We had been sailing for three days since leaving Yizhou.
We spent each night on islands we came across during our journey.
The reason we didn’t stay close to the mainland was to avoid people.
There were many towns and villages along the coast, and we couldn’t risk people seeing the children.
But on the fourth day—
Until now, we’d always found an island around sunset without much trouble, but this time, it was well past dark, and we still hadn’t found one.
It seemed we had entered a region with fewer islands.
“At this rate, we might have to spend the night out at sea. Are you kids tired?”
– Shuu. 『We’re fine.』
– Shii. 『You should rest, So-ryong-nim. Aren’t you sleepy?』
“No, I’m okay, but I’m worried about you. Just in case, I’ll check one more time. Cho-ya, up.”
– Tsrreuk. 『Okay, Dad.』
Since Hwana and Hwanji needed rest, I sent Cho up into the sky to look around.
And then, far off in the distance, a light appeared.
A flickering glow in the middle of the sea—it had to be an island.
As we got closer, we saw a campfire burning on what appeared to be an uninhabited island.
Beneath the moonlight, there was a small boat on the shore.
Maybe a fisherman had come out to the deep sea and was forced to spend the night here.
I’d heard that fishermen sometimes stayed on uninhabited islands when they went far out.
“Thank goodness. Let’s head that way.”
After landing on the beach, I planned to speak to whoever made the fire, find out where we were, and spend the night quietly on one side of the beach.
I had hoped we could just sleep quietly, far away, but the island was too small for that.
Then suddenly, a woman jumped out.
She began introducing herself—then panicked.
“Amitabha! I am Hyehwa, a disciple of Bo-ta Temple. Please, if you could offer any aid... EEEK!”
She seemed startled by the children’s glowing eyes in the darkness.
But since she said she was a disciple of Bo-ta Temple, I figured this was a good opportunity and introduced myself to put her at ease.
“Ah, please calm down. These are spirit beasts I’ve raised—they won’t harm you. You said you’re from Bo-ta Temple? I’m So-ryong, son-in-law of the Sacheon Tang Clan. What brings you here—?”
The woman’s eyes widened, and she shouted in disbelief.
“So-ryong!? Are you really the So-ryong of the Sacheon Tang Clan!?”
She looked like someone who had just seen her long-lost parents. Overjoyed.
Gun Hye-rin, curious about her reaction, looked back and forth between us.
‘I guess I’m kind of famous.’
“Um... do you know me?”
Her reaction was so over-the-top that I asked politely.
“O-of course! My senior sister—Princess Gwan-do—told me to seek your help! Amitabha! Thank you! Thank you!”
She was barely holding herself together, and I couldn’t help but frown when I heard the word help.
At first, I thought it was great that the princess I was heading to see had been mentioned—but the fact she was asking for help meant she was probably dragging me into some new trouble.
Every time that princess asked for something, it was always a hassle.
Either a request to boost her fake husband’s status, or to wipe out pirates, or—
‘What is it this time...?’
Grumbling inwardly at the thought of getting dragged into more trouble, I asked the woman,
“The princess needs help? What’s going on?”
“Well, you see... you see... sniff...”
But instead of answering, the woman burst into tears, overwhelmed with emotion.
She had just been overjoyed, and now she was crying, so I was understandably confused—until she told me something hard to believe.
“Sniff... please save Bo-ta Temple!”
“...What?”
“Bo-ta Temple has been taken over by the Five Venoms Sect and the Blood Cult!”
“WHAT!?”
She said Bo-ta Temple had fallen to the joint forces of the Five Venoms Sect and the Blood Cult.
“A-are you serious? Please, explain exactly what happened. Wait—does Elder Bin-ak know about this!?”
Shocked, I demanded details and asked if Elder Seo Bin-ak, the princess’s fake husband, knew anything.
The woman bit her lip and spat bitterly,
“Don’t even speak that bastard’s name! It’s all because of Seo Bin-ak!”
“...Huh? What do you mean?”
“I’ll explain everything. Please, come this way.”
The woman, clearly harboring resentment toward Bin-ak, led us to the campfire and began her story.
“It was about a month and a half ago—”
***
Clang. Swoosh.
A cold blade cut through the dawn air.
In the grand martial arena of Bo-ta Temple, a sword was slicing through the break of day.
The one wielding the sword was Princess Gwan-do, Yu Ji-ryong.
She had just finished all twenty-four forms of Exorcising Sumeru Sword, Bo-ta Temple’s first-tier sword technique.
Gong—! Gong—!
Suddenly, the sound of a bell rang out, echoing through the crisp dawn air.
As Ji-ryong sheathed her sword and turned toward the bell, she saw a few temple disciples rushing toward the port through the open gate.
She walked to the doorway, caught up to one of them, and asked,
“What’s going on, junior sister?”
“Ah, senior. A ship has arrived at the harbor.”
“Well, the bell rang, so that much is obvious. What kind of ship is it?”
“It’s a military vessel. Maybe sent by the Governor of Zhejiang?”
The bell was the signal that a ship had docked.
She wondered what ship would arrive so early—probably sent by Seo Bin-ak.
“Then I should go see for myself.”
It had been three months since she last saw Seo Bin-ak.
They had exchanged letters occasionally, so Ji-ryong assumed he had sent one now.
It wasn’t the usual time for a letter to arrive, so she figured something urgent had come up.
She immediately used light footwork to head to the harbor, but a question arose in her mind.
Why had the ship arrived at such an odd hour?
‘If it arrived at dawn, that means it departed at midnight... what’s going on?’
The governor’s residence was in Hangzhou.
So if a ship had been sent, it would have departed from Hangzhou.
It usually took eight hours to travel from Hangzhou to Bo-ta Temple.
That meant the ship left in the dead of night, which felt suspicious.
“No way...”
A terrible thought crossed Ji-ryong’s mind.
“...No, it can’t be. He was told he had at least three more years if he took his medicine properly...”
She was suddenly gripped by the fear that Seo Bin-ak’s incurable disease had worsened.
The elder physician Yakseon had prescribed a treatment that would give him three more years if taken diligently, but now that a ship had arrived at dawn, bad thoughts filled her mind.
Worry took hold of Ji-ryong.
The marriage had been arranged as a ruse to fool her father, the Emperor—so she never saw him as a true husband.
But before the wedding, Ji-ryong and Bin-ak had made a pact.
She would treat him not as her husband, but as her retainer.
The only person who shared her secret.
Her one true vassal.
And now, the thought that Bin-ak might be gravely ill filled her with dread.
When she arrived at the harbor and approached the ship—
The disciples who had arrived before her wore dark expressions.
“Senior...”
“Senior...”
They couldn’t say anything and just trailed off.
The thought she feared now seemed like certainty.
Preparing herself mentally, Ji-ryong stepped in front of the ship and asked the guards with a tense face,
“What happened at this early hour?”
“P-Princess! The Governor of Zhejiang, Seo Bin-ak, is in critical condition!”
So the day had finally come.
It seemed it was time to say goodbye to her one and only retainer.
Ji-ryong closed her eyes tightly and stepped aboard the ship.
“Someone inform my master. I’ll be gone for a while.”
“Senior, we’ll go with you!”
“Thank you. Let’s go.”
The ship carrying Ji-ryong and two disciples began its journey to Hangzhou.
***
After eight hours of travel, Ji-ryong arrived in Hangzhou. She moved through the city streets with a heavy heart, heading toward the governor’s residence.
They had said Bin-ak’s life was like a candle flickering in the wind—how could she not be weighed down with worry?
The princess was supposed to be residing quietly in the inner hall of the administrative compound, so when Ji-ryong arrived at the government office with her face veiled and made her way through to the entrance of the governor’s family quarters, she was stopped by sharp-looking guards.
They were guards Ji-ryong had never seen before.
“This way alone, Princess.”
It wasn’t surprising that some guards knew her identity—she and Bin-ak had brought a few trusted ones into their confidence. But the inner hall was strictly reserved for the governor and his family.
Realizing too late that she’d attempted to enter with her fellow disciples, Ji-ryong asked them to wait and requested a place for them to rest, then continued on inside.
“Ah. Would you mind waiting here a bit? Please prepare a place for my disciples to rest.”
“Understood, Princess.”
Crossing through the courtyard, she arrived at the residence. Even here, unfamiliar guards stood watch.
Had Bin-ak increased the number of those who shared their secret?
But that suspicion vanished instantly with what came next.
Clack—
“The princess has arrived!”
The moment the guards announced her, the doors to the residence opened—
And there stood Bin-ak, smiling, his face perfectly fine.
“B-Bin-ak?”
“Haha, why the surprise? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The man who was supposedly on death’s door welcomed her with a healthy face—
In fact, he looked healthier than ever.
Bin-ak had a weak heart. Normally, his face was so pale that he wore red rouge to hide it. But Ji-ryong, with her keen martial eyes, could see that his face wasn’t wearing any makeup.
In fact, his cheeks even held a natural blush.
Stunned, Ji-ryong asked,
“You... weren’t you said to be critically ill?”
Instead of answering, Bin-ak turned to the guards and ordered,
“You are dismissed.”
“Yes, Governor.”
The guards outside withdrew from the front of the residence, and Bin-ak calmly began preparing tea.
Using the water already boiling on the brazier atop the table, he began speaking.
“Did I go too far with the joke? I just had some good news and wanted to share it.”
“Joke?”
At the word “joke,” Ji-ryong’s expression darkened.
All that worry she’d suffered during the boat ride here—only for this ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) to be a joke?
Furious, she shouted,
“How could you joke about your own life like that!?”
Bin-ak lowered his head and apologized.
The apology didn’t really soothe her, but his next words wiped away her anger instantly.
“I’m sorry, Princess. I... I was just so excited to be cured of my illness...”
“You’re cured?”
Even Elder Yakseon had said that was impossible.
“Yes, Princess.”
“But how? Even Elder Yakseon and the Immortal of Medicine said—”
“There’s someone with miraculous skill in medicine. Would you like to see for yourself?”
He extended his wrist.
Ji-ryong took his pulse—and was shocked to feel a strong, vigorous beat.
This wasn’t just recovery. He was in excellent health.
Her voice hurried with disbelief.
“It’s true? You really recovered? Please, explain everything.”
“The tea is ready. Let’s talk over a cup.”
Following Bin-ak’s gesture, Ji-ryong sat and took a sip.
The flavor was sharp—something she had never tasted before.
As she was thinking that the aroma was rather unique, Bin-ak spoke again.
“But first, I should apologize. Twice, in fact, Princess.”
“Apologize?”
“Yes. Two things. First, because my recovery has disrupted your plans—”
“Ah...”
The moment he said it, Ji-ryong understood what he meant.
His death had been the excuse she needed to renounce worldly life and enter the Buddhist order.
His survival had thrown that plan off.
But Ji-ryong shook her head.
“I’ll have to make some adjustments, but it’s not a big deal. Honestly, I’m just glad you’re alive. Oh! And since you’re healed, you can have children now too, right?”
“...Embarrassingly, yes, Princess.”
“Then I’ll just say I’m unable to bear children and take a secondary wife on your behalf. I always felt guilty about that, but I’m glad it worked out.”
She wasn’t too inconvenienced in her martial arts training, and she had always felt sorry for Bin-ak—so this felt like a relief.
But Bin-ak’s expression turned bitter.
“There’s one more thing I need to apologize for... To be cured, I had to pay a great price.”
It seemed he had spent a large sum to receive this treatment, but Ji-ryong just shook her head.
“I told you, didn’t I? You’re free to use your stipend or even my wealth however you need. Don’t worry about it.”
Half of the fortune she brought into the marriage had already been donated to Bo-ta Temple. Whatever remained, along with his salary, she had told him he could use as he pleased.
It really wasn’t a big deal. But then—
Her vision spun.
Clink.
The teacup slipped from her fingers.
Eyes wide in disbelief, Ji-ryong gasped,
“My... my qi...?”
Her inner energy was rapidly dispersing. She couldn’t steady her body.
In that instant, two words crossed her mind: Inner Energy-Dissolving Poison and Paralysis Poison.
And then—
Bin-ak’s voice, calm and chilling:
“Even if the price I paid... was you, Princess.”
