The Secret Night at Unyeon Palace (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 7
Watching Eun Seol’s retreating figure as she hurried away as if chased, Woon roughly pushed back the strands of hair that had fallen onto his forehead.
His chest felt inexplicably tight, and his mood soured.
Lost in thought, he snapped out of it only when he heard So Hyang calling his name.
“My Lord, you’re being far too harsh in front of others. I’m surely not *that* invisible.”
“Enough pointless chatter—just sit. You never come even when invited, so what brings you here today?”
“I had no choice but to visit, since you refused to come yourself.”
So Hyang rarely visited his residence.
She never did anything that might bring harm to him.
Knowing that rumors of a courtesan visiting Woon Yeon Palace would do no good, she avoided setting foot there unless something truly exceptional had arisen.
Her coming in person thus clearly indicated urgency—or something extraordinary.
So Hyang pulled a chair forward and sat directly across from him. Unlike earlier, her expression now looked somewhat somber.
“A few days ago, people connected to the Chief State Councillor visited Eunwol Pavilion—not the main hall, but the inner quarters.”
“If they used the inner quarters, that implies something significant. Was the Chief State Councillor himself present?”
“He was indeed there in person. From what I overheard them say, it’s now certain he was involved in the late Queen Consort’s inheritance long ago—and currently, he’s staking everything on Royal Noble Consort Song’s pregnancy.”
“Well, of course. He’ll be burning up inside, desperate to see a son born from his own daughter by any means necessary. By now, he’s likely already preparing contingencies in case the Royal Noble Consort fails to deliver a boy.”
“More absurdly, there are rumors—not only among the other consorts but even regarding the Queen Consort Herself—that Her Majesty has been unable to share chambers with His Majesty the King.”
“Madness!”
The curse slipped out involuntarily.
Chief State Councillor Song Mun Sik’s tyranny was growing increasingly brazen, crossing lines day by day.
The thought that *they*, of all people—fully aware that three prior miscarriages rendered further conception nearly impossible—would interfere even in the King’s and Queen’s time together twisted his gut.
“If His Majesty remains without an heir, do you truly believe they’ll leave you unscathed? To them, you’re nothing less than a thorn in their side—even now, they wait hungrily, watching for any weakness to exploit.”
“My weakness isn’t held by them—it’s held by *you*. Isn’t that right?”
“And yet the very person who knows that severed all contact the moment the wedding ceremony concluded?”
So Hyang shot him a playful glare and retorted sharply.
He set his teacup down mid-sip and gave an awkward smile.
Woon had never once coveted the throne.
Though he’d always lived quietly in his elder brother’s shadow, he’d never resented that life.
No one had ever oppressed him, yet over time, he’d come to realize it himself:
He must not stand out, and he must not harbor resentment toward anyone.
To protect his elder brother—bereft of their mother at a young age—he’d deliberately distanced himself from the affection of the Late King and the Queen Dowager.
He even shied away from appearing before others.
Yet that life hadn’t been unhappy.
He’d simply felt lonely, and that solitude pained him.
So Hyang had been the one to rescue him years ago when he’d collapsed, wounded by assassins—and then tended to him for days.
Through that bond, the two had become inseparable friends and allies.
“The dissolute, womanizing Grand Prince Jinheon”—“So Hyang, head of Eunwol Pavilion, madly infatuated”—“a hopeless drunkard.”
These were rumors deliberately spread by So Hyang herself, fearing renewed political suppression by the ministers.
Because of those rumors, he’d lived more freely—and even managed to hold the marriage he truly wanted.
“I’ve been rather busy lately. Now that there’s no one left whose opinion I need to consider, I’ll visit Eunwol Pavilion soon.”
“Don’t let your guard down. From now on, under no circumstances must you fall into their hands. Be cautious—*extremely* cautious. To them, you’re someone who must be eliminated without delay. You understand what I mean, don’t you?”
Woon narrowed his brows, turning So Hyang’s words over in his mind.
Despite living so quietly all this time, the Chief State Councillor still refused to leave him alone.
“You’re aware the Chief State Councillor’s funds originate from the Jindo Trade Guild, correct? Rumor has it they’re again preparing to monopolize and purchase the entire ginseng harvest this time. Shouldn’t we stop them?”
“Tae Seong Merchant Group has already begun behind-the-scenes maneuvering—so don’t worry about that. Just wait a little longer.”
Over the past few days, he’d met secretly—avoiding public eyes—with Kim Woo Seop, head merchant of Tae Seong, and influential members of the Song Faction.
In any organization, there are inevitably individuals dissatisfied due to conflicting interests.
Since they harbored strong grievances against both the Jindo Guild and Chief State Councillor Song Mun Sik, persuading them proved surprisingly straightforward.
“The guild members have been gathering frequently lately. Any time they sit down, they speak of the Jindo Guild—and every single one describes the situation as ‘the calm before the storm.’ Something’s bound to erupt soon.”
“But when has such tension ever been limited to just a day or two? Keep observing the Chief State Councillor’s movements for now. If anything suspicious arises, contact me immediately.”
“Understood. By the way—did you perhaps get angry with the Lady Consort?”
“What?”
“You called me inside supposedly to provoke Her Ladyship, didn’t you?”
Woon shot So Hyang a displeased glance, as though she could read his thoughts too clearly.
“You mustn’t wound the woman you hold dear in your heart. If you want to win her, you must cherish her.”
“What nonsense are you spouting?”
“I’ve known you for five years—and besides, I’m just *unnervingly* perceptive. If you truly wish to provoke the Lady Consort, I’m happy to assist. So—shall I help?”
“If you’ve nothing better to say, just leave.”
“You always say that—‘Leave if you’ve nothing important to say.’ She clearly seems tenderhearted. Don’t hurt her—you’ll regret it later.”
“That’s enough!”
At the sudden hardening of his expression and the icy chill in his voice, So Hyang wisely fell silent.
Woon now felt even heavier pressure in his chest—and inexplicably furious, far more than before.
* * *
Ever since leaving the outer residence, all his attention had remained fixed there.
Nothing held his focus; no coherent thought formed.
Pacing restlessly in the inner courtyard, Eun Seol finally let out a hollow, self-mocking laugh.
She found her own behavior utterly ridiculous.
By what right did she care—let alone obsess—over whom the Grand Prince met or what he did?
How much time had passed?
She spotted So Hyang emerging from the outer residence and walking toward the inner quarters where she stood.
So Hyang moved lightly, glancing around as she approached—and once inside the courtyard, she scanned her surroundings before stepping closer.
“The inner quarters seem greatly changed. His Highness must have taken great care, all for the Lady Consort’s sake.”
So Hyang appeared accustomed to visiting Woon Yeon Palace—her steps flowed naturally, and her observation of the surroundings remained unhurried.
Something surged within Eun Seol, but she swallowed a sigh and feigned composure.
“I’ve heard His Highness holds you in special regard.”
“Hmm. His Highness isn’t one for such remarks… Perhaps you’ve heard idle rumors circulating?”
So Hyang kept smiling gently as she looked at her—clearly not expecting a direct answer.
“Whether ‘holds in high regard’ is quite the right phrasing, I’m not sure—but isn’t it only natural for a butterfly to seek a fragrant flower?”
“…….”
“But here’s the thing: this butterfly seeks the fragrant flower, yet does nothing—only sits quietly beside it. One would expect it to be intoxicated by the scent, wouldn’t one? So—why does this butterfly sit? Is it truly drawn to the flower?”
So Hyang, having posed her question, slowly shifted her unfocused gaze toward Eun Seol and continued in a measured tone.
“For this butterfly, the fragrance and nectar of *other* flowers held no appeal at all. Doesn’t that intrigue you? What could possibly explain it?”
“……?”
“A butterfly with a beloved mate pays no attention to anyone else. No matter how persistently another flutters its wings nearby, it doesn’t so much as stir. A butterfly of truly remarkable fidelity.”
So Hyang, having spoken her cryptic parable, lifted her chin past Eun Seol’s shoulder and nodded in silent greeting to someone behind her.
Following So Hyang’s gaze, Eun Seol turned—and her eyes met the Grand Prince’s as he approached from afar.
He wore not military uniform, but a simple *dopo* robe.
She was the first to avert her uneasy stare.
So Hyang walked toward him, where he’d halted, and smiled brightly.
“Are you ready to depart?”
“Let’s go.”
His voice, flat and subdued, sounded colder to her than ever before.
In his retreating back—turned away so indifferently—she found no trace of lingering affection for her.
Watching the two figures fade into the distance, her chest throbbed painfully.
Why did *this* moment hurt more than all the beatings she’d endured from Soon Young in childhood?
When would she finally be free of such pain?
The problem was her growing desire: as long as she wasn’t cast out from here, she told herself—that wish kept sprouting greedy new shoots.
At first, she’d believed that if only she could escape Soon Young’s abuse and that hellish household, she wouldn’t care where the Grand Prince’s heart lay.
Yet with time, she began craving *his* heart—*his* love.
It shamed her, how she couldn’t let go of a man who never offered her a single warm glance or kind word.
To shake off her thoughts, she shook her head firmly.
Then, pausing briefly, she took a slow, deep breath—and began walking deliberately toward Dowon Pavilion.
Though the overcast sky had darkened ominously since morning—threatening rain—it mattered little, as the shower wouldn’t last.
Sitting on the pavilion’s steps, she watched petals blown by the wind drift down to the ground—and for no discernible reason, her heart grew heavy.
“Sigh… Everything will be all right.”
This level of pain was neither unforeseen nor unbearable.
She’d weathered worse—exactly as she always had.
She stared long at the pond where falling petals gathered.
White blossoms blanketed the water’s surface, drifting gently with the ripples.
The surroundings dimmed gradually—then, without warning, cold wind surged, and rain began pouring down.
The thick, roiling storm clouds suggested this wouldn’t end quickly.
This ominous downpour seemed ready at any moment to unleash lightning and thunder.
She needed to leave before it worsened—but her feet refused to move.
Anxiously, she scanned her surroundings.
Her unfocused eyes trembled uncontrollably.
No one was near; nowhere offered shelter.
She *had* to return.
She *had* to run into the rain and seek safety—yet she couldn’t take even a single step, as if an invisible hand gripped her ankles.
Her whole body shook violently; her heart pounded as if about to burst.
Her breaths grew ragged—she couldn’t exhale fully, couldn’t steady her breathing.
“Don’t be afraid—just run.”
She murmured it like a mantra—yet her body, already rigid with fear, wouldn’t obey.
“Please—move! Just *move!*”
She pounded and clawed helplessly at her unresponsive legs.
Tears streaming down her cheeks blurred her vision until she could barely see.
She covered her ears with both hands and squeezed her eyes shut.
Begging silently for no thunder to sound, she tried calming her trembling frame—and the instant she managed one shaky step forward, her thoughts froze entirely.
Through the deluge, lightning flashed and thunder roared.
A deafening crash erupted as lightning struck the earth directly overhead.
In that moment, she pressed herself flat against the ground, covering her ears, trembling uncontrollably.
“Someone… please… Court Lady Eom, help me… Ahh!”
Her cry drowned beneath the thunderclap and blinding flash before her—vanishing with the rain into the earth.
Overwhelming terror crushed her chest; tears streamed ceaselessly from her eyes.
She needed somewhere—*anywhere*—to hide.
Crawling on the ground, she fled into utter darkness, where she couldn’t see even a hand’s breadth ahead.
Unaware she was doing so, she wept openly—sobbing as if her heart would break—while gazing into the dark, rain-lashed void.
“…Your Highness… please… take me with you.”
She couldn’t breathe properly—her heart felt as if it might stop any second.
Each sporadic peal of thunder made her curl tighter, shaking with fear.
Within her fading consciousness, she called endlessly for someone—anyone.
“Mother… please save me.”
Why—why did she always think of her mother, whom she’d never even seen, in moments like this?
If only her mother, already gone, would simply come and take her away.
“Please—stop. Please… just *stop.*”
Despite her desperate pleas, the wind, rain, and thunder only grew fiercer.
Her voice faded beneath the downpour—and her awareness dimmed, slipping steadily away.
My Arch-enemy Sealed My Memory and Said That He is My Husband
This is an incredibly captivating story that you absolutely shouldn’t miss! I’ll give a brief introduction here, and below you’ll find a detailed synopsis of the plot.
The female lead is a fierce and powerful demon king. The male lead is a once-in-a-millennium celestial lord, admired by the entire cultivation world.
They are equally matched, legendary rivals who have battled for centuries.
In the final duel, the female lead is gravely injured. The male lead saves her, seals her memories, and hides her true identity. He tells her that he is her fiancé. His entire life has been flawless—except for the one thing he never expected, never controlled, and never wanted to control: falling for his greatest enemy. She is his inner demon, his obsession.
When the female lead regains her memories, she is furious at his deception.
She makes his life a living hell.
And somehow, the male lead—possibly a total masochist—doesn’t mind at all. In fact, he’s happy she’s paying attention to him.
Yep, we’re back to my favorite trope: male lead suffering. If you love this kind of story, jump into the pit with me now!!!
Intro
Dong Xia lost her memory.
Her handsome and extremely powerful fiancé Li Qing comforted her: “It’s okay if you can’t remember. I’ll always be with you.”
Everyone thought Dong Xia’s ancestors must have burned incense to get such a perfect fiancé. He was the number one person in the immortal realm, yet he remained chaste and only loved her.
…
The day before marrying her fiancé, Dong Xia finally remembered everything.
She wasn’t suffering from memory loss at all.
Her arch-enemy had made her fake her death, destroyed her cultivation, replaced her memories, and pretended to be her deeply in love fiancé.
No wonder he said, “It’s okay if you can’t remember”!
Dong Xia laughed coldly as she pulled out her long knife: Li Qing, prepare to die 🙂
*
Li Qing, as the supreme being of the immortal realm, was the people’s shining beacon.
The only unknown stain in his life was his affection for Dong Xia, the ruler of the demon realm.
In the final battle of the war between immortals and demons, the sky collapsed and the earth shattered. The ruler of the demon realm was finally slain under the sword of the supreme being of the immortal realm, and everyone in the immortal realm applauded.
The cultivation world lost a ruler of the demon realm.
And in the back mountain of Li Qing’s cave dwelling, he secretly hid away a fiancée.
Notes:
1. The female lead is white on the outside, black on the inside, and the queen of flattery; the male lead repeatedly tests the edge of darkness, a VIP guest at the crematorium.
2. Fantasy cultivation world setting.
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
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