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Chapter – 29
Operation: Bringing in Baedong
The plan wasn’t anything grand.
Amang had found a single loophole during her conversation with the Emperor.
Judging by all their counseling sessions so far, the Emperor avoided answering whenever a certain set of topics appeared.
For example: the late emperor, his brothers, the Empress Dowager, and the Geum clan.
They all had one thing in common:
“They knew the Emperor’s childhood.”
Unlike the imperial relatives who had passed away, the Geum clan was still alive and well.
Judging by the key positions they held in court, it seemed their dealings with the imperial family were as active as ever.
But if this theory was right… there was one thing that didn’t add up.
“Geum Jin.”
Calling Geum Jin to a lecture where only the Emperor, his consorts, and their children could attend?
That made no sense.
It would be nothing but blatant favoritism in front of everyone.
…Favorite? Wait.
“Was it on purpose?”
If the Emperor openly favored Geum Jin, it would stir hostility among the consorts who had borne imperial heirs. Geum Jin wasn’t even a prince—he was just a child of the Geum clan.
No matter how influential the Geum clan was, that didn’t matter. Unlike other noble families, they didn’t push their daughters into the harem.
They built their foundation as steadfast high officials. The hereditary office of Grand Preceptor gave them enough power without using daughters as political pieces.
“No, come on. That’s ridiculous.”
Her mind said it made no sense, but the uncomfortable chill creeping up her spine said otherwise.
Most of all—this was exactly the sort of thing the Emperor would do.
“All I need to do is make it look like he’s trying to make Geum Jin the Crown Prince.”
Then all arrows would aim for Geum Jin.
Just one person needed to be provoked.
Empress So Ryeong-ah.
Two women of the So clan in the harem?
And on top of that, wasn’t So Beauty originally a palace maiden serving the Empress?
That was strange too.
“Wait… I’m not gonna die because I helped So Beauty, right?”
What if the tanghulu she gave me had a tiny bit of poison? No way. I already ate it!
Calm down. Even if you die, you’re not dying alone.
“If it was real poison, I’m not letting that slide.”
But So Beauty didn’t have the guts. Amang had figured out her personality at a glance—someone who lived in constant fear would never try to harm another.
That wasn’t the point.
The Emperor had laid a trap right before Geum Jin. A trap meant to draw every accusation toward him.
To make him suffer early.
“He almost died already.”
If Amang hadn’t been there, if she hadn’t maintained her connection with Geum Jin, who knew what might’ve happened?
“Is this why Grand Preceptor Geum chose me?”
If her suspicions were true, then the Grand Preceptor must’ve noticed everything long ago. To protect his grandson, he must’ve thought this was the best option.
“Why are you thinking so deeply?”
“Huh?”
“You’re amusing.”
…Is that what he has to say right now?
They were back in Yeonyeong Palace. The Emperor hadn’t even touched the tea Nan brought.
“You enjoyed yourself too, Your Majesty.”
“I did? Impossible.”
“You were laughing your head off.”
That part was true.
The same man who glared daggers at her every time her tongue slipped had acted adorable—and it was so funny she nearly died.
“As long as it pleased you.”
When had he ever been this warm? Amazing. The sky might crack open tomorrow.
“Please allow me to bring in a baedong.”
“You understand what that means?”
“It means I’ll become friends with Geum Jin!”
“You’ll handle the consequences alone.”
A very meaningful statement.
“Just what happened in the past?”
What had Grand Preceptor Geum witnessed to make him bury the past with such desperation?
She was curious, but Amang didn’t ask.
Everyone has a past they wish to hide.
“Of course. I wasn’t planning on dumping anything on Your Majesty.”
Amang shrugged.
The guard beside the Emperor turned red and pale by turns—but that was probably her imagination.
“I’ll allow it. So don’t end our counseling sessions. Continue them.”
“Great. Normally, counseling once a week is best.”
“Not every two days?”
“Then we’ll run out of things to talk about.”
Counseling wasn’t just heavy conversations. It usually lasted about forty minutes to an hour, and if you talked only about heavy topics, you’d get drained fast.
A counselor is, quite literally, someone who listens.
She’d hear about what happened over the past week, emotional shifts, triggers…
A chain reaction of conversation.
“I see.”
“So please trust me.”
“If you play tricks, you’ll still lose your head.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
Getting threatened with death out of nowhere—Amang felt exhausted.
“Does he think I’m his errand boy? Counseling is a real profession, you know.”
She was a licensed therapist.
If she had enough time, she could handle someone like the Emperor the way she handled troubled toddlers.
“Too bad.”
Well, this was probably fate.
She wasn’t dead—she’d been transported into another body and was still functioning. She should thank whatever god was responsible.
“Good.”
“Wait!”
“What now?”
“You need to stamp this.”
Amang grabbed the Emperor and shoved a sheet of paper at him, eyes shining.
[Counseling Agreement]
Under the large title were crooked, clumsy sentences.
[Counselor Amang and Client Yangwon agree to the following. Counseling will be once every seven days at the hour of Shen. This is to ensure the counselor’s proper development. The client may choose the day. Counseling must be held on the appointed date…]
The Emperor read it with surprising seriousness.
“You wrote this yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Practice your handwriting.”
“Ahem.”
Curse this overly digitalized society! Writing on tablets and laptops had ruined her penmanship.
“What is a ‘day of the week’?”
“Every seven days.”
“I see.”
She had forgotten—this world had no weekly system.
“So… every seven days with no rest…?”
Amang stared at the guard.
Good luck.
This was basically a full-blown black company.
“Starting today, I’ll come every seven days.”
“Perfect.”
“Be properly prepared. If you value your life.”
Yes, yes. Of course, Your Majesty.
Amang looked at the Emperor’s fingerprint on the paper and let out a hollow laugh.
“Even here, I have to work.”
Truly the worst possession ever.
Three days later, a decree arrived at the Geum household.
“His Majesty decrees that Geum Jin is to become Baedong to Princess Amang of Yeonyeong Palace! Geum Jin shall prepare to enter the palace at once!”
It was a great blessing for the Geum clan.
They had many children, all of whom became excellent officials. Some even served as Grand Preceptors. But this was the first time any were chosen as baedong.
Geum Jin felt immense responsibility.
People might dismiss it as “babysitting a princess,” but he remembered his grandfather’s words clearly.
“This is only possible thanks to Her Highness’s boundless grace. You must serve her with your utmost devotion. One day, the Princess will become that person.”
Whether that was true or not, he didn’t know.
No matter how extraordinary she was, a princess was still a princess.
Not even the Empress’s daughter—just a concubine’s child.
“Princess…!”
Geum Jin recalled the first time he met Amang during the lecture. She’d helped him, comforted him, even patted his back and praised him!
In his mind, Amang’s image grew more and more radiant.
Meanwhile, in Yeonyeong Palace, Amang was practically clinging to the door, waiting. Her neck was stretched out as she scanned the surroundings.
“Your Highness, your neck might fall off.”
“When’s he coming?”
“You’re that happy?”
“Of course! Now we can open the Imperial Vault!”
“…”
“Ohh, hurry and come already!”
Her heart raced. Only the Emperor and Grand Preceptor could open the Imperial Vault. What secrets were hidden inside?
“Your Highness… must you really open that place?”
“Of course. I can’t stand not knowing.”
“Even if you find something… troubling?”
“Why are you asking that?”
“Just… a warning. Sometimes, secrets are better left alone.”
Why was he acting so out of character?
Nan nervously licked his chapped lips.
“Just what’s in there?”
His attitude only made Amang—who had once been an ordinary outsider—more curious.
“No way! If it’s a secret, I want to uncover it. No secret lasts forever.”
“!”
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“As expected of the Princess!”
Nan clapped like he’d witnessed enlightenment.
Honestly—not bad. Normally she’d think he was being dramatic, but today she’d let it slide.
“Geum Jin!”
“Princess.”
“You’re finally here!”
“Yes. This is all thanks to Your Highness’s boundless—”
“Let’s go!”
Amang grabbed his wrist and ran.
Just like when she crashed into Consort Hwajeong’s maid, she sprinted with all her might.
She was like a runaway truck with no brakes.
“I brought the one in charge! Open the door!”
“…Please open it, honored sirs.”
The eunuchs guarding the Imperial Vault blinked at the two children who had arrived riding the wind.
And finally—the door opened!
Please let there be something useful.
Amang rushed past Geum Jin and headed straight for the deepest corner. That was where precious things were always hidden.
And there…
…was a portrait of a woman.
“Huh?”
A tear slid down Amang’s cheek for no reason, and she wiped it away.
