Chapter – 06.
A Psychology Major Isn’t a Mind Reader… Psychology majors often worked as peer counselors during their school days.
Or they gained various experiences in counseling clubs.
At least, that was true for Amang’s classmates.
‘I’m just not interested in other people’s stories, okay?!’
There were always exceptions.
A person who seemed emotionless and indifferent, yet constantly ended up knowing others’ secrets.
Someone who had terrible memory, but because they forgot everything, people praised them for being “tight-lipped.”
That was the spirit dwelling inside Amang.
‘They’re the ones who come to me to talk, so why are they acting like this?’
It was painful, knowing people’s deepest secrets by accident.
And when someone cried their heart out, you couldn’t exactly say, “Hold up, stop!”
There was no choice but to listen.
“Is it the girl?”
A similar situation had arisen again.
But this time, the other party was a deranged tyrant who killed people on a whim!
Amang looked at Wuze with pure, innocent eyes.
Tilting her head, she maintained a ‘I don’t know anything’ expression.
Anyone else would’ve fallen for it.
Anyone else… human, that is.
“Did you not say at the lecture hall, ‘Oh dear, Father must’ve been having a hard time’? Should I assume I misheard?”
“…No, Your Majesty.”
Amang screamed internally.
‘This isn’t just bad—this is catastrophic.’
Today, Wuze’s red eyes gleamed ominously.
His blood-colored gaze made Amang swallow hard.
‘If I slip up, I might have a funeral tonight.’
He didn’t need a sword—an emperor’s command was more lethal than any blade.
As for Myeong, a court lady, she could be sent away somehow, but this was the emperor.
A cruel and vicious tyrant at that.
Heavens above, what trial is this for a person who’s lived a decent life?
‘I’m not a mind reader! How am I supposed to know what’s going on with you?!’
Whenever she said she majored in psychology, people’s eyes lit up.
Then can you guess what I’m thinking? — She’d heard this nonsense for four years.
‘Psychology = mind reading? And the person thinking that happens to be my father?’
Amang suppressed the sigh threatening to escape.
If you stay calm even in a tiger’s den, you’ll survive—wasn’t that the saying?
She had studied the theories thoroughly, practiced the skills repeatedly.
She had even conducted short sessions with real clients!
‘I need an assessment.’
With limited information about Wuze, Amang decided to do what she could.
She recalled a simple test that didn’t require checklists.
Sentence Completion Test.
Let’s go for it.
Whether it would work… that was the problem.
“Then please answer the questions I ask you, no matter what.”
“What scheming are you up to now?”
“What kind of person was Your Majesty’s father?”
The tea and snacks hadn’t arrived yet, but the second counseling session had begun.
Wuze sat on the bed, lightly brushing the pillow.
He didn’t answer.
“Father?”
“Why does that interest you?”
Amang hid her clenched fist inside her sleeve.
Endure.
Seriously, endure.
‘You’re the one who wants counseling, you bastard!’
Her fist trembled, but she forced a bright smile.
Eyes curved sweetly, she selected her next line.
“I’m curious about everything regarding my royal father! Please, do tell me?”
…In the end, she had to grovel.
‘Why am I suffering like this at my age?’
In all the doting-father novels she’d read, whining and acting cute usually worked.
Even cold-blooded men would melt at this.
Amang endured the mortification and waited for Wuze’s reaction.
“Revolting. Do not do that again.”
“…Pardon?”
“Ask politely. Now.”
This man was no pushover.
Resting his chin on the edge of the bed, he looked bored—
as if he wanted something stronger.
‘This doesn’t work? Seriously?’
Normally, everyone caved at this point.
The more she knew him, the more bizarre he became.
Amang kneeled formally and spoke.
“Please tell me about Grandfather.”
Only then did Wuze smile in satisfaction.
He crooked his finger.
‘What am I, a puppy?’
Amang stood and approached him.
When their eyes met, Wuze whispered in her ear.
“I cannot tell you.”
After delivering the absurd answer, he chuckled.
‘Should I kill him?’
At this level, even treason would be justified.
Amang ground her teeth.
‘Get a grip. I’m a princess. Maintain dignity.’
She very much wanted to keep her head attached to her neck.
Time to use her half-baked social skills.
“What kind of person was Mother?”
“Mother?”
“Concubine Hwah-Nyeong.”
Wuze’s gaze faltered for a moment.
He returned to his arrogant expression quickly, but Amang caught the slip.
‘That’s it!’
No matter how domineering a person was, if you pressed on their emotional wounds, something always surfaced.
Cold toward his father, endlessly weak toward his departed concubine.
‘Delicious.’
If she saw this as a drama, she would have binge-watched it instantly.
Shame it was her life.
Amang shook her head and refocused.
“I have no memories of my mother. What kind of person was she?”
“……”
“Surely the only person I can honor as mother now would be the Empress, yes? Please forgive my discourtesy.”
“Nabi.”
“…Pardon?”
“She was a butterfly.”
A surprising answer.
So even a tyrant carried a tender love?
Amang blinked.
“A woman who always fluttered nearby yet could never be caught.
A woman who made one wish to become a flower.”
It sounded… incredibly romantic.
‘He loved her.’
No matter how she looked at it—backflips, somersaults—this was pure devotion.
Embarrassing devotion, but devotion nonetheless.
“Did you love her?”
His gentle eyes sharpened instantly.
Just a single question, and he turned feral.
‘What did I do now?!’
It was unfair enough to make her jump.
What kind of man glared like that at such a cute little child?
A shiver ran down her spine.
“Love? How could such a thing exist. You are still young.”
“I am ten years old.”
“Then should your father teach you?”
His hand slid around her shoulder softly.
A large palm cupped her small cheek.
His thumb trailed from her nose to just beneath her eye.
It drew close—so close it could poke her eye.
Amang’s lips went dry.
“Your Majesty.”
“Ah, the tea is here.”
The sound of a tray being set on the table filled the room.
Wuze rose to inspect the refreshments.
Amang could not stand.
Her legs trembled violently.
‘What was that just now?’
Her scalp tingled.
She hadn’t blinked—she saw it all clearly.
His thumb had stopped right before her eye.
She had nearly lost one.
‘Was he trying to scare me?’
Any ordinary child would’ve collapsed in tears.
This was a test.
If she acted like a mere child, Wuze would lose interest.
‘And I wanted to live quietly!’
Too late now.
“Amang. What are you doing? Come. This looks delicious.”
What reaction would be best?
Most children would be terrified.
Pale and trembling before him.
‘So do the opposite!’
She could not show even a hint of fear.
Men like him twisted everything to their advantage.
Amang smiled and sat in front of him.
“Father, the candied kumquats are delightful. Please try one.”
Not a trace of fear.
Was she mature—or had she simply lost her sense of danger?
Wuze sipped tea and set the cup down.
“Very well. So how is my condition? As you said—‘greatly troubled’?”
Petty, petty man.
The emperor of a nation, bothered by what a ten-year-old said!
She realized his earlier act was all for intimidation.
Basically—
Run your mouth, lose an eye.
Amang watched the steaming tea and smiled.
“Father, once is hardly enough to know. No need to rush. More time would be best.”
“Is that so? Then I shall visit Yeonyeong Palace once a week. Since the royal physicians cannot diagnose my ailment, you shall do so, yes?”
She never agreed to that.
‘This guy is the emperor?’
She feared for the future of the nation.
If only she had strength, she would have staged a rebellion immediately.
But this body was far too small and frail.
‘I need to build stamina.’
A healthy body made for a healthy youth.
Having lived in an unlucky, creaky adult body before, she knew well the value of fitness.
“Well then, a wager. Three chances. If you cannot deduce my condition within those three…”
Wuze shoved the table aside and lifted Amang into his arms.
She looked up from his lap.
“…the court lady of Yeonyeong Palace will disappear without a trace.”
Amang’s gaze shot to Nan.
As Wuze rose abruptly, the princess toppled off his lap.
“Princess!”
Nan, unaware of the gravity of the situation, grabbed her shoulders.
Wuze’s cold gaze lingered briefly on Amang before leaving the palace.
Three chances. The price: Nan’s life.
He meant to take away everything she cared about.
To bind her permanently to Yeonyeong Palace.
He wouldn’t even bother if she got caught up in palace intrigue.
Amang bowed her head.
Her shoulders trembled.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to Nan.
The result was already decided.
Amang was smiling brightly.
