49 Times Left, Master! (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 1
The glorious day my disciple ascended the throne as Emperor. What he bestowed upon me, his teacher, was poison.
At first, there was not the slightest hint of suspicion. Civil and military officials knelt and bowed before my disciple, who strode majestically toward his resplendent throne.
His countless brothers and sisters, who had survived the quiet yet brutal competition, could only gape in disbelief as the thirteenth child—the one they had always scorned—claimed victory.
Now enthroned, he was no longer the lowborn son of a palace maid, dismissed and despised. Anyone who dared to scorn him now as a bastard would have to offer up their own life and that of their entire clan.
Seated upon the throne, he smiled at me, and the crowd murmured softly. I faintly smiled in return and gave him a slight nod.
As the banquet began and the atmosphere relaxed somewhat, the more perceptive guests came to flatter me.
“Now, Lord Yo, you have nothing left to do but soar.”
“You are His Majesty’s sole teacher, and His Majesty is known to honor his teacher above all.”
“Indeed. His Majesty has always treated Lord Yo with great favor.”
“Lord Yo’s future shines brighter than any of ours. How envious we are.”
Historically, most imperial tutors were very old—so aged that even if granted the title of State Preceptor, they lacked the strength to wield any real influence.
But my disciple and I were different. Neither of us was particularly old—in fact, I was younger than most of the ministers now flocking to me, which made their flattery understandable.
It was in the midst of this banquet, while I was basking in everyone’s praise, that my disciple summoned me.
“Lord Yo. His Majesty wishes to see you privately.”
He sent his trusted eunuch to fetch me, and I followed. The eunuch led me to an empty chamber not far from the banquet hall.
It was a strange place—completely bare except for a single table.
On that table sat a white bowl containing something resembling a dark brown medicine.
My disciple, now Emperor, stood before the table.
“You called for me, Your Majesty?”
Though wondering why he had summoned me to such a place, I asked politely. The Emperor smiled gently and handed me the medicine bowl.
“Please drink, Master. Your disciple prepared this specially for you.”
He offered no further explanation—no reason for the summons, no reason for suddenly giving me medicine.
But the moment I saw that medicine bowl, I immediately felt a deep unease.
How much blood had been spilled for my disciple to reach the throne? How many families, perfectly intact one day, were utterly destroyed the next?
Having always criticized my disciple for such ruthlessness, how could I not sense something amiss now?
If it were merely a health tonic or elixir, there would be no need to prepare it secretly in such a place. Then… perhaps…
Instead of taking the bowl, I looked directly at my disciple.
“This is…”
Poison? I couldn’t bring myself to say the word aloud and let my voice trail off.
But my disciple seemed to understand. Our eyes met, and he answered with a gentle smile.
“Yes. It is poison.”
At those words, a chill ran down my spine, and an impulse to turn and flee surged within me. Indeed, I glanced toward the door.
But I knew—I could not run. Never. This palace was entirely within his grasp.
My hands began to tremble. Staring at him with disbelief, my disciple spoke in a tender voice, unlike one offering death.
“Come now, Master. Drink quickly. You are, after all, the sole State Preceptor. You must preserve your dignity on your final journey. What a disgrace it would be if you had to be dragged away screaming.”
When I still refused to take the bowl, my disciple stepped closer and held it right before my eyes. The bitter scent of death reached my nostrils first.
“Our Master is quite troublesome. Must your disciple feed it to you himself?”
“…Your Majesty.”
“Drink quickly.”
“Y-Your Majesty…”
My voice shook terribly. I took the bowl and looked up at him.
My disciple, towering over me by three heads, seemed ready to force it down my throat if I didn’t drink willingly.
His expression was kind, yet his eyes—cold and devoid of warmth—betrayed his resolve. Seeing that look, a surge of injustice welled up in my chest, and I blurted out,
“Why do you wish to kill me?”
My disciple replied with a question.
“What do you think?”
“Is it… because I am foolish? Because as a young State Preceptor, I might hinder Your Majesty’s rule?”
I had always criticized my disciple’s cruel and cold decisions. As a prince, he had endured my nagging with forced patience.
Now that he was Emperor, did he no longer feel the need to tolerate me?
My disciple burst into loud laughter and said,
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“Drink this first. Once you’ve taken it, I’ll tell you everything calmly as you walk the road to the afterlife.”
“Your Majesty…”
“I cannot accompany you as a traveling companion, but as your disciple, I must ensure your peaceful departure.”
Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. But since he had already decided my death, I had few choices.
As he said—either die with dignity or make a shameful scene.
In the end, with trembling hands, I gulped down the poison sip by sip. Surprisingly, it tasted sweet, unlike its appearance.
After finishing the death sentence and lowering the bowl, I saw my disciple smiling faintly as he said,
“Master dislikes bitterness, so I added extra sugar on purpose.”
How thoughtful of him. Even after drinking poison, my liver isn’t large enough to utter those words.
So potent was the poison that before I could draw a few breaths, my stomach churned violently and blood began flowing from my nose.
A suffocating pressure built in my throat until blood finally burst from my mouth as well. As blood dripped steadily from my nose and lips, tears streamed from my eyes.
Watching me cry in that state, my disciple’s pupils flickered slightly for the first time. Or was it just my imagination?
“The pain will be brief.”
Seeing me like this, my disciple whispered softly,
“I know—because I’ve tasted it myself.”
Then, saying something utterly absurd, he locked eyes with me and smeared the blood from my lips onto my cheek.
I wasn’t crying on purpose—but the tears wouldn’t stop.
Ever since my disciple entered the struggle for the throne, I had been dragged helplessly into danger.
His political rivals tormented me relentlessly, knowing I was his only teacher and thus a vulnerable target.
And after enduring all that, to receive poison from my own disciple… it was unbearably unjust.
It’s true I never particularly liked my disciple. Perhaps I wasn’t the kindest teacher either. Until forced onto the same boat as him, I had tried to keep my distance.
But that was all. I never betrayed him! Though forced onto his ship, once I realized his exceptional nature, I rowed alongside him—even through tears!
“Why… why must you kill me?”
If I didn’t understand this, I feared I’d return from the afterlife out of sheer injustice—so I asked, even as blood boiled in my throat.
As soon as the words left my mouth, my legs gave way and my vision darkened rapidly. Someone caught my body. When my sight partially returned, I found myself leaning against my disciple.
Gently brushing aside my hair—likely a complete mess by now—he whispered,
“As promised, I’ll tell you, Master. I’ve lived this same life many times before.”
What?
“Do you know what’s strange? Each time, it was you, Master, who killed me. Always. The poison I’ve given you now is the very same you fed me in those past lives.”
“That’s absurd…”
“You needn’t believe it if it’s hard to accept. But I have indeed died many times—each time regressing to childhood and reliving the same life.”
Absurd as it sounded, his words reminded me how he’d always seemed to foresee the future—navigating every hardship and peril with uncanny precision.
Even his enemies had once marveled, “Could the Thirteenth Prince possess some sort of foresight?”
Blood surged from my mouth again. Yet my sense of injustice refused to fade. Regardless of what I’d done in his past lives, wasn’t I just an ordinary teacher now?
“Do you hate me?”
“I’ve wondered the same, Master. Did you hate your disciple?”
“!”
A short sigh fell above my head.
“You forced the medicine bowl into my mouth. I begged you through tears, saying you were all I had, pleading with you not to do it—but in the end, you killed me. I still wonder, Master… did you truly hate me so much?”
[This is the timeline separator]He wasn’t sure if his master had heard his final words. Hwa Ryeo quietly gazed down at his master’s blood-streaked face, confirming the stillness of his body—eyes unshut.
“In the end, I’ll never hear your answer.”
He laid down the corpse he’d been holding and rose to his feet. Blood had splattered across his chest, ruining his ceremonial robes, but he didn’t care in the slightest.
“Then again, that answer is no longer needed. Farewell, Master. Don’t be too bitter. To repay you exactly as you repaid me, I still have forty-nine more times to go.”
When Hwa Ryeo opened the door himself, the shadows stationed outside as a precaution instantly stood at attention on either side.
“The State Preceptor…”
“Dispose of the body.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Hwa Ryeo gave the order without a shred of emotion and didn’t return to the banquet. Instead, he began walking in the opposite direction.
“At last, I shall take my revenge on my enemy.”
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Hwa Ryeo murmured quietly as he walked down the long corridor, clad in bloodstained ceremonial robes.
The long hem of his crimson robe trailed behind him like blood crawling across the floor.
The shadows followed silently, wondering what enemy could possibly exist for an Emperor who had known nothing but victory.
Hwa Ryeo’s lips curled upward as he recalled events from before his regression.
Each time, it had been his master who killed him—but his master was never the true mastermind. The one behind his master changed every time. No matter which enemy he faced, that enemy would always join hands with his master to kill him—it was uncanny.
And in the very last life, the one behind his master had been the Fifth Hwang Nyeo.
That illustrious Fifth Hwang Nyeo, whom his master had preferred over the “despised Thirteenth Prince.”
A smile bloomed on Hwa Ryeo’s lips. He should have killed her long ago—but he had deliberately kept her alive to be the very last one he destroyed.
“Elder sister, you won’t be granted a gentle death.”
Just then, a shadow rushed up and grabbed his arm as he walked cheerfully along.
“Your Majesty. Regarding the State Preceptor…”
Hwa Ryeo stopped, frowned, and turned around.
“Has she come back to life?”
“No. While changing her clothes, we discovered something… that is…”
The shadow, unusually flustered, hesitated. Hwa Ryeo’s eyes turned icy.
The trusted eunuch standing beside the Emperor gave the shadow a sharp look, urging him to speak quickly. The shadow hastily reported,
“The State Preceptor was a woman.”
“I see.”
Unlike the shadow, Hwa Ryeo wasn’t surprised at all. He had lived fifty-one lives and died fifty times. Countless things had happened. He already knew his master was a woman in disguise.
“What does it matter whether the corpse is male or female?”
Even if his master were a woman, it wouldn’t undo what she had done to him before his regression.
Seeing Hwa Ryeo’s indifference, the shadow bowed respectfully and quietly stepped back.
Hwa Ryeo turned once more and walked down the corridor, opening the door to the room where the Fifth Hwang Nyeo was imprisoned.
Inside sat a woman of breathtaking, almost feline beauty, bound at the wrists and seated in a chair.
The world referred to the Thirteenth Prince Hwa Ryeo and the Fifth Hwang Nyeo Seo Ryeo as “Hwa Eum Yang Ok”—a phrase praising them as the most beautiful prince and princess of Hwa Eum.
Yet their lives had been utterly different.
The Fifth Hwang Nyeo Seo Ryeo was the firstborn child of the Empress, the legitimate eldest daughter, beloved by the entire nation.
In contrast, Hwa Ryeo was a bastard son born to a ninth-rank palace maid—the lowest of the low. Since his mother died giving birth to him, he had been scorned his whole life as “the bastard with the lowest-born mother.”
And yet, victory now belonged to that very bastard, the Thirteenth Prince. Hwa Ryeo’s lips curled upward in satisfaction.
At that moment—
Hwa Ryeo frowned at the distant sound of a bell.
‘This sound…?’
It was the same bell he had heard each time he died in his past lives.
The bell that always rang just before he awoke again after regressing to childhood—sounding as if from some faraway fortress in the netherworld.
“Who is ringing that bell?”
Hwa Ryeo asked coldly, but the shadows looked bewildered and replied, “Huh?”
Seo Ryeo, the Fifth Hwang Nyeo, who had remained silent until now, stared at him with strange eyes.
For the first time, panic flickered in Hwa Ryeo’s otherwise composed gaze.
‘Surely not!’
[This is the timeline separator]“Surely you didn’t do it on purpose?”
“……”
“Sister! I’m asking you!”
“……”
“Hey! Yo Yohwa! Are you even listening to me?”
I snapped back to my senses at the sharp, shouting voice.
When I came to, my younger sister Lin Hwa stood before me, yelling furiously.
Dazed, I stared at her, then looked around in confusion.
“Where’s my disciple?”
Where had the disciple in ceremonial robes gone—and why was Lin Hwa here?
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My disciple was nowhere to be seen. Moreover, this wasn’t the empty palace chamber with the poison—it was just our backyard.
Flustered, I looked at Lin Hwa—and noticed her age… she looked younger?
Staring at her in disbelief, Lin Hwa spoke in a harsh tone.
“My sister’s disciple? That idiot Thirteenth Prince? And you’re trying to push him on me as my backer now?”
Idiot Thirteenth Prince? Not the fearsome Emperor who had slaughtered all his troublesome siblings and seized the throne—but the idiot Thirteenth Prince?
That nickname had only been used during the time he hid his ambitions!
Still dazed, I looked at Lin Hwa and recalled what my dying disciple had told me—that he had died repeatedly in past lives and awakened each time back in the past.
Right. He clearly said he regressed after death. Could it be… could this really be…?
‘Was regression real after all?’
Most Commented This Week
When male lead is the homewrecker
“I know she doesn’t love him.”
I’ve read the novel below twice already. Girls, I’m highly recommending it to you!

The female lead? Not a good person.
The second male lead? Not a good person.
The male lead? Willingly plays the third party, breaking up the female and second male lead’s relationship despite all the warnings from his friends—so yeah, he’s definitely not a good person either.
Basically, nobody in this novel is simple-minded or without scheming.
The female lead starts off as the male lead’s secretary, but don’t worry—later on, she takes over the company while the male lead steps back to support her. He won’t steal her spotlight, overshadow her, or dull her shine.
I love novels where men are out here snatching wigs, tearing each other down, and going to war just to win the female lead’s affection. And this is exactly that kind of novel. Most of Hai Dai Ran’s works have this dynamic. You’ll see the male characters’ emotions being pushed to the absolute extreme.
There’s even a scene where the second male lead exposes the male lead online for being a homewrecker. The brotherhood immediately gangs up on him, dragging him through the mud. I find it compelling —it completely flips reality on its head, where usually, women are the ones fighting over a man and getting torn apart by the sisterhood.
For me, female leads in the novels I read should only struggle in their careers, not in love. But if the brainless romantics in the story are all men? I have zero complaints.
I’ve pretty much read all of Hai Dai Ran’s novels and even translated all of them—her works are just my thing. I’ll slowly upload everything here. One day, when my website is official, I hope I can invite her to join as one of the star authors.
Here’s the story synopsis:
One-line summary: She is his lifelong obsession, to the point where he was willing to be a third wheel, scorned by society, just to wedge his way into her relationship with her fiancé.
Cold-hearted and indifferent female lead + Scheming and subservient CEO male lead
Intro 1:
“I know she doesn’t love him.”
With blood trickling from his clenched fist, Rong Xiu gazed at the woman before him, his eyes clouded with anguish. Hidden in the wardrobe, he had witnessed Fan Xia – the woman he desperately loved – in an intimate embrace with her fiancé. Yet his heart still yearned for her, defying all reason.
Fan Xia, the elegant and composed assistant, carried something mysterious in her eyes whenever she looked at her fiancé, Wen Lan Sheng. Strange occurrences began to surface – secret meetings with the young Gu Jin Yi, an unexplained withdrawal of 5,000 yuan… Then suddenly, her fiancé’s sister, Wen Jing, violently attacked her.
In this matriarchal society, Rong Xiu had risen to become the chairman of a powerful healthcare conglomerate, breaking through gender prejudices. But for the first time, he willingly stepped into the shadows as the other man, disregarding his friends’ warnings to become her secret lover.
Because he had discovered the truth – Fan Xia wasn’t the pure angel everyone believed her to be. And perhaps, he was the only one capable of helping her execute her mysterious plan…
Intro 2:
Rong Xiu’s biggest regret in life was missing out on Fan Xia.
He secretly loved Fan Xia for 7 years.
Watched her go public with her boyfriend.
Watched her kiss her boyfriend at their wedding.
Until that man blissfully nestled in Fan Xia’s arms, obtaining everything he could only dream of.
The crazy jealousy stripped away his hidden secret love, layer by layer, burning like wildfire.
Fan Xia, how can I have you!
【Reading and Trigger Warning Guide】
1. Female dominant, male submissive, male pregnancy
2. Male lead schemes his way to the top, male competition
_____
Please help me, I want to bring you the best possible things.
If you find any chapter or novel with poor translation and editing quality, let me know by commenting directly under that novel or chapter. I will retranslate it as soon as possible.
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Chapter Comments (2)
Inline Comments (46)
- Monokonoko Chapter 124 — Paragraph 132
As the boy began reciting clearly, the Empress clapped continuously, smiling war
Poor child. He gets in danger in this place automatically because he is smart 😢
- Monokonoko Chapter 125 — Paragraph 151
“Why do you ask that?”
Could it be that the trap is to check if she already knows how to swim in this timeline? (Something like the case when she needed to conceal her improved drawing skills)
- Monokonoko Chapter 125 — Paragraph 159
“Didn’t I already say? Your disciple dislikes noise.”
Could it be that the culprit is 13th, and he intentionally kept Yohwa out of suspicion? Or the culprit is the Empress, but he knows, so is doing it?
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This is truly just very frustrating why is the princess sooo infatuated girl have a back bone don’t ruin yourself for a man
How many chapters are replaced with that one about princess bomoon? Is it 3rd time already? 😭