Since I’m a Time-Limited Princess Who Has No Tomorrow - Chapter 23

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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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Episode 23
[Y-yes….]
Leaving An-si’s anxious reply behind, I opened my eyes and looked down at the attendants.
“Kim Sang-gung.”
“Yes, Mano.”
“From now on, any attendant I name is dismissed. Remove them from the Crown Princess’s Palace immediately.”
“Y-yes…?”
“Just write down the names for now.”
Using my Heavenly Vision, I identified all the attendants whose faults outweighed their merits—those who leaned toward wickedness—and weeded them out entirely. When I finished, roughly twenty attendants remained. It was somewhat sparse, but it was better than conducting daily replacements for those struck down by divine punishment and searching for their substitutes.
“Prepare a roster of the remaining staff and bring it to me. We’ll operate with this number for now, and whenever we need additional personnel, have them approved by me first.”
“Y-yes….”
Kim Sang-gung, who had hastily written down the names, asked me carefully.
“Um, but Crown Princess’s Mano, may I ask what criteria you used to select them?”
I had prepared an excuse for this beforehand.
“The Xue Tribe’s standards.”
“Pardon?”
“Kim Sang-gung, do you know why Pyeong subjugated the Xue Tribe?”
“That….”
Shock rippled across Kim Sang-gung’s pupils.
It was widely known that the Pyeong Empire had slaughtered the Xue Tribe and conquered them into slavery because of their special abilities. The justification Pyeong offered—that the Xue Tribe’s lands were actually their own ancestral territory—was merely a pretext; everyone knew the truth. Naturally, Kim Sang-gung knew as well, but it would be difficult for her to speak of it so casually before me, a Xue Tribe hybrid and also a member of the Pyeong imperial family.
“It’s alright, Kim Sang-gung. I am a descendant of the Xue Tribe before I am a member of the Pyeong imperial family.”
“…!”
“That’s why Pyeong sent me here. You understand what I mean, don’t you, Kim Sang-gung?”
Which of my conflicting identities takes precedence? Watching her glance nervously around, Kim Sang-gung seemed to grasp my meaning instantly. With An-si present, there was no concern about eavesdropping.
I continued calmly.
“So I have no homeland. Pyeong is not my home.”
I would be living here for some time, and I couldn’t afford to be treated as a foreigner. I needed to draw a clear line now.
“From now on, this place will become my home, and I will become a cloud that clings not to the plains.”
“M-Mano, that statement…!”
Kim Sang-gung stammered, her face touched with emotion. I smiled secretly and covered my lips with my index finger.
“This is a secret from the Empire?”
* * *
It was several days later when Kim Sang-gung brought the books I had requested and the roster of palace staff. Since there were quite a few books, she couldn’t carry them alone and came with several attendants. Among them, I spotted a familiar face.
‘Choi Ja-myeong.’
The attendant I had first examined using my Heavenly Vision.
‘Now that I think about it, I had forgotten about her.’
I set down the books and singled out Choi Ja-myeong from among the attendants who were withdrawing.
“You stay for a moment.”
“…!”
Choi Ja-myeong froze, her face drained of color. The other attendants and Kim Sang-gung withdrew, casting glances at her. I sat at my desk and began writing rapidly on paper.
“Choi Ja-myeong, right?”
She hadn’t expected me to remember her name—her eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes, yes, that’s correct.”
“Come here and take this.”
Choi Ja-myeong approached hesitantly, glancing at the paper before asking carefully.
“What is this, Crown Princess?”
“It’s a prescription. Take it to the Apothecary and ask them to prepare the medicine exactly as written. If you’re curious about what kind of medicine it is, ask the physicians there.”
“…Medicine?”
“Yes. If you give it to your younger sibling, they should show improvement soon.”
“…!”
Choi Ja-myeong’s mouth fell open in stunned silence.
When I had peered into her with my Heavenly Eyes, I had observed nearly the entirety of Choi Ja-myeong’s life—her sins and virtues accumulated over the years. Remarkably, she possessed far more virtue than vice.
Ordinary humans accumulate roughly equal measures of merit and fault throughout their lives. While the line between them isn’t always clear-cut, those with more faults tend to be wicked, while those with more merit tend to be virtuous. By that measure, Choi Ja-myeong was decidedly good.
‘Her family was poor, so she entered the Palace to work while still young. During her service, a landslide devastated her hometown.’
Most of the villagers perished in that catastrophe. Only a handful of children survived, including Choi Ja-myeong’s own younger sibling. She had taken them all in and supported them alone.
Fortunately, the Palace’s monthly stipend was substantial enough to sustain them, but recently one of the children fell gravely ill from an unknown disease. Though not her blood sibling, Choi Ja-myeong refused to abandon the child. She had been scraping together medical expenses by cutting back on her own food and clothing.
Thus, Choi Ja-myeong’s faults stemmed from her desperate attempts to secure money or medicinal materials. They were small transgressions—currying favor with Nain, a woman of wealth and poor temperament, to gain scraps of benefit.
‘Even her lack of proper courtesy toward me had been for that reason.’
Compared to truly wicked people, her sins were trivial, yet she suffered disproportionate guilt over them.
‘That time… when I told her to leave and she didn’t go immediately, saying she couldn’t prepare the wedding ceremony alone—those words came from genuine desire to help.’
Her hands may have been rough from watching the other servants’ reactions, but inwardly she despised herself while pitying me. When she witnessed that I survived the wedding night, her relief revealed her true heart. Knowing this, I had brought her to my Palace.
‘Once you understand a human to this depth… affection comes naturally.’
Weak yet diligent, doing their best within their circumstances, sometimes committing sins to survive—pitiful, lamentable humans.
When I played with the Karma Mirror, when I watched the departed cross the River of Three Paths, when I observed the Mortal Realm through the Far-Seeing Mirror, I often wished to help such people. Yet as a deity dwelling in the Heavenly Realm, to influence the Mortal Realm without prayer or offering would violate the natural order—I could do nothing.
‘But now I have become a human living in the Mortal Realm.’
This wasn’t a miracle requiring divine power; such trivial assistance was entirely within my capability.
‘Two hundred years of experience as a celestial physician—writing a simple prescription like this is nothing.’
Through Choi Ja-myeong’s memories, I discerned that her sibling’s illness was the work of a vengeful spirit—something requiring purification rather than treatment. Among immortals, it would be no worse than a common cold, but for humans, it was different.
As I reviewed the prescription, something occurred to me. I opened a box I kept beneath my writing desk—one where I had carelessly gathered gold ingots from the Sang-ra Palace treasury using the Eight Trigrams Seal. They were too heavy to remove the larger pieces, so I had only taken small ones the size of a palm. I withdrew one and offered it to her.
“Some of the ingredients are rare, but this should be sufficient. If anything is lacking or if the materials cannot be found, let me know.”
Choi Ja-myeong did not accept the gold ingot I offered. She alternated her gaze between it and the prescription, her expression vacant as she murmured.
“How… how is this possible…?”
“I saw you on the wedding day, remember?”
Choi Ja-myeong’s shoulders trembled. She looked at me with eyes full of disbelief.
“That… that means what I felt wasn’t a mistake?”
“What did you feel?”
I already knew well what it felt like to be observed through my Heavenly Eyes. But since my perception was based on immortal standards, I wondered if it might feel different to a human, so I asked.
Choi Ja-myeong gazed upward into empty space before answering softly.
“…It felt like the gaze of a celestial being.”
“A celestial being?”
“In the grip of death’s terror, I looked back on how I had lived… and I found so much to regret.”
Death’s terror? No—being watched by the Mandate of Heaven so intensely that I could see the lantern of the afterlife? The effect is far stronger than I anticipated!
‘No wonder some humans were staggering even when the burden was divided among thirty.’
While I was still processing this, Choi Ja-myeong looked at me with an expression of quiet resolve.
“When the terror finally faded, I felt only gratitude. I thought—I would live the rest of my life more righteously, more diligently… I would not take the easy path, but would strive to find the right one instead.”
Her eyes had grown steady and clear; she was utterly transformed. What was this? The Mandate of Heaven held no power to grant sudden redemption—I was certain of it, especially after witnessing how the Crown Prince’s eunuch had tried to deny his own crimes even after confessing them.
‘Was she simply a good person to begin with?’
Observing this, I found humans truly fascinating. They were generally weak beyond measure, yet occasionally they would flash with unexpected strength, and suddenly reveal kindness I had never anticipated.
No wonder affection takes root so easily. I understood now why so many deities cherish humans, and why some even come to love them.
Choi Ja-myeong swallowed hard and continued.
“The experience was so unbelievable that later, I wondered if I had simply dreamed it standing upright, or if the feeling of having shown my entire life to someone—to the Crown Princess Mano—was merely an illusion… but it wasn’t an illusion, was it?”
“…Yes, well, that’s right.”
I nodded, and Choi Ja-myeong drew in a breath.
“Then does that mean Mano…?”
She parted her lips to speak, then fell silent as she gazed at my silver hair, braided neatly down my back. Among humans, whose hair was ordinarily black, distinctive coloring typically hinted at extraordinary power—either divine blood, or the influence of a celestial being of great strength.
‘And my silver hair is the hallmark of the Xue Tribe, who carry divine blood.’
It was convenient that she could deduce and accept this without my needing to offer any explanation. The identity of the Xue Tribe proved useful in many ways.
I extended the gold ingot and prescription once more.
“Take them.”
“…But I was disrespectful to Mano.”
“I know.”
“Yet you give me a reward instead of punishment?”
“It’s not a reward.”
I tilted my head slightly as I continued.
“Think of it as fortune.”
“….”
“Like an accident that befalls you without warning—unexpected blessings rolling into your life, that’s all.”
“What do you mean…?”
“It could be the aid of your ancestors, or the karmic merit you’ve accumulated. Either way, this is your fortune and your blessing. So simply accept it.”
Fortune that catches the eye of a great deity like myself might truly be the accumulated grace of her ancestors’ efforts. And it was true that my heart had lifted seeing her accumulate more karmic merit than karmic debt through her life. So this wasn’t a reward I was giving—it was Choi Ja-myeong’s own fortune.

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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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