Chapter 1
A very long time ago, a hole opened in the sky, and rain poured down for three months and ten days.
The heavens turned pitch black, thunder split the earth, and torrents of rain caused the rivers to flood.
Water overflowed, engulfing mountains and the land, until the whole world was nothing but an ocean.
From the gaping hole, monsters began to pour out. They swarmed everywhere, making survival seem impossible.
At that time, a human prayed to the heavens, and nine dragons—each having spent a thousand years dwelling in the earth, mountains, and waters—appeared.
One of them asked the human for a wish. The human asked for land to stand and live upon.
The dragon coiled itself atop the water, and that became a vast stretch of land.
The remaining eight dragons cleared the sky, tamed the weather, and carved channels for the waters.
They also made the sun, nurtured green forests, and soon people began to gather upon that land.
Then, each of the eight dragons chose a human and asked for a wish.
One wished for clear weather, another for fields that would never go barren, another for a comfortable home, another for a lover, another for vast treasures of gold and silver, another for unmatched martial strength, and another for exceptional wisdom.
The last one wished for a nation to rule over.
Right where that person stood, the Kingdom of Ga was founded—a prosperous land blessed by the dragons.
The weather was fair all year round. Fields yielded endless grain, and gold and jewels poured from the mines.
Under the benevolent reign of the Ga King, splendid homes lined the streets. With each wish fulfilled, the kingdom grew richer, and the dragons ascended to the heavens, each with a Dragon Pearl in hand.
However, one dragon fell in love with the king’s lover and refused to ascend.
The king’s worries grew heavier with each passing day.
Eventually, the dragon kidnapped the woman and took her to its cave.
To rescue her, the king set out with a mighty general and a brilliant minister.
“Do you know how they saved her from that wicked dragon?”
The shopkeeper looked up from the book he was reading and asked slyly.
A small-framed man, sorting through books on the bench, wore an indifferent expression.
The story the shopkeeper had just read was the founding myth of the Kingdom of Ga—something no one born here could fail to know.
It also happened to be the very story the man had spent several sleepless nights transcribing.
So of course he knew it.
Whip—
The man waved for the shopkeeper to finish counting instead of babbling nonsense.
But the shopkeeper, engrossed in the tale, kept talking.
“The minister and the general played a big part, you see. The general’s strength was key in finding the cave, while the minister’s wit lured the dragon out.”
The shopkeeper mimicked a storyteller’s gestures, full of exaggeration.
The man crossed his arms impatiently and tapped the floor with his foot.
Finally noticing, the shopkeeper chuckled as if embarrassed.
“Ah, look at me rambling. I was checking for typos and got carried away.”
From his waistband pouch, he began taking out strings of coins.
“One coin, two coins… Oh, and the minister’s trick was quite clever—they say he called out to the wicked dragon in the woman’s voice.”
His counting slowed.
“While the dragon was distracted, the king entered the cave, found the woman, and stole the hidden Dragon Pearl. Without the pearl, the dragon lost its strength and was easily sealed away.”
Drawing out the story, he discreetly pulled a few coins from the bundle and placed them forward.
The man caught it instantly.
Snatch!
A narrow hand darted from the sleeve of his worn robe, blocking the shopkeeper’s view.
“Whoa!”
Startled, the shopkeeper clutched his chest.
In that moment, the man took both the bundle and the coins the shopkeeper had hidden.
One, two, three, four…
Counting them, he found the promised three nyang exactly.
Satisfied, he tucked them away as the flustered shopkeeper protested.
“Come on, it’s not like I wasn’t going to give it to you!”
The man’s half-lidded gaze made the shopkeeper flinch.
This was always how it went—he’d try to distract him with a story, then slip him a little less.
But after five years of copying books, the man had grown immune to such tricks.
“Hah… you’re as sly as that wicked dragon. It’s only a few coins, but when you first came asking for work, you were almost endearing.”
The shopkeeper grumbled. The man ignored him and held out his hand.
When they first met, he hadn’t been “endearing” so much as hopelessly awkward.
The first time he came to the bookshop, the shopkeeper had turned him away on appearance alone.
But the man refused to leave and wrote on the spot.
The neatness of his script made the shopkeeper’s attitude change instantly.
Such calligraphy was rare even here in the capital, Ju-an.
His calculating nature wasn’t entirely unpleasant—it was practical.
He knows I won’t back down. Better to pay me than waste time arguing.
When the man stood his ground, the shopkeeper clicked his tongue and handed him more books to copy.
“Tsk… no point arguing with someone who doesn’t talk back. Here’s a brand-new romance novel. This one’s a sequel to what you copied last time. Check the rest of the books too—they’re all the rage with the ladies lately. Five days should be enough, right? Since the deadline’s short, I’ll pay extra.”
The man nodded.
Perpetually short on money, he needed every coin.
He raised three fingers.
“Yes, yes, I know—two jeon per volume, total of three nyang.”
After years of working together, they could communicate with just gestures and expressions.
Looking pleased, the man wrapped the books in cloth, grabbed a few buns from beside the bench, and hurried out.
The shopkeeper shouted after him.
“There he goes again! Why doesn’t that wicked dragon come and snatch him instead?!”
The insult rang in his ears, but the man turned at the doorway and grinned.
Despite his words, the shopkeeper had never once chased him down.
He’s calculating, but not heartless.
That was why he’d been coming to this shop for over three years—and because he had no other work besides copying.
He waved farewell and left the marketplace.
Taking a roundabout route, he arrived at a small shop—a cloth store.
He bowed to the owner, who was in the middle of haggling with a customer, and stepped inside.
Past the shelves of colorful bolts of cloth stood a large wooden panel.
The man picked up a set of clothes from a nearby box and slipped behind the panel, hidden from view.
First, he checked outside.
Then he loosened his belt, removed his outer robe, then his under-jacket and trousers, revealing a slender frame.
He put on an underskirt, draped a thin silk jacket over his shoulders, tied the sash, and emerged—a woman with her hair in a topknot.
The owner, Cheong-hyang, had just entered and greeted her warmly.
“You can manage just fine on your own now, I see.”
The man—no, the woman—nodded vigorously.
In the first year, dressing herself had been a struggle. Now she was used to it—except for her hair, which was still difficult to do alone.
Smiling apologetically, she bowed her head. Cheong-hyang laughed softly.
“You still look like a young lady, no matter what.”
Cheong-hyang had once been the nursemaid of the woman’s mother, Lady Suk. She had even entered the palace with her when Suk became a royal concubine.
But eight years ago, after Lady Suk’s death, Cheong-hyang left the palace and set up this shop.
For the past five years, she had been helping the young woman—but never without worry.
Cheong-hyang lowered her head.
“Please rise. Someone of your station should not bow so easily.”
She gently straightened her mistress’s shoulders.
The young woman suddenly turned around—she had something for Cheong-hyang.
A snack she had bought on the way.
Cheong-hyang smiled at the offering.
“Hair first, then food. Come, sit here.”
She patted the space beside her.
The young woman hurried over, and Cheong-hyang’s deft hands began to comb her hair, gathering it into a neat coil and securing it with a simple ornament.
Her eyes lingered on the plain hairpin.
Though she lived in the palace, she was clearly under the Queen’s oppression—her life was difficult.
She should have been wearing fine silk robes embroidered with flowers, adorned with ornate pins shaped like butterflies.
If not for that incident…
Cheong-hyang recalled that bright day eight years ago, when Lady Suk and her daughter drank poisoned tea.
“It’s been five years now since Your Highness began coming to the marketplace.”
She tried to speak casually, but seeing the princess’s meager state made her grit her teeth.
The princess was frail from poor nourishment—because of the Queen’s schemes.
By cutting off all financial support, the Queen had forced her into poverty within the palace.
As a young girl—worse yet, a girl of royal blood—she chose to disguise herself as a man.
It was easier for earning money and safer for moving about the city.
At first she had been clumsy, but now she could pass for a refined young scholar.
Even so—
“This is no life for you…”
Cheong-hyang’s heart ached.
She stopped combing, and the princess—Ga-hwa—turned to look at her.
Seeing the sorrow in her expression, Ga-hwa smiled.
Though she lived humbly now, her heart felt lighter.
When her mother had been alive, each day felt like walking on thin ice.
Her mother, favored by the king, had drawn the Queen’s jealousy, which grew sharper each year.
Eight years ago, everything changed.
Her mother was betrayed by a trusted maid and poisoned, and Ga-hwa began to fade from the court’s memory.
She was taken in by her current mother, Lady Yeon of the So-yong rank, who had grown up like a sister to Lady Suk.
Lady Yeon adopted her out of love—but even so, the Queen’s malice did not end.
Multiple assassination attempts left Ga-hwa voiceless.
A deep scar ran along the middle of her throat—earned that day.
Though a doctor saved her life, she lost her voice forever.
The Queen’s interest waned after that.
A childless concubine from a humble family with only a mute adopted daughter posed no threat.
Forgotten, Ga-hwa faded into obscurity as the “mute princess” of Yeonhwa Palace—and that was when she learned to smile again.
Cheong-hyang’s heart ached all the more seeing that smile.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Ga-hwa shook her head—it didn’t bother her.
Still, she decided it was best to leave before her presence made Cheong-hyang even sadder.
She tapped her snack and her mouth in turn, then quickly wrapped up her bundle of books.
Cheong-hyang tried to stop her, but Ga-hwa shook her head again.
The sun was already setting—she still had to buy rice.
If she was late, her maid Eun-dan, who had lent her the clothes, would be frantic.
Bidding Cheong-hyang farewell, Ga-hwa stepped out of the cloth shop.
She had to be back in the palace before the hour of the rooster.
To be continued…
