Chapter 2
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Your Highness the Crown Prince, You Must Prepare for Duty Deployment
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Right after the emperor's decree came down, I was carted off to the East Palace like so much luggage.
The East Palace—the residence of the crown prince, and the place that confirmed I was now the crown prince.
I'd wondered if it was a nice setup, so I inspected it carefully. My verdict in a word: peak inefficiency.
The rooms were needlessly huge, meaning heating costs would be a nightmare. The bathrooms were a long trek down the hall. And that was just the start of the wasted circulation everywhere.
Worst of all, it took dozens of people just to keep the place running.
And all that would get charged to my payroll and upkeep budget. Every time I thought about running away, those costs would haunt me. If I bolted, would the emperor tack on insubordination charges just thinking about the expense?
"Jui-an! Oh, Jui-an! We're all doomed now!"
Before I could even settle into my new home, a malignant complainer showed up. My roommate, too.
My biological mother, Consort Jo.
Her face drained of color, she clutched my pant leg and sobbed.
"Crown prince! You, the crown prince! We're public enemies now! We'll be poisoned by morning! Waaah!"
Classic panic-type complainer. In my past life working the complaints desk, I'd dealt with countless folks wailing about their houses collapsing. When they got like this, half-hearted comfort fell flat. What worked was professional authority and a solid physical fix.
"Someone! Fetch the imperial physician. Hm, yes—bring the director of the Imperial Medical Bureau, if you please."
At my words, a waiting eunuch bolted out like an arrow. Moments later.
"Your Highness the Crown Prince! The director of the Imperial Medical Bureau has arrived!"
A white-haired elder came panting in. The emperor's personal physician and the pinnacle of medical skill himself—the director. He slammed his forehead to the floor the instant he entered.
"Your Highness! Is there anywhere Your Highness feels unwell? This humble servant has committed a grave sin!"
Becoming crown prince had even this man bowing low. The power of authority. But I hadn't called him to gawk at that.
"No. My mother is showing signs of nervous exhaustion. Give her some special Tranquil Heart Pills. The strongest ones His Majesty takes, if possible."
"Yes, sir! As you command! My lady, if I may!"
The director whipped out a gleaming golden pill, and his assistant physicians charged in with acupuncture needles. Mother's eyes went wide as saucers.
"Wha—gasp! The director?! The one who only treats His Majesty—why to me...!"
"By direct order of His Highness the Crown Prince! My lady, let me take your pulse first! And an acupuncture treatment!"
"N-no! I'm fine... Mmph!"
Mother popped the pill into her open mouth on reflex, then had her arms seized for forced pulse-taking.
A woman fretting over poison, now surrounded by the emperor's own doctors getting the VIP treatment—it was so absurd she had no choice but to quiet down. Before the medicine even kicked in, her soul seemed to flee, leaving her dazed.
Complaint handled. Next person, come on in.
I took a satisfied sip of tea. But my brief respite ended there.
Bam!
My inner thought must've jinxed it. The East Palace's heavy doors flew open from a single kick.
"Out of my way! Today, I'm fixing this insolent brat's manners!"
Uninvited guests with no appointment burst in. My third brother, his brain seemingly packed with muscle, and behind him, my second brother fanning himself like some monk.
"You, the crown prince? A diaper-shitter like you dares?!"
Third brother stormed up, snarling, and slammed his fist on my desk.
Crack.
The purple sandalwood corner—imported special from the Southern Barbarian Palace—split with a scream.
I set down my teacup and eyed the damaged desk. Expensive stuff. Thinking of the cost, my gaze turned icy despite myself. I slowly drew a ledger from my sleeve.
"Brother. That's a special purple sandalwood import from the Southern Barbarian Palace. Book value around 500 taels. You know damaging imperial property means triple compensation by law, right?"
"It's not about money! It's you leaping over your brothers to become crown prince!"
"1,500 taels. With your monthly dignity allowance at 300, that's five months unpaid. I'll have the tax office deduct it in advance."
"Y-you little shit, talking money to your brother...!"
Third brother raised his fist again, but the number must've sunk in. His body froze mid-motion. Five months without pay? Brutal. Capitalism's rod outscares martial arts any day.
Then second brother stepped forward, folding his fan.
"Jui-an. Third brother is upset, yes, but your enfeoffment defies propriety. Don't you know seniority rules? With elders above you, the youngest as crown prince? That's heaven's wrath."
Acting all dignified, but it boiled down to "quit voluntarily" threats. Hey, I'd love to. Why don't you say that to His Majesty's face?
As his mouth opened and closed, I sighed inwardly. Couldn't say it outright, though.
I shot back at the brother venting on the wrong target.
"Seniority? Brother, you love Confucian classics, right? By that logic, the crown prince spot should've gone to eldest brother, not you, no?"
"...!"
Dawning realization on his face. But I wasn't done.
"So why are you mad? If I step down, will you serve eldest brother? Or..."
I narrowed my eyes at third brother.
"Did you want to shove past eldest brother for it yourself? Isn't that ambition defying Confucian propriety? You're the ones breaking seniority, not me."
Third brother's face flushed purple. Second brother gaped speechlessly.
Eldest brother was frail and recuperating, but by legitimacy, he had the strongest claim. Ousting me would've just made them traitors in a legitimacy fight.
"Y-you... all talk...!"
"And one more thing. Questioning His Majesty's decree is disloyalty."
The prior stuff? Excusable, maybe. But this was the real issue.
"Second brother, mind if I report your words to His Majesty for the annals? 'Second Prince criticizes His Majesty's judgment as flawed'?"
"Y-you mad bastard! Who said that?!"
Second brother's face went sheet-white. Emperor Juwon yanked out tongues—even his sons'—for challenging his authority. No prince was ignorant of that.
As my brothers floundered, a thunderous roar exploded from outside.
"Who dares cause a ruckus?!"
The air itself seemed to tear. My brothers whipped around in terror. I looked too, startled.
Two elders stood at the door, fiercer than any executioner.
One was a hulking old man reeking of bloodlust—former Gold Army Commander General Ma Cheolsan.
The other, a gaunt elder with sternness etched like wrinkles—former Chief State Tribunals Minister Gwak Jeong-eon.
I knew them by reputation. The empire's top warrior and top inspector. Both retired now.
Retired, so they shouldn't meddle, right? These were the emperor's legendary hounds, the ones who'd led his wildest schemes.
Age had forced retirement, but their authority didn't vanish.
"G-Gold Army Commander? Chief Tribunals elder?"
"This is His Highness the Crown Prince's office! Forgetting royal dignity and acting like street thugs? Get out!"
The Chief Tribunals' icy rebuke made my brothers stagger like their legs had given out.
They weren't mere tutors. This was the emperor sending a clear signal: I'm behind him.
"J-just you wait!"
My brothers tucked tail and fled. Quite the sight, scampering off. It soothed my gut nicely.
I clicked my tongue at their retreating backs.
Troublemaker complainers expelled. Next time, take a number.
But as the saying goes, over one mountain lies another.
The two elders approached, bowing deeply.
"Your Highness the Crown Prince! We are honored to serve and assist you by His Majesty's command!"
Their gazes were overwhelmingly intense.
What had my biological father told them? It was the look of rabid fans meeting an idol—no, fanatic loyalty mixed with conviction in the empire's future.
Seeing that, one thought hit me. These weren't complainers I could handle.
"Y-yes... You've had a long journey. But what's that in your hand?"
The Chief Tribunals drew a long scroll from his sleeve.
"His Majesty personally approved this crown prince education schedule. We've filled it with what suits Your Highness best after much discussion."
Ominous. An eerie aura wafted from the ordinary scroll.
My long-dormant salaryman instincts screamed warnings. Don't look. Like it held weekend shifts or mandatory hikes.
Mind my manners first—I accepted the scroll with a polite bow.
Then, suppressing dread, I read it slowly.
Tiger Hour (3 a.m.): Rise and wash
Tiger to Rabbit Hour (3-5 a.m.): Morning greetings and prepare for court assembly
Rabbit to Dragon Hour (5-7 a.m.): Attend court assembly
Dragon to Snake Hour (7-9 a.m.): Breakfast (one gak, 15 minutes) and one-on-one with His Majesty (state affairs training)
Snake to Horse Hour (9 a.m.-1 p.m.): Chief Tribunals-led advanced administration/law studies
Horse to Goat Hour (1-3 p.m.): Gold Army Commander-led basic fitness and internal energy training
... (excerpted) ...
Pig Hour (9-11 p.m.): Evening self-study and daily report writing
Rat Hour (11 p.m.): Bed
I rubbed my eyes, blinked hard, and read again. No change.
"..."
Washed my eyes and checked—no "rest" anywhere. Meals were 15 minutes.
Nap time? The text screamed luxury.
This wasn't labor law violation. It was a slave regimen.
"Um, Chief Tribunals elder? This schedule... livable for humans? Any mistakes?"
"Of course not!"
As if he'd err, he explained kindly.
"His Majesty endured worse before ascending. He says Your Highness has equal talent, so this much is needed to hone it."
The elders' eyes sparkled. No malice—just loyalty so fierce it'd vaporized common sense. Ah. Drove off the brothers, got worse ones instead.
"Your Highness, come! Let's start now. First lesson: imperial laws and etiquette."
The Chief Tribunals handed over a book. He'd brought a whipping boy too—work hard, he said. My vision blurred faintly.
The Gold Army Commander chuckled with his guards behind, plotting training. Heh heh. I could only muster a hollow laugh.
Reality won. I slid to the floor. The ornate East Palace ceiling spun.
Ah, Mother. Is this how it felt? I've been unfilial. No wonder you were shocked.
My damn father didn't gift power. This was an express ticket to death by overwork.
Second life, peace shattered—now worrying if I'd earn minimum wage. No, my life itself was minimum wage, headed for early grave.
Someone laid me beside Mother on the bed. Who? Didn't care. Eunuch, probably.
They were leaving. Whatever. Everything sucked. Just wanted to zone out.
Then.
"Gone?"
A cool, composed voice from beside me. I jolted upright.
Consort Jo—who'd been drugged unconscious moments ago—sat bolt upright on the bed. Her hand smoothed her disheveled hair with elegant grace.
"M-Mother? You okay?"
"Shh. Keep it down. Walls have ears."
She checked the door, then beckoned me close.
Her eyes now gleamed sharp—no trace of earlier terror. The cold, cunning gaze of a survivor from the emperor's bedchamber.
"Jui-an. Listen well."
She took my hand, twisted her hair pin's tip. A tiny paper bundle emerged from inside, scribbled with minuscule text.
"What's... this?"
"Weaknesses of the palace eunuchs and ladies-in-waiting. And bribe price list."
"...Pardon?"
I doubted my ears.
Weaknesses, fine. Bribe rates? How did Mother have this?
Seeing my shock, she gripped my shoulders, snapping me to attention.
"How do you think I caught the eye of the tyrant called heaven's scourge? My pretty face? Hardly."
She flashed a sly smile.
"The emperor is suspicious and profit-driven. I scratched his itches, played dumb when needed, and climbed here."
Maybe all I'd seen of Mother before was what she showed her son.
"Faking that faint? All calculated. Gives you the image of a filial crown prince—easier to handle those old coots."
Chills ran down my spine. The frenzy, sobs, collapse—all staged?
Ehh, partially true, maybe.
Anyway, she continued.
"General Ma's simple—praise his strength. Minister Gwak values legitimacy—just feign respect. But..."
She caressed my cheek, whispering the key lesson.
"The emperor's different. Never lie to him. He cuts out lying tongues first. Better show ambition. He likes capable greed."
"..."
"I can't give much, but I trust you'll use this well. Study it, handle firmly."
It wasn't mere paper. It was Mother's survival manual for this cutthroat palace.
She lay back on the pillow, instantly reverting to "frail consort."
"Oof... my head... such a fate..."
I stood dazed, staring at the pin and paper. A hollow laugh escaped.
Ah... Thought only Father was the monster.
I finally realized: everyone surviving the palace had a hidden edge.
I tucked the paper into the pin securely, then deep in my bosom.
She's gone this far. Gotta make it work.
Hellish schedule, monster tutors—I'd satisfy them somehow.
With love this great from Mother, not reciprocating would be improper.