Chapter 30
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: I'll Gouge Out Your Eyeballs
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A few days later,
After finishing lunch while receiving oral service from his maid Sohee, Cheonwi straightened his clothes and gazed out the window.
The sky was clear, but the wind carried a biting edge.
"Get rid of the dogs, and now the wolves come swarming in."
Cheonwi muttered under his breath. Around his neck hung something utterly out of place—a pink scarf that looked like a lumpy ball of yarn, crudely stitched with clumsy needlework. It was a gift from Snowflower Princess, who had stayed up all night knitting it with her delicate hands.
For Cheonwi, the Vice Chief Eunuch of the Inner Palace and the shadowy ruler of the dark underworld, it was the epitome of a mismatch, a cute accessory that clashed completely. Yet he feigned a satisfied expression and tightened the scarf once more.
"This is 'gap moe' in action."
He flashed a grin and stepped out the door. An ominous energy was rising from the imperial training grounds. It wasn't the crude aura of ordinary soldiers. It was a razor-sharp edge that cut like knives through flesh, coupled with a heavy pressure that squeezed the breath from one's lungs.
The Murim Alliance.
A martial force united under the banner of upholding order in the jianghu, so powerful even the imperial family dared not trifle with them. They had finally arrived at the palace.
The imperial training ground felt like a sheet of thin ice.
Dozens of murim experts stood in formation at the main gate. Each carried bizarre weapons slung across their backs or at their waists, their eyes gleaming with fierce intensity. The Imperial Guards encircled them, but they already seemed overpowered—the guards' hands trembled faintly.
At the center of that menacing formation stood two figures.
One was a white-haired elder. He stood with hands clasped behind his back, wearing a serene smile, but the air around him hung still as if frozen. It was the current Murim Alliance Leader, Namgung Pae.
And beside him stood a beauty so overwhelming she stole the breath from anyone who beheld her.
Her skin was like white jade, her eyes cold and piercing, her lips a vivid red. Her black hair cascaded to her waist, swaying wildly as if stirred by an invisible wind. A sharp sword aura rose from her entire body like shimmering heat haze.
The Sword Empress, Namgung Soyeon.
The daughter and prized disciple of the current Alliance Leader, she was the heroine renowned across the jianghu not just for her foul temper, but for her unparalleled swordsmanship.
Cheonwi strolled through that perilous aura as casually as if entering his own bedroom. The pink scarf dangling around his neck made him look like a stuffed bunny tossed into a lions' den.
"You've had a long journey—welcome. I am Cheonwi, Vice Chief Eunuch of the Inner Palace."
Cheonwi cupped his hands politely and bowed—not servilely, but with proper respect.
At that moment, Sword Empress Soyeon's eyebrow twitched. She scanned him from head to toe with a gaze laced with contempt, as if eyeing a bug.
"Hmph."
A short snort echoed across the training ground.
"So the palace discipline has rotted through—rumors weren't wrong. A eunuch dares block the Murim Alliance Leader?"
Soyeon’s voice was clear and melodious like jade beads rolling, but her words cut sharper than a dagger. She prodded Cheonwi's shoulder with the scabbard at her waist.
Tap, tap.
It was an outrageously rude gesture. The Imperial Guards bristled and gripped their spears tighter, but Cheonwi raised a hand to hold them back.
"Step aside. You stink."
Soyeon waved her hand in front of her nose. It was blatant provocation, steeped in open disgust and scorn for a man stripped of his manhood.
Cheonwi's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.
'Oh? Well, well.'
An ordinary eunuch might have flushed with shame or lashed out backed by authority. But Cheonwi was different. He decided to savor the moment. After all, wasn't the fun in stroking a haughty cat the wrong way?
Cheonwi beamed and gently nudged the scabbard from his shoulder.
"My, I heard the heroine of the murim has a fiery temper, but this is scorching. Rumors don't do you justice."
"What did you say?"
"No offense taken—it's true, I do carry a bit of a scent."
Cheonwi pretended to sniff himself and stepped closer. Soyeon wrinkled her brow in disgust and tried to back away, but Cheonwi's eerie footwork threw off her sense of distance.
In an instant, his face was inches from her chin.
"Smells like money... and women. Pretty strong, right? The palace is a den of desires, after all. Does the lofty Sword Empress survive on dew alone?"
"Y-You bastard!"
Soyeon's face flushed crimson. A mere eunuch mocking her? Her hand seized the sword hilt. With a sharp shing!, half the blade emerged, unleashing a bone-chilling frost.
"Filthy cur! I'll rip out your tongue!"
"Soyeon, hold yourself."
A heavy basso profundo crushed her killing intent. The white-haired elder, the Alliance Leader, spoke softly but firmly.
"This is the palace. No need to casually behead His Majesty's dog."
His words were polite, but they treated Cheonwi no better than a mutt. Like master, like disciple.
Soyeon bit her lip and roughly sheathed her sword.
"Tch. Consider yourself lucky."
She shoved past Cheonwi with her shoulder. The Leader didn't spare him a glance either, striding away leisurely.
Cheonwi dusted off his shoved shoulder and watched their retreating backs. The smile on his lips deepened.
"Luckier's on your side. If you'd drawn that sword here, the Alliance Leader would've gone home with a corpse instead of a daughter tonight."
A cold glint flickered deep in Cheonwi's eyes, then vanished.
That night, in the imperial banquet hall.
The welcoming feast was lavish, but the atmosphere prickled like sitting on thorns.
Emperor Hyeonjong sat on his jade throne, sweating coldly. Before him, the Alliance Leader and Sword Empress occupied the seats of honor, while the ministers cowered below like frightened mice.
The Alliance experts guzzled wine and bantered loudly, imperial decorum be damned.
"Whew! Palace booze hits different! Nothing like the rotgut back at the Alliance!"
"Hey, you there, minister! Bring more meat over here!"
The Minister of Revenue flinched at the warrior's bellow and personally carried out a platter of meat—a farce of imperial authority crushed by martial might.
Amid the chaos, Sword Empress Soyeon toyed with her wine cup, her gaze fixated obsessively on one man: Cheonwi, standing like a shadow beside the Emperor.
She couldn't forget the humiliation from the training ground—her eyes were carving him up a thousand times over.
"Your Majesty."
Soyeon spoke abruptly. The banquet's clamor hushed in an instant.
"Do you have words for Us, Sword Empress?"
Hyeonjong asked hesitantly.
Soyeon rose and pointed at Cheonwi.
"That eunuch's gaze is utterly offensive."
"...Pardon?"
"His eyes are lecherous and vile. He's surely a sycophant scheming behind Your Majesty's back, corrupting the realm. Allow me to gouge out his eyeballs right now to safeguard Your Majesty."
No sooner had she spoken than she looked ready to kick the table and lunge.
The hall fell silent as if doused in ice water. Ministers gasped, hands over mouths. To threaten to pluck out the eyes of the Emperor's favored confidant—in the middle of a banquet, no less.
Hyeonjong flailed his hands in panic.
"N-No, Sword Empress! Are you intoxicated? Cheonwi is Our loyal servant. Such irreverent words..."
"Loyal? A silver-tongued pig like that? Let me prove it."
Sword aura gathered in Soyeon's hand again. She meant it. The arrogance of murim folk pierced the heavens—they believed even the Emperor bowed to their power.
Then Cheonwi stepped forward.
Far from afraid, he looked at her with concern.
"Lady Sword Empress, you've had too much to drink. My eyes lecherous? I was merely lost in admiration of your beauty."
Soyeon's face twisted further at his brazen reply.
"Shut your filthy mouth!"
"They say a beauty's anger is a sight to behold. But please, don't frown—wrinkles on that brow."
"Y-You...!"
Soyeon exuded murderous intent, ready to strike. But the Leader's cough and the clink of his cup stayed her hand again.
"Soyeon. Restrain yourself. He's a retainer His Majesty cherishes."
The Leader's eyes signaled: Deal with him later.
Soyeon huffed and sat, but her gaze stayed locked on Cheonwi. Her lips mouthed silently.
'I'll kill you.'
Cheonwi read it perfectly. Inside, he cheered.
'Gouge out my eyes? Perfect—you've taken the bait.'
Outwardly, he bowed with a fawning smile, but inwardly, he was scripting a kill list.
'The self-righteous pride of the Murim Alliance? I'll shatter it soon. I'll make that wench sob rivers of tears and snot, begging for mercy from that proud mouth.'
His plan held no mercy.
The palace morning air was crisp and refreshing, but those breathing it harbored varied inner turmoils.
Especially the unwelcome guests strolling the imperial gardens—they looked thoroughly displeased.
"Father."
Namgung Soyeon halted, furrowing her brow. She snapped open an ornate silk fan and fanned her nose vigorously.
"Speak."
"They say half the palace is eunuchs—and it's true. This fishy, musty stench everywhere; I can barely breathe."
Her voice rang out high and sharp, meant to be heard. The guiding eunuchs flinched. It was blatant insult. But against the Sword Empress of the Murim Alliance? Backtalk could cost their heads. They swallowed their humiliation and bowed deeper.
"Hoho, Soyeon. That's too much. This is still the Emperor's domain."
Namgung Pae chided mildly, but his bug-like gaze at the eunuchs betrayed him.
"Too much? Just stating facts. Dickless freaks playing at manhood, their stagnant yin qi reeks. Ugh, disgusting."
Namgung Soyeon mimed retching, oozing contempt. Her arrogance soared sky-high, born of a lifetime fawned over for her martial prowess and beauty.
That was when it happened.
"My, our hospitality must be lacking this morning."
A languid voice drifted from behind a garden tree.
The eunuchs and Namgung pair turned as one.
It was Cheonwi. He approached with hands behind his back, strolling leisurely. His lips curved in a friendly smile, but his eyes gleamed icy cold.
'That mouth's filthier than a rag. Time to rinse it with some bleach.'