I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 18: Morning in the Heavenly Flame Palace

The room was bright.

Rising from the bed, Jincheon looked around, suddenly aware of his surroundings again.

The maids had already completed their morning duties and now stood before him, their heads bowed in perfect, respectful silence.

In front of them stood Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong as well.

A row of beautiful women standing in still formation—it was such a surreal scene that it somehow snapped Jincheon back to reality.

‘Oh. So I really am...’

The memories of yesterday flooded in like a crashing tide.

Arriving in Jiuquan... the tavern they visited, the white-curtained carriage, the enormous estate... Gi Seoran suddenly kneeling before him...

Then the moonlit plains they galloped across, the winding mountain paths, the strange city hidden deep within the mountains—and the countless people who followed, as if encircling him.

All those overwhelming, dreamlike moments from the Palace replayed themselves in a single instant.

Gulp.

Jincheon swallowed without realizing it.

It wasn’t a dream.

The red orb—the Wrath—was more than just some precious or symbolic item.

Simply possessing it made these people call him the “Red Dragon.”

Or Palace Master.

As the one who had inherited the mantle of the former Gungju.

‘Yeah... that’s right.’

As that tension rippled through him again, Gi Seoran spoke softly.

“I’ve prepared your clothes.”

Clothes?

Only then did Jincheon notice the garments held neatly in the maid’s hands.

He was already wearing clothes, so for a second he was confused—until it hit him.

‘Oh. The sweat...’

The clothes he’d worn all night were completely soaked through. Wrinkled to hell and back, too. No way he could walk around like this.

And that wasn’t even the only issue.

His hair was a mess. His body was grimy from the ride through the mountain roads and the dusty streets. His face was just as bad.

‘Damn that stupid dragon dream...’

Granted, the mess wasn’t entirely the dream’s fault—but Jincheon still chose to blame the ridiculous, surreal nightmare full of dragons.

He glanced at the maids.

In their hands were wide, shallow bowls of water, held up as if awaiting his signal.

‘I... guess I should wash up?’

To do that, he had to get out of bed first.

Jincheon moved to rise.

Immediately, the maids reached out and supported him.

Rustle.

‘Uh, okay.’

Jincheon twitched a little, not used to being touched—especially by women—but the maids moved with practiced ease.

And just like that, Jincheon found himself standing beside the bed.

And that was only the beginning.

“We’ll wash you now.”

“...Huh?”

As Jincheon blinked in confusion, the maids smoothly began removing his clothes with well-trained hands.

“W-Wait a second—!”

Panicking, Jincheon quickly pulled out the small pouch hidden in his inner robe—the one holding the red orb—and placed it carefully on the bedside table.

Every gaze in the room locked onto the pouch.

The maids, Gi Seoran, Po Eunryeong—all of them looked at it with a mixture of reverence and fear.

“...Ahem.”

Jincheon cleared his throat awkwardly.

That seemed to snap the maids out of it, and they resumed their duties with renewed focus.

His top was removed in an instant, and his pants slid down a moment later.

“Ugh!”

Jincheon flinched in alarm, but a large, wide cloth was immediately draped over his lower body.

Almost reflexively, Jincheon glanced toward Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong.

The two women wore neutral expressions, but neither looked away from him.

Maybe it was the sunlight—maybe not—but Po Eunryeong’s pale ear lobes looked particularly red.

Swipe.

A warm, damp towel touched Jincheon’s face.

The other maids gently wiped down his hair with wet cloths, careful not to tug or pull.

“If you prefer, we can prepare the bath.”

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One of the maids—the one washing his face—asked softly.

Her hair was a rare reddish-brown.

Jincheon responded quickly.

“No, it’s fine.”

Truthfully, he wanted to soak in a hot bath—but there was no way he had the nerve for that right now.

The maid gave a small, polite smile.

Then she reached toward his undergarments.

“I-I’ll do that myself.”

Jincheon spoke up, hurried and firm.

There was no getting around the fact that he needed to change. He’d sweat like crazy, ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) and probably smelled like it too. A little embarrassment was better than walking around like that.

The maid gave a graceful bow and offered the clean undergarments with both hands.

Taking them, Jincheon turned again toward Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong.

Of course—they were still watching.

And not just them.

All seven maids had their eyes on him too.

Everyone in this chamber—every single one of them a woman—was watching Jincheon half-naked.

“...Turn around, please.”

The maids and Po Eunryeong turned their heads without complaint. But Gi Seoran kept looking.

“You too, Lady Gi.”

“...Forgive me for saying so, but as someone sworn to protect the Palace Master, I cannot afford—”

“It’s fine. Just turn around.”

“...Yes, sir.”

With a stiff expression, Gi Seoran reluctantly turned away.

Jincheon changed as fast as physically possible.

He wrapped the used undergarments tightly inside the already-discarded outer clothes, hiding them from sight.

“...All done.”

Mentally, he was not all done—but at least the ordeal was over.

Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong turned back to him. The maids’ hands moved quickly again.

Jincheon, now halfway resigned, let them work.

Thanks to his cooperation, he was soon fully dressed.

And to his surprise, the result was... not bad.

‘Wait... this actually fits?’

The new clothes fit him perfectly.

And they didn’t look bad either.

He’d half-expected something gaudy and flashy—like robes drenched in gold dragon embroidery—but what he got was simple and elegant.

Even the color, mostly white, was nice—though it did seem a little prone to getting dirty.

‘This is actually... pretty decent. Not heavy either...’

The material was lightweight and luxurious.

And the lining was so soft it actually felt nice against his skin.

Just as Jincheon was starting to feel good about it—

One of the maids lifted the red outer robe.

“Oh, that—I’ll take it.”

It wasn’t his robe. Best to keep it safe himself.

The maid paused, then bowed and handed it over.

Rustle.

The red robe settled onto Jincheon’s shoulders.

He thought it’d look strange—but surprisingly, it didn’t stand out too much. It even kind of suited him.

They placed a small, elegant headpiece atop his head. It looked more like something a scholar would wear than a noble, which made it easier to accept.

And with that, the maids who had dressed him lined up neatly and bowed.

“Do you have any further commands, sir?”

The seven beautiful women stood with their heads bowed, their posture modest and composed. It was quite the sight to behold.

It would’ve been a lot more impressive if Jincheon hadn’t just changed clothes right in front of them.

“I don’t need anything. Thank you.”

The process had been mortifying—but the result was undeniably satisfying. Jincheon let out a small smile.

The black-haired maid standing at the front answered softly.

“You honor us too much.”

She bowed even deeper.

The other six maids followed suit.

As their heads lowered, the colors of their hair came into view—each one different.

Surely it had been the same yesterday, but it only stood out now. Which probably meant last night had just been too overwhelming for him to notice anything at all.

The maids gathered Jincheon’s discarded clothes and quietly left the hall.

The door closed without a sound. Now only three people remained: Jincheon, Gi Seoran, and Po Eunryeong.

“Shall I bring your breakfast?”

Gi Seoran asked.

Jincheon shook his head.

“No. Before that...”

He let out a faint sigh, then spoke.

“Let’s start with tea.”

It was too early to be this exhausted.

What he needed more than food right now was time to think. Time to breathe.

****

Jincheon lifted the small teacup.

The fragrant aroma tickled his nose, and he paused to take in the scent.

When he brought it to his lips, the warmth of the tea glided smoothly down his throat.

Clink.

He set the cup down.

Holding it between both hands, letting the residual warmth soak into his palms, Jincheon gathered his thoughts.

So, basically...

Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong sat before him.

Just like when they first met, Gi Seoran was stunning—someone whose beauty could turn heads anywhere. And Po Eunryeong, with her silver hair and piercing blue eyes, had a striking, ethereal charm of her own.

And right now, they were seated in this grand hall—with its high ceilings and lavish decorations—watching over him.

The place was literally called the “Palace.”

Yeah. This isn’t a dream.

Any lingering doubts that he might’ve hallucinated all this... or that maybe he was still dreaming... were gone.

They’re not trying to trick me, either.

He turned his gaze and met the eyes of the two women.

Gi Seoran’s expression was calm and serious, while Po Eunryeong’s carried a faint trace of embarrassment.

What could women like them possibly gain from deceiving someone like him?

No. That’s unlikely. The maids... the people in the grand hall yesterday... their reactions were the same. And then there were... those people...

The crowd that had filled the streets.

The way they bowed. The absolute reverence in their faces.

Jincheon felt a faint chill crawl down his spine.

There was no way that kind of devotion was faked.

Then again... maybe they were bowing to the orb, not me.

Of course, even that seemed a bit much. It still didn’t explain everything.

So the question looped back to the core problem.

They made me the master of this palace just because I have this red orb?

It didn’t make sense.

He couldn’t accept it.

He’d never heard of anything like this—let alone experienced it.

Well... actually... maybe not never.

If he really stretched, there were ancient stories—like kings being chosen because they had more teeth... or winning by drawing lots... or being picked just because everyone liked them. Hell, even decisions made by reading cracks in a burned turtle shell.

So maybe it wasn’t entirely unprecedented.

Rustle.

Jincheon reached into his robe and pulled out the small pouch.

He could feel the tension in the air from the two women, but he ignored it.

He opened the pouch.

Clink.

The red orb—about the size of his thumb—rolled out onto the table.

Thunk.

Both women immediately stood and dropped to one knee, lowering their heads to the floor.

“In the presence of the Red Dragon’s Wrath, we kneel.”

Jincheon didn’t look at them.

His eyes stayed fixed on the orb, rolling gently across the table.

Clatter...

The orb moved slowly along the wide surface.

Jincheon reached out. If he didn’t stop it, it would roll right off the edge.

But just before his fingers touched it, he hesitated.

He remembered what Gi Seoran had told him last night:

“Anyone who touches the Wrath—no matter who they are—will die.”

But the hesitation lasted only a moment.

Tap.

Jincheon’s fingertip pressed gently against the orb. As always, it stopped immediately.

And, of course, Jincheon didn’t die.

“Rise.”

Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong hesitated for a moment, then obeyed.

“...You may sit.”

The two women resumed their seats across from him.

They’d waited for him to speak before sitting again—just like last time.

Their tension was still obvious.

Jincheon glanced at them, thoughtful.

So what exactly do I need to do to figure out what the hell is going on here?

What kind of place was this?

Who were these people?

And that middle-aged man—the one who gave him this job—what happened to him?

That bastard...

The image of the man grinning ear to ear rose in his mind—and Jincheon suddenly felt a surge of irritation.

He thought it was just a simple delivery job, but this? This was insane.

And the worst part? Technically, it wasn’t even a lie.

He said, ‘Just deliver it and it’s done,’ didn’t he?

Except... he can’t deliver it.

Because there’s no one left to take it.

Jincheon clenched his jaw without realizing it.