San-gyeong let out a heated sigh.

‘It really was like that…’

The more flowers bloomed, the more intense the madness became – impulsive, instinctive and violent.

The emotional turmoil he’d felt in the bridal chamber was probably a symptom as well.

Otherwise, there was no reason for his unshakable composure to be shaken.

‘Lately, my mood swings have been getting worse and I’ve been acting more and more impulsively. I almost killed Seok Cheol-won… this is serious.’

Was it the new environment that had affected his mind?

Or had his marriage, which he had fought so hard against, destabilised his inner balance?

Maybe it was the guilt – something he hadn’t fully acknowledged – that shook him every time he looked at Woo-hye.

Not only had he failed to protect Joo-hyuk’s younger sister, he’d gone so far as to dishonour her himself.

‘To make matters worse…’

San-gyeong remembered the moment when she had looked at him with unwavering certainty and said.

“I like you, husband.”

“…Ha.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

A sudden wave of guilt swept through his chest.

His heart felt tight, his stomach churned.

‘Am I reaching my limit?’

San-gyeong was like a firework with the fuse already lit.

It was just a matter of time before it exploded.

“At this rate, you’ll reach twenty flowers in less than six months.”

He secretly wished that San-gyeong would just give in and sleep with Woo-hye like the emperor wanted.

But San-gyeong said nothing. He just put his clothes back on.

This was the kind of man San-gyeong had always been –

the kind who would break rather than bend.

Uncompromising to the end.

A stubborn loyalist who constantly clashed with the emperor.

A headache.

A stubborn fool.

There had even been a time when the Emperor, forgetting all propriety, had flung his inkstone at him, shouting.

“You stubborn bastard!”

“What’s the Sixth Prince doing?”

Iho, well aware of how unyielding San-gyeong could be, swallowed a sigh and replied.

“He is in the guest wing, greeting the local noble families of Doha. Dan Gyu-yeong and the Gyeon siblings are with him.”

The proud noble clans…

The proud noble families of Doha did not regard Woo-hye as one of their own. From the outset, they had no intention of attending the wedding.

This decision was sealed by an incident that had taken place that very morning.

Seok’s son and the other young lords had all been publicly humiliated.

What’s more, everyone knew that they had been harassing Woo-hye, following her and making advances.

Out of pride, these noble clans would never have shown their faces at this wedding.

But with a royal prince in attendance, they had no choice but to make an appearance.

San-gyeong nodded slightly and gave his next order.

“Bring out all the liquor. I want them drunk enough to prevent them from doing anything stupid.”

Due to the effect of the twenty-four dream blossoms, alcohol no longer affected San-gyeong.

He could only get drunk after neutralising the toxins in his body.

‘Neutralisation…’

Just the thought of the method made his stomach churn and he pressed his fingers tightly against his furrowed brow.

The wave of disgust nearly broke his composure, so he forced himself to calm down.

‘If I’m alone with Dan Woo-hye again in this state… it could become a problem.’

A groom sleeping in another room on his wedding night was perfect fodder for gossip.

In fact, it was completely unthinkable for newlyweds to sleep apart.

He realised now that he’d been arrogant.

Deep down, he had always believed that he was different from other men.

Only now did he see how foolish that pride had been.

As he opened the door to step outside, he saw someone enter the inner quarters.

“My lord, wasn’t that Doctor Mokcheon just entering the bridal chamber?”

And then another person followed him inside.

Although he couldn’t see clearly, he could guess who it was.

Gayu, the co-manager of Pungwoo Pavilion.

San-gyeong’s eyes narrowed.

Mokcheon, as a doctor, was understandable.

But Gayu? His behaviour was inexcusable.

It was shameful for a man to enter the bridal chamber where only the bride remained.

“Samho, keep an eye on her.

Iho, check the banquet hall – make sure no one from Pungwoo is hiding there.”

“Understood.”

“Wait.”

Before Samho could start to carry out the order, San-gyeong stopped him.

“Watch them from as far away as possible.”

“If we stay this far back, we won’t be able to hear their conversation inside. Is that all right?”

“Yes. There’s no need to take unnecessary risks.”

Mokcheon was no ordinary doctor.

“Wimukyeon is a master of poison and concealed weapons. His range is long, if we approach him carelessly, we’ll be at a disadvantage. Be careful.”

Wimukyeon was the original name Mokcheon abandoned when he left his family long ago.

He was once the young heir of the Yeongcheon Wi clan, known for his mastery of poisons and stealth weapons.

There was a time when he was nicknamed the Poison King of the martial world for his innate talent.

As Mokcheon was considered the most dangerous individual in this operation, Samho nodded seriously.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Everyone to your positions.”

At San-gyeong’s command, the group dispersed.

Leaving the secluded room behind, he made his way to the banquet hall where a troupe had just finished a loud and lively performance.

As San-gyeong greeted the guests and made his way to the guest wing, he found the Sixth Prince’s quarters to be quiet and elegant.

In one corner, a musician – quickly arranged by Iho – was playing the geum (zither), while the beautiful maids the Sixth Prince had brought with him moved gracefully about the room.

“Oh, the bridegroom has finally arrived. Come in, come in.”

The noble families looked at San-gyeong with disdain in their eyes.

It was only natural – they had all heard the rumours of how disgraceful and unworthy Cheong-un was.

‘Pathetic.’

To him, Cheong-un and these nobles were all of the same race.

With a calm expression, he bowed respectfully.

“Thanks to His Highness’ generous understanding, I was able to take care of my wife.”

His manners were impeccable.

The nobles, who had been eagerly waiting to mock the low-born merchant, now had nothing to criticise.

They drank in silent disappointment.

The Sixth Prince personally called San-gyeong to sit beside him, in the seat closest to his own – his way of honouring the bridegroom.

“Come, sit here.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The Sixth Prince didn’t know much about Cheong-un.

But the Taesang did.

‘A vulgar merchant obsessed with money – that’s what I thought. But he’s more dignified than I expected.’

Come to think of it, Woohye – who was said to have been blind as a child – had also shown remarkably refined manners.

‘Perhaps the old lady of her household, said to be a long-time friend of Her Majesty the Empress Dowager, taught her court etiquette.’

Etiquette wasn’t very important, so it had been put aside.

What really mattered was Woo-hye’s beauty.

“With such a famous bride – known as an incomparable beauty even in Akyang – it must have been difficult to leave the bridal chamber,” the Sixth Prince remarked.

Gyu-yeong’s expression twitched slightly at his words.

Ever since Woo-hye’s portrait had circulated in Akyang, Seol Mi-hee’s daughters had been the subject of unwanted humiliation.

“They say the sisters of the ‘Doha Fairy’ must be great beauties too!”

“Oh, come on. How could they possibly look alike when they have different mothers? The second young lady’s birth mother was none other than Na Ryeo-eun—once praised as the most beautiful woman in the nation. People decided Woo-hye was the most beautiful of the Dan sisters based on a single photograph.”

Gyu-yeong, now considered the lesser beauty, could not bear the shame.

Portraits are often embellished. Of course, this had to be true of Woo-hye as well – there was no way she could look better in person.

And even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.

‘I’ll make sure she never dares to act haughty with that pretty little face again.’

As the wine flowed, the mood quickly became festive.

One drink to celebrate the wedding.

One for a successful settlement in Doha.

One because the flowers were in bloom.

Another because the breeze felt good.

With each glass raised, heads began to drop.

Gyu-yeong and Jarim had already retired to their designated guest rooms, and the nobles, thoroughly drunk, were escorted home by their servants.

The Sixth Prince also collapsed from the strong liquor, leaving only San-gyeong and Mujin continuing the toast.

Mujin was a man from a good family, well-educated and well-mannered.

For this reason, Mujin had been unable to refuse Seol Mihee’s request to accompany Gyu-yeong to keep her from getting out of hand – and so he ended up attending the wedding of his former fiancée.

“Once again, congratulations on your wedding, Lord Cheong-un.”

“The honour is mine. Thank you for coming, Lord Gyeon.”

Mujin smiled awkwardly and took a drink after San-gyeong had emptied his own cup.

He’d been drunk for a while and now that everyone else had either passed out or left, it was time to wrap things up.

Something was bothering Mujin, and encouraged by the alcohol, he brought it up.

“Lord Cheong, please don’t mind that I was once engaged to Woo-hye…”

Before he could finish, San-gyeong put his cup down on the table with a sharp clink.

“I don’t mind. So it’s best not to mention it.”

“Ah… I’m sorry if I offended you.”

Mujin had once found Woo-hye quite endearing – and

and he had been close friends with her older brother Joo-hyuk.

That was why he brought it up now – worried that San-gyeong might have misunderstood his presence at the wedding.

San-gyeong hadn’t misunderstood Mujin’s intentions.

But the fact that Mujin had said something like that could damage Woo-hye’s reputation.

So he’d deliberately shut him down as a warning.

People, even if they pretended otherwise, watched with curiosity.

They were pleased to see poor Woo-hye, who had lost her engagement to someone as well-born and handsome as Mujin, now supposedly humiliated.

The slightest opening and she’d be branded as a woman still pining for her ex-fiancé.

San-gyeong wouldn’t let that happen. He cut it off at the root.

“Doha is especially beautiful at this time of year. If I’m to take my sister-in-law out to see the blossoms, I should rest – and so should you, Lord Gyeon.”

Mujin was a clever man. Even though he was drunk, he understood San-gyeong’s real message: stay away from Woo-hye.

“Yes. I think you’re right, Lord Cheong-un.”

Mujin, gentle by nature, stood up with a slightly wobbly smile, taking no offence at San-gyeong’s cold tone.

It was finally time to end the meeting.

San-gyeong called to the waiting servants outside.

“Clean up inside. Escort His Highness the Prince to his quarters.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And Sa-ho, you will escort Lord Gyeon to his guest room.”

“Understood.”

San-gyeong and Mujin exchanged polite bows and then went their separate ways.