Chapter – 100
This Is My Religion
Amang had felt this way for a long time.
This place was indeed a world inside a web novel—but at times, it felt like a space that was seriously alive.
In other words, it felt real.
With her actual physical body already gone, it wasn’t exactly right to argue over what was real and what was fake.
Still, Amang had believed that at least here, she would be able to command all information.
Because this is virtual reality.
Because unlike the Republic of Korea where Amang had lived, this place wasn’t real.
But was that truly the case?
Whenever her sense of reality wavered, Amang clenched and unclenched her palm a few times.
When she heard from Do about Yeonyeong Palace’s past, when that friend who had loved the web novel [The Tyrant’s Youngest Daughter Is Delinquent] had looked at Amang with pity—each time, she was seized by an inexplicable sensation.
Do I really know that much?
Aside from knowing that this world was inside a web novel, Amang was ignorant—she only knew chapter one of [The Tyrant’s Youngest Daughter Is Delinquent].
Normally, only the main characters appear in chapter one, don’t they?
What Amang remembered was the meeting between Princess Amang climbing a tree and Mu-je.
Well, that was something Amang herself had experienced.
The only people who know that are those of Yeonyeong Palace and Jayeom Palace. If anyone spoke of it, Father Emperor would have cut out their tongue. If So Beauty had told Do, the palace maid, her tongue would have been gone.
That meant the words Do claimed to have heard from So Beauty were highly likely to be a lie.
Then how did Do, a laundry-house palace maid, know such details?
It was a truth no one but those involved could have known.
Even Amang herself hadn’t known—enough said.
What on earth is going on?
Truth and lies were tangled together.
Amang had always believed she stood above everyone else when it came to information.
That belief had been neatly proven to be a delusion.
That can’t happen.
Having lived in the 21st century where information surged like waves, Amang knew just how powerful information was.
In a world flooded with fakes, the ability to discern the truth was an essential skill for modern people.
She couldn’t even trust other people’s words.
There was only one thing she could trust.
Records.
“Princess. Is that truly so?”
“Yes. I plan to read every record here today. How fortunate it is that you, Geumjin, have access to the Imperial Archive.”
“However, Princess, the records of the Imperial Palace are originally meant to be confidential.”
“And? Are you planning to defy a princess’s command?”
“…Of course not.”
Amang now stood solemnly before the Imperial Archive.
It was a space filled with countless small and large records of the palace.
If she hadn’t had the key in hand, she would have suffered greatly just trying to get in.
As they walked toward the door, Geumjin glanced back at Amang several times.
What are you looking at?
Hurry up and open the door already!
Time was precious, yet Geumjin moved at an irritatingly slow pace.
Amang was so frustrated she almost wanted to pick him up and carry him over herself.
Though, given Geumjin’s height, that would be quite the feat.
“Isn’t that Lord Geumjin? What brings you here?”
“Please open the Imperial Archive. We wish to view the records.”
“Of course! Please, come in.”
Wow—Minister Geum really passed down one heck of a privilege.
The eunuchs who had been guarding the place like an iron fortress immediately stepped aside the moment Geumjin appeared.
Everyone rushed to open the doors.
Geumjin turned back to Amang again.
“Must you truly see what lies inside?”
What’s with him, acting all grave all of a sudden?
Up until now, Geumjin had always followed Amang’s orders without question.
From the age of ten, when he first became her attendant, up until now—Geumjin had possessed exactly zero sense of self.
So why was he suddenly acting so contemplative?
“Don’t worry. The answers will be in there somewhere. You read a lot, right? Can you speed-read?”
“Of course!”
“Good, Geumjin. I need you. I can’t cover a place this big on my own. I didn’t bring you just because you have the key. I need your help.”
…Okay, that was a lie. She did bring him because he had the key.
But if she coaxed him like this, Geumjin would light up right away.
“…Does Your Highness truly need my counsel?”
“Of course! I’ve always said—you’re my assistant!”
“I will help with all my strength.”
She felt like a bad person.
Seeing Geumjin’s eyes shining so brightly… guilt suddenly welled up.
“What should I look for?”
“Hmm. First, find the entry records of palace maids. No matter how I look at it, that maid named Do seems like the woman who bought the white powder in the market.”
“Yes! I’ll find it at once!”
The Imperial Archive was divided into three main sections.
Compared to three years ago, the records had piled up further, expanding its scale.
It was certainly more organized than before—the Geum family must have put in some effort.
Since they’ll soon have to pass down the post of Grand Historian to Geumjin.
What a strange family.
Handing that honorary post to a concubine-born son instead of a legitimate heir.
…Or was it because it was only an honorary post?
A position with no real power, just enough prestige?
No, that can’t be it. I’m just overthinking.
Amang wanted to believe that.
The three sections were as follows:
Registry of palace servants
Records of the imperial family
Annals of the State of Haewol
Among them, half of the records from before Mu-je’s ascension had been completely burned.
What a temper. He was determined to erase his past entirely.
But who do you think I am?
Amang intended to scrape up even those lost records.
Rolling up her sleeves, she headed briskly toward section two.
Her speed was comparable to Geumjin’s, who had already pulled out a book in section one.
Perhaps the records she sought were connected to Amang herself.
Am I about to face my own past?
There might be more secrets hidden in Yeonyeong Palace!
While examining untitled books, Amang found one volume.
<Registry of Consorts>
It recorded all consorts from the time of Mu-je’s ascension to the present.
Their notable details—and even their children.
The historians really did their jobs thoroughly.
As Amang flipped through the pages, she suddenly stopped.
“Consort Hwa-nyeong, Eun Myo-a. One daughter: Princess Amang.”
…That’s a pretty name.
The record detailed Hwa-nyeong Consort’s family history and the three miscarriages she had suffered.
Her family was wealthy upper-class merchants, famous for trade.
After drinking a medicinal decoction, Consort Hwa-nyeong experienced bleeding. The cause was unknown, but something resembling the form of a fetus came out with it.
The following year, she conceived again, but blisters formed all over her body, and bleeding began.
The royal physician stated it was likely a breech position. Though Consort Hwa-nyeong did not give up, the child was lost for unknown reasons.
Blunt descriptions mixed with vivid detail.
From those short sentences, Amang could feel Hwa-nyeong Consort’s pain.
The Registry of Consorts was incredibly useful.
From it, Amang learned several things:
Empress So Ryeong-a’s family had been loyal subjects since the former emperor’s reign and had aided Mu-je’s rebellion.
Consort Hwa-jeong’s name was strikingly similar to Consort Hwa-nyeong’s. Coincidence?
Many consorts had conceived, but most miscarried quickly.
Given how many consorts had conceived, Mu-je clearly hadn’t been uninterested in his harem.
However, after Amang’s birth, there were no records of any consort conceiving—except for So Beauty.
What happened?
Given Mu-je’s personality, it was highly likely he viewed even childbirth through a political lens.
For a tyrant, why was he so obsessed with strengthening imperial authority?
This wasn’t a tyrant—it was just a diligent emperor with a terrible personality.
“Princess! I’ve found something!”
“Let me see.”
“Look here. I searched through the palace maid registries, but there is no one named Do anywhere. She doesn’t appear in the entry logs either. Are you certain the maid you saw back then was Do?”
“That can’t be…”
Up until now, Amang had formed several hypotheses regarding the death of the current Concubine Hyeon.
Do bought white powder at the market and gave it to the maids of Jak-yak Palace.
The malicious maids of Jak-yak Palace added poison to the powder and passed it to Concubine Hyeon.
Concubine Hyeon applied it to her skin, her health worsened, and she died.
The Jak-yak Palace maids had already been dealt with by Mu-je, and Do could not be found.
Should she go to the laundry house? Would she meet her there?
But how?
Everything felt like it was being denied.
No matter how far she walked, it felt like being trapped on a Möbius strip—always returning to the same spot.
Where had the hypothesis gone wrong?
Why did Concubine Hyeon die?
Who did it, how, and why?
Even now, when she closed her eyes, Concubine Hyeon’s smile flickered before her.
“What should we do now?”
“No. This isn’t the end.”
“Princess?”
“We need to dig deeper. Geumjin, gather more records.”
She couldn’t stop here.
The only way she could access the Imperial Archive was with Geumjin.
If her hypothesis was wrong, she would tear through the records until she got closer to the truth.
Amang’s curiosity always gave birth to persistence.
Heading toward section three, she opened records at random.
She had to see with her own eyes the records from that time—when she had just been born.
At the very least, she needed to know why Mu-je had threatened to cut out tongues for speaking of it.
Why he had been so desperate he might truly carry out such an act.
What kind of secret lay hidden in this palace?
And why had it originated specifically from Yeonyeong Palace?
Something’s off.
Nando, Ahong, Dancheong, So Beauty, Mu-je—everyone seemed to be hiding something.
Even if she didn’t know the details, Amang could keenly sense that distinctive atmosphere.
As she frantically searched through books, she saw a vision of something glowing.
Amid the dark stacks, one single book emitted light.
As if fate itself were calling out—You must read this.
As if possessed, Amang picked up the book.
“Huh?”
At that moment—
Another space unfolded before Amang’s eyes.
It was exactly the same alien sensation she had felt when looking at Hwa-nyeong Consort’s portrait before.
Where is this?
A small mercy from the gods, for an Amang who knew nothing.
A strange palace came into view.
The newly built palace showed no signs of age—clean, splendid, immaculate.
<Yeonyeong Palace>
Young palace maids laughed brightly.
Two lavishly adorned women stood among them.
Surrounding them were six or seven siblings, all appearing quite young.
Inside a gently rocking cradle, a baby wriggled and cried.
“That is…”
It was Amang.
