princess’s Palace in particular is under heavy security. Did something happen?”
There was a faint trace of malice and killing intent behind the glamorous exterior—something subtle yet lingering in the air.
Perhaps it was just that I had heightened my senses as the Heaven-Slaying Star to detect signs of poisoning.
“…Of all things, that’s what you’re curious about? From experience, I’ll say this: in the Imperial Palace, silence is a virtue, and guarding your tongue ensures long life.”
But… you’re the one who said I could ask anything?
I’d only asked in hopes that knowing more about the inner workings of the palace might help me identify the poisoner.
“But ignorance leads to mistakes… so I’ll tell you briefly. It’s all because of the Crown Prince, who lies bedridden.”
The Head Maid glanced around, then lowered her voice.
“The Crown Prince?”
“You didn’t know? It’s been six years since he fell ill. There’s been no improvement, and even the royal physicians can do nothing but shake their heads.”
“…I see.”
The Crown Prince was the one meant to inherit all of the Central Plains.
And now, after such a long illness, it seemed his end was near?
That meant the Emperor would have to appoint a new Crown Prince among his other children.
And the upheaval that would bring explained the unrest throughout the palace.
“Ah, so that’s why all the princes and princesses haven’t been sent away—they’re being kept here in the palace?”
“Yes, exactly. And to complicate things further, His Majesty declared that he would not use any traditional standards in making his decision. That’s why everyone is anxious, unsure of who will be chosen.”
My master, Hwang Geolgae, had warned me never to meet the Son of Heaven—and now, that very man was whimsically changing the rules.
By tradition, the rightful heir should be the eldest legitimate son, yet here he was sowing the seeds of discord himself.
What could he possibly be thinking?
“And the current leading candidates are the Second Prince and the exceptionally bright Third Prince.”
The Second Prince—I was quite familiar with that name. Never met him in person, but I’d been entangled in a few matters related to him.
But the Third Prince? That was someone I’d never heard of.
“The Third Prince is the younger brother of the Third Princess—Princess Peach Blossom.”
Both were children born of the Imperial Consort, who was said to be deeply favored by the Son of Heaven.
The Second Prince, however, was the son of the Empress—meaning he and the Third Prince were half-brothers.
And apparently, the Empress did not think highly of this Third Prince in the slightest.
“Princess Peach Blossom, too, is quite pitiful. In order to protect her younger brother, she had to live with impeccable dignity from a very young age...”
There was a tinge of sympathy in the Head Maid’s voice.
“How old is Princess Peach Blossom?”
“…She’s just past her prime age. It’s all because of the Crown Prince.”
The Head Maid shut her eyes tight, as if lamenting.
So, around twenty-three or twenty-four. In this era, she would’ve long been married.
But it seemed she was stuck here in the palace due to the Crown Prince's succession issue. Serving as a buffer for her younger brother, unable to even step outside—like a bird in a gilded cage.
“Younger than I expected.”
When I met her before, her tone had sounded like something out of a historical drama, so I assumed she was older.
But thinking about it, it was only natural for royalty to speak so formally. A fresh realization.
“In any case, that’s why you’ve been assigned to the Princess’s Palace. Mind your tone, your conduct—don’t take anything lightly.”
The Head Maid warned me sternly, urging me to keep my head down in such a sensitive environment.
“…I suddenly want to go home.”
“Too late. This is your home now.”
“……”
Cheon Sugong, that bastard—if you were going to brief me on the palace, you should’ve told me everything.
It seems he wanted me to identify the poisoner without revealing any of the palace’s inner turmoil, thinking those were secrets I didn’t need to know.
But hearing all this—it felt like I was walking on a frozen lake.
While I was quietly fuming—
Chatter chatter.
From the distance, a group of maids appeared, carrying baskets piled with laundry.
Upon seeing the Head Maid, they bowed respectfully.
And then, noticing me standing nearby, their eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“He’s the new eunuch. Be kind to him.”
As she introduced me as a eunuch, a wave of pity washed over their faces.
“Oh my.”
“Oh dear…”
Their sympathetic gazes pierced into me like needles.
They say you don’t truly understand until you walk in someone else’s shoes. Was this how Cheon Sugong and Weesoo of the Eastern Depot felt? I should be more considerate from now on.
“Where are you all off to?”
“A new maid joined us, so we’re off to train her in laundry duty, Head Maid.”
Then, among the cluster of maids bustling by, I spotted a familiar face.
None other than Tang Yeo-hye, infiltrating the palace disguised as a maid.
Her expression showed clear irritation—likely not expecting to be assigned such menial chores.
Pfft.
I nearly burst out laughing—it was just too funny.
As I barely stifled my snort, she seemed to catch my gaze and turned toward me.
‘What are you doing there?’
She mouthed silently, sending over a telepathic message.
‘Poison—found any traces?’
I gestured with my hand, asking if she’d found any clues. She shrugged as if saying not yet.
“Then, we’ll be off to beat the laundry, Head Maid.”
“Go on, get to work.”
With the Head Maid’s permission, the maids scattered like clouds.
From the corridor beyond, their endless chatter continued to echo. Just what did they have so much to talk about?
I tilted my head slightly. From Tang Yeo-hye’s back, I could almost see faint killing intent rising.
She usually got like that when thoroughly annoyed—but seeing it was my request, she seemed to be holding it in.
Thanks to me, that woman was having quite the variety of experiences.
Hang in there, Tang Yeo-hye.
And stay strong, Tang Yeo-hye.
After walking endlessly eastward across the vast expanse of the palace—
The Head Maid, claiming she had other matters to attend to, left me to my own devices.
She gestured vaguely, saying I’d almost arrived and should be able to find it easily.
I began walking in the direction she’d last pointed to—but soon found myself completely disoriented.
Large buildings and meticulously maintained flower trees blocked my view, making it hard to tell where I was going.
“Hm. This is a problem.”
It was my first time here, and the place was far too vast and complex to navigate easily.
In short—I was lost.
“Where the hell am I…”
A grown man getting lost—how humiliating.
Determined to find my way by myself, I moved my legs with purpose.
But with no signs or guides, wandering across this enormous maze only dragged me deeper into unfamiliar territory.
Was this how it felt to be stuck in a labyrinth without a map?
After some time roaming, I found myself stepping into a garden where a small stream flowed.
It was a beautiful spot where light pink cherry blossoms and pear flowers bloomed riotously under the spring sun.
As I paused to admire the scene—
Click clack.
A woman appeared atop the stepping stones by the stream, holding a white parasol.
Her black hair swayed elegantly in the spring breeze. The golden silk robe she wore shimmered with turquoise floral embroidery, further accentuating her grace.
Walking among the spring blossoms, she stopped—then turned her head as if sensing something.
Our eyes met in the air.
“Wow. She’s drop-dead gorgeous.”
Perhaps unaccustomed to such blunt language, her eyes widened slightly. Her well-shaped brows lifted, showing a hint of surprise.
But then, perhaps sensing no malice, a faint smile curled on her lips.
“Hoho, thank you. But who might you be, and where are you from?”