“The moon sure is exceptionally bright tonight.”
“You said it. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it shine this brightly. It’s a bit chilly, though. Once our shift ends, I’m thinking of heading to the kitchen for a bowl of hot soup.”
“Good idea. Let’s have some huangjiu with it. I’ve got a bottle stashed away. How about it?”
“As expected of you! That sounds perfect. Haha.”
The two guards on patrol chatted idly as they wandered near the wall, their figures occasionally disappearing into the shadows of the pavilion. Their movements didn’t escape Namgung Seol’s sharp eyes as she watched them from where she was hidden.
Carefully observing their patterns, Namgung Seol pulled an acorn from her pocket and hurled it toward the distant wall.
Thwack!
The small acorn hit the stone wall and clattered to the ground.
The sound of the acorn rolling against the stone wall pierced the quiet night, echoing faintly across the Namgung family estate.
Tap, tap, tap...
“What was that sound?”
“Seemed like it came from over there!”
“Let’s check it out!”
Although the sound wasn’t particularly loud, it was more than enough for the nearby guards to notice.
As expected, the two guards immediately ran toward the source of the sound, eventually picking up the acorn Namgung Seol had thrown.
“An acorn? Did a squirrel pass by?”
“Ah, scared for no reason. I guess it’s the season for squirrels to gather acorns.”
“Damn squirrels. Don’t they ever sleep? Startling us for nothing.”
While the guards talked about squirrels, Namgung Seol used the distraction to leap over the wall, moving like the very squirrel they were complaining about.
With no help from her younger brother this time, she was left to cross the Namgung estate’s walls on her own.
Kicking off the pavilion wall, she employed the Golden Carp Leaping Through Waves technique, twisting her body mid-air like a flying arrow, and landed on the other side of the wall as smoothly as a squirrel.
Having successfully evaded the guards, Namgung Seol quickly made her way to the hill where she had often practiced martial arts with her brother.
Reaching the base of the hill, she picked up a sturdy branch from the ground.
Her sword had been confiscated by her father, and borrowing her brother’s was no longer an option, so she had to make do with a branch.
After all, hadn’t the masters of legend trained with mere branches?
Though she wasn’t a legendary master herself, she resolved to practice nonetheless.
Under the unusually bright moonlight, on a hill blanketed with fallen petals from the blooming and fading flowers, Namgung Seol began her training, her passion burning as brightly as the night.
Before practicing her swordsmanship, she summoned the Heavenly Thunder Emperor Divine Art within her.
As the energy surged through her body, a tingling sensation spread from her core to her fingertips and toes, filling her with vitality.
She felt the rush of power coursing through her, but her expression turned bittersweet.
The Heavenly Thunder Emperor Divine Art was powerful, emphasizing yang energy far more than yin. Raising her energy to this level drained what little yin essence remained in her body, a consequence of her condition.
Shaking off the melancholy, she gripped the branch and began to practice the first move of the Emperor’s Sword Forms: The Emperor’s Sovereign Reign.
The Emperor’s Sword Forms began with The Emperor’s Sovereign Reign, a move that accumulated weight with each stroke, creating an overwhelming pressure when fully executed.
Whoosh! Shing!
As Namgung Seol swung the branch, the air around her seemed to ripple with sword pressure, causing the flowers nearby to bow their heads as if paying homage to an emperor.
When the flowers seemed on the verge of snapping under the pressure, she moved to the second form—her usual stumbling block.
Unlike the straightforward strikes of the first form, the second form required her to condense the accumulated pressure into a single, precise point.
Pit! Pit!
The branch, now used for thrusting instead of slashing, directed the gathered energy toward a single point.
Crack!
But before she could complete the move, the branch shattered with a loud crack, scattering the energy and sending petals swirling into the air.
Another failure.
Just one among countless attempts.
“Wait!”
But this time, something felt different.
Though she had failed, Namgung Seol stared at her hand in astonishment, the splintered remains of the branch still clutched in her grip.
When she practiced with a sword, she couldn’t pinpoint the issue, but using a branch had revealed the flaw in her technique—it wasn’t the branch that was at fault, but her poor energy control.
The realization filled her with exhilaration. She hurriedly dashed back down the hill to pick up another branch.
She had vowed to master the Emperor’s Sword Forms before her life burned out completely, and tonight, she felt she might be onto something.
With renewed determination, she resumed her practice, chasing the insight she had gained.
How long had she been swinging the branch?
Rustle!
The moon, once high above, had now dipped behind the peak of Huangshan, leaving the surroundings darker than before.
Namgung Seol froze mid-swing at the sound of movement in the brush where the hill met the forest.
Startled, she turned toward the noise and cautiously called out.
“Is that you, Eun?!”
She wondered if her younger brother, Namgung Eun, had come to check on her. He had a mischievous streak and might have woken up in the middle of the night to find her.
But there was no response from the brush.
“Who’s there? Watching someone train in secret isn’t exactly polite.”
Thinking it might be a lost herbalist or a hunter, she approached the source of the noise, but there was no sign of anyone.
Was it just a squirrel, like the guards had joked about earlier?
With a sigh, Namgung Seol dismissed the thought and gripped her branch tighter.
She didn’t have time to waste on a squirrel. Every moment was precious.
***
After the initial breakthrough on the first night, Namgung Seol’s days became a carefully balanced routine.
By day, she spent most of her time quietly embroidering with her younger brother, Eun, presenting herself as a docile and obedient lady. By night, however, she secretly trained with her sword under the cover of darkness.
She maintained this facade during the day to ensure she could train undisturbed at night. Additionally, pretending to focus on embroidery provided the perfect opportunity to reflect on the insights she had gained during her nighttime training.
As her fingers swiftly crafted the image of a peony—a flower synonymous with her title, "The Flower King Peony"—on black fabric with white thread, her mind was preoccupied with lingering questions from the night before.
‘Why did it suddenly feel like I was wearing clothes that didn’t fit me?’
She had been so close to succeeding with the technique the previous night. Yet, at that pivotal moment, the first thought that surfaced was how ill-fitting and awkward it all felt.
Lost in thought, she finished embroidering two peonies when a commotion outside broke her concentration.
It wasn’t Namgung Seol who reacted first but her younger brother, Eun.
“Why is it so noisy outside? Gae-ah, go and find out what’s happening.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
The servant Gae-ah, who tended to both Namgung Seol and her brother, obediently left to investigate.
Not long after, a senior servant from the head household came rushing in to deliver a message.
“Young Lady, the master has summoned you to the main hall immediately.”
“Father is calling for me?”
“Yes, Young Lady.”
Namgung Seol couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Perhaps her father had noticed her recent good behavior and was finally going to return her confiscated sword. With that optimistic thought, she made her way to the main hall.
As she passed by the training yard on her way, the noise from earlier seemed to originate there. However, she didn’t think much of it and entered the hall.
“Father, did you call for me?”
“Ah, yes, Seol. Please, take a seat.”
At her father’s instruction, she sat down and waited as he spoke in a cautious tone.
“Did you hear why it’s been so noisy outside?”
“The training yard, you mean? No, I haven’t heard anything.”
Her father nodded at her response, then asked hesitantly, “I have something to ask you. Understand that I’m not accusing you of anything, but I need you to answer truthfully. There are villagers involved, so I can’t punish anyone without being certain.”
Namgung Seol blinked in confusion but responded earnestly.
“Of course, Father. I would never lie to you.”
Her father nodded again, his expression both embarrassed and apologetic.
“Well... you see... how should I put this... Ah! The villagers say they’ve seen you in the Huangshan area these past few days. Is that true?”
“What!?”
Namgung Seol’s mind immediately went to the faint presences she had sensed during her nighttime training. It seemed the villagers had discovered her secret and reported it to her father. Guilt washed over her as she tightly shut her eyes and admitted the truth.
“I... I’m sorry, Father.”
The sourc𝗲 of this content is freēwēbηovel.c૦m.
Her confession was met with an explosive outburst.
“What!? So it’s true!?”
Her father’s thunderous voice echoed through the main hall, shaking its very foundations. His unleashed energy filled the room, rumbling like a storm.
Boom!
In the past, when she’d been caught training in secret, her father had simply reprimanded her and confiscated her sword, warning her not to be too hasty. This reaction, however, was far more intense.
Startled by his fury, Namgung Seol trembled as she watched her father’s enraged expression.
“You... how could you! What were you—ack!”
Grabbing his neck as if in pain, her father staggered backward. Alarmed, Namgung Seol rushed forward to support him, but he pushed her away with a hoarse shout.
“Father! Are you—”
“Step back! Is there no one outside!?”
“Yes, Master!”
“Take Namgung Seol to the Isolation Room! She is to be confined there, and no food or drink, save for water and medicinal pills, is to be brought to her. No one is to have contact with her!”
“Father!”
Despite her protests, Namgung Seol was immediately dragged away to the secluded Isolation Room, a place reserved exclusively for the Namgung family’s direct descendants.
Several days passed. Her younger brother, Eun, managed to bribe the guards outside the room and visited her with news—news so absurd that Namgung Seol could scarcely believe it.
“Sister, it’s not true, is it? They’re saying... they’re saying you seduced herbalists and hunters in Huangshan to steal their yang energy!”
“What!?”
Namgung Seol was utterly stunned.
Her father must have misunderstood something and believed she had committed some kind of indiscretion. But how could that be true? She had never even held a man’s hand, let alone done anything remotely scandalous!
“This is ridiculous!”
“Hic! I-I’m just repeating what I heard!”
Eun flinched as his sister’s face turned red with indignation, and she raised her voice again.
“This is absolutely ridiculous!”
Twice in a row, she declared it so.
Eun, who had been trying to comfort her, shrank back at her rare outburst. Namgung Seol was usually calm and composed, never one to shout or lose her temper.
“Eun, it’s not true. I swear it’s not true. Come with me—I’ll explain everything.”
Gripping his hand in her frustration, Namgung Seol dragged her brother to her room and sat him down on her bed to clarify the situation.
“Namgung Seol cannot be near men.”
“What? What do you mean by that?”
Eun stared at her, confused. Namgung Seol pointed at his chest and explained in a quiet, somber tone.
“The condition I have... It makes yang energy poisonous to me. Without yin energy, my body deteriorates. If I come into contact with yang energy, it shortens my lifespan. That’s why I’ve always kept my distance from men.”
Tears welled up in Namgung Seol’s eyes as she continued, her voice trembling.
“I would never do such a thing. This accusation... it’s so unfair.”
Eun listened intently, his expression turning serious.
‘A heroine with a fantastical condition like something out of a storybook... but she’s being accused of being a succubus? How absurd.’
While Eun found the situation somewhat surreal, he also began to worry.
If this misunderstanding persisted, would the Namgung family turn their anger on him as her friend? Would they bar him from even approaching the estate?
After all, when children misbehaved, parents often blamed their friends first. And in this case, he was her closest ally.