49 Times Left, Master! (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 5
Why is my disciple’s voice echoing through this gambling den? At this point in time, my disciple should still be playing the part of the obedient and timid Thirteenth Prince.
A cold sweat trickles down my spine. But I’m certain—the voice I heard was indeed my disciple’s.
I stood frozen, unable to turn my head, for a few breaths. Gradually, the footsteps drew closer, until finally, the owner of that voice approached me in person.
“To think I’d meet you here, Master.”
Just as I expected. The refined face looking down at me from a noticeably higher eye level belonged to my disciple.
An involuntary sigh escaped me, and the corner of his smiling lips twitched upward slightly.
“Should I say I’m glad to see you?”
My disciple, now standing right before me, asked not with a greeting but as if seeking my advice.
I swallowed hard, looked up at my disciple, and barely managed to open my mouth.
“Your—”
I’d meant to ask, “Your Highness, what brings you to a place like this?”
But the question never left my lips—it retreated straight back down my throat. My disciple had pressed his folded fan against my mouth.
Is he mad? Instinctively, I closed my mouth and blinked. He then asked in a gentle tone,
“What good would it do for others to recognize a master and disciple meeting in a gambling den? Don’t you agree, Master?”
He clearly meant for me not to recklessly reveal his identity. Now that I thought about it, the Thirteenth Prince was outside the palace—indeed, inside a gambling den—and had only a single guard nearby.
He must not have come here openly.
I nodded to show I’d stay silent, and only then did my disciple withdraw his fan and cast his gaze around. I followed suit, glancing around as well.
‘Seon An, where are you? When are you finally coming?’
Seon An was still nowhere in sight. Still, it was fortunate that the people who’d been glancing my way when I stood alone now lost all interest the moment my disciple appeared at my side.
I stopped scanning the crowd and looked back at my disciple.
‘Damn it, heart. Could you please stop pounding so loudly? I know this meeting was unexpected, but there’s no need to make such a fuss.’
Why had my disciple come here? I didn’t know. Had he visited gambling dens in his past life? I couldn’t recall.
Yet here he was, pretending to recognize me, only to ignore me the moment I quieted down and busy himself scanning the surroundings.
Meeting me was surely a coincidence. Or perhaps he had someone else to meet? But had he come here on purpose because I’d suddenly shown up?
After some thought, I decided to simply ask him. But when I tried to call out to him, I froze. Damn it—what should I even call him?
Normally, I addressed him as “Your Highness,” but just moments ago, he’d told me not to use that title. Calling him “Thirteenth Prince” would be even worse than “Your Highness.”
But if I called him “young master,” my own attire already screamed “rich nobleman’s son” loud enough.
What about “younger brother”? Madness. The Thirteenth Prince would have me killed. Then perhaps…
“Um… Disciple.”
After much hesitation, I carefully used the title. My disciple, who’d been scanning the area the whole time, immediately turned to look at me and raised one eyebrow.
“Disciple?”
He repeated the word I’d just said. Was this title also unsuitable?
“Shall I call you something else?”
Fearful, I quickly tried to deflect with a question—but nothing else came to mind.
As I faltered, my disciple narrowed his eyes and stared at me as if testing me. His piercing gaze made my heart clench.
For a few breaths, until it felt hard to breathe, he held that look—then finally nodded.
“Call me that.”
So tense I was, I instinctively bowed deeply.
“Thank you.”
The moment I spoke, I realized there was nothing to thank him for. Damn it—I was the one refraining from using “Your Highness” out of consideration for his situation, so why was I thanking him?
Ah, no. Don’t overthink it. The more I dwell on anything involving this disciple, the angrier I’ll get.
Hiding my rising frustration, I cautiously asked my disciple, who was again surveying the room,
“Disciple… um, may I ask why you’re here?”
Without even glancing my way, he retorted,
“And why are you here, Master?”
“I asked first… but I suppose I can answer first. A friend of mine enjoys gambling, so I came looking for him. We’re quite close. And you?”
I’d expected him to say he’d come to gamble—even if it wasn’t true.
Instead, he let out a soft, mocking laugh and looked me up and down before replying,
“Close?”
It sounded like a question, but his tone was clearly mocking. I couldn’t tell what about my words invited ridicule, but his tone left no doubt. Flustered, I looked at him and answered,
“Yes. Close.”
Deliberately ignoring his mockery, I asked again,
“Disciple, why are you here?”
“I’ve come to find someone as well.”
“Someone?”
Surely it wasn’t Seon An. Had there been some past affection between my disciple and Seon An?
I couldn’t say for certain when I wasn’t around, but as far as I knew, there’d been no notable closeness between them.
“You seem to be thinking very hard, Master.”
Had my expression betrayed that I was mentally reviewing his past-life connections? Suddenly, my disciple whispered from above me. Startled, I looked up to find him gazing down with a faint smile.
But just because he smiled didn’t mean I could trust that smile. In his past life, he’d always treated me kindly—yet in the end, he’d ordered my execution.
“Thinking hard…?”
“Well… perhaps you were devising a way to scold your wayward disciple for frequenting gambling dens?”
“Ha… how could I…”
“Or perhaps you came here for leisure, only to have your mood spoiled by an unpleasant face?”
“Huh?”
I looked up at him with a blank, bewildered expression. My heart, which I’d finally calmed, was now racing wildly again.
Every word this disciple spoke dripped with sarcasm.
Feigning a dazed expression, I watched as he coldly muttered,
“Then again, what’s the point of saying such things to you now, Master?”
He turned his gaze elsewhere and added,
“Your friend you came to find is undoubtedly Master An of the Seon family. Go find him properly.”
“Disciple, I—”
“I’ll go look for my friend.”
Ah. Of course. My disciple had someone else to meet here too. Just as relief washed over me, he added one last barb,
“I know your heart is light, but don’t let your purse grow light as well.”
“Don’t let your purse grow light” probably meant “don’t gamble,” but what on earth did “your heart is light” mean?
At any rate, it seemed he had no intention of tormenting me here today, which was a relief. Rather than argue, I simply replied, “Yes,” and turned toward the direction where the crowd was thickest.
Hurry up, Seon An. Your friend is in serious trouble.
Just as my disciple—who’d claimed he’d go find his own friend—seemed about to leave, he suddenly touched my neck.
The moment his large, warm hand brushed my nape, I instinctively tucked my head in like a turtle and hunched my shoulders up. When I turned back, stiff and coiled, I saw my disciple’s hardened expression.
Seeing that look sent a chill through my heart. Damn it—this “me” from this time period wasn’t supposed to fear him yet! He was, after all, a prince publicly scorned and mistreated!
Yet here I was, showing outright fear. I must be mad! Cursing inwardly, I quickly stammered an excuse,
“My… neck is rather sensitive. Please don’t touch it.”
The excuse sounded absurd even to me, but I couldn’t think of anything better.
Still, since both he and I were publicly men, he wouldn’t misinterpret my words, right? I glanced cautiously at him.
But for some reason, his eyes looked dangerously sharp. His expression was icy, yet his eyes gleamed like a tiger encountered alone in the mountains at midnight.
His demeanor sent shivers down my spine. Had he misunderstood me? Did he interpret “sensitive” differently?
“I—I just—”
Before I could add more, he asked in a voice as cold as winter wind,
“Your neck. Who did this?”
“Huh?”
The moment I echoed his question, he seized the collar of my upper garment and flipped it open. I jumped in alarm, but he held my collar firmly and asked again in a low voice,
“The marks on your neck, Master. Who made them?”
‘Ah! It was Seon An earlier!’
Seon An had once nearly been assassinated over matters concerning his maternal family. When I carelessly revealed secrets about his maternal relatives that he hadn’t known, he’d suspected me and grabbed my neck. I’d grabbed his in return.
Apparently, that left marks.
Realizing my mistake, I hastily pulled my collar up to cover my neck—but his hand blocked me.
“Disciple. What are you doing?”
I tried scowling sternly, as a strict master should, but it was useless. His gaze remained fixed on my neck.
“Who did this? I’ll ask again, Master.”
What unsettled me was that he seemed genuinely angry. Staring at my neck like that, I was left speechless.
If I weren’t hiding the fact that I’d been reincarnated, I’d have bluntly asked him: “You wanted me dead too—why are you angry?”
He’d poisoned me right before my eyes in my past life. It wasn’t as if I’d been strangled to death—just a few marks remained. Why did his eyes look so terrifying?
Was it because he wanted to be the one to kill me, and someone else nearly did it first? Wait—now that I said it out loud, could that really be it?
The thought filled me with even greater dread, and goosebumps rose on my nape. How deep must his hatred run for him to rage so fiercely just because someone else nearly killed his enemy?
“You won’t answer, then.”
Trapped, unable to act, I covered my neck with my hand as he coldly muttered,
“There’s a reason for it.”
I forced an awkward smile and made an excuse.
It was infuriating that Seon An had grabbed my neck, but that was a matter between him and me—born of my careless revelation of his secret while he was on edge from assassination threats.
This wasn’t something I wanted to discuss with anyone, especially not my disciple, since it had nothing to do with him.
But my disciple was relentless.
“I’m asking what that reason is, Master.”
“This isn’t something you need to know, Disciple.”
“Not something I need to know?”
“Yes. It’s personal.”
“…”
Was he… angry? The disciple who’d been retorting sharply to every word I said suddenly fell silent. After gently touching my nape, I slowly raised my eyes to look at him. He was still staring at me, just as before.
The moment our eyes met, unexpectedly, he smiled like a fully bloomed cherry blossom—and said something I couldn’t believe.
“I see. If that’s truly your wish, I won’t press further. You must have reasons you’d rather not share with someone like me. But as your disciple, how could I possibly ignore marks on my master’s neck? Come to my room. I’ll treat them for you.”
What?
I stared at him, eyes wide with shock.
This absolutely could not happen. To treat my neck, I’d have to loosen my upper garment—and I was disguised as a man!
When scheming men desperately battle for her favor in the male harem
This one’s also on my reread list! The rivalry, scheming between the men in the imperial harem are just as intense and thrilling as in classic palace drama novels, where concubines fight to the death. Give it a read, girls! I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Synopsis:
“I am not worthy of her… but I still want to be by her side, even if only as a loyal dog…”
Those were the painful whispers of Yue Guanyi – the proud Crown Prince of the Great Qi, who was torn between deep love and a guilty conscience. Despite holding the supreme power of the Imperial Guard, he still could not forget the dark past when he was sold into a brothel.
Fate played a cruel twist when Qiu Shuzhi – a young female official who had just passed the imperial examinations with top honors – stepped into his life. She did not know that she was the one who had saved him from a tragic fate many years ago. And now, her heart was the target of pursuit for both Yue Guanyi and the powerful Empress Dowager Qin Qing.
While Yue Guanyi only dared to silently care for and protect the one he loved from afar, the Empress Dowager Qin Qing openly expressed his feelings and did not hesitate to take advantage of his power to approach Qiu Shuzhi. The covert struggle between the two most powerful forces in the imperial court began…
Trigger warning: All men in this novel are yandere style.
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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? 😭