Born As The Daughter of a Lowly Concubine - Chapter 64

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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I was born as the daughter of a lowly concubine.
Episode 64
When I stepped into the thatched house where Min Sang-gung lived, she couldn’t lift her head, embarrassed by the meager state of her dwelling. Seeing her like that made me feel a little sorry too.
In truth, I had considered bringing some of the people who had served my birth mother.
‘But I already had so many Gung-nyeo attending me that it seemed awkward to add more.’
Having many attendants reflected one’s authority within the palace, and as one of the few members of the royal family living within its walls, I was not poorly staffed.
Besides, with the current system already established, I decided against bringing in new people—it seemed it would only make things harder for those already in place.
Unless they were concubines, whenever someone of equal or higher rank joined, those already there would find themselves relegated to a lower position.
Ga-i and Song Bi held the highest rank in my Residence, but since neither had yet been elevated to the rank of Sang-gung, Min Sang-gung’s arrival would make them subordinates to this newcomer—like a rolling stone displacing those in its path.
Truth be told, I should have had a wet nurse Sang-gung and a nursemaid Sang-gung, but because I had suffered from so many incidents and accidents since childhood, I developed severe trust issues and grew reluctant to assign new people to my service, leaving me without attending Sang-gung.
As a result, the two of them were performing the roles of Sang-gung in practice.
When I was first appointed as Princess, a new Sang-gung should have been assigned to me, but I was hovering near death’s door at the time, and even after waking, I remained sickly for a long while, so everyone seemed to think I might not live much longer anyway. With my birth mother gone, poison consumed, and my health fragile, no one thought it wise to thrust a stranger upon such a child. It seems they simply let the matter slide.
Even afterward, since I was reluctant to bring new people into my inner circle, everyone respected my wishes.
Had there been other Princesses, it might have caused gossip, but since I was the only one, it wasn’t much of a problem.
Thanks to this, Ga-i and Song Bi had advanced quickly, but given the fairness issue with the other Gung-nyeo, the Queen had promised to elevate them to Sang-gung when I eventually married out of the palace.
‘The longer I delay my marriage, the longer their promotion will be delayed as well.’
I did feel rather sorry about that.
I had heard that among the Gung-nyeo, those in the Inner Palace Department had relatively good income and that some Sang-gung even dabbled in managing wealth, but Min Sang-gung, who had served Yoon So-ui, had retired far too abruptly and apparently had not been able to secure a home for herself.
As a result, I had to make a special trip to the place where retired Gung-nyeo gathered to meet her. I had heard that many Gung-nyeo enter temples, but I wasn’t sure whether it was because she wasn’t a Buddhist or if there were other reasons.
I made some pleasant small talk about recent happenings before gradually steering toward the real purpose of my visit.
“I’ve come looking for help because I need someone, so don’t feel too burdened by it.”
“That I should be needed is a mystery to me, Your Highness.”
“Perhaps Min Sang-gung has already guessed to some degree, but… it’s work that the palace doesn’t do, yet I’d like help with. It’s not dangerous work, of course, and if you’d prefer not to, you’re free to decline.”
Min Sang-gung answered thoughtfully to my words.
“I’m afraid I don’t yet understand what you mean, Your Highness. Are you perhaps referring to the facility you established recently for the beggar children?”
Ah, so word had spread. As expected of someone from the Inner Palace Department—her instincts were sharp.
“Exactly. Simply feeding and housing them would be one thing, but I want to provide them with proper education.”
“But Your Highness, are they not of lowly station, with temperaments as base as can be?”
“Hmm. True, I hear the Inner Palace Department tends to have good standing, but aren’t many Gung-nyeo from Gwanbi origins? Yet they all work without issue in the palace—precisely because they received education there from childhood. Is that not so?”
“That is…”
As Min Sang-gung showed ambivalence, I decided to press a little harder.
“Or did you perhaps hold the same thoughts about Yoon So-ui?”
“Oh, no, Your Highness. How could I ever harbor such baseless thoughts?”
Min Sang-gung started in alarm and hastily denied it.
My birth mother, Yoon So-ui, had come from Saengwabang.
‘I’ve heard that departments with grueling labor don’t have particularly good status.’
Similarly, Song Bi, also from Saengwabang, had been parachuted into the Inner Palace Department and apparently had a rough time learning everything. Now that I think about it, she must have endured considerable snide remarks from those around her, though perhaps it was easier for her because I enjoyed the King’s favor?
Come to think of it, lately she seemed to be relieving stress by kneading baking dough.
“I’ve heard that the Gung-nyeo in the Inner Palace Department must study more than those elsewhere. Isn’t it a waste? No one knows when the palace might call them back, yet they wait here indefinitely—that too is a waste.”
“…”
“If Min Sang-gung finds this unpalatable, I cannot force you. But do consider it. Ah, of course, I’m not proposing to use people without compensation.”
“…!”
In that moment, Min Sang-gung’s eyes brightened.
Wait. Did she actually think I meant to work her for nothing?
Though to be fair, there were far more people working without pay in the palace than one might expect.
Those of high station tend to believe it only natural that their subordinates labor for them.
I smiled and added further.
“And this isn’t an offer I’m making only to Min Sang-gung.”
As I spoke, I looked toward the familiar faces of the So-ui Residence’s Nain standing nearby.
Though I was formally addressing Min Sang-gung, I was in effect extending the same proposal to the Nain who were listening to our conversation.
Perhaps they, being younger, were all the more hungry for new work.
Gung-nyeo from the Inner Palace Department are fairly high-caliber personnel, and using them for the education and care of beggar children might seem wasteful, but left idle they truly do waste away.
“It will probably be far more grueling than teaching the palace’s concubines, and there will be many more odd jobs than you might expect.”
“Your Highness.”
“But still, I would feel much more at ease with Min Sang-gung there. There aren’t many who have experience teaching and managing people. You know as well as I do—there aren’t many I can truly trust.”
The facility itself would probably need to be relocated there, though since I’ve already secured fairly spacious grounds, it shouldn’t be a major problem.
‘It would be a better life than here, surely.’
I approached Min Sang-gung, who had not yet answered but was visibly wavering, took her hand, and whispered to her.
“And being in a place with many people means low ruffians won’t be able to treat you carelessly.”
“…!”
I discreetly hinted to only those palace women who had been vetted as politically unproblematic—excluding the attendants of So-ui’s Residence—about the new work opportunity, then quietly took my leave. It was convenient that the women servants all knew perfectly well who belonged to which faction.
On the way back, Ga-i asked me a question.
“Do you think Min Sang-gung will follow the Princess’s wishes?”
“If she doesn’t, there’s nothing to be done for it. But I think she will.”
I sighed, recalling the scene I’d witnessed earlier.
In my past life, I’d seen seniors and friends weeping as they took leaves of absence and worked part-time jobs to pay off their families’ debts—and here I was seeing it again.
Once people start extracting money, it continues endlessly and eventually becomes expected. And yet, blood ties mean you can’t simply sever the connection.
People around them are so quick to condemn them for abandoning filial duty, yet those same people won’t part with a single coin. If they cared so much, they’d offer money instead of reproach.
At least if she remained in the palace, she’d be spared from having to meet them, and some semblance of comfort would be assured. But after leaving? She must have felt utterly lost.
‘I suppose entering a nunnery might have been better, though I can’t pry that deeply into someone else’s personal affairs. That would have been safer, wouldn’t it? There must be temples in Gangnam Bongeunsa or places where retired palace women go. Ah, but would he have tracked her down there and made trouble?’
Temples and hermitages near the Capital City in the Joseon era were often like that—temples that survived the Suppression of Buddhism had their reasons. Of course, that didn’t mean such temples were pleasant places to live during the Joseon period.
In any case, if Min Sang-gung agreed to come, I planned to visit other palace women who had entered convents. It would be nice to see something of the outside world in the process.
And it would become my role to protect and supervise the women I brought in.
When I first conceived the idea of educating the beggar children, the first thing that came to mind was retired palace women.
Those who left the palace upon reaching a certain age had accumulated savings and relatives to return to, living out their later years in relative comfort. But those forced to retire prematurely became unemployed at a comparatively young age and had to build new lives.
After establishing themselves outside, they’d be called back into the palace again, and if luck turned against them, they’d have to leave once more. What unstable employment that was.
‘And they couldn’t marry, so they couldn’t establish families either.’
The circumstances of palace women in service weren’t particularly enviable, but the situation of concubines with children was somewhat better.
In the Joseon period of history, many seemed to enter convents, but in this world, similar to early Joseon, more often they entrusted themselves to their children.
Now there is the Jeongeobwon within the palace—a temple where concubines remaining after the king’s death reside—but in the history I knew, scholars made such a fuss that they wouldn’t allow even that, and it eventually disappeared.
‘Those scholars had such foul temperaments.’
How did people come to such extremes?
The Suppression of Buddhism began with the corruptions of the Buddhist establishment during Goryeo, but later those so-called scholars and learned men behaved with equally unforgivable excess.
It wasn’t simply a matter of Buddhism’s faults—it meant that power could never be allowed to stagnate in one place.
And even as they rejected Buddhism, they weren’t shy about using it to their advantage.
Fortunately, this world’s worldview seemed to lean toward a more conciliatory approach rather than extremism.
Whether it’s classical learning or Neo-Confucianism, when something new comes from outside, one should take the good and improve the bad. But those who wielded power clung to it only as it suited them, and that’s how things fell apart.
From the start, they claim men are heaven and women are earth—so why do you live on the earth? If you love heaven so much, go live there yourself.
Even Song Siyeol, a Neo-Confucian fundamentalist, argued that women should be taught writing and learning so they could live as proper humans. He even proposed appointing female historians, and in the north, he spoke of cultivating female military units.
Of course, female historians were meant to enter the inner palace since male officials cannot go there, to record events—but that would have been such an egregious invasion of the royal family’s privacy that the king would have been beside himself. And Song Siyeol lived during the Qing invasion era, so his thinking might reflect the time when firearms were in use.
Now that I think of it, didn’t Sun-tzu also give military training to palace women once? The story goes that when they wouldn’t follow orders, he executed a favored concubine by military law, and the king gave up the whole thing.
‘Wait, I think I just had a rather good idea.’
Well, I’ll think about the details later. For now, I need to see the children.
I heard they were doing well and following the instructions I’d given them.
‘They’re even gathering firewood and wild vegetables from the mountains.’
What happened with the Crown Prince and what Hong Suk-won did had made the royal family somewhat jittery about tigers, so periodic tiger hunts were being conducted around the Capital City and Gyeonggi Province—which was relatively reassuring.
After going as far as Dongdaemun and making my way to the beggar children’s facility, more time had passed than expected, and finding myself a bit hungry, I spoke first.
After all, it was proper for the highest-ranking person to speak first.
“I’m getting rather hungry. Shall we stop somewhere and eat?”
“Of course, Miss.”
Both Ga-i and Seong Gyeom-sa-bok nodded without objection at my words.
It was a different place than last time, but I chose a tavern that seemed to have considerable scale.
I wanted to observe people in a way that wasn’t possible within the palace.
‘There are merchants and peddlers, and surprisingly enough, clerks or low-ranking officials too.’
Of course, this is where rumors spread.
Normally it was gossip about someone in the lower district taking a lover or a family quarrel over inheritance—naturally, it was fascinating to listen to.
‘It’s like listening to radio call-in shows.’
Of course, given the era, the privacy of those involved was not respected in the slightest.
“That gentleman certainly knows a lot, doesn’t he?”
“Ah, Miss. You mustn’t lend your ear to such vulgar stories.”
As I was listening to what sounded like melodrama worthy of a romance-and-war television serial, only Ga-i seemed embarrassed, her face reddening.
Well, I suppose I was still only eight years old right now.
For Ga-i’s sake, I pretended not to have heard and focused on the food in front of me. This place makes excellent soup.
“Is that really true?!”
“Is that actually so?”
“That’s how it is!”
Noticing the commotion when some new piece of gossip arrived at the next table, I glanced sideways and saw Ga-i let out a small sigh. No wonder she was overwhelmed—she’d lived only within the quiet palace walls, and stepping out into such bustle would naturally be disorienting.
“You do take quite an interest in rumors, Miss.”
“At home, we never hear such varied news.”
Of course, rumors did trickle in from time to time—that something happened at some nobleman’s house or other.
Provocative subjects are inevitably filtered through the conscience of the palace attendants before reaching my ears.
“Poison? A royal death sentence?”
Yet at the unexpected word that had just reached us, I found that not only I, but Ga-i and Seong Gyeom-sa-bok as well could not help but turn our heads in unison.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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