I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 56: What Does That Even Mean

The woman who had introduced herself as Huimun led Jincheon into a large room.

It seemed to be used as a reception hall. With its antique furnishings and scrolls inscribed in elegant calligraphy, the room exuded a refined, classical charm.

The rest of the guards were instructed to remain outside in the courtyard, but the seven attendants, the two Wind Commanders, Gi Seoran, and Po Eunryeong stayed by Jincheon’s side.

“Shall I serve tea?”

The woman asked.

When Jincheon nodded, she personally took the teapot in hand.

Pour...

As the cup filled, she turned to Sunday and said,

“Please test it.”

A flicker of something passed through Sunday’s eyes, but it was gone in an instant. With a slight nod from her, the blonde-haired Tuesday produced a small silver needle.

She gently stirred the tea with the needle and inspected the cup carefully. Then she nodded.

Sunday accepted the cup from Tuesday and placed it before Jincheon.

A fragrant aroma wafted around him.

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on freeweɓnøvel.com.

“The scent is lovely.”

Jincheon’s comment was sincere.

He hadn’t even taken a sip yet, but the soft aroma of the tea seemed to soothe the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.

He lifted the cup and took a small sip, savoring it before setting it back down.

Clack.

Jincheon looked at the woman smiling gently across from him.

“Huimun... that’s what you said, yes?”

“Yes. And please, speak freely. I would not presume to accept such formal courtesy from the Palace Master.”

Jincheon continued with his questions.

“You said you are the daughter of King Gyeongsun’s household... then doesn’t that make you a princess?”

Female relatives of the Imperial Family were generally addressed with the title of “princess.”

Jincheon’s guess was correct.

“That is how I’m addressed. But please, I ask that you not use the honorific.”

“You said you were entrusted with the gifts from His Majesty. Then you must have an imperial edict.”

An edict was a document bearing the order of the king or emperor.

If it bore the royal seal, it would be an imperial decree—before which anyone must bow in reverence.

“Yes.”

Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be a sealed decree.

‘Should I really be feeling relieved about that?’ Jincheon fell briefly into a moment of self-loathing at the thought.

While he brooded, she opened a long wooden case placed beside her and drew out a scroll.

Rustle.

A golden dragon embossed on the scroll caught Jincheon’s eye.

‘Ugh.’

The ornate seal seemed to radiate the seriousness of what he was about to face. Jincheon groaned internally.

The odds that this was all very, very real were rising by the second.

By then, the silver-haired Monday had accepted the scroll from Huimun and placed it respectfully before Jincheon.

Shfft.

Jincheon stared at the scroll adorned in gold.

It still didn’t feel real, but she had claimed this was an imperial edict.

There was only one way to find out.

But Jincheon couldn’t bring himself to reach for it so easily.

‘If this is real... then this is serious trouble.’

With the Heavenly Flame Palace people, even if things went wrong later, Jincheon could offer excuses. He could argue it had been unavoidable.

He hadn’t acted with malice or done anything particularly wrong—there was still room for understanding.

But if the emperor was involved, he couldn’t just say, “It was all a misunderstanding.”

Jincheon didn’t want to open the scroll.

No, he would have preferred not to even know of its existence. He wanted no part in this.

But right now, even if only “temporarily” and “unofficially,” Jincheon was acting as the Palace Master of the Heavenly Flame Palace. He had been treated as such, and had conducted himself accordingly.

Which meant he could not turn away from this duty.

‘...Alright. Let’s just see what it says.’

Just because something came his way didn’t mean he had to shoulder it alone.

There were ways to dodge, delay, or—even if cowardly—pass it on to someone else.

Jincheon steeled himself.

Rustle.

Summoning his courage, he unfurled the scroll.

Technically, one was supposed to pay respects when opening an edict, but the thought hadn’t crossed Jincheon’s mind.

The content wasn’t long.

Jincheon read through the scroll quickly. Then his brow furrowed.

‘Huh?’

Something felt wrong.

He read it again. It still felt wrong.

‘What... is this?’

When it came to texts and writing, Jincheon was an expert. There was no way he had misunderstood.

He had read countless historical documents while studying for exams.

Jincheon himself may have been an ordinary man, but he knew very well how kingdoms and dynasties had operated throughout history.

“...This is...”

Clack.

He placed the scroll down and spoke.

“I can’t accept this.”

Everyone’s eyes reacted with visible surprise. But Jincheon’s gaze remained fixed on the scroll he had set down.

After a moment of silent thought, Jincheon shook his head lightly.

“No. This can’t be accepted. No—it mustn’t be accepted.”

“What did he send?”

It was North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon, asking gently.

Jincheon replied as if it were nothing.

“It’s an edict granting a royal title and permission to establish a princely household.”

His tone was casual, but everyone’s expression turned grim.

Normally, such news would warrant surprise and celebration. But the response from the people of the Heavenly Flame Palace was the opposite.

Neung Gayeon let out a hollow, incredulous laugh, while Ak Mujin clenched his teeth.

“How dare they...”

“Compose yourself.”

Jincheon quickly intervened.

Ak Mujin bowed his head in obedience, but the fury in his eyes was still visible.

“Why won’t you accept it?”

The bright, clear voice made Jincheon turn his head. Princess Huimun was gazing at him, her eyes sparkling.

“To be granted the title of prince and to establish a princely house is an immense honor. Even marrying an imperial princess and becoming the emperor’s son-in-law doesn’t make it possible.”

Only the emperor’s brothers or sons could be called wang—princes.

Even imperial sons-in-law could not receive such a title.

“Exactly because of that... No—that’s precisely why.”

His words stumbled a bit from conversing with so many people.

Jincheon decided to just speak plainly again. She had told him earlier to speak comfortably, after all.

“Historically, those granted the title of prince were always direct blood relatives of the emperor. That is, they were always within the line of succession, near or far. So if the Heavenly Flame Palace were to accept such a title here...”

His eyes sharpened.

“How would that be any different from declaring we’re entering the imperial succession struggle?”

To Jincheon, this was beyond absurd.

No matter how the Heavenly Flame Palace was treated like royalty in Gamsuk, or how the imperial family expressed respect and affection toward its master, stepping into [N O V E L I G H T] the imperial succession was another matter entirely.

‘No dynasty ever tolerated anyone reaching for imperial power. They even kept a tight leash on the Crown Prince—the future ruler. And now, the Heavenly Flame Palace, from the outskirts?’

This was crossing a line—no, obliterating it. It was sheer madness.

It was like willingly walking to your death. Even if the former Palace Master—that old man—were to attempt it, Jincheon would have done everything to stop him.

“So I won’t accept it.”

Princess Huimun’s expression became complicated. In a quiet voice, she asked:

“Do you truly refuse?”

“I do.”

“Are you certain?”

Pressed by her persistent questioning, Jincheon answered firmly.

“It’s not even worth considering.”

As if engaging in a staring contest—or trying to peer into his heart—Princess Huimun stared straight at Jincheon.

Jincheon stood firm.

Anyone else in his place—anyone with even a shred of reason—would have refused this offer as well.

“I see. So you’re refusing the royal title,”

Princess Huimun murmured softly, almost as if to herself.

Then, all at once, she let out a sigh of relief, tinged with a quiet laugh.

“Heh.”

She smiled gently and said,

“I’m glad. That the person I serve isn’t a fool blinded by greed.”

“Such irreverent speech toward the Palace Master—”

Sunday immediately stepped in, her gaze sharp as steel as she looked down at Princess Huimun.

“—will not be tolerated.”

“Is that so? I’ll keep that in mind,”

Princess Huimun replied with a smile.

“But I was offering praise to the Palace Master. If anything, isn’t it you who was rude, interrupting our conversation?”

“Sunday is fine.”

Jincheon quickly interjected. At once, Princess Huimun lowered her head.

“I see. Then I apologize for my careless words.”

“It’s fine. But... hold on.”

Jincheon furrowed his brows as he asked,

“What did you mean just now?”

“That the Palace Master isn’t a fool?”

“No, before that.”

“You mean, when I said the person I serve is the Palace Master?”

Jincheon gave a slow nod.

Princess Huimun smiled gently.

“What do you think is the prerequisite for granting someone a royal title and estate?”

Huh?

Jincheon tilted his head, thinking for a moment.

“Well, obviously it would be establishing a blood relation... but didn’t you just say even becoming a royal son-in-law isn’t enough to receive a title?”

“Yes. The regulations and precedents of the Imperial Household are very clear when it comes to royal titles. But any law, once written, can be circumvented.”

Laws never account for every possibility.

That’s why someone must interpret their intent and purpose—and apply judgment accordingly.

Which means, with enough manipulation, even strict rules can be bypassed or rendered meaningless.

“Just off the top of my head, I can think of a few ways. For example, the Palace Master could first become a relative of the Imperial Family, then be adopted as the son of a former prince...”

“Is that even allowed? That would make the genealogy... incredibly messy.”

That was a polite way of saying an utter disaster.

But Princess Huimun simply shrugged her slender shoulders, as if it were obvious.

“The Imperial family tree’s been a tangled mess since forever. Or we could claim you’re some distant relative from several generations back. There wouldn’t be any proof or witnesses to say otherwise.”

Jincheon was dumbfounded.

Could they really treat the Imperial genealogy like that?

But to be fair, history was full of far more ridiculous examples.

Still, now wasn’t the time to reflect on historical absurdities.

Even though they had breezed past the topic, a critical issue remained.

“No, before that—why are you saying you serve me?”

“I told you. In order to issue the edict granting a royal title and estate, a prerequisite must be fulfilled.”

That prerequisite was a blood relation to the Imperial Family. And in truth, that meant marriage.

It was only then that Jincheon fully understood her words. Princess Huimun had been sent to be his bride.

“I’ve already rejected the title and estate.”

“The scroll was merely a follow-up to the gift. A conditional gesture, should you wish to accept it.”

Princess Huimun continued, not the slightest hesitation in her voice.

“The gift His Majesty sent to the Palace Master—entrusted to me—is me, myself. The Emperor sent the daughter of King Gyeongsun’s household to the Palace Master. As a gesture of respect and affection.”

Jincheon felt a headache coming on. What in the world was she saying now?

“I can’t possibly accept—”

“I’m sorry, but before you say that, you should consider one thing first.”

Her voice was gentle as she spoke.

“What do you think it means to reject a gift imbued with the Emperor’s respect and affection?”

Jincheon had no reply.

But the others did not remain silent.

“How dare—”

Just as East Wind Commander Ak Mujin was about to shout in fury, North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon interrupted.

“And even if you do—what will you do about it?”

She looked directly at Princess Huimun and spoke in a calm but chilling tone.

“Go on, then. With that smooth little tongue of yours, tell me what happens next.”

“I don’t know.”

Princess Huimun replied to Neung Gayeon.

“I am merely a nameless daughter of a minor princely household, and was sent here as a gift. My own problems are overwhelming—I could never presume to speak of the greater political tide.”

She turned her head toward Jincheon.

“But I can still guess what it might mean for the Heavenly Flame Palace to slap away the hand of the Imperial Family. Isn’t that so, Palace Master?”

Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Jincheon. As though certain he would understand—certain he would agree.

But Jincheon didn’t.

“What does that even mean?”

That’s what he wanted to ask. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud.

Still, one thing was absolutely clear—he couldn’t just send her back, but neither could he accept her outright.

“For now.”

Jincheon said.

“Let’s speak again later.”

There was no helping it. The matter was too enormous to resolve here and now.

But in truth, that was no different from saying: At the very least, for now, you’re not going anywhere.

“Of course. Anytime you wish.”

Princess Huimun smiled brightly.