I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 29: It’s None of Your Business

The air inside the Grand Hall stirred.

Just moments ago, Jincheon had said, “Let it be so.”

That was as good as an order to die—completely at odds with the command he had given that morning: Do not die.

“I dare to ask,”

Spoke the woman known as North Wind.

“Do you truly mean it?”

“I do.”

Jincheon replied.

“From the beginning, it is the clouds that follow the dragon, and the winds that chase the tiger—not the other way around. Would a dragon fail to ascend because clouds are absent? Would a tiger refuse to hunt because the wind doesn't blow?”

It was an intentional metaphor—clouds and winds—clearly aimed at Sapoong and the Twelve Signs.

Jincheon said it without a hint of emotion.

“Whether you live or die—frankly, it’s no concern of mine.”

And in part, he meant it.

What did it matter if someone died at the edge of some faraway world?

Sure, one could make a moral argument, but for Jincheon, strangers from a world utterly disconnected from his own might as well not exist at all.

Even the divine dragons that command wind and clouds meant nothing if they had no bearing on his life. No one cared about them.

So whether these people lived or died—in strict terms—it really had nothing to do with Jincheon.

A flicker passed through North Wind’s eyes.

But Jincheon’s indifferent expression did not waver in the slightest.

Yet those standing within the Grand Hall could not help but be shaken.

Jincheon’s “Whether you live or die doesn’t matter to me” was nothing less than a declaration that “You are nothing to me.”

“...We shall obey.”

North Wind spoke quietly.

Jincheon turned to the scholarly-looking man—the one who had insisted on his own execution.

“And who are you?”

The man slowly closed his eyes... then opened them.

“To a condemned man about to die, a name is...”

“Answer me.”

Jincheon cut him off, as if brushing aside needless words.

The man clenched his teeth, but Jincheon simply waited, unmoved, for his reply.

“...I am Nampoong Commander, Jwahallim.”

“And you?”

Jincheon now looked toward the woman who had called herself North Wind.

She respectfully bowed her head and replied,

“I am North Wind Commander, Neung Gayeon.”

“And...”

“I’m West Wind Commander, Ban Yoye.”

She answered before Jincheon could finish his sentence.

Her soft, seductive smile glinted in her eyes, but Jincheon’s gaze had already moved on.

“And East Wind Commander, Ak Mujin. The four of you have failed to protect your predecessor—you are criminals.”

Jincheon’s voice rang through the Grand Hall like a judge’s sentence.

“And thus, by the laws of the land, I will execute you.”

Slide.

Sapoong and the Twelve Signs—all sixteen—dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

East Wind Commander Ak Mujin did the same.

The very man who had once sworn to live while bearing shame showed no panic, no trembling.

“...We shall obey.”

Their voices filled the hall—calm and steady.

But their shoulders, ever so slightly, were shaking.

Whether from fear or guilt—Jincheon could not say.

North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon spoke with her head still bowed.

“Shall you carry out the sentence now?”

Even though she was speaking of her own death, her voice was calm, as if discussing someone else’s business.

“And why would you ask that?”

Neung Gayeon lifted her head, eyes filled with confusion.

“Just now, you said you would execute us...”

“What judge ever tells the criminal in advance when they will die?”

“...Pardon?”

“The time and the place—none of that concerns you.”

Jincheon’s tone was firm.

“You are criminals. Until the moment I choose to take your lives, you are to remain still and disciplined. You are not to act rashly, nor enter or exit without permission. Even your breathing exists under my leave. Never forget that.”

The sixteen looked shaken.

Had they ever received such a command before?

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Neung Gayeon asked with a troubled expression,

“Then... what of our duties...”

She couldn’t finish.

Because Jincheon furrowed his brow sharply.

“You failed to protect your predecessor. And now you mean to abandon even your responsibilities?”

“N-no. That is not our intent.”

“Then until the day you die, fulfill the duties assigned to you.”

Jincheon said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“And wait—knowing this. That someday, without warning, I may take your lives.”

Neung Gayeon’s eyes shook violently.

So did those of the others who were still bowing their heads.

After all, the Palace Master held the right of life and death.

What Jincheon was really saying was clear:

He had no intention of killing them.

At least—for now.

“Red Dragon!”

Nampoong Commander Jwahallim suddenly cried out and raised his head.

But Jincheon didn’t turn to look at him.

“Ilyo.”

At the sound of her name, the black-haired maid standing at the gate—Sunday, Nanyak—bowed her head.

“Bring it.”

Rustle.

With both hands, Ilyo lifted a small wooden tray and walked forward, crossing through the sixteen still kneeling in the hall without hesitation.

She came before Jincheon, knelt on one knee, and respectfully held up the tray.

On it, sixteen black cords were laid neatly side by side.

‘...Hm?’

Jincheon was momentarily thrown off.

‘Wait—I said something to wear around the neck...’

He had expected some sort of plain necklace or symbolic pendant—but clearly, Ilyo had interpreted it differently.

‘She really just brought cords?’

Even at a second glance, that’s all they were. Slightly wide, black cords—sixteen of them.

Maybe Jincheon had phrased it poorly to begin with.

He had used the example of mourning bands worn on the arm, so perhaps she simply prepared neck cords to match.

‘Ugh.’

But there was no taking it back now. The decision was already made.

Jincheon spoke in a deliberately composed voice, delivering the words he had planned in advance.

“You are criminals sentenced to death, and thus should by right be bound in stocks. However, since you have sworn your loyalty and truth to me, I shall accept this in place of the sword.”

The “sword” Jincheon referred to was the symbolic execution collar—something to be worn around the neck like a restraint.

The idea had come to him from what East Wind Commander Ak Mujin had said that morning—about having already placed a sword upon himself.

It was purely symbolic, but effective enough in making clear who held authority.

And especially for someone like Nampoong, who kept demanding death, this would serve as more than just symbolism—it would break his will.

‘Still... did they really have to be cords?’

Even so, the black cords felt like too much.

It was the sort of thing you might put on a house cat, and Jincheon worried that his attempt to avoid disgrace might end up provoking their resentment instead.

But he couldn’t take it back now.

If he lost momentum here, he’d never even get to the real topic he had planned to raise next.

Jincheon turned his eyes.

“North Wind.”

“Yes.”

North Wind Commander Neung Gayeon bowed her head.

“Take it.”

But she didn’t move.

She didn’t even extend her hand.

‘...What’s this?’

Was she actually going to defy the order?

Jincheon tensed slightly.

Slide.

She stood up.

‘Huh?’

Neung Gayeon slowly approached Jincheon.

He tensed again, but noticed that Ilyo didn’t move at all.

That meant it wasn’t a threat.

Rustle.

Standing before Jincheon, Neung Gayeon slowly knelt down.

With both knees touching the floor, her eyes were now nearly level with Jincheon’s as he sat.

“I accept—willingly.”

Neung Gayeon closed her eyes and lifted her chin.

Her smooth, pale neck lay bare before him.

‘...Wait, she wants me to do it?’

Jincheon glanced over to Ilyo, the maid, but she wouldn’t even meet his eyes.

The hesitation didn’t last long.

‘Ah, screw it.’

He had already committed.

Jincheon picked up one of the cords and reached forward, gently placing it around Neung Gayeon’s pale neck.

He tried not to touch her, but it was impossible not to feel her skin brush against his fingertips.

His fingers trembled just slightly—it was his first time ever putting something around a woman’s neck.

‘...There.’

He managed to fasten the cord.

Worried it might choke her, he tied it as loosely as possible, and knotted it off to the side so it wouldn’t be uncomfortable.

Thankfully, the cord Ilyo had prepared was the perfect length for Neung Gayeon’s neck.

“It’s done.”

At Jincheon’s words, Neung Gayeon opened her eyes and gently brushed her fingers over the black cord around her neck.

Then she bowed deeply in formal thanks.

“Ahem.”

Jincheon, for some reason suddenly flustered, cleared his throat to buy himself a moment.

That was his mistake.

“Ah, the next one—”

But it was already too late.

Behind Neung Gayeon, East Wind Commander Ak Mujin was striding forward without hesitation.

‘Damn it.’

Jincheon did his best not to show it, and fastened a cord around the kneeling Ak Mujin’s neck as well.

His neck /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ was thick, but the cord Ilyo had prepared was especially long.

“It’s done.”

Ak Mujin, with fire in his eyes, gave a deep formal bow.

West Wind Commander Ban Yoye had already prepared herself before the previous one had even finished, and Jincheon knew resistance was pointless now.

‘Even though I clearly said this was symbolic of a restraint... this is how they react?’

Surely, they understood this meant they were being spared for now.

Nampoong Commander Jwahallim’s reaction alone was proof of that.

But still—having a cord tied around their necks like animals, and acting as if they were being honored—Jincheon couldn’t understand it.

He realized again just how fundamentally different their values were from his own.

“Haa...”

A soft, sweet sigh made Jincheon jump slightly.

He was tying the black cord around West Wind Commander Ban Yoye’s neck when she let out the sound.

He quickly finished the knot.

She looked at him with sultry eyes and whispered,

“You could’ve cut my throat right here and now... and I would’ve accepted it.”

Her voice, wrapped in that sigh, was sensual—hauntingly alluring.

But rather than being enticed, Jincheon felt a chill run down his spine.

Because it didn’t sound like a joke at all.

Sending him that smoldering gaze, Ban Yoye descended the dais with apparent regret, and the strict scholar-looking Jwahallim stepped forward and knelt.

He was different from the previous three.

Slide.

Nampoong Commander Jwahallim bowed his head.

Jincheon suddenly realized—

‘I should’ve just done it like this from the start.’

Tying the cord itself wasn’t all that bad.

But at least like this, he wouldn’t have to face someone’s bare neck up close or feel their breath on his fingers.

After Jwahallim tied the cord himself and bowed, Jincheon turned to one of the Twelve Signs, a woman, who stepped forward and knelt.

When their eyes met, her expression was rigid.

“And you are?”

“I am Ja Unjang Yu Hyerin.”

Her voice trembled slightly.

It was the most appropriate response so far, and Jincheon actually felt relieved.

Slide.

Without being told, Yu Hyerin bowed her head.

Thinking thank goodness, Jincheon reached forward—but then stopped.

‘No wait—this angle’s worse!’

Her pale nape, revealed between strands of her hair, felt oddly intimate—too private.

He hadn’t felt this with Jwahallim, but tying a cord around a woman’s neck while she bowed her head somehow felt more uncomfortable.

“...Raise your head.”

“Y-Yes!”

Startled, she quickly lifted her head and shut her eyes tight.

With a weird sense of guilt like he was doing something improper, Jincheon tied the cord around her neck.

Once she bowed and stepped back, the next woman knelt before him without delay.

“I am Chuk Unjang Ji Baanna.”

‘Ji Baanna?’

It was a name Jincheon had never heard before.

But with her blonde hair and blue eyes, it somehow seemed to fit.

“Raise your head.”

He told her, as her bright eyes sparkled.

As he tied the black cord around Ji Baanna’s white neck, Jincheon’s fingers no longer trembled.