I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 33: The Night of the Heavenly Flame Palace

Night came quickly to the Heavenly Valley.

As he gazed upon the streets, where multicolored lanterns sparkled in the dusk, Jincheon quietly savored his tea.

Whew. Well, the bag situation is handled...

He hadn’t recovered it yet, but now that a solution was in place, his mind felt lighter.

Jincheon watched the deepening shadows fall over the Heavenly Valley as lanterns began to light one by one.

Then suddenly, he recalled something Ilyo had said earlier.

“...Did you say just now that the Ice Palace would cooperate?”

This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.

The Northern Sea Ice Palace—an outerworld force spoken of in the tales of storytellers.

As if it were a realm beyond the ends of the earth, shrouded in mystery.

“Yes,” Ilyo replied.

“And why is that?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ilyo answered,

“Because it is a matter of retrieving what belongs to the Red Dragon. If the Ice Palace does not wish to be eradicated, they must comply.”

Wow.

Jincheon was honestly impressed.

Even if she had said they had diplomatic ties or were on friendly terms, it would’ve been hard to believe. But to say if they don’t want to be wiped out, they must comply?

This level of bluster is almost admirable...

He had felt it before, but the black-haired maid Ilyo’s attitude was truly something else.

From her flawless embodiment of “So what are you going to do about it?” earlier, to now exuding pure bravado—no one could match the traits that old man used to talk about better than she did.

And with such stunning beauty and unwavering poise, Jincheon found himself losing the will to argue.

Come to think of it...

Back in the grand hall, when Jincheon said he would head for the Central Plains, the first question asked was “What punishment shall you bestow upon them?”

The words “to bestow punishment” and chijoe—to judge right from wrong and rebuke—were terms used only when a figure of authority addressed a subordinate.

And to speak of punishing the entire Central Plains? Not even the imperial court would go that far.

They say bluster is the foundation here—guess they weren’t kidding.

Of course, the Heavenly Flame Palace was large.

The Heavenly Valley itself housed a full city, so it certainly wasn’t small.

But that was only true as an organization.

Just the Gansu region alone was comparable in size to a decent-sized country. To claim all of it as their own—no matter how you looked at it, it was blatant posturing.

And Jucheon being the palm of their hand?

Do they just have big hands?

Jincheon glanced at Ilyo’s hands.

Resting neatly atop her lap, her two hands looked especially pale and slender.

“Oh? He’s staring at her belly.”

Came Geumyo’s voice out of nowhere, and Jincheon flinched.

He quickly looked up—only to meet Ilyo’s eyes, gazing down at him.

“...If you so desire.”

“No! Absolutely not!”

Jincheon hurriedly waved his hands in panic.

He had no time to consider whether she might feel embarrassed—he was too busy trying to prove his own innocence.

“I wasn’t looking at her belly—I was looking at her hands! Just her hands! And not because I had any strange thoughts...”

Then suddenly, he noticed the tips of Ilyo’s ears, barely visible between the strands of her glossy black hair, had turned red.

Jincheon fell silent.

At this rate, he was going to come off like some lecher making crude advances at a palace maid.

The mood had to change.

After a moment of quiet, Jincheon let out a long sigh.

“Listen... all of you.”

He spoke in a low voice.

The earlier embarrassment was gone. His demeanor was now calm and serious.

“You’re certainly beautiful. Truly.”

Not only Ilyo, ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ but Wolyo, Geumyo, and Toyo all widened their eyes.

In those eyes—filled with surprise, and something like expectation—Jincheon continued in a composed, as-neutral-as-possible tone:

“But I am the Palace Master, and you are palace maids. I trust you, and I will entrust you with matters concerning me. But I will not touch you carelessly, nor speak to you inappropriately. That concerns the dignity of the individual. Understood?”

The ancient sages did not teach etiquette and ethics out of love for stuffy rituals.

They did so because, at its core, it was about respect for human beings and a belief in human dignity.

Which is why it was best to draw a clear line in such matters.

Even if the customs here were peculiar—even if Jincheon had no idea what would happen going forward—it was better this way.

“Understood.”

The black-haired maid Ilyo bowed her head respectfully.

Her ears, once red, had returned to their normal color.

“Woooow.”

Bright silver-haired Geumyo—Yeonhwa—murmured in admiration, her eyes wide.

Jincheon felt proud, as though his intent had been delivered properly. But that sense of fulfillment didn’t last long.

“But what does ‘dignity of the individual’ mean?”

At Geumyo’s question, Toyo furrowed her brows and gave her a look—but Geumyo remained unfazed.

“What? You don’t know either.”

Jincheon cleared his throat.

“Ahem, that’s something we can go over later if the opportunity arises...”

He tried to dodge the subject, but Geumyo didn’t let it go.

“And when you said you wouldn’t carelessly touch us, does that mean you would if you were serious? Also, the Red Dragon is the Celestial Dragon of the Heavens—can you really apply human rules to him?”

“Well... that’s...”

She wasn’t exactly wrong. And in a way, she’d gone straight to the heart of it.

Should the laws of man even apply to a dragon of the heavens? Could human norms really be said to surpass the laws of nature?

Jincheon remained silent for a moment, then spoke.

“...There’s certainly room for debate.”

He couldn’t retreat from his stance—but he also couldn’t lie to his conscience.

Even if he had failed the civil exam, a man of learning ought to be cautious, upright, and honest.

And besides, Geumyo’s point wasn’t irrelevant.

The idea of human dignity aligned with taking others seriously. But human laws, just because they’re written, didn’t make them universal truths.

“I can’t give a definite answer. But it was a good question.”

“Really? Hehehehehe.”

Bright silver-haired Geumyo beamed with delight.

“You really are amazing, Red Dragon. I thought all you did was stare at Suyo’s hair and Hwayo’s chest, but turns out you’re not just thinking dirty thoughts after all!”

Jincheon had nothing to say.

Even if it wasn’t intentional, the truth was—he had looked at those things.

“Well, that just... sort of happened in the moment...”

“Twenty-seven times and thirty-four times, respectively.”

I looked that many times?

Jincheon was profoundly grateful that Suyo and Hwayo weren’t present right now.

But Geumyo wasn’t done.

“Of course, the person you looked at the longest was Ilyo’s face.”

He wanted to argue that it was Ilyo’s glossy black hair—not her face—but couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Ahem.”

Jincheon cleared his throat in feigned composure and lifted his teacup.

Trying to be clear and proper had only backfired on him.

At times like this, what was needed was a shameless expression and a smooth change of subject.

It was already a lost cause anyway.

“So... when do you think my belongings will be retrieved?”

He asked, steering the conversation away, and Ilyo answered.

“Before sunrise tomorrow, they will be delivered.”

Tomorrow morning?

Jucheon wasn’t close by. Jincheon had passed through it himself just the night before—it took a fair bit of time to get here.

And yet, Ilyo claimed it would be brought back before dawn. Even factoring in the time needed to find it, it sounded unlikely.

Still, Jincheon couldn’t say “Don’t push yourselves”—that luggage was something he absolutely could not afford to lose.

“Ah... thank you.”

It sounded like empty bravado, but Jincheon offered his gratitude anyway.

Ilyo bowed as if to say think nothing of it.

Perhaps even baseless declarations could feel reassuring when spoken by someone so confident and beautiful.

Well, worst case, I can pick it up when we pass through tomorrow.

They’d be going through Jucheon anyway. He could get it then—assuming the innkeeper hadn’t thrown it out.

It’s a little close for comfort, though...

Surely the innkeeper hadn’t sold it off already.

Jincheon forced himself to stay calm and lifted his teacup.

Clack.

The tea had cooled a little, but the lingering fragrance gently soothed his thoughts.

****

The North Wind Commander, Neung Gayeon, stood in her quarters, watching as darkness fell over the Heavenly Valley.

The sun had long since dipped beyond the mountain.

The streets of the Heavenly Valley were lighting up, one by one, sketching a nighttime panorama of shimmering colors.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Neung Gayeon spoke.

“Though lit by the hands of fragile, feeble humans, it shines so warmly, so radiantly... it feels as though even the stars of the cold night sky might be lured down to earth by that warmth.”

Her chief aide, Baekrim’s Shin Hwiyeon, gave no reply.

Her gaze remained fixed on the white fingertips of Neung Gayeon as they gently stroked the black cord around her neck.

At a glance, it looked like simple black, but upon closer inspection, fine embroidery shimmered in the light, revealing a subtle pattern stitched with glittering thread.

“Hehe.”

Neung Gayeon laughed softly.

She seemed to savor Shin Hwiyeon’s gaze as she spoke.

“What do you think of this?”

“...It was bestowed by the Red Dragon. How could it be anything but precious?”

“It is more than that.”

Neung Gayeon continued in a gentle voice.

“This is the mark of subjugation and the proof of liberation. Even the act of entering or leaving, even the act of breathing itself—all of it now lies under his permission...”

Rustle.

She softly caressed the black cord as she spoke.

“By this, I am wholly captured by his hand. And by that very fact, I am freed from all other things in this world. If that is not subjugation, what is? And if that is not liberation, what could be?”

Her reasoning was extreme, even dangerously one-sided.

But Chief Aide Shin Hwiyeon offered no rebuttal.

For one who had reached the realm of the Four Winds, like Neung Gayeon, human logic and common sense no longer applied.

“Are you happy?”

“How could I not be?”

Neung Gayeon replied, smiling faintly.

“He is endlessly noble and fragile... fearful and yet delicate... and yet he worries for us, pities us, grieves for us. The awkward courage he mustered to save me—how lovely it was...”

She let out a light laugh, her mind vividly replaying the events from the grand hall earlier.

“If you had felt his trembling touch, heard the sound of his pounding heart... you would have fallen in love with him too.”

“That would not happen to me.”

“Of course not. Because you love me.”

Neung Gayeon looked at Shin Hwiyeon with eyes deep and calm.

“Won’t you come up here? Tonight, for some reason, I find myself yearning for human warmth.”

Though it was a sultry invitation, Shin Hwiyeon averted her gaze and answered,

“Am I merely a substitute for someone else, to you?”

“Please don’t be so cruel to me.”

Neung Gayeon spoke with a faint smile.

“Still, the only one I’ve ever called to my bedchamber... is you. This is the first time I’ve said such a thing in... hmm, how long has it been? Ten years?”

“Twelve years. Twelve years and three months.”

Shin Hwiyeon corrected her, as she always did.

“Is that so? So... do you dislike it?”

Shin Hwiyeon bit her lip.

“...That’s unfair. How could I refuse, when you say it like that?”

“Indeed. A commander is always unfair and irrational. And besides, none of us are sane.”

Neung Gayeon reached out a pale hand toward her ever-avoiding chief aide.

“Come here.”

Shin Hwiyeon quietly stepped forward and gave herself to Neung Gayeon’s touch.

She knew this was nothing but a fleeting whim.

But she had waited too long. So she chose to become, willingly, a moment’s comfort for Neung Gayeon tonight.

Rustle.

As she embraced the slender, smooth body of Shin Hwiyeon, Neung Gayeon acknowledged the truth of her words.

This warm, soft “heat” was only a substitute for what she truly longed for.

Like a dream of the past—now shattered—one the harsh reality of the world no longer allowed, not even a sliver of hope.

Neung Gayeon tilted her head slightly and looked up at the lantern.

Whoosh.

With only that, the flame went out, and the room sank into darkness.

While the breathtaking nightscape of the Heavenly Valley sparkled beyond the window, the North Wind Commander’s quarters filled with a soft, lingering heat.