San-gyeong’s way of handling missions was to issue a simple message – especially when it came to the emperor. He never bothered to ask for financial support. Why should he? He was unimaginably wealthy, to the point where the very idea seemed absurd.

This staggering wealth and influence didn’t come from nowhere.

First, there was his bloodline.

His father was the Emperor’s younger brother – brilliant in his own right. Though his eccentric nature made him unsuitable for politics, he was a genius at strategy and weapons design. The forge, the skilled craftsmen, the vast wealth that San-gyeong controlled were all legacies from his father’s time.

And there were no siblings to share this legacy with.

His father had been a reclusive idealist, someone who had cut himself off from all family members except the emperor. A die-hard loyalist to the core, his loyalty bordered on obsession.

As a result, San-gyeong grew up in a rare kind of freedom – untouched by the interference of royal elders.

The only person with authority over him was the emperor himself.

And even then, San-gyeong seldom listened.

Second, his mother’s legacy.

She had left him strength, martial skills and rare elixirs. The secret martial arts manuals coveted by the martial arts sects – considered sacred texts – had all been in her possession. Only the Emperor and San-gyeong knew this truth.

To the world, his mother was just a commoner.

Third, San-gyeong’s own achievements.

He had gone to the battlefield from a very young age. Over the years, he had amassed vast amounts of booty and rewards for his service. He had also saved his entire official salary.

He had no one with whom to spend his money, and he had neither the habit nor the interest of spending it on leisure. His wealth went almost entirely into the development of weapons and equipment.

For this reason he was called a bloodthirsty madman, a war madman, a murderer of the nobility.

The fact that such a madman never appeared in public and only served the Emperor made him all the more terrifying.

In any case, for all these reasons, San-gyeong had planned to finance the latest ” fake husband ” mission out of his own pocket, as usual…

-But for the first time, the emperor intervened.

The lavish wedding attire he now wore was one of the results of the Emperor’s interference.

San-gyeong looked at his reflection in the bronze mirror with a less than pleased expression.

The red silk used for the robe was of such rare quality that even nobles would struggle to obtain it. The embroidery, stitched with golden thread by a master seamstress, was like a work of art.

And the ornaments – how exquisite the gems were.

“Looks like ‘Uncle’ really thinks I’m getting married.”

There was no other explanation for the presence of such rare red coral, clearly from the Emperor’s private treasury.

“You are getting married, aren’t you? I may not know all the formalities, but I do know that once you drink the wedding wine in front of heaven and earth, you’re considered husband and wife.”

Iho said, who had overseen all the wedding preparations.

He combed San-gyeong’s hair neatly and placed an elaborate wedding crown on his head.

“Look in the mirror, my lord. Anyone would say you’re a fine bridegroom.”

San-gyeong glanced sideways at Iho, who had his hands on his shoulders, looking into the mirror with him – and bent one of his fingers upwards.

“Ack! You’ll break my hand, my lord!”

“That’s the point. Move it.”

“Why are you like this? It’s not as if I said anything untrue. You may have borrowed a name and a title, but you still have to act the part of a husband. That’s what we call a de facto marriage.”

A smile tugged at the corner of San-gyeong’s lips.

His naturally chiseled features, now adorned with jewellery, exuded an alluring air of cynicism.

“It’s not a de facto marriage. It’s a fraudulent one.”

“Same difference.”

Iho wasn’t one to make a fuss about the truth.

“Hm, since the robe is red, red coral is more appropriate than white jade. His Majesty truly has a discerning eye.”

At that moment, Samho entered the room and frowned.

“Watch your titles during the mission, Iho. And can’t you see the lord is getting annoyed? Relax a little.”

“It is his first wedding. Of course I should do my best. Besides, the ‘Great Lord’ told me to make sure everything is perfect.”

While Iho and Samho bickered as usual, San-gyeong remained silent.

The time was approaching.

Traditionally, the groom would visit the bride’s home, escort her back in a flower-decorated palanquin, and return together. But circumstances had changed the procedure.

He was to ride his horse around Doha and then return to Yeonmowon to fetch the bride who was waiting in the room.

By this time, there was already a lot of noise outside. Thanks to San-gyeong’s extravagant spending, news of the wedding had spread far and wide, and curious onlookers had been gathering since the morning.

Looking out of the window, Iho muttered,

“If we’d known the Sixth Lord was coming, we should have just invited the whole crowd as guests. It’s absolute chaos out there.”

Long-term missions that required blending into a village were always fraught with unpredictable variables – and the sudden arrival of the Sixth Lord was just that. A disruption no one had planned for.

Samho broke the silence.

“With so many people in the procession, it’ll be at least two more *sijin* – four hours – before they get here.”

San-gyeong didn’t answer immediately.

He remained still, his eyes fixed on the leather mask in his hand, now soaked with medicinal ointment.

Lost in thought, he seemed far more focused on what this unexpected wrinkle meant than on the mask itself.

‘It’s not unusual for the Sixth Prince to try and confirm whether a woman from one of those beauty portraits actually exists… but for him to come all the way to Doha? That’s strange.’

Even if he liked the bride-to-be, he couldn’t take her as a concubine. So why come all this way?

The Sixth Prince was the type to live in delusion, with no firm grip on reality – but he was no fool when it came to personal gain. He never did anything that didn’t benefit him.

That was what made this situation so unnatural.

No matter how he looked at it, it was clear that someone had orchestrated this to bring the Sixth Prince to Doha.

And there was only one likely candidate – someone who wanted to tarnish Woo-hye’s reputation at all costs.

“Find out who gave Dan Woo-hye’s portrait to the Sixth Prince and how exactly it got here. It’s probably Seol Mi-hee, so start investigating her side first.”

“Understood.”

With that, San-gyeong applied glue to his face and put on the mask.

His distinct features blurred in an instant, leaving behind a nondescript, forgettable face.

Then, dressed in red robes that fluttered behind him, San-gyeong walked out of the front gate.

***

“All… done, My Lady.”

Hyang-eum said, trying to cool her tear-stained eyes with a hand fan.

“Why are you crying? It’s a happy day.”

Woo-hye replied as she slowly –

Woo-hye slowly turned from where she was sitting and reached out to take Hyang-eum’s hand.

Today, Woo-hye was breathtakingly beautiful – so much so that it was hard to breathe.

A soft pink blush caressed her eyelids, and her full red lips were lusher than a summer peach orchard.

Ryeong-ah, the maid who had assisted Hyang-eum in dressing Lady Woo-hye, couldn’t take her eyes off the woman whose beauty had become the talk of Doha.

It was such a shame that her face would soon be hidden behind a red veil.

Only the groom, Cheong-un, would have the privilege of seeing this breathtaking beauty in its entirety.

As she thought about it, Ryeong-ah was struck by how extraordinary this privilege was.

“You look very beautiful, my lady.”

Ryeong-ah said in awe.

Woo-hye laughed softly.

“It’s just the dress. Clothes make the woman, don’t they?”

The red wedding gown San-gyeong had sent through Iho made Woo-hye look more vibrant than ever.

The silk shimmered with a soft, pearly luster, and the golden embroidery glowed like a phoenix’s radiant flame.

She was adorned with an array of gold jewelry, each piece set with rubies as red as pomegranate seeds, while a pale jade bracelet around her wrist made her fair skin appear even more luminous.

Dressed like this, she radiated the noble elegance of someone born into a distinguished lineage.

Hyang-eum was overcome with emotion again and covered her face with a handkerchief.

It was as if Woo-hye had finally found her rightful place.

Suddenly, Ryeong-ah let out a sigh of regret.

“It is such a shame that something strange had to happen on such an auspicious day. I heard that Master Seok’s group was beaten so badly that they were left tied up with broken bones in the middle of the town square!”

At these words, both Woo-hye and Hyang-eum widened their eyes in shock and raised their heads abruptly.

“What do you mean? Who attacked them?”

“I don’t know who it was. But there was a large piece of paper listing all their wrongdoings, so it seems that some righteous person took justice into their own hands.”

Just the day before, Woo-hye had narrowly escaped harm at the hands of Seok Cheol-won. And now, the very next day, he had been struck down as if by divine punishment.

It seemed too much of a coincidence.

“Do you know what the newspaper said?”

“I don’t remember everything, but I remember one sentence.”

‘If you continue to torment the weak and live in arrogance, the next time I will take your life.’

“I’ve had more than a few moments of concern for these noble sons myself, so I can’t deny that it feels satisfying. I imagine it must be even more so for you… right, my lady?”

Woo-hye nodded dazedly.

Hyang-eum, who had been staring blankly with her mouth agape, suddenly came to her senses and asked,

“So what happened to them? Seok Cheol-won and the others?”

“There is no official word yet – it seems that even the authorities are having trouble deciding what to do. But I heard that all the young masters will be bedridden for at least a month. Especially Master Seok – they say he won’t even be able to use his hands properly.”

“Oh my goodness, heaven has finally intervened!”

Startled by Hyang-eum’s exclamation, Ryeong-ah hurried to look out of the window.

“Don’t say that! Heaven might take offence!”

“So what? It’s the truth. Those demons finally got what they deserved. Ah, it’s such a relief. Isn’t it, my lady?”

At first, Woo-hye had been shocked.

Then she’d felt suspicious.

And now, with a strange mix of emotions, she clenched both hands tightly.

“Yes… They’ve finally been punished.”

She had never believed in Heaven.

Heaven had never been on her side.

But then one person appeared – and began to turn her world upside down.

Woo-hye no longer believed it was a coincidence.

‘Could it be that Seok is confident enough to think that he can get away with it, even if he’s hunted down like a rat?’

She had no idea what kind of person her fiancé really was.

But one thing was certain: when she thought of him, she felt a strange sense of peace.

“Today really is a beautiful day.”

“Yes. It really is a beautiful day.”