I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 3: If There’s No Other Choice, It’s Fate

Jincheon frowned.

A request? All of a sudden? What was this man talking about?

The middle-aged man spoke in a calm voice.

"I need you to deliver something. If you can make sure it gets to the right place, I promise you a rather decent reward."

Jincheon let out a sigh.

"Leave that kind of thing to a security bureau. I may have just started working as a traveling merchant, but—"

"I can’t trust a security bureau."

The middle-aged man cut him off.

"And there's no guarantee I'll even make it to one."

The man was pressing against his side with a firm grip.

Though his clothes were too dirty to show any blood, it was clear that his condition was not good.

"Are you alright?"

"I feel like I’m dying."

The middle-aged man grimaced before adding:

"Give or take a hundred years."

Jincheon couldn’t help but chuckle. Then, annoyed at himself for laughing, he scowled.

"Is now really the time for jokes?"

But the middle-aged man was grinning widely, clearly pleased that his joke had amused Jincheon.

"...You’re more carefree than you look."

"Well, the dying part was a joke, but the part about a generous reward? That was serious."

Jincheon furrowed his brow.

"Wouldn’t it be better to wait for your companions? Handing something over to a total stranger like me—"

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"That’s not an option."

The middle-aged man gave a bitter smile as he glanced down at his wounded side.

"This wasn’t done by an enemy’s blade."

Jincheon’s expression stiffened.

That meant... the man had been betrayed.

And not just by anyone—but by someone he had trusted.

"That’s why, ironically, you, whom I met just today, are the only person I can trust right now. You’re the best option I have."

Jincheon scoffed.

"I mean, it's not like there's anyone else here besides me, right?"

"That’s true."

Seeing the middle-aged man’s amused smile, Jincheon felt dumbfounded.

This guy really was more carefree than he looked.

"...So, what is it that you need delivered?"

A traveling merchant wasn’t a security bureau.

But if the reward was worth it, there was no reason to refuse.

In reality, many peddlers like him made extra money by delivering letters or goods, and Jincheon was already considering doing the same.

He had to make a profit somehow—otherwise, he’d disappoint the friend who had trusted him enough to lend him money.

Rustle.

The middle-aged man reached into his robe and pulled out a small wooden box.

It was small enough to fit in one hand, adorned with jade and gold—just at a glance, it looked like a valuable item.

"That looks expensive."

"It is. This is made from purple sandalwood, intricately carved with multiple layers of jade. Some people say you could buy an entire city with just this box alone."

Jincheon smirked.

He’d heard that kind of exaggeration before.

But still, the craftsmanship was so intricate that it was genuinely impressive.

"However, this box isn’t what you’ll be delivering. You’ll only take what's inside."

Jincheon narrowed his eyes.

No matter how expensive the box was, there was no way it was more valuable than its contents.

If someone was asking him to take only the contents while keeping the box, there was only one possible reason.

"You plan to act like you still have it? Like you haven’t handed it over?"

"That’s right. As long as I have this, I can at least put on a bluff if needed. You’re sharper than I expected."

"I did take the government exams. I failed, though."

"If you failed, doesn’t that make you unemployed?"

"Which is why I started working as a merchant!"

Irritated, Jincheon snapped back.

"If ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) this gets too annoying, I might just quit on the spot, you know."

"Hahaha. My apologies. I tend to be... a bit of an ass."

Jincheon frowned.

Under normal circumstances, he would have let that remark slide.

But given his current situation, it grated on his nerves more than it should have.

"You don’t have to call yourself an ass. Just because the world tells you to die doesn’t mean you have to join in on the abuse."

"Is that so? Hmm. You make a good point."

After a brief silence, the man spoke again.

"As expected of a scholar who sat for the exams—you have a way with words. Even if you failed."

"I also happen to be good at talking. Even though I failed."

The man chuckled.

"What’s your name?"

The shift in speech meant he had taken a liking to Jincheon.

"Jincheon. My surname is Jin. And you?"

"Why the sudden formality? I’m Ju. Surname is Gung."

Jincheon’s face immediately twisted in suspicion.

"Are you joking right now?"

There was no way someone would be named Gungju (meaning ‘Palace Lord’).

Earlier, one of the female bodyguards had shouted "Protect the Gungju!"—it was clearly a title, not a name.

"Heh. It’s a joke, but not entirely."

The middle-aged man smirked.

"The truth is, I don’t know my own name."

Jincheon’s frown deepened.

But the man’s expression was sincere.

"I mean it. When I was a child, my mother used to call me Jang-ah, but during my coming-of-age ceremony, I never received a proper name. No—I had it taken from me. Ever since then, I’ve never used one."

Jincheon felt an ominous sense of foreboding.

Had his name been stolen?

If this man was involved with some kind of secret organization, Jincheon wanted no part in it.

"Well, enough with the depressing stories."

The man who had introduced himself as Gungju moved his hand.

Click.

The wooden box opened.

Jincheon let out an involuntary gasp.

"Oh."

Inside the box, a single red orb glowed under the moonlight.

It was about the size of a thumb, relatively thick, and its vivid, shimmering color made it almost mesmerizing.

"This is what I need you to deliver."

Jincheon quickly snapped out of his daze at the sound of the man’s voice and cleared his throat.

"That looks... incredibly expensive. Are you sure about this?"

"Heh. You suddenly started using honorifics? You’re a rather shallow man."

"What can I say? I’ve read the words of ancient sages, but I never became one."

"Hah. That makes me like you even more."

Ignoring the man’s comment, Jincheon asked again.

"Are you really sure about this? Leaving it with me?"

"Truthfully, I’m not. But if there’s no other choice... isn’t that fate?"

Jincheon scoffed.

If there’s no other choice, it’s fate? What a convenient excuse.

"No, seriously. Are you sure about this? What if I run off with it? Or lose it?"

"Then that, too, would be fate."

In other words, it couldn't be helped.

Jincheon let out a long sigh.

"Where do I need to deliver it?"

"You’re taking the job?"

"As Long as I Deliver It, That’s the End of It?"

"That’s right. Once you deliver it, it’s over."

The middle-aged man nodded.

But something about his reaction felt suspicious, making Jincheon narrow his eyes.

"It is really over once I deliver it, right?"

The man clicked his tongue.

"Come now, have I ever lied to you? I swear it’s the truth. I’ll even swear on my mother’s name—she has yet to pass away."

Jincheon hesitated for a moment.

Now that he thought about it, while the man had joked around, he hadn’t actually told any outright lies.

And that phrase—swearing on a mother who has yet to pass away—was strangely unfamiliar.

Well, whatever the case, he did swear on his mother’s name...

"I’ll guarantee this much."

The middle-aged man’s expression turned confident.

"No matter how much you could sell it for, the reward you’ll receive for delivering this to Gung will be far greater. I swear it—on my mother’s name, who has yet to pass away—"

"Please, stop selling your mother’s name already."

Annoyed, Jincheon cut him off.

The man simply laughed, as if he found Jincheon’s reaction even more amusing.

Still, his reasoning made sense. Jincheon had no idea how valuable this red orb was, and finding the right buyer would be difficult.

Rather than risk selling it for a pittance, it was smarter to put in a little effort and secure a larger reward.

"So, where am I delivering it?"

"Ah, but before that—"

Tap.

The middle-aged man flipped the wooden box over, letting the red orb roll into his palm.

Jincheon watched skeptically.

Was it really okay to handle something like that so carelessly?

"This must be delivered and received by hand. You can carry it in a pouch or a satchel, that’s fine. But when handing it over to someone, you must place it directly in their palm, just like this."

Jincheon frowned.

"Is it poisoned?"

"Oh, so you do catch on quickly."

The man chuckled.

"That’s right. If someone unqualified touches it—"

He made a slashing motion across his throat.

"They’ll drop dead immediately. Won’t even have time to scream."

His tone was playful, but Jincheon felt a chill run down his spine.

This really does sound like some kind of secret society nonsense...

The man gestured impatiently.

"Well? Give me your hand."

"You just said it’s poisoned!"

"That’s why I’m giving you the antidote."

Jincheon hesitated, then glanced at the man’s hand.

He was rolling the red orb across his palm without any sign of harm.

There must be an antidote.

Reluctantly, Jincheon extended his hand.

The man moved as if he had been waiting for it.

"Argh!"

Jincheon flinched back instinctively as the man reached to place the orb in his palm.

The middle-aged man burst into laughter.

"Come on now, don’t be so jumpy. You’re quick-witted but a bit of a coward, huh?"

Jincheon clenched his jaw and glared at him, too annoyed to even curse.

Still grinning, the man urged him again.

Jincheon sighed and finally held out his hand.

The man grabbed it.

"My, my. Look at this soft, pale hand. You really are unemployed, aren’t you? Your parents must be worried sick."

"Can we not talk about my parents?"

Jincheon shot back.

"Your hands are just as soft and pale. What’s your excuse?"

The man smirked.

"Got any kids?"

"Shouldn’t you ask if I have a partner first?"

"Fine. Got a partner?"

"...No."

"That so? Pity. Would’ve been fun to tease you about it."

For the first time in his life, Jincheon felt relieved that he was single.

And then—

The middle-aged man abruptly placed the red orb in Jincheon’s palm.

Before Jincheon could react, the man grabbed both of his hands and clenched them tightly around the orb.

"Ugh!"

Jincheon flinched in alarm.

But he couldn’t pull his hands away, nor could he open his fingers.

"How does it feel?"

Huh?

Jincheon realized something.

He was fine.

"You said it was poisoned. Was that a lie?"

"Nope. It’s true."

"Then why am I okay?"

"Would you prefer to be poisoned?"

"That’s not what I meant—"

"Your hands say otherwise. They’ve gone all soft and relaxed."

The man kneaded Jincheon’s hands playfully.

Then, almost to himself, he muttered:

"...So this is how it works."

Jincheon scowled.

"What is this? Swear on your mother’s name—"

"Didn’t you say not to bring up parents?"

"I meant my mother. She’s still in good health, by the way."

"Ah, your mother? Well, in that case, I’ll allow it."

Whatever that meant, the man nodded sagely.

"The antidote isn’t a medicine. It’s a kind of energy. You’ve heard of internal energy, right? It’s similar to that."

Jincheon had heard of it before.

Stories of martial artists splitting boulders and leaping over mountains—those tales of legendary warriors.

"You have internal energy?"

Jincheon asked skeptically, recalling how the man had fled into the kitchen during the attack at the inn.

"Not exactly. It’s something similar. I just passed some of it to you."

Jincheon didn’t believe him.

The idea that energy could be "transferred" like that was absurd.

It just felt like he was kneading my hands...

But the fact remained—his hands were fine. His body felt normal.

Jincheon glanced down at the orb.

It gleamed under the moonlight, a vibrant red gemstone that almost seemed to glow.

Its surface was so smooth and polished that it felt almost unreal.

And perhaps because of its deep crimson color, there was something strangely alluring about it.

Is this why people love jewels?

Of course, it wasn’t just women who liked gemstones, but for the first time, Jincheon thought he understood.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?"

"Yeah. It’s beautiful."

"It should be. It really is."

The man repeated the same words as before.

Jincheon glanced at him, unimpressed.

The middle-aged man, however, was staring intently at the red orb in Jincheon’s hands.

His expression was hard to read.

It wasn’t just admiration.

There was something deeper—something almost haunted. Like he was remembering something long past.

Seeing that look, Jincheon couldn’t bring himself to say anything.