Since I’m a Time-Limited Princess Who Has No Tomorrow - Chapter 115

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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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Chapter 115
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The 10th day of the 12th month, Year 14 of Seo-gwang.
I hadn’t informed the King and Queen about this outing. The Queen lay bedridden, and the King was far too occupied tending to her, managing the aftermath of the Ping Empire Envoys’ actions, reorganizing the Jagyogapsa, and overseeing the construction of Seongsul Academy—he would need ten bodies to manage it all.
‘Being young has its advantages. I don’t have to shoulder such burdensome duties or clean up their messes.’
That said, we hadn’t exactly run away in secret. I’d properly informed the East Palace staff where we were going. When I told the Unyeondang Attendants that I was taking An-si as my escort, they raised no particular concerns or objections.
‘After all, there was the matter of dealing with assassins in the Bamboo Grove before, and I even caught the arsonist at Unyeondang. Even if An-si looks young, word has already spread that she’s a formidable being with supernatural strength.’
However, the Crown Prince found it difficult to shake off the Crown Prince’s Guard who insisted on accompanying him as escorts. In the end, he agreed to travel with only Ki Ho-cheol instead of being weighed down by guards.
The Crown Prince removed his crimson robe and donned a simple jacket and hat, while I exchanged my formal court dress for plain clothes and wrapped a veil around my face to conceal my striking appearance. We made our way toward the side gate used by palace staff.
An-si, whose golden hair was just as conspicuous as my own, also wore a veil and followed a few steps behind, while Ki Ho-cheol accompanied us in his usual attire, dressed in martial garb with a sword at his side.
The guard, who had been informed in advance, opened the gate for us. As we passed through the side gate and headed beyond the palace walls, the Crown Prince murmured softly.
“Young-jun threw quite a tantrum insisting he wanted to come along.”
“Really? Why not? It seems like he could have joined us.”
“…”
The Crown Prince seemed to grow somewhat dejected, but there was no time to ask further questions as we needed to board the palanquin that awaited us.
The house hosting both the Heo-ju Gut ritual and the memorial service for Princess Cheonmyeong lay beyond the Wun River, which cut through Wun City.
North of Wun City, centered around the Wun River, stood Unryong Palace and the government offices along Yuk-jo Street, the Ban Village where the yangban gentry resided, Seonghak Academy, and the Official Market directly constructed and managed by the government.
South of the river, meanwhile, lay Min Village where commoners gathered, and the naturally developed marketplace of the common people. While the court designated the southern market as a civilian commercial district to distinguish it from the Official Market, the people simply called them the North Market and South Market, or referred to the southern market separately as the South Market Street.
The person who had commissioned the Heo-ju Gut was a wealthy merchant who operated a large fabric shop in the South Market Street. Consequently, his residence was located nearby.
The palanquin I rode and the Crown Prince’s horse were to wait at a tavern in the South Market Street. We descended and walked toward the merchant’s house on foot.
‘They call it the Zelkova House because of the large zelkova tree there.’
Indeed, after only a short walk, a well-grown zelkova tree came into view beyond a tall wall. The main gate of the mansion stood wide open with people coming and going, and the lively bustle clearly announced it was a festival day.
The Crown Prince, looking intrigued by the sight, asked a question.
“Can anyone simply enter a celebration like this?”
“They say that since it’s such an auspicious day with their son returning home, they’re treating everyone today.”
Thanks to this, we had no qualms about slipping in incognito. We pushed through the throng of people and handed a gift bundle we’d prepared in advance to a servant greeting guests.
The servant then led us to the honored seats. It was true what they said—those who came empty-handed were served together on mats in the courtyard, while those who brought proper gifts received their own table.
Once we were seated, a maidservant brought out a feast of seasoned vegetables, beef patties, and rice wine. As she mechanically arranged the dishes, she noticed we were children and quietly removed the rice wine, replacing it with sweet rice drink instead.
‘What a shame. I was hoping to try some alcohol for once.’
I clicked my tongue inwardly.
In Heaven, my body had been too weak to even consider drinking, and here in the Mortal Realm, I was trapped in a child’s body with no opportunity to taste it.
‘I’m so curious what alcohol tastes like. I absolutely must try it next time.’
Once the maidservant left, the Crown Prince lowered his voice and asked.
“By the way, Lady, didn’t you inform the Scholar conducting the ritual today about your visit?”
“I did tell Princess Onseol, but I didn’t mention it separately to my teacher. I thought he’d feel burdened if he knew I was coming.”
If Baek Tam-sol learned that the Crown Princess and Crown Prince were coming secretly to watch, he’d unnecessarily worry. Besides, my primary purpose today was also to attend the memorial service for Princess Cheonmyeong that would be held after the Heo-ju Gut.
‘I should watch quietly without drawing attention.’
But my resolve crumbled like a sandcastle not long after.
The atmosphere had been excellent until the ritual altar was set up and the Nongak Troupe performed. Well-fed and pleasantly intoxicated guests swayed to the rhythm, and when the Merchant Host came out and declared he would distribute more wine and food if they successfully drove away the Heo-ju afflicting his son, applause erupted.
Just as the atmosphere was reaching its peak, Baek Tam-sol made her entrance.
‘Ah, she’s wearing a veil.’
Baek Tam-sol appeared in a crimson shaman’s robe adorned with colorful cloth and holding bells, her face concealed beneath a veil hung from a hat decorated with pheasant feathers. Beneath the heavy veil, only her jaw and lips were barely visible.
‘Perhaps her scar hasn’t fully healed yet?’
As I observed with curiosity, I heard people around me chattering amongst themselves.
“The Shaman Mother still conceals her face wherever she goes.”
“She’s been doing that since the first exorcism ritual, or so I’ve heard.”
“They say she deliberately hides her face because the spirits she drove out might return seeking vengeance?”
“No, what I heard was that she has a terribly grotesque and massive scar on her face, which is why she goes about like that.”
“Well, I was told that’s how the Shaman Mother maintains her spiritual efficacy.”
Despite becoming famous enough to earn a reputation, she continued to conceal her face, so all manner of rumors swirled about her.
Listening to the people’s chatter with complicated feelings, the exorcism ritual finally began.
A tall ritual pole adorned with a large white cloth and five-colored ribbons was erected before the altar. The Merchant’s Son was then dragged out, bound tightly with straw rope, and seated beneath the pole. Even held fast by burly servants, he thrashed about wildly.
‘The malevolent spirit possessing that body is sensing danger and raging.’
As the double-headed drum’s rhythm continued and the oboe’s notes stretched long, Baek Tam-sol walked forward and sat before the altar. She bowed once to the altar, lit incense, bowed twice and chanted something inaudibly, bowed three times and shook her bells, bowed four times and lit incense again—repeating this pattern as if waiting for something.
The people around us began whispering again.
“What is the Shaman Mother doing now?”
“She’s praying until the deity responds. It will probably take some time.”
“Huh? Aren’t shamans usually supposed to dance the sacred dance to invite possession?”
“The Shaman Mother doesn’t dance at all. Didn’t you know?”
I, who had been listening intently, was inwardly astonished.
Baek Tam-sol doesn’t perform the sacred dance? Why?
‘Could this also be because of her scar? Was the salve I gave her ineffective? That shouldn’t be the case.’
If she hasn’t been dancing, how has she been conducting exorcism rituals all this time?
Meanwhile, five sticks of incense had been placed in the altar’s censer. She had already bowed fifteen times, yet there was still no sign of Baek Tam-sol’s deity responding.
“Today the response is taking quite a while.”
“What happens when the deity responds?”
“The paper money hanging there catches fire, and divine power flows through the shaman’s body, causing her to glow brilliantly.”
Ah, so she’s been receiving divine power through prayer alone without dancing during all these rituals. But that method takes far longer and possession doesn’t occur as readily.
‘Perhaps it’s being treated as an ordinary offering, so the officials of Heaven’s Incense Acceptance respond slowly because there are so many such offerings.’
A sixth stick of incense was placed.
As I watched, thinking how difficult this must be, suddenly jeers erupted from one side.
“How can she be a shaman if she doesn’t even dance!”
“She’s a fraud! The Shaman Mother indeed!”
“What kind of ritual is this without the sacred dance! No wonder the deity is angered and refuses to respond!”
A group of men and women poured out jeers as if they had planned it. The servants moved to quiet them, but suddenly froze. A woman among them had risen and thrown off her outer robe.
‘…A shaman?’
The woman wore a navy shaman’s robe and a white ritual hat. With a fan in one hand and shaman’s bells in the other, she walked unhesitatingly toward the altar.
“Shaman Mother!”
The Merchant’s Son, who had been thrashing beneath the pole, called out to her with delight.
‘If she’s the Shaman Mother, then this shaman is the one who caused the malevolent spirit to possess him in the first place, isn’t she?’
I wasn’t the only one startled—the crowd began murmuring all around me.
The Merchant Host cried out in alarm.
“What are you all doing! Remove that Shaman at once!”
The servants rushed forward at his command. But the Shaman snapped open her fan with a sharp crack and bellowed in a commanding voice.
“In ancient times, the Jade Emperor dwelt in Heaven, and in ancient times, the Dragon King ruled the seas! The Dragon King’s seventh son—that is none other than Cheoyong!”
As the shamanic chant flowed forth in rhythmic cadence, a faint azure light began to shimmer around the Shaman’s body.
“A noble son, yet the seventh and youngest! Lamenting his powerlessness and lack of station, he bravely crossed the waves!”
The Shaman spun in place as though dancing, then snapped her fan shut and pointed it directly at the approaching servants.
“Behold! Wave upon wave, undulating across the waters—Cheoyong crosses over!”
With the Shaman’s incantation, a surge of azure energy erupted from the fan’s edge like a tidal wave. The servants rushing forward were struck by the force and swept away like driftwood, tumbling in all directions.
“That’s genuine divine magic!”
“Truly, a Shaman who serves Cheoyong!”
Those who had mocked her moments before now showered her with praise as though they’d been waiting for this moment. The Shaman, wreathed in azure light, smiled smugly.
I watched the spectacle unfold, then glanced down at the rather useless handmade Cheoyong charm hanging from my waist, and turned my gaze back to the dancing Shaman.
‘That’s not Cheoyong’s divine power at all.’
How amusing—I’m seeing another charlatan like Gwang-chul.

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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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