I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 50: What Must Be Given

The banquet was over.

Just like back in Jucheon, during his encounter with the former Provincial Commander, Jincheon once again found himself completely unable to make sense of what had just happened.

Regardless, the banquet—despite a bit of disruption—had ended on a relatively pleasant note.

And now, Jincheon’s group was on their way to the secondary residence.

As expected, the Heavenly Flame Palace maintained a secondary estate here in Nanzhou.

‘Well, they had one even in small cities. It’d be strange if they didn’t have one in the biggest city.’

Thinking that, Jincheon let out a faint chuckle.

Owning a secondary estate in a major city like Nanzhou was a monumental achievement.

Even the wealthiest people would find it difficult to pull off. For someone in Jincheon’s position, it was outright unthinkable.

And yet ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) here he was, thinking it’d be strange not to have one. No wonder he couldn’t help laughing at himself.

Clop, clop.

As the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed steadily, a question rose anew in Jincheon’s mind.

‘The Heavenly Flame Palace... What even is it?’

From the start, things had been off.

In Jucheon, the Provincial Commander had come out personally to greet him—but that could still be explained by the uniqueness of it being a border city.

But for the Prefectural Commissioner of Nanzhou to prostrate himself in full kowtow?

That was beyond extreme.

Even if it was meant as an apology, the so-called “offense” was no more than a verbal spat.

Family gatherings often end in arguments. Isn’t a little scuffle at a banquet nothing out of the ordinary?

‘Or... is it not?’

To be honest, Jincheon had never been to a formal banquet before. How would he know?

Still, it hardly seemed like the kind of situation that warranted a full-body prostration.

‘The more I see, the less I understand.’

To tell the truth, Jincheon had never really wanted to know much about the Heavenly Flame Palace.

Just being thrust into the role of Palace Master out of nowhere was overwhelming enough. Was he now expected to grasp the entire organization’s identity and external relations too?

But now that things had gone this far... it was hard not to be curious.

Jincheon tried to calmly piece together what he knew so far.

‘They’re definitely a closed-off group. They have rigid hierarchies like a military. They form tight bonds through what’s basically a fanatical devotion to their Palace Master...’

These were common characteristics of clannish, insular communities—or remote villages cut off from the world that develop their own culture and order.

In such cases, local groups often end up operating outside public authority or law.

But usually, that kind of influence is limited, temporary, and kept underground.

Once it becomes a public issue, government power always prevails.

But the Heavenly Flame Palace was... different.

The Provincial Commander of Gahyeok Pass had personally welcomed Jincheon.

The highest-ranking officials in Nanzhou—the Prefectural Commissioner, the Inspector-General, and the Provincial Commander—all greeted him with bowed heads.

‘At this point...’

Wasn’t this basically how one would treat the Emperor?

Even Ilyo, one of the Seven Luminaries, had clearly said, “Gamsuk belongs to the Heavenly Flame Palace.”

‘No way.’

Jincheon quickly shook his head.

There was no way that was true.

It was best for his mental health to brush away such pointless thoughts immediately.

‘Besides, these people... the things they get emotional about are just strange.’

It made no sense that they treasured him so excessively—but even more baffling was how they’d tear up over a simple, ordinary comment.

Did he ever say anything that profound?

Clop, clop.

Thinking about it wouldn’t bring him answers.

These were people far beyond his understanding.

“Phew.”

Jincheon let out a sigh.

‘As I thought... someone like me playing the role of Palace Master is just...’

It was far beyond his station.

The Heavenly Flame Palace had secondary estates in every city of Gamsuk.

Even the highest officials in Jucheon and Nanzhou bowed to him.

How could someone like Jincheon—just an ordinary man—possibly shoulder such a role?

‘Not that I ever wanted the job to begin with.’

He shoved away the small pang of regret lingering in his chest—just as a voice came from outside the carriage.

“Palace Master.”

It was Ilyo.

Startled, Jincheon answered reflexively.

“Ah! Wh-What is it?”

He’d been right in the middle of reflecting on how absurdly grand the Palace was compared to how insignificant he was—so the timing caught him off guard.

Ilyo’s voice came, calm as ever.

“Is something troubling you?”

She must have heard him sigh just now.

Jincheon quickly replied.

“Uh? No. Nothing at all...”

“Then... is something uncomfortable?”

She sounded a little tense, and Jincheon noticed it right away.

They hadn’t been together that long, but he’d already grown familiar enough with her to recognize the slight shift in her usual tone.

A smile crept onto his lips.

Normally so proud and aloof, she couldn’t even hide her nervousness in front of him.

That vulnerability... for some reason, it made her feel oddly endearing.

“No,”

Jincheon answered gently.

“With all of you around... what more could I need?”

Clop, clop.

A short silence followed.

“...Thank you.”

Came Ilyo’s soft voice.

Jincheon let out a quiet, relaxed chuckle.

And with that, the conversation ended.

What he didn’t know, sitting comfortably inside the carriage, was that Ilyo had just frowned as she silently scolded the other Luminaries’ high-pitched voice transmissions chirping in her ear.

And so, the carriage carrying Jincheon passed through the bustling heart of Gamsuk’s grand city of Nanzhou.

At the very heart of Beijing stood the Imperial Palace—a city unto itself, a fortress in its own right.

The Forbidden City, painted in red and cloaked in sacred authority, overwhelmed all who looked upon it with its vastness and grandeur.

But people did not bow their heads in reverence because of its magnificence or beauty.

They bowed because of its master—the one who resided within. The sovereign of this land. The Emperor, ordained by Heaven, who reigned above all.

“Your Majesty.”

An elderly official with snow-white hair bowed deeply as he addressed the Emperor in a cautious tone.

But no answer came.

The old Emperor, reclining at an angle, kept his indifferent gaze fixed on the book in his hands.

Unlike the Outer Court where matters of state were handled, this was an Inner Palace, a private space. Accordingly, the Emperor’s attire was simple.

And yet, the red silk robe adorned with a golden dragon shimmered, exuding an unmistakable presence.

The aged official remained silent, still bowed, waiting.

How much time passed like that?

Sigh.

Rustle.

With a quiet breath, the elderly Emperor lowered his book.

“Gipyeong, are you trying to rob me of even my resting hours? My body is no longer what it used to be, you know.”

The Emperor frowned as he spoke.

The elderly official—Gipyeong, the Grand Academician of the Inner Cabinet—offered a wry smile.

“If we're going by physical condition, then this humble servant already has one foot in the grave. So perhaps Your Majesty might first grant me permission to retire...”

Tap.

The Emperor clicked his tongue and tossed the book aside.

“Spare me the nonsense. Why are you here?”

The fact that Grand Academician Gipyeong had come all the way to this inner chamber could only mean that the matter was too sensitive to be spoken of publicly.

And the Emperor already knew exactly what it was about.

“It seems the Palace Master of the Heavenly Flame Palace is preparing to enter Xian.”

The Emperor’s brows drew together.

“Them? Why?”

Gipyeong clicked his tongue inwardly.

This had already been discussed just a few days ago, and yet the Emperor was pretending it was the first he’d heard of it.

It was a clear sign that the topic displeased him.

“I believe it’s a response to the disappearance of the former Palace Master.”

“Hmph.”

The Emperor scoffed.

“Wandering off on their own and meeting some vague misfortune—that’s all it was. Why would you be concerned with it?”

The words were deliberately chosen.

“Misfortune.” “You,” as though it were someone else’s concern.

Bowing again, Gipyeong answered,

“Your Majesty speaks true. However, allowing them to come and go freely would not be wise.”

A covert, personal visit was one thing—but this was not that. They were now moving openly, with numbers, and the implications were far greater.

After all, how the new Palace Master handled the “misfortune” of their predecessor would be seen as a test of their competence—and their legitimacy.

Their response would be unpredictable.

Groan.

The aged Emperor let out a low sound and glanced at Gipyeong.

But the seasoned Grand Academician stood motionless, waiting without so much as a flicker of emotion.

“What became of the former Palace Master?”

“We have yet to find them.”

“Incompetent.”

The Emperor didn’t hide his displeasure.

“Those so-called martial families, those bloated merchant syndicates...”

“They’ve always been more interested in swinging swords or chasing profit. It’s only natural they fail to meet Your Majesty’s expectations.”

“Tch.”

The Emperor leaned back against the long red chair and tapped the armrest with his fingers.

Then, after a long silence, he spoke slowly.

“So tell me... What must I give them?”

Gipyeong bowed deeply once more.

“They do not seek power. They have no need for wealth. Nor do they chase fame.”

“And so?”

“What Your Majesty must grant them... is respect.”

The Emperor frowned again.

But Gipyeong remained calm as he continued.

“Have a noble of high birth go out in person to receive them. Let that envoy deliver the grace of Your Majesty. If so, they will understand that Your Majesty holds them in esteem—and before such benevolence, they will bow their heads.”

His words flowed like water—graceful, composed. But the Emperor’s expression showed no change.

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“Bow their heads? Them? I’m sure they’d just love that.”

“Yet they have always acknowledged Your Majesty as the ruler of this land—since the days of the Founding Emperor himself.”

Even invoking the name of the dynasty’s founder failed to soften the Emperor’s expression.

“Yes... only just that much.”

The Emperor’s voice was thick with irritation.

He fell silent again.

Gipyeong decided to guide him to a conclusion.

“On another matter—word has come that the Inspector-General of Gamsuk has died of a strange illness.”

“A strange illness?”

Strange illness—a term typically used when the cause of death was unknown or unnatural.

“Yes. The Prefectural Commissioner reported that, fearing contagion, the body was cremated immediately.”

The Emperor said nothing.

The Inspector-General of Gamsuk had been stationed in Nanzhou.

And now, the newly appointed Palace Master of the Heavenly Flame Palace happened to be passing through Nanzhou as well.

The Prefectural Commissioner, who filed the report, had served in Gamsuk for over ten years—a seasoned official.

The Emperor understood the connection immediately.

“...They called it a strange illness?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And so they cremated him?”

“That is correct.”

The “strange illness” wasn’t the point.

The cremation was.

The death of a top-ranking local official had been handled swiftly, with no trace left behind.

It was an unspoken admission that they had hidden the cause of death—or at least the body itself.

Whether the one who orchestrated it was the Prefectural Commissioner or Grand Academician Gipyeong, the Emperor could not say.

“What about Lady Huimun?”

At the Emperor’s casually tossed question, Gipyeong brought his hands together and bowed deeply.

“Lady Huimun is both graceful and wise. She would be well-suited to deliver Your Majesty’s grace to them.”

Lady Huimun was not the Emperor’s daughter.

But she was the child of a royal prince—a member of the imperial family and noble by birth, beyond question.

“Then... what should I bestow upon them?”

The Emperor’s gaze turned chilling.

Before that gaze, anyone would have chosen their words carefully.

But Gipyeong met it with a serene smile.