Persimmons and Crab Are Strictly Forbidden
Whiz!
A smooth pebble fired from my slingshot sliced cleanly through the crisp, early-winter air.
Direct hit!
An instant later, a plump, dead-ripe persimmon dangling from the topmost branch went tumbling down and slapped the ground with a resounding, squelching splat.
“Yes!”
I pumped my tiny fist into the air, practically glowing with triumph.
Honestly, I had every right to be proud. I was, after all, trapped inside the body of a mere four-year-old child.
“Haaah...”
Yet that fleeting burst of satisfaction evaporated almost as quickly as it had arrived.
Here I was, forced to scurry around on stubby little toddler legs. A sudden, crushing wave of existential dread washed over me.
It had already been six months since I, formerly a twenty-four-year-old graduate student majoring in Joseon history, had opened my eyes in this tiny body.
If you're going to reincarnate someone inside a Joseon royal palace, shouldn't you at least make them a royal princess or something?
Letting out a heavy sigh, I looked down at my clothes—an outfit that completely spat in the face of standard transmigration tropes.
A jade-green jeogori far too loose and baggy for my small frame was paired with a plain navy skirt. And stitched neatly onto the ends of my sleeves were bands of bright crimson cloth—the kkeutdong.
Red cuffs were the unmistakable, indelible badge of a Joseon palace woman.
In short, it meant I was an aegi-nain—a toddler court maid indentured to lifelong palace servitude.
It's unfair enough that I got reincarnated as an ordinary court maid, but did they really have to turn this into a hardcore survival game on top of it?
Cruel. Absolutely ruthless.
Grumbling under my breath, I clutched my slingshot—my sole weapon and lifeline in this place—tightly against my chest.
“One, two, three, four...”
After carefully tallying up the burst persimmons splattered across the dirt, I surveyed the surrounding branches. Not a single orange orb remained in the canopy. Every last persimmon had been neutralized.
All thanks to my peerless slingshot marksmanship, naturally.
“Dis part is all done. Now, if I just go take care of da trees in the Huwon...”
“Are you running around hunting down those blasted persimmons again?”
“Eek!”
Startled by the sudden voice behind me, I jumped nearly out of my skin and whirled around.
Standing before me was a boy clad in a deep navy-blue robe. Embroidered magnificently across his chest in gleaming gold thread was the four-clawed dragon insignia.
Which meant this august personage was none other than...
“Crown Prince.”
“Yes, it is I.”
The Crown Prince looked down at me and offered a warm, gentle smile.
He was thirteen years old this year, though he was notably tall and well-built for his age. On top of that, he wore a tall winged crown atop his head. Because of his height, pint-sized little me had to crane my neck all the way back just to meet his eyes.
“Why must you knock down every persimmon you lay your eyes upon? You ought to leave a few for the mountain birds and magpies to feast on.”
“I don't wanna.”
“And why not?”
“Because persimmons are dangewous! How many times do I have to say it?”
“Did you hold some past grudge against persimmons? No matter how I look at you, you are a truly bizarre child.”
The Crown Prince chided me softly as he looked down at my stance. I stood there with my slingshot clutched in one hand, my arms crossed defiantly over my chest. Even as he spoke, I strained every facial muscle trying to project the most grave, solemn expression a four-year-old could muster.
Evidently finding my desperate glare hilarious, the Crown Prince let out a quiet chuckle.
I'm not the one holding a grudge against persimmons—you are!
Years from now, this boy would ascend the throne only to be branded in history as the tragic king who died of gastric collapse after eating persimmons and marinated crab. And here I was, running myself ragged on these tiny legs just to prevent that historical catastrophe!
And he was standing there laughing at me?
“Crown Prince, what did you have to eat today?”
“Hmm... let me see. For the noon meal, I had warm noodles. Sliced boiled pork was served as well, and soy-marinated crab...”
“Gasp! M-Mawinated c-crab...?!”
Seeing my jaw drop and the color completely drain from my face, the Crown Prince hurriedly raised his hands in defense.
“I didn't eat it! I didn't touch a bite! Knowing how you despise persimmons and crab with every fiber of your little being, I did not touch a single claw even though it was placed upon my table.”
“Phew...”
Letting out a drawn-out sigh of relief, I adopted the sternest tone my toddler vocal cords could manage.
“Crown Prince. I am being vewy, vewy sewious right now.”
“You mean I must not even spare a glance at persimmons or crab?”
“Yes! You must never, ever eat dem! Promise me, promise...”
“Goodness, I understand. I understand. I swear upon my honor that I shall never touch persimmon or marinated crab.”
“Pinky pwomise?”
“Yes, yes. A promise.”
Just as the Crown Prince and I were hooking our pinkies together in solemn, secret pact—
“Little one! There you are! I have been searching high and—aigoo, Crown Prince!”
A royal eunuch came dashing into the courtyard in a great, frantic rustle, skidding to a halt before bowing low toward the Crown Prince.
“Eunuch Park, what brings you here in such haste?”
“Yes, Your Highness. An urgent summons has come from Daejeon...”
“From Royal Father? But I offered my morning greetings only a short while ago. Why would he...”
The Crown Prince's expression shadowed with apprehension. Yet who in this kingdom dared disobey a command from the sovereign ruler? Catching his breath, the Crown Prince lowered his chin with a sigh of quiet resignation.
“Understood. Lead the way, Eunuch Park.”
“Ah... Crown Prince. The matter is...”
Eunuch Park fidgeted awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in palpable embarrassment.
“What is the matter?”
“I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness, but... it is not you whom His Majesty has summoned...”
Eunuch Park's eyes slowly slid to the side.
Directly toward me.
“Me?”
Having stealthily tucked my slingshot behind my back, I blinked innocently at the eunuch.
“Yes, little one. His Majesty is looking for you.”
“Ah, again? Why?”
“...How could a lowly servant like me possibly know? Come now, let us be on our way, little one.”
“I'll go since His Majesty said so, but I am not a 'little one.'”
I detested being called 'little one.' I might be trapped in a child's body, but the mind inside belonged to an educated adult woman.
“Ah... but His Majesty always refers to you as 'the little one,' so the habit has stuck to my tongue as well.”
Despite the eunuch's hurried excuses, my lower lip jutted out like a duck's bill, and my cheeks puffed out into round dumplings. It wasn't as though I wanted to act like a spoiled brat. But what could I do? In the body of a four-year-old, the moment I felt the slightest irritation, these infantile physical reflexes fired off completely on autopilot.
Watching me sulk, the flustered eunuch hastily tried to jog his memory.
“What was... your name again? Hwang... Hwang something, wasn't it?”
This eunuch has terrible memory. Honestly, my name is so absurdly cute it should be impossible to forget.
I puffed out my chest and declared my identity with all my might.
“Hwam-bom-bo!”
...Total failure. For the clumsy tongue of a four-year-old, that was remarkably hard to enunciate.
“Hwang! Bong! Bong!”
I hammered out each syllable as slowly and deliberately as humanly possible.
“Ah, that's right! Hwang Bong-bong. That was your name. Very well, Bong-bong. Let us hurry to Daejeon.”
“Yes, I hear you.”
Well, if the King of Joseon was calling for me, what choice did I have? When he summons, you come; when he dismisses, you scurry away. Such was the life of a palace underling.
I glanced back at the Crown Prince. For some reason, an expression of profound relief had settled over his handsome features.
“Crown Prince, I'll be going now.”
“Yes, Bong-bong. Until we meet—”
At that exact second, a chill gust of wind swept through the courtyard, bringing with it the crisp rustle of silk and hurried footsteps. The grand swish of skirts was so pronounced that my head snapped toward the path before I could stop myself.
“Whoa...”
This time, what slipped from my lips was not a weary sigh, but an involuntary gasp of sheer awe.
My gaze locked onto the woman striding at the very vanguard of a retinue of court ladies, draped in radiant, sumptuous silk.
You would think I'd be used to it by now, but every single time I see her, it knocks the breath clean out of my lungs.
A peerless, dazzling beauty that defied mortal comprehension. A woman so breathtakingly gorgeous that even the most splendid blossom in full bloom would wither in shame before her.
Jang Hui-bin.
Staring at that magnificent countenance—a level of beauty I had never once encountered in either of my two lifetimes—a fleeting thought crossed my mind.
No wonder future generations still regard Jang Hui-bin as the undisputed synonym for fatal feminine charm.
Just then—
“Huh?”
Having closed the distance in a few swift strides, Lady Jang reached down and snatched my wrist.
It wasn't rough enough to hurt, but it was an unmistakably iron grip.
“Hui-bin-jaga...?”
“Indeed, Bong-bong. Come, we are returning to Chwiseondang.”
Without pausing for even a beat, Lady Jang spun on her heel and began hauling me along. The momentum was far too overwhelming for a toddler to resist, forcing my stubby legs to patter furiously against the flagstones just to keep from being dragged face-first.
Pale with panic, Eunuch Park squeaked out in desperation.
“Jaga! Hui-bin-jaga! I beg your forgiveness, but Bong-bong must proceed to Daejeon at once! His Majesty has urgently requested her presence—”
“Eunuch Park.”
Jang Hui-bin turned her head.
A smile blossomed across her flawless features, brilliant and bewitching as a crimson peony in full bloom.
“Deliver my words to His Majesty.”
“W-What shall I say...?”
“Tell him that if he has business with Bong-bong...”
Beneath that radiant smile capable of stealing a man's very soul, a chilling, venomous sneer flashed across her eyes.
“...he may grace Chwiseondang with his royal presence.”
“...”
“Bong-bong is strictly a child maid of my household. I am taking her with me.”
Towed along in Lady Jang's wake, my tiny feet scrambling desperately across the palace stone, a cloud of dread wholly unsuited for a four-year-old child shadowed my face.
Please, let this all just be a nightmare...
Swallowing down the wail that threatened to bubble up from my throat, I prayed in silent misery.
If only I could wake up from a deep sleep and find myself back at my desk, an exhausted South Korean graduate student complaining about her thesis.
Yet over the past few months since waking up in this pint-sized body, I had cried out to the Buddha, Jesus, Dangun the progenitor, and finally even my dissertation advisor. None of them had answered.
In the end, I had no choice but to swallow the cold, hard reality.
My name was Hwang Bong-bong.
My age: four years old.
My rank: aegi-nain, child court maid.
My assigned quarters: Chwiseondang.
And the era into which I had been cast was the calm before the tempest—the eve of an imminent bloodbath that would claim the lives of countless souls, chief among them the woman currently dragging me by the wrist: Jang Hui-bin.
Which meant...
If I don't change the course of history, the only thing waiting for everyone in this palace is total devastation.
Therefore...
I have to prevent Jang Hui-bin's death at all costs if I want to survive!
Under the cover of night, the King handed down a confidential royal instruction:
"The treasonous crimes of Consort Jang Hui-bin have been laid bare before all under heaven."
"Therefore, Consort Jang Hui-bin is hereby ordered to take her own life."