Looking for the Runaway Heavenly Maiden - Chapter 21

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

21.

“Cheonhaerang! Are you awake?”

Cheonhaerang blinked blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling and the familiar face before me. It was my older sister’s house.
I was lying in the room where I often slept when visiting.
I tried to tell my sister I was fine, opening my mouth to speak, but all that emerged from my parched throat was a cough.
Haerang opened his mouth to tell his sister, who was looking at him with a face as if she were about to cry, that he was fine, but all that came out of his parched, stinging throat was a cough.

“Cough. Cough.”

As I drank, I thought that my older sister seemed more like a mother to me than my own mother.
Had I ever received such care during my time in Cheongyeokgyeong? My childhood memories were too hazy to recall clearly.
…I couldn’t remember.
I don’t remember.

“Ahem. Noona, I’m okay now.”

I glanced around the room. Though blackout curtains were drawn, sunlight filtered through the gaps.
It was already morning.
Thinking I needed to hurry and prepare for school, I asked her.
Thinking that she needed to hurry and prepare to go to school, Haerang asked.

“Noona, what’s going on?”

It was an innocent question.
Yeonhwa, who had been letting out a sigh of relief as she cleared away the water glass, suddenly froze mid-motion.
I had stayed awake through the entire night until Cheonhaerang woke.
It had felt as though he would never wake at all. Even eons could not have passed more slowly than this.
Though one might call it brief, for her it had stretched longer than eternity itself—and the conclusion she had reached during that endless vigil had now solidified.
I could not leave Cheonhaerang in the Human Realm any longer.
I could no longer grant Cheonhaerang’s wishes.
The child’s life was far more important to me.
I could not bear to lose this child again.
Because he was still young, Cheonhaerang’s power remained incomplete. Therefore, he could not perfectly command the Four Spirits.
With his current strength, he would have to continue relying on the Eight-Pillar Talisman whenever facing Gihyeongrang.
His body could never withstand such a burden.

“Cheonhaerang.”

My sister’s voice calling my name sounded different from usual.
Sensing something was amiss, I studied her expression carefully.

“Sister…?”

At that moment, my eyes met Yeonhwa’s.
I had always thought it—that my eldest sister resembled our Patriarch more than anyone else.
Though I was clearly looking at my eldest sister, it felt as though I were facing our Patriarch himself.
Was it because of those eyes, unfathomably deep and solemn?
Or was it because of that voice, cold as frost?

“Return to the Heavenly Realm.”
“What do you mean all of a sudden…”
“Your reckless defiance should end here.”
“Sister.”
“Do you refuse to follow the Patriarch’s will? But to face Gihyeongrang, you need to borrow the Patriarch’s power. You are nothing more than that right now.”

Her words were sharp as a finely honed blade.
I was left speechless. My sister’s words cut deep into my chest.
No rebuttal came to mind. There was nothing wrong with what she said.
I had used the Eight-Pillar Talisman. Though I was its master, the Eight-Pillar Talisman was originally a treasure given by the Patriarch.
It belonged to him.

“Your Highness is nothing. You have accomplished nothing by your own hand.”

That voice, which she couldn’t escape, echoed in Cheonhaerang’s ears.
He was nothing. He had accomplished nothing with his own hands.
It was true.
He had ultimately relied on his sister’s power, relied on his father’s power.
There was nothing he had achieved with his own hands.
Gihyeongrang… was not wrong.

“Rest for today. I’ll let Jiho know as well.”

Cheonhaerang couldn’t say anything.
He couldn’t bring himself to stop his sister as she left.

* * *

Jiho, who had made a vague excuse to Yerim—saying she had duty early and left—arrived at school, glancing nervously at those around her as she made her way to the Principal’s Office.
This time, she reached the Principal’s Office without difficulty. Jiho knocked carefully on the door.
Knock, knock.
After the soft knocking, a refined voice from inside told her to enter. Jiho gently opened the door and stepped in.
As she closed the door behind her, she dropped to one knee and bowed her head—a courtesy she hadn’t been able to offer at their first meeting.

“I am Jiho of the Baekho Clan of the West, and I pay my respects to you, Princess. I apologize for this belated greeting.”

Yeonhwa, who hadn’t expected such a formal greeting, was momentarily taken aback, but she quickly regained her composure.
If Jiho was treating her as a subject, then she would treat Jiho as a princess in return.
Yeonhwa’s previously gentle atmosphere shifted in an instant.
At the subtly heavy air, Jiho flinched without realizing it.
Yeonhwa spoke to the young Baekho.

“I grant you permission. Rise now.”

Unlike before, Yeonhwa’s tone was cold.

“Thank you, Princess.”

I rose from my seat and remained standing right where I was.
According to the palace etiquette I had learned in childhood, I had to wait until Princess Yeonhwa told me to sit.
Yeonhwa watched me standing quietly, and for some reason, her mouth turned bitter.
It was a wall of status erected in an instant. Since Cheonhaerang also understood this wall, that was why he was so reluctant to return to the Heavenly Realm.
If Cheonhaerang revealed his true identity as Princess Yeonhwa and returned to the Heavenly Realm, an even greater barrier would stand between Cheonhaerang and me.
It was something Cheonhaerang desperately did not want.
Cheonhaerang said he did not wish to follow his father’s will. That included Ryujiho of the Baekho Clan.
Cheonhaerang wanting me was equivalent to the next Supreme Deity obtaining the Baekho Clan.
This meant the balance of the Four Spirits would be broken.
The balance of power would collapse.
Yet knowing this, Cheonhaerang still wanted me.
Truly, seeing this, he resembled his father.
The way he inevitably fell into futile love.
Perhaps it was because he did not know where that love would lead.
Yeonhwa clicked her tongue inwardly and opened her mouth.

“Sit down now.”

Following Yeonhwa’s command, I finally sat on the sofa.
Unable to dare look at the princess’s face, I stared intently at the table. I waited for her words, but strangely, nothing more came.
How long did we remain in that uncomfortable silence?
Finally, a heavy voice broke through the silence.

“Princess Yeonhwa is scheduled to return to the Heavenly Realm.”

* * *

Following Yerim’s footsteps, the crimson hem of her skirt swayed.
She dusted off the altar that had accumulated dust in just one day and prepared to receive guests.
Though the Shrine had only been open for a month, word had spread by acquaintance, and reservations were fully booked at least through next month.
This was partly because she accepted fewer guests compared to other places.
It was only natural. Work-life balance was important to her. She was doing this reluctantly after enjoying a pleasant period of unemployment.
Yerim recalled the list of guests visiting today. Two in the morning, three in the afternoon.
The first guest had a 10 o’clock reservation, and it was just past 9 now, so there was plenty of time left.
After finishing the cleaning, Yerim suppressed the urge to lie down on the floor immediately. Her carefully dressed clothes could become disheveled.
She was giggling while watching YouTube Shorts when she heard it—a faint sound. The Shrine door was opening.
Yerim checked the time. It was still only 9:30.

‘They’re here already?’

Assuming the first scheduled guest had arrived, Yerim carelessly hid her phone and straightened her appearance. Then she sharpened her expression, sat up rigidly, and waited for the visitor.
The first thing to do when facing a guest was to seize the initiative.
Moments later, the door opened without so much as a knock. Yet Yerim did not look toward it.
She snapped open the fan she held in her hand with a crisp sound. The fan’s vibrant, colorful patterns faced toward the guest.
Yerim closed her eyes quietly and attempted to read the visitor’s aura. However.

‘…What?’

Something was wrong. She sensed nothing at all.

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