Chapter 772: Bloodline (6)

Shock: Ximen Qing’s true identity was Princess Yeonsul!

“Head Court Lady Jo, see for yourself. In this whole world, is there any other grown woman of marriageable age who would lounge on top of her own mother in such a shameless pose?”

Qing felt wronged.

Who was it that forced me down and made me use her lap as a pillow, and then says that?

Head Court Lady Jo, on the other hand, had just received a great revelation.

Even if Her Ladyship had forced her to lie down, the way Qing lay there slack and utterly at ease, as if this were her own room, said everything.

And over that sprawled figure, countless scenes from the past overlapped with striking clarity.

Head Court Lady Jo blinked.

“Is it truly... Your Highness Yeonsul?”

“I told you again and again, did I not? That I found that woman wearing Yeonsul’s face suspicious. Now, when I went to offer prayers, through the great mercy and compassion of the Buddha I have thus recovered my daughter.”

Back then, Head Court Lady Jo had thought Her Ladyship was merely not in her right mind.

In recent years, the Empress had shelved the “fake Yeonsul” theory and stopped cursing the witches from the Heavenly-Maiden Temple, so Head Court Lady Jo assumed she’d finally regained her clarity.

It turned out not that she had let it go, but that she had found the real Yeonsul—and was instead grinding a cold blade in her heart.

That realization made Head Court Lady Jo’s heart lurch.

Who had been the one to, on the Empress’s behalf, brazenly insult the martial world temptress who had dared seduce the Crown Prince?

Head Court Lady Jo prostrated herself flat.

“Your Ladyship, I have committed a capital crime! I carelessly wagged my tongue without knowing any of this. Ahhh...”

“Oh, it’s all right. You did it all for Her Ladyship’s sake...”

“Please cut out this one’s tongue and sew this one’s mouth shut!”

“That seems a bit extreme...”

“It is only because this one’s heart is not at ease. If Your Ladyship would instead beat this one with a rod, I will bring a whole armful of switches and beg you to strike me severely.”

Qing thought, Huh.

Going from cutting out her tongue and sewing her mouth to a rod beating was... a big swing.

Like the difference between life imprisonment and suspended sentence.

Just then, the Empress stepped in to stop Head Court Lady Jo.

“That is enough. You know perfectly well what Yeonsul’s temperament is like. Do you think she is the sort to take revenge? Child, does nothing come to mind? This is the Head Court Lady Jo who always snuck you snacks behind Lady Deokseong’s back. Didn’t you leap up the moment you heard even her footsteps?”

“Oh, so that was you...”

Just what kind of princess was Yeonsul, exactly?

If you can recognize the snack-bringer’s footsteps and spring up at once, that’s not a princess, that’s—well, that’s what dogs do. Straight-up dog behavior.

“Good heavens, Your Highness Yeonsul. To think you’ve grown so beautiful, and yet that old face of yours is still there exactly as it was...”

Head Court Lady Jo wiped at the corners of her eyes.

Judging from everyone’s reactions, Yeonsul had been very dearly loved.

“Now, do you understand why I so firmly oppose this marriage?”

“Marriage, Your Ladyship? You mean— Oh, how outrageous. How can such a thing exist in this world? It must not be, how can such a grotesque, monstrous thing happen in broad daylight...!”

Head Court Lady Jo stamped her feet.

“When I learned the truth, I did feel one great burden lift, but I still cannot calm myself. I must raise my opposition higher, make it more forceful, or else His Majesty will never give up that blind stubbornness of his, where he sees nothing before his eyes when he decides something. And in such a moment, my heart went blank and I ended up calling you here like this. Ah, Yeonsul. What am I to do...”

The Empress pressed and rubbed Qing’s head, fingers sinking into her hair, voice thick with regret.

So.

This unbelievable “reward”—this forced marriage that made her skin crawl just imagining it, what kind of dogshit is this—

In any case, it meant Her Ladyship had to keep sending a clear, emphatic signal that she absolutely opposed it, utterly opposed it, vehemently opposed it, if they wanted to stop it.

Honestly, Qing wasn’t sure how the Empress could oppose any harder than she already had.

She’d declared her opposition as plainly as anyone could, and on top of that, she’d actually collapsed while opposing it.

The problem was that a mother who’d just heard her daughter was terminal had woken up, pushed every other problem aside, and called Qing in.

...Was that really a problem, though?

On the way here, everyone watching them had worn the same expression—eyes shining with malicious delight, clearly thinking, She’s going to get humiliated so badly.

Head Court Lady Jo’s entire demeanor toward her had been like handling a condemned prisoner.

Everyone’s “serves her right” look had screamed mother-in-law from hell summoning her daughter-in-law.

Like one of those toxic mother-in-law summons scenes from a train-wreck drama back home.

In that case, it shouldn’t be a problem at all, should it?

Qing put it that way.

The Empress’s expression turned fierce, and Head Court Lady Jo dropped to her knees again in a small flurry, but that passed quickly.

This was no longer somebody else’s problem—it was hers—so Qing put forward her opinion actively.

“If that’s how it looked, why not go a step further and actually make it that way?”

——

The next day, shocking news shook the entire Forbidden City.

It became the talk of Chang’an among the maids, the kind of horrifying news that made you shudder just hearing it.

The young hero Ximen Qing had been summoned to Her Ladyship the Empress in the middle of the night—

—and had been given five strokes of the switch!

Someone from Qing’s homeland might have tilted their head and gone, Huh. That’s it?

Only five strokes. What’s so horrifying and shocking about that?

That would’ve been underestimating just how “wide” everything ran in the Central Plains—everything except their hearts.

What did “five strokes of the switch” mean in Central Plains terms?

It did not mean you were hit with a switch a measly five times.

It meant they beat you with the switch until five switches had broken.

On top of that, the switch was a punishment that made all the women of the Forbidden City physically recoil.

Not only was the pain itself brutal, it was a fearsome punishment that destroyed a woman’s dignity and made her soul sick.

Because the switch was used on your bare backside.

And what sense would it make to punish someone’s exposed butt and then cover it?

Naturally, they struck the naked buttocks, and to keep you from hiding it under a long top, they stripped you completely and beat you.

They usually did this kind of beating like it was some fun spectacle, summoning everyone around to watch. So the pain was one thing, but as for the humiliation—there was nothing as shocking.

Among the Forbidden City’s infamous discipline methods for maids—pinching, needle-pricks, dumping work on someone, pouring an entire meal into one bowl and making them eat it like slop, depriving them of sleep, and so on—

As the saying goes, simple is best, and among all those, the switch ranked as one of the most dreaded punishments.

Only then did Qing understand that Head Court Lady Jo hadn’t been trying to dramatically reduce her own sentence out of mercy.

If you’re volunteering to bring an armful of switches, your resolve is not ordinary. Qing had just misunderstood.

At any rate, while this rumor was still spreading like wildfire, another shocker dropped.

Her Ladyship the Empress had given the young hero Ximen Qing the use of Hambok Palace in the Western Six Palaces, ordering her to live there outright.

She said there was no need for morning greetings, but that Qing should be there each night so she could “check her sleeping arrangements”—and meanwhile, the maids of Changchun Hall were tearing through the entire Forbidden City collecting every last switch they could find.

Hambok Palace stood directly behind Changchun Hall, which meant she would have Qing practically under her arm and had essentially declared she intended to beat her with the switch every night.

So much so that—

“I don’t think I could endure that long to become a Noble Consort. No matter how favored I was, honestly.”

“Wow, then you can relax. With that face, there’s no way you’d become a Noble Consort even if Heaven and earth flipped, so congratulations.”

“Why does this bitch talk so sweetly? Is that her way of saying she wants to die?”

Things had reached the point where people were actually pitying the Heavenly Flower Sword.

Becoming Crown Princess was every maid’s dream and hope, and the envy and hatred aimed at an outsider like the Heavenly Flower Sword, who’d suddenly snagged that spot, were incredible.

And yet they were now saying they felt sorry for her. That alone showed how horrific the news sounded.

Then, when the broken remains of five switches were seen tossed out that very night, all the They wouldn’t really go that far... would they? worries became reality.

According to the maids of Changchun Hall, the SMACK SMACK of the switching had been so sharp and chilling that they’d been too creeped out to sleep.

This was the sound:

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

Faintly audible if you pressed your ear and listened very carefully, even through the thick soundproofing of Changchun Hall.

If it was that clear even with how quiet Central Plains nights were, then surely her backside had been shredded to the point of rotting right off.

It was enough to keep the maids tossing and turning all night, just imagining it made their guts go cold.

And the reality was this:

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

Head Court Lady Jo brought the switch down with all her might.

It was not a thing to be doing on a summer night—she was drenched in sweat, panting heavily with every swing.

“Um, I could do it myself, you know.”

“Now, now. Head Court Lady Jo must put in at least this much effort if my heart is to feel at ease. Here. Ah...”

“You are right, huff, Your Highness Yeonsul. Since this foolish one ran her mouth, huff, is it not only fitting that I atone with labor of this degree... huhh, I am ashamed...”

While Head Court Lady Jo was busy pitying the poor floor she was beating—

“Your Ladyship, that one, I can eat—”

“Now, now.”

“Ahhh.”

A neat wedge of watermelon slid into Qing’s mouth.

CRUNCH CRUNCH. A cool slice of watermelon on a summer night—what greater treat could there be?

And with the palace’s refrigeration system—fresh ice managed by eunuchs who cultivated Ice-based arts—the watermelon was unimaginably sweet and delicious.

Watermelon was also a top-tier luxury fruit in the Central Plains.

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!!

“Here.”

“Ah, I eat the seeds too, actually.”

“Child. I have told you countless times that fruit seeds are harmful. Don’t swallow them carelessly. Here, ahhh. Spit the seeds out.”

“Ahhh.”

As Qing felt the Empress’s palm so close to her lips she could feel its warmth—Mm. This atmosphere is really not it. If I slack off like I did back at Priestess Order Temple, I’m going to go completely limp again...

But Qing had no veto power here.

So there was nothing for it but to let the watermelon seeds pop out of her mouth and rattle onto the august Mother of the Nation’s palm.

“Good girl. You always found spitting out watermelon seeds so annoying. Yet somehow, you have never once choked on a seed even while lying down.”

“Huff, that has always been so, huff. Why, there was once, huff, you fully lay down and huff this humble one had to feed you your meal, huff, do you remember?”

How could I remember any of that. And what kind of person are you, exactly, that you lie there and get someone to feed you.

At first, Qing had thought this princess Yeonsul was refreshingly un-princess-like—easygoing, affectionate, like some perfectly drawn “good-hearted, plucky heroine” from a drama.

But the more she learned, the more ridiculous it got.

Is this a person or some kind of beast.

Well. More pressing—

Qing rolled her eyes.

I really can’t let myself get pulled along by this warmth.

I have to say it: I am not your daughter, and I don’t intend to live as your daughter.

But in this mood, how was she supposed to open her mouth and say it?

Once Head Court Lady Jo had broken five switches, Qing would at last slip—reluctantly released—from the Empress’s arms and head straight out the back door, returning to Hambok Palace.

There, Gabiya, who’d been pacing back and forth in the courtyard, craning her neck and waiting, would rush over like a bolt and latch onto her.

“Sniff, Your Ladyship, are you all right? You must let me apply perfumed oil at once. It helps disperse the lumps and swelling and relieves the pain...”

“No, seriously, I’m fine.”

There was nothing to apply to a perfectly fine backside.

“Lady Deokseong and Haeryu—how can they not even pretend to step in when Your Ladyship suffers such humiliation... I am so worried I can’t do a thing, but everyone else acts like they don’t care...”

Lady Deokseong and Haeryu both thought Qing was Yeonsul, so “switches” her ass— they just assumed she was having a cozy time with Her Ladyship.

Only Gabiya, not knowing, was tying herself in knots.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m a master. Getting hit by a sword only leaves a scratch at this point. A little switching is nothing, whether it’s five strokes or a hundred.”

“Even so, but even so, how—how can this be, Your Ladyship. My poor lady, how pitiful you are...”

Somehow, Qing just kept ending up feeling guilty toward Gabiya.

The girl was too anxious to even play at being fatally seductive anymore.

Still, if she kept faithfully performing the role of the daughter-in-law who gets beaten, she’d be able to go home before long.

No one could seriously still insist on making her Crown Princess after seeing this.

The whole thing had supposedly begun as a reward for defeating the Minor Water Witch. If they pushed it through under these circumstances, it would be a punishment, not a reward.

“I’m fine. Yaaawn. Let’s just go sleep.”

“Could we perhaps have a Heavenly Maiden examine your injuries before you sleep? Please?”

Qing steered Gabiya by the shoulders toward the inner room as she soothed her.

“I said I’m fine. If you really insist, the Imperial Physician is coming to take my pulse tomorrow, isn’t he? I’ll ask him then whether I can keep taking beatings or not.”

“‘Whether you can keep taking beatings’—what kind of thing is that to say...”

It was not, in any way, a reassuring answer.