I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 31: It’s All My Fault

The declaration that he would head for the Central Plains wasn’t a sudden whim or a spur-of-the-moment idea.

Ever since Jincheon had sensed that things were taking a strange turn, he had wanted to do this.

If people understood a situation differently depending on their perception of the facts, then ultimately, the only way to resolve it was to ask the one who had caused it—the one responsible.

That man. The one they called the former, or previous, Palace Master.

But there was a problem with this method.

If Jincheon were to say, “Ah, I see. There must’ve been some misunderstanding. I’ll go back and check,” would the people of the Heavenly Flame Palace simply accept that?

Absolutely not.

They might insist on leaving Jincheon behind while they went to verify it themselves.

“That won’t do.”

That would make him no different from a death-row prisoner just waiting to be executed.

Who knew? They might return in a fury and declare, “That fraud must die,” and kill him.

That’s why he had to take control.

He needed to put them in a position where they couldn’t reject his request—and he had to be the one to go, no matter what.

Just in case, he needed to be able to slip away if things went south.

“O Red Dragon.”

Jincheon snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon’s voice.

With a serious gaze, she said,

“This is a noble cause and a rightful decision.”

It was a surprisingly positive response—and one Jincheon had secretly hoped for.

“Then, what punishment shall you deliver to the Central Plains? What retribution shall you exact upon them?”

“...Punishment? Ah—!”

Jincheon’s breath caught.

To them, the death of the previous Palace Master was an indisputable fact.

After all, if he weren’t dead, why else would Jincheon have shown up holding the red orb—the Wrath?

From their point of view, revenge and retribution were not only natural, they were a rightful duty.

No—historically, such vengeance was both a duty /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ of the successor and a declaration of legitimacy.

A heavy silence fell.

With a stiff expression, Jincheon spoke in a low voice.

“That, too...”

There was only one thing he could say.

Even if it was a stretch, there was no helping it.

His face flushed with heat, and Jincheon did his best to hide it as he continued.

“That is none of your concern.”

Even as he said it, he couldn’t believe it himself.

They were speaking of rightful vengeance for their fallen lord—and he was brushing it off as not their concern?

Especially for Jincheon, who had studied the teachings of the Confucian classics, their loyalty and righteous outrage were more than understandable.

But he had no choice.

From his position, talk of revenge was beside the point. He already had his hands full with his own problems.

Yet to the others, Jincheon’s clenched lips and faintly trembling voice conveyed a completely different meaning.

Who here mourned the most?

Who, more than anyone, was consumed with rage?

Who held the rightful authority for vengeance—and who bore the full weight of that authority?

Jincheon’s gritted lips and shaking voice made that answer painfully clear to all of them.

Swish.

North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon knelt.

“If you would bear the former master’s deeds and sins alone, O Red Dragon...”

She bowed her head deeply toward Jincheon and said,

“Then we, foolish and sinful, have spoken out of turn about that which belongs only to the Red Dragon.”

She was not alone.

Swish.

The other three Commanders and all twelve of the Twelve Signs knelt as well and lowered their heads.

Jincheon let out a low groan.

Somehow, it seemed he’d gotten through it again.

But their solemn, sincere expressions stirred a faint sense of guilt in him, undeniably so.

“Hoo...”

That complicated feeling slipped out as a long sigh.

Jincheon spoke with heartfelt honesty.

“This is not your fault. It’s all... my fault.”

It was his fault.

He had been tempted by the promise of good pay and taken on the job too quickly. He had softened when faced with that man’s sorrowful expression. And he had come all the way to this far-off Mount Giryeon of his own volition.

So, in the end, he had no choice but to take responsibility.

Jincheon let out another long sigh.

The Four Winds and the Twelve Signs lowered their heads even further. Ilyo, the palace maid standing beside him, and the six maids waiting at the entrance of the Grand Hall also bowed their heads in silence.

Their misunderstanding was fortunate for Jincheon.

But the sincerity in their hearts, delivered right before his eyes, only deepened the weight of Jincheon’s guilt.

“...Well, it’s not like that man’s been confirmed dead or anything.”

Jincheon tried to force himself to think positively.

Considering the shameless nature of that middle-aged man, the odds that he was still alive were actually pretty high.

If that turned out to be true, maybe Jincheon wouldn’t have to feel quite so guilty.

“Raise your heads.”

At Jincheon’s command, the Four Winds, the Twelve Signs, and the Seven Luminaries lifted their faces.

Their tightly clenched lips and bloodshot eyes said everything about their state of mind. Among the Seven Luminaries, one already had tears welling up in her eyes.

That sight stabbed Jincheon’s conscience mercilessly, and he couldn’t help but think, “Do I really have to go this far...?”

But he braced himself.

He had to do this.

This was the only way.

Feigning a stern expression, Jincheon said,

“Now return to your posts and fulfill the duties assigned to you. And remember this—your lives have a time limit that is not for you to know, nor you to decide.”

Was it relief? Or lingering guilt?

Jincheon’s voice lacked the force it had carried earlier. If anything, it now sounded drained, even hollow.

Rustle.

The Four Winds and the Twelve Signs bowed their heads once more.

In low, heavy voices, they all responded in unison.

“We shall never forget.”

The vast Grand Hall fell silent once again.

Jincheon looked down at the people bowing their heads toward him.

Somehow, he just felt... tired.

“I will depart for the Central Plains tomorrow. That is all I have to say.”

His mention of “tomorrow” came as a definite surprise to all.

Sixteen shoulders flinched at once, and the four Commanders raised their heads—only to see Jincheon already rising to his feet.

Rustle.

As Jincheon began to walk, the others lowered their heads once again.

Step, step.

Maid Ilyo followed closely behind him, and the six palace maids stationed at the hall’s entrance naturally joined in.

Not a single person rose from their place until Jincheon had completely left the Grand Hall.

****

Step, step.

As he walked through the wide corridor, Jincheon pondered.

“...This’ll be fine, right?”

Declaring he would leave tomorrow was a deliberate move to make things final.

He had to avoid getting bogged down by formalities or procedures—things he had no interest in and that might otherwise try to delay him.

Still, he couldn’t help but question it.

“Just how obsessed do you have to be?”

Their attitude toward the Red Dragon went far beyond overkill.

It had crossed the line ages ago—honestly, it felt like he was being revered by some kind of fanatical cult.

So there was no way they would just let Jincheon, whom they believed to be the “new Red Dragon,” leave that easily.

Especially if they truly believed the previous Palace Master had died a tragic death.

“Still... this excuse will definitely work.”

Who could possibly object to retrieving the remains of a former master?

Didn’t North Wind Commander herself say earlier that it was a noble cause and a rightful decision?

Saying “I’ll leave tomorrow” was perfectly timed, too.

After all, the essence of a surprise attack is to strike when the enemy is caught off guard. There’s even a saying: *“When your neighbor’s house is on fire, steal from them”—*strike when there’s chaos.

But what made Jincheon uneasy was the fact that he knew practically nothing about how things were done here.

Step, step.

“Ilyo.”

“Yes.”

As they walked, Jincheon asked,

“Will I be able to leave tomorrow?”

There might be some unknown procedure he wasn’t aware of.

The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.

Or maybe, by some bizarre law they followed, the Palace Master wasn’t allowed to leave the palace at will.

Come to think of it, hadn’t that man shown some strange reluctance toward Sohongju too?

“Anytime.”

Ilyo answered without hesitation.

“We are ready whenever you are.”

Tap.

Jincheon came to a halt.

The seven maids stopped in perfect sync, and Jincheon asked with a puzzled expression,

“Um... why are you all...?”

His gaze wavered, but Ilyo, with her black hair flowing, remained calm.

“We have already pledged to serve the Red Dragon with our bodies and souls.”

For a moment, a look crossed Ilyo’s face—as if asking, “Do you really not understand that?”—but Jincheon had no time, nor presence of mind, to react.

“Therefore, we of the Seven Luminaries shall fulfill our duty as the Palace’s Seven Attendants, and wherever the Red Dragon goes... we shall follow.”

Placing one hand gently over her heart, she spoke with a solemn dignity.

“We will serve the Red Dragon, even at the cost of our lives.”

It was a dignified declaration—but Jincheon could only stare in alarm.

“Wait—uh, I mean...”

Of course, he hadn’t expected to fly off on his own.

Like that man, he’d need an escort at the very least—and frankly, that was probably safer for him too.

But maids? Seven of them?

“Y-you’re the Seven Luminaries of the Palace, aren’t you?”

Jincheon put deliberate emphasis on the word Palace. “Palace” as in inside the palace—not the outside world.

“So shouldn’t you all stay here and handle your respective duties...?”

“What in the world could possibly be more important than serving the Red Dragon?”

Jincheon’s argument didn’t even register.

“Besides, wherever the Red Dragon resides becomes the Palace itself. Therefore, following and serving you is our duty and rightful task as the Seven Luminaries.”

Ilyo’s eyes gleamed with unwavering conviction.

A beautiful woman with shining eyes was certainly a sight—but to Jincheon, it just felt like running headfirst into a brick wall.

“Uh... just to be sure, have you ever been outside to the Central Plains before...?”

“Never.”

Ilyo answered proudly.

Jincheon looked at her, momentarily thinking “Then how helpful can you really be...”—but then the expressions of the other maids caught his eye.

Even Geumyo, who earlier had looked to him with pleading eyes, and the youngest, Toyo, now sparkled with anticipation.

So did quiet Wolyo, sunny Hwayo with her golden hair, and even bright-eyed Suyo and Mogyo.

“...They’re doing this because of duty, right?”

There didn’t seem to be any way to stop them.

More importantly, they clearly knew far more about local traditions and customs than Jincheon did—any excuse he tried to make would be instantly dismantled.

Unless he gave a direct order forbidding them to follow, they’d come along no matter what.

Hoo...

Jincheon sighed internally.

When a group of lovely young women was openly expressing excitement and devotion to follow him—how could he, who barely ever interacted with women, bring himself to reject them to their faces?

“Mm... fine. For now.”

He meant it as a temporary decision—just to delay the matter—but the maids’ faces lit up at once.

In fact, Mogyo, with her reddish-brown hair, even let out a soft “Kyaa~” in delight.

Jincheon felt a rising sense of dread.

The fewer people that came along, the better.

But if he cut down the group too harshly, who knew what kind of backlash or complications it might cause?

“Tsk. Fine... I’ll deal with it tomorrow somehow...”

If the Seven Luminaries were counted in, more than half his fingers were already spoken for.

Maybe he could put it off for now and find some excuse at the last minute to say they couldn’t come.

What had seemed like a smooth plan was now running into unexpected rocks—and with a bitter heart, Jincheon continued walking.