The Imperial Court in Turmoil
A month had passed since the Beijing Rebellion shook the capital to its core. In that time, the imperial family and government officials had been run ragged, barely able to catch their breath. The East Depot had failed to notice that rebels had established a base on Mount Wanse, the spiritual guardian mountain of the imperial family. The Jinyiwei, tasked with protecting Beijing and the Forbidden City, had lost nearly half its forces in the fighting, including their commander, Gwak Dan, who had fallen in battle. It was the worst crisis the Ming imperial court had faced since the Tumu Crisis, the greatest humiliation in the dynasty’s history.
The Murim world, empowered by the opening of the Ghost Gates, continued to grow stronger with each passing day. The Oirats, once the most dangerous enemy after inciting the Tumu Crisis, had collapsed from internal strife. Yet powerful forces such as the Mongols still lurked in the north, ready to strike. Had the Oirats not destroyed themselves through infighting, the Ming might have already lost Hebei and found itself fleeing south like the Southern Song dynasty of old. And one could not forget the Japanese pirates who persistently plagued the southern coasts. After suppressing tens of thousands in Shandong and seemingly eradicating them from the Liaodong Peninsula some fifty years ago, the raiders had now shifted their attacks to the south, where a powerful navy stood guard. That headache refused to go away.
With Ghost Gates opening and plunging even the capital into chaos, the terror and shock that gripped the Ming imperial family could hardly be overstated.
“We are truly fortunate that His Majesty is wise. He has managed to extinguish the most urgent flames for now…”
This was why even members of the imperial family, not just officials, were working without rest. Emperor Seonghwa had quelled the unrest by demonstrating that the imperial family stood with the people. He opened medical centers to treat the injured and dispatched members of the imperial family to assist. He ordered the imperial princes and princesses to distribute relief grain, comforting the common people of Beijing. Thanks to these measures, the citizens shook off their anxiety, believing the Emperor and the imperial family were truly with them, and returned to their daily lives. Emperor Seonghwa’s decisive actions could only be called truly wise.
In addition, he took the radical step of hiring displaced citizens to rebuild the damaged government offices, paying them wages to prevent an economic crisis among the people. He also held memorial services for the officials and civilians who had died. For Gwak Dan, who had died after capturing the mastermind and closing the Ghost Gate on Mount Wanse, he even bestowed a posthumous title. All of this was accomplished in a single month—an astonishingly swift handling of affairs that included selecting the title, conducting the ancestral rites, and formally granting it.
Despite displaying such admirable conduct befitting a wise ruler, Han Gye-ran could not suppress a sigh of frustration.
Emperor Seonghwa cherished his concubine far more than his official Empress. The concubine’s name was Man Jeong-ah. As a noble consort—second only to the Empress in rank—she was known as Consort Man, or Man Gwi-bi.
Though she was nineteen years older than Emperor Seonghwa, she had captured his heart because she had been his wet nurse. She had comforted him through the turbulent years of political strife that marked his childhood. Having received such favor, Consort Man bore the Emperor’s eldest son. But because she had given birth at such an advanced age, the child died young. That was when her madness began.
Relying on the Emperor’s favor, she framed the Empress and had her deposed. Even more shockingly, she forced abortions on concubines who had conceived the Emperor’s children. She went so far as to poison Crown Prince Ju U-geuk, claiming he was not her own child. The imperial bloodline had nearly been severed. Yet Emperor Seonghwa protected her. He had even tried to elevate her to Empress. Only the fierce opposition of Empress Dowager Joo Tae-hoo—his own mother—and the silent support of his grandmother, Han Gye-ran, who had risked her life to protect him during his most dangerous years, forced him to back down. Even now, he seemed ready to try again at any moment.
At Han Gye-ran’s worried words, Empress Dowager Joo Tae-hoo gently took her hand.
“Grand Empress Dowager…”
The signs were already visible. Determined to secure an heir, the Emperor had suppressed Consort Man and kept a son by his side, but he still fell completely for her every word.
“We should have made that young man our grandson-in-law without fail.”
Han Gye-ran’s lament and deepening concern stemmed from the same root. The Beijing Rebellion—Lee Ja-ryong’s uprising—had completely upended the capital’s political landscape. In the battle to close the Ghost Gate on Mount Wanse, the imperial family had lost a powerful trump card. Gwak Dan’s death was painful, but the absence of the world’s strongest expert, the one who had guaranteed the imperial family’s absolute military might, was an even greater blow.
To fill that void, the imperial family had exerted every effort. Loyal Murim clans had been summoned. The head of the Divine Spear Yang family had come to Beijing. Han Gye-ran, who had used her age as an excuse to remain almost completely secluded, had begun actively engaging with the outside world. These measures were manageable. The Yang family head was a supreme expert whose reputation stood alongside Gwak Dan’s. He could protect Beijing in Gwak Dan’s stead for the time being.
The real problem was Emperor Seonghwa himself. The chronic occupational disease of those in power—paranoia—had taken root. He no longer trusted the East Depot or the Jinyiwei. To him, they were incompetent fools who had failed to notice Lee Ja-ryong building an altar on Mount Wanse to open the Ghost Gate. Therefore, he had decided to create a new direct intelligence and military organization that would surpass the East Depot: the Western Depot, formally the West Depot of Imperial Affairs, commonly called the Seochang.
And the man chosen to lead the West Depot, Wang Jik, was one of Consort Man’s people.
How reassuring it would have been if that young man were here. His strength alone was impressive, but if they positioned him as Gwak Dan’s successor, he could have played a crucial role in blocking Consort Man’s ambition to seize a military intelligence organization. A quick investigation would have revealed that the Hebei Paeng family was already eyeing him with great interest. With Gwak Dan already dead, did they not realize how difficult it would be to pull him away while suppressing the Paeng family’s objections? Even if the entire imperial family united and raised their voices together, it would barely be enough. Yet those treacherous ministers, blinded by personal gain, had suggested giving him some token reward and calling it a day. The mere thought of them made Han Gye-ran’s blood boil.
What? He didn’t seem particularly interested anyway, and he had apparently taken the horn of that Mangcheonhu that emerged from the Ghost Gate, so they should just let it slide? That the Grand Empress Dowager must be feeling homesick? Such nonsense was beyond ridiculous. Had they not witnessed with their own eyes how the capital had been turned upside down? Did they still not understand how vital a supreme expert was? She wanted to ask them what they planned to do if another supreme expert attempted to overthrow the imperial family again. Without such an expert standing guard, even the Forbidden City—with all its protective spells and fortifications—had clear limits.
This was exactly why she could never associate with those ink-stained bureaucrats who only cared about expanding their own power. Thinking of men like her own older brother, who had sold his two sisters for wealth and glory, brought back the family matters she thought she had forgotten. Han Gye-ran pounded her chest as if trying to expel the pent-up frustration.
“G-Grand Empress Dowager! Please take care of your health!”
“Hoo… I have shown you an unsightly display in front of the Empress Dowager.”
“Do not worry. I too will spare no effort in advising His Majesty alongside you.”
The two great elders of the imperial family joined hands, sharing warmth and resolve. No matter how senior she was, the true head of both the inner and outer courts was the Empress. However, the current Empress, Lady Wang, lived in constant fear after witnessing how Consort Man had deposed the previous Empress. As a result, Consort Man’s influence now dominated both the inner and outer palaces. Until now, Empress Dowager Joo Tae-hoo had managed to maintain a precarious balance, but with the creation of the West Depot, the scales were clearly tipping toward Consort Man.
“Empress Dowager…”
As the two women strengthened their resolve through silent understanding, the door suddenly burst open and a bright, clear voice rang out.
“Grandmother~ I’m here!”
In the strictly regulated imperial palace, there was only one person who could enter the residence of Han Gye-ran—one of the imperial family’s most senior figures—with such casual freedom. She was the sole princess among the previous Emperor’s daughters who had not left the palace through marriage. Princess Gasang, Ju I-hyang, was that very girl.
Seeing someone else sitting in the seat of honor where her grandmother should have been, Ju I-hyang’s already large eyes widened even further. She quickly bowed her head.
“O-oh! E-Empress Dowager!”
She hadn’t heard that the Empress Dowager was visiting!
The thought “I’m in trouble—” was written so plainly across her face that it was almost comical. It was an expression utterly unsuited to the cutthroat politics of the inner court.
“I-hyang, I clearly told you to always observe proper etiquette and announce yourself before entering. Empress Dowager, please forgive this old woman’s fault for spoiling the child.”
“N-not at all, Grand Empress Dowager. Princess Gasang is like a daughter to me. How could I possibly rebuke you? Besides, I feel the same way.”
The reason Ju I-hyang had not known the Empress Dowager was visiting had nothing to do with her occasionally scatterbrained nature. …Well, that wasn’t entirely absent, but the main reason was that the Empress Dowager had come secretly to avoid Consort Man’s watchful eyes.
The potentially awkward atmosphere was quickly dispelled by Empress Dowager Joo Tae-hoo’s generosity and Ju I-hyang’s natural charm. Though they were all people of extremely high status, Ju I-hyang slipped between them with an “Ehehe” laugh and naturally joined the conversation.
“By the way, what were you two talking about?”
Before they could answer, Ju I-hyang spread both hands wide as if to stop them and spoke rapidly.
“Ah! Let me guess! Umm… is it about my marriage? Right? Right?”
At her lighthearted words, both Han Gye-ran and Empress Dowager Joo Tae-hoo’s expressions shifted ever so slightly. Noticing this, Ju I-hyang grew even more excited and leaned in close.
Han Gye-ran gently but firmly pushed her clinging granddaughter away and said,
“Yes, yes. That’s correct.”
“I knew it! It’s that person Grandmother mentioned last time, right? The one whose marriage talks with Hwang Hong-jin were suddenly canceled when Grandmother said someone else would be better!”
Ju I-hyang was nearly twenty. It was rare for a princess to remain in the palace past that age, so marriage discussions were only natural. The man originally considered for her had been Hwang Yong, but right after the Beijing Rebellion, Han Gye-ran had abruptly canceled the arrangement. Ju I-hyang had been watching the situation with a mix of anticipation and fear, thinking she would finally leave the palace through marriage. She had been utterly confused by the sudden change.
“That’s right.”
“Am I really getting married this time?”
“Well, the thing is…”
Feeling guilty toward her granddaughter, Han Gye-ran subtly avoided those bright, sparkling eyes. She had overturned a perfectly good marriage arrangement by saying she had found a better match, only for it to fall through. How was that any different from sabotaging her own granddaughter’s marriage? Unable to admit that she couldn’t even mention the prospective groom’s name, Han Gye-ran gave a very roundabout answer.
“A matter as important as a princess’s marriage cannot be decided so easily. We are currently in discussions with the high ministers. Once things progress further, I will inform you immediately.”
“Hehe, okay~”
Having watched all her older sisters leave to join their husbands, Ju I-hyang had felt both lonely and envious. Although the Forbidden City was a small world unto itself, living only within the palace walls could sometimes feel suffocating. Leaving through marriage would tie her to her husband’s family, but it would still grant her far more freedom than she had now. No matter how strict a family’s rules for women might be, Ju I-hyang was an imperial princess. No clan would dare mistreat her by invoking household regulations. Moreover, according to what she had heard from her grandmother, the prospective groom’s family background was not particularly prestigious, so there was no need to worry about that.
Since she didn’t need to concern herself with his family’s status, Ju I-hyang was far more interested in the man himself.
“But is he really that strong? Stronger than Grandmother?”
“Yes. Stronger than me, without question.”
“Wow… Then is he stronger than Uncle Gwak Dan?”
“I’m not sure about that. I suspect the Marquis of Gangyong was stronger.”
“He’s not some middle-aged man in his forties or fifties like Uncle Gwak, right?”
“Would this old woman send you off to marry someone like that? He hasn’t even reached thirty yet.”
“Heeeh… He’s that strong at that age?”
Ju I-hyang had quite a deep interest and understanding of martial arts. It was only natural, considering the imperial elder she respected most was known as the Haedongmubi, the Matchless Martial Artist of the East Sea. To her, the idea of a supreme expert in his twenties who surpassed even her grandmother sounded like something out of the wild rumors of the Murim world. Empress Dowager Joo Tae-hoo also listened attentively, ears perked, to stories about Namgung Woo—the man who might become her stepdaughter’s husband.
If Ju I-hyang was deeply interested in him as a potential lifelong partner, Empress Dowager Joo Tae-hoo was equally invested in him as the next commander of the Jinyiwei, someone who could check Consort Man and firmly support the imperial family.
After that peaceful conversation about Namgung Woo came to an end, several days later Han Gye-ran received word from the matchmaker she had sent to the Hebei Paeng family. Upon hearing that Namgung Woo had already left with the Paeng family head’s eldest daughter aboard a canal boat, she clutched the back of her neck in shock.
“What? He left on the canal with the Paeng family head’s eldest daughter? Those Hebei Paeng bastards have already made their move!”