The twilight had long settled over Donggung Palace.
The busy candles, burning themselves out, cast a faint light beyond the palace walls.
Hwan, the master of Donggung Palace, was so engrossed in reading that he was unaware of the bell announcing the evening.
His face was pale as moonlight, and his delicate features were accentuated by his long, slender eyes gazing out the window at the darkening sky.
His gaze, like a candle flickering in the wind, had an air of precariousness.
“It’s gotten late.”
Realizing it was time to sleep, Hwan closed the book he was reading.
As he was preparing to lie down, wrapped in his night robe, he heard the voice of Park, his attendant, outside the door of his chamber.
“Your Highness, are you in your chambers?”
“Not yet. What is it?”
“The leader of Kwang Ho Army has come to see you.”
At the mention of the Kwang Ho Army by Park, Hwan paused for a moment but then nonchalantly moved his thin lips.
“It’s late. Send him away and tell him to come tomorrow.”
“But, Your Highness…”
Park’s voice from outside seemed to be in a difficult situation.
Simultaneously, noisy commotion could be heard from outside the palace.
―Clang! Crash!
“Lord of the Kwang Ho Army!”
“You mustn’t do this!”
Amidst the noisy ruckus, Hwan raised his voice.
“What is this commotion?”
Soon after, the chamber door of Donggung Palace burst open.
Kwon Ki Joo stood at the door, his front covered in blood and disheveled.
The courtiers and Park, unable to stop him, looked troubled, shuffling their feet anxiously.
An air of unease centered around Kwon Ki Joo.
Even amidst the chaos, Hwan showed an incongruously gentle smile.
His smile and Kwon Ki Joo’s tense air intertwined, creating a twisted atmosphere in the chamber.
While Hwan’s face was smiling, his gaze towards Kwon Ki Joo was chillingly indifferent.
For Hwan, Kwon Ki Joo’s late-night visit was far from welcome, as if an invisible barrier lay between them.
Despite having grown up together in the palace, the brotherly affection they should have shared was nowhere to be found.
Kwon Ki Joo, the child of a concubine who monopolized the Emperor’s affection, was a thorn in Hwan’s side.
Hwan had hoped to gain the Emperor’s attention by becoming the Crown Prince, but nothing changed.
As Kwon Ki Joo’s place in their father’s heart grew, so did Hwan’s jealousy, eventually manifesting as hatred for his half-brother.
For Kwon Ki Joo, too, Hwan’s thinly veiled hostility made a cordial relationship impossible, fitting the saying that they were less than strangers.
Seated on his bed, Hwan asked calmly.
“What is the meaning of this disturbance at such a late hour without permission?”
At Hwan’s question, Kwon Ki Joo silently stepped into the chamber.
No emotion showed on his face, but his eyes were fierce enough to kill.
Despite his sharp gaze, Hwan continued nonchalantly.
“You wouldn’t have come just to see me.”
At that moment, Kwon Ki Joo threw a bundle he was holding at Hwan’s feet.
―Thump!
The bundle landed heavily at Hwan’s feet, staining the floor of the chamber with seeping blood.
As the knot came undone, the bloodied head of a man rolled out from the bundle.
It was the man who had wounded Kwon Ki Joo’s abdomen.
The courtiers around were shocked at the sight and simultaneously, several of the palace guards, known as Ikwisa, rushed forward, pointing their spears at Kwon Ki Joo.
Despite having a blade pointed at his throat, Kwon Ki Joo remained composed, showing no signs of panic.
At Hwan’s nonchalant gesture, the Ikwisa who had been threatening Kwon Ki Joo retreated like shadows.
Hwan, who had been quietly observing the severed head, raised his head slowly and asked Kwon Ki Joo in a calm tone.
“What is this?”
“I brought back the excessive gift you sent me.”
The conversation, happening over a man’s head, was eerily calm.
The flow of their dialogue created a bizarre atmosphere, making the air in the room suffocating.
Hwan, as if the severed head in front of him had nothing to do with him, continued to smile kindly.
“I do not understand what you are talking about.”
“It’s strange that Your Highness is unaware.”
Kwon Ki Joo responded with a sarcastic curl of his lip to Hwan’s feigned laughter.
Hwan, maintaining his composure, continued the conversation.
“The Kwang Ho Army seems to enjoy cruel jokes. Ah, I heard you named a special unit after yourself.”
Hwan skillfully changed the subject, displaying a snake-like cunning.
“I’ve heard it’s a unit formed of those who haven’t fulfilled their military duties. I’m quite concerned it might tarnish the reputation of the Kwang Ho Army.”
Hwan’s face was too relaxed for someone expressing concern, his words laced with condescension.
Kwon Ki Joo, his expression unchanging, looked at Hwan with an icy gaze, chilling the air in the room.
It felt like his breath would turn to mist if he spoke.
Kwon Ki Joo quietly moved his lips, releasing a deep, low voice.
“You seem overly worried. I assure you, I am capable of sending a head as a gift.”
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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