Hello, I Am Hwang Bong-bong
The following morning, I awoke with puffy, swollen eyes to find a monumental duty awaiting me.
It was time to pay my formal morning respects to the mistress of Chwiseondang herself: Royal Noble Consort Jang Hui-bin.
My stomach churned with nervous tension.
How do I get on her good side? What should my very first words be?
Above all else, what if she was truly the terrifying villain history had painted her to be?
Torn by endless anxieties, I trotted on my stubby little legs toward Hui-bin’s bedchamber, only to be halted squarely at the threshold.
“She gave orders that no one is to enter today. Her Ladyship is indisposed.”
“……Yeth.”
Turned away at the door.
Fathoming Hui-bin’s true temperament was my highest priority, but there was nothing I could do about a locked door. In the end, I had to postpone that mission and move on to my next assignment.
My second task of the day was another round of greetings: introducing myself to all the court maids of Chwiseondang.
“Hullo. I am Hwam Bong-bong.”
I tucked my tiny hands neatly in front of my navel and bent my waist as close to a ninety-degree angle as my toddler frame allowed. The sheer weight of my enormous head made me wobble dangerously two or three times, but through sheer genius-level balance, I managed not to face-plant onto the wooden floorboards.
“Right. We met yesterday, didn’t we? I’m Suk-yeong.”
“I am Sun-rye. Seol-hyang over there is my younger sister.”
“Hey there, tiny tot. You can call me Chuk-saeng.”
Mercifully, the two child maids from yesterday were nowhere to be seen, and the older Chwiseondang maids were uniformly kind. Even so, my brain was spinning like a runaway waterwheel trying to map each name to a face.
“Haaah……” A pitiful sigh escaped my lips the second the introductions ended.
“You did well. That’s plenty for today.”
Seol-hyang slipped a piece of sweet, honeyed yakgwa into my hand. My blood sugar had been plummeting fast, making the confection an absolute godsend.
“Stay put and rest. Don’t go getting into trouble, understood?”
“Yeth.”
Crouching in front of an empty storeroom, I nibbled tiny mouse-bites out of the yakgwa and savored my first quiet moment alone.
I need to memorize the pecking order of Chwiseondang.
At the apex of this miniature royal universe sat, naturally, Jang Hui-bin. Right below her was Head Court Lady Han, who ruled over the palace women with an iron rod. Beneath her were Court Lady Min and Court Lady Kim, followed by the full-fledged maids: Seol-hyang (my roommate), Suk-yeong (provider of sweets), Sun-rye (practically two meters tall), and Chuk-saeng (the one with the giant potato face)……
And where did that leave me? An aegi-nain. A toddler court maid.
Sure, technically my rank was higher than the palace water maids or common slave girls, but what good was that when I was barely out of diapers? In the real, day-to-day power dynamics of Chwiseondang, I was scraping the absolute bottom of the barrel.
“……When am I ever gonna grow up?”
The weary complaint slipped out before I could catch myself.
“You will grow up soon enough.”
A crisp, gentle boy’s voice answered from right above me.
“Yesterday was the onset of spring, which means……”
Inside the royal bedchamber of Chwiseondang, a woman leaned against an embroidered floor cushion, counting slowly on her slender, jade-white fingers.
Hui-bin was counting the days.
Was His Majesty’s last visit before the first snowfall?
No, it had been far longer than that. Perhaps October, when the crimson maple leaves tumbled from their branches like discarded vows.
Ever since he raised the ranks of Consort Choe and Consort Bak, he has not set foot in Chwiseondang once.
A sudden, violent flutter seized her chest. Her throat tightened, and breathing became a desperate struggle. Only after several long, measured breaths did the suffocating panic loosen its grip.
“Ah……”
Dragging a hand over her pale face, Hui-bin reached down and opened the lacquered dressing box beside her. She stared into the bronze mirror, scrutinizing her own reflection as if observing a stranger.
“How strange.”
It had been twenty years since she fell into that fiery, all-consuming love with the supreme sovereign of Joseon. Twenty years was an eternity.
No blossom stays red for ten days, people whispered behind their hands. Yet to their dismay, her beauty had refused to wither. It was almost unnatural. While she was no longer the fresh girl of twenty, her breathtaking allure remained untouched, a radiant grace that no woman in the entire palace dared to challenge.
“My face has remained unchanged through the flowing years……” The reflection whispered back to her. “So why, then, has your heart changed?”
If the human heart was fated to turn, should both not have changed together? Why was it that only one heart had wandered away while the other remained hopelessly bound?
Even amid her bitter thoughts, Hui-bin’s hand searched the compartments of the cosmetic case and drew out a pot of crimson rouge. He might come today. The faintest possibility was enough. Taking a small brush, she carefully tinted her dry, pale lips a vibrant scarlet.
“Hui-bin-jaga. It is Court Lady Han. May I enter?”
Hui-bin paused with the rouge brush and looked toward the door. “Come in.”
Court Lady Han slid the door open, entered, and knelt respectfully before stating her business. “A message has arrived from Suk-jeong at the lord’s estate. She sends word that she will enter the palace tomorrow at midday.”
“Suk-jeong? Ah. I was just wondering how things fared. That is splendid news.”
For the first time in days, color returned to Hui-bin’s features.
“Is this regarding the ritual, Your Ladyship?”
Hui-bin nodded at Court Lady Han’s inquiry. “Indeed. Was it not thanks to her previous prayers that the Crown Prince recovered from his illness? Between my chronic chest ailment and the arrival of spring, I intend to entrust her with a blessing ritual.”
“Yes. The moment the rite was completed, His Royal Highness rose from his sickbed as if he had never been ill. Even I was astonished.”
“Of course. Suk-jeong is trustworthy. She is my elder brother’s sole concubine and his most devoted right hand.”
“Understood, Your Ladyship. I shall prepare tea and confections in advance of her arrival.”
“See that you do.”
As Court Lady Han withdrew from the chamber, Hui-bin turned her gaze back to the polished mirror. Last time, Suk-jeong swore she would find a secret remedy to win back His Majesty’s favor.
The tide of rising hope washed away her lingering unease, smoothing the tightness in her chest. Slowly, her scarlet-painted lips curved into a confident smile.
If his heart had turned, she would simply make it turn back. For from the very beginning, that heart had belonged to no one else but Jang Ok-jeong.
“You will grow up soon enough.”
Holy crap!
Startled nearly out of my skin, I sprang to my feet like a startled meerkat.
Standing barely two paces away was a boy who looked about twelve or thirteen.
Wait, no way. Am I seeing that outfit in real life right now?!
I choked back a gasp before it could escape my mouth. Deep navy robes adorned with four-clawed golden dragon emblems over his chest and shoulders, topped with the tall winged crown of royalty. In the entire realm of Joseon, there was precisely one person permitted to wear that attire.
Which meant this boy had to be……
The eldest son born between King Sukjong and Jang Hui-bin. Crown Prince Lee Yun.
The tragic figure who would one day ascend the throne as King Gyeongjong.
Deep breaths. Don’t panic.
My historian brain kicked into high gear. Based on historical records, Lee Yun’s personality leaned toward gentle and remarkably accommodating. In this very palace, there were two notorious hotheads whose explosive tempers were discussed for centuries—namely, his father Sukjong and his future half-brother Yeongjo. Compared to them, Lee Yun was practically a saint.
“Greetings, Your Royal Highness the Crown Prince.”
I bent my clumsy toddler waist in the deepest bow my balance could muster. When you’re an orphaned court maid at the bottom of the food chain, scoring brownie points with the Crown Prince is never a bad strategy.
“So you are the new child maid assigned to my mother’s quarters,” the Crown Prince remarked, studying me with a soft, understanding nod. “Though you truly are tiny…… Is that why you were wishing to grow so quickly?”
He clearly saw me as nothing more than a harmless, adorable little kid. In that case, it was my sacred duty to live up to his expectations.
“Yeth, Your Highnith. That is why. I was waiting for my legs to get longer.”
I made a big show of stretching my stubby arms and legs, emphasizing just how exhausting it was to navigate the palace in such an underpowered chassis. A soft chuckle slipped past the prince’s lips.
“It would be wonderful if all things came to pass the moment we wished for them, but as the old adage goes, the more urgent the matter, the wider the detour one must take. Sometimes, quiet patience is what is truly required.”
“And how many years am I supposed to wait?”
My cynical graduate-student soul betrayed me, and the question slipped out unfiltered.
“Shall I teach you a good secret, then?”
“Yeth. Please teach me, Your Highnith.”
“Eat your meals well, sleep soundly, run around and play energetically……”
“Haaah.”
Please spare me the ancient equivalent of ‘just study your textbooks thoroughly and get a perfect score on the entrance exams.’
Hearing my world-weary sigh, the Crown Prince let out a quiet, melodic laugh.
He really doesn’t look any different from his historical portraits, I thought, recalling the records I had studied back in grad school.
History remembered Lee Yun as generous to a fault, or perhaps painfully indecisive depending on who wrote the record. Though blessed with the defined features inherited from his famously beautiful mother, his aura lacked her piercing intensity, leaning instead toward the serene grace of a refined scholar. And what caught my eye more than anything else was the faint shadow of sorrow lingering in his droopy, gentle eyes.
He became king, only to die after four short years.
A tragic man whose entire life had been shadowed by the trauma of his mother’s execution. Standing face-to-face with a figure who had previously existed only as dry text in historical annals set my history-nerd curiosity ablaze.
“Why are you staring at me so intently?”
“Ah, th-that is……”
A violent inner civil war erupted inside my skull: the hardcore historical researcher in me versus the lowest-ranking child maid just trying to survive.
Should I ask? Should I not? Could I really ask him right now……?
“Your Highness Crown Prince. By any chance…… do you happen to like persimmons or marinated crab?”
……Ah, to hell with it.