Chapter 70 — The First Step
After the Left Prime Minister's death, jus as the news spread rapidly throughout the capital, just as quickly, it faded.
With the official conclusion that his second wife had poisoned him, the investigation was closed. No further questions were asked. No deeper truths were uncovered.
The matter was buried.
And so life moved on.
Two weeks later, Minwha had already begun training personally under Master Du.
A month later, she started performing.
At first, her audience was mostly men— men who came for their daily needs but were drawn in by curiosity, novelty, and rumor.
But gradually, something shifted. Women began to attend as well.
Bold ones at first. Then more.
Whispers spread of her "special performances," of the girl who danced differently—who did not sell herself, yet captivated the entire room when she moved.
And so, the crowd grew.
One month became two.
Two became six.
And before anyone realized it— A year had passed.
Now, every Thursday night, Hansheng Ge was filled to capacity. Men and women alike gathered for a single reason:
MINHWA
Her name alone was enough to draw crowds. Her performances became the heart of the establishment, elevating its reputation across the capital.
With that rise came wealth.
Minwha was paid generously—far beyond the others. When she first began, she was paid only two silver coins per performance. Now, she earned eighty.
And with that… Came jealousy.
The girls she once trained alongside with had all become gisaeng.
All of them—except her.
In the entirety of Hansheng Ge, Minwha was the only one who did not serve guests.
She danced. And only danced.
Untouchable.
Meanwhile, Dunluo had also become a gisaeng.
In just one year— Everything seemed to have changed.
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Meanwhile — At the Palace
In the Crown Prince's quarters— The crown prince now sixteen was finally permitted to leave the palace grounds
And ever since he was permitted to leave the palace, he made it a habit.
On every thursday without fail, He went to Hansheng Ge.
Each time, he asked for the same thing.
"Minwha."
Not for entertainment. Not for anything improper.
Only to speak with her. To become close to her
And each time— He was refused.
Madam rejected the request quietly, never allowing it to reach Minwha, never giving him a reason.
The Crown Prince remained unaware. So he did the only thing he could.
He sat among the crowd. Week after week.
Without his closest companion—Yi Ming, son of the Great Liang Southern General—he watched in silence.
Watched the girl he favored take the stage.
He watched her bloom like a lotus—graceful, untouchable.
Her movements flowed like a swan across water, effortless and elegant.
So close.
And yet— Completely out of reach.
Though he had been granted freedom beyond the palace walls… He still could not reach her.
And just like that, life moved on.
One year passed.
Then two.
Then three.
Minwha was now fourteen. The Crown Prince, seventeen—on the verge of eighteen.
Both had grown.
Both had changed. In both appearance and personality.
Refined by time in ways the other could not see.
Yet some things remained the same.
Every Thursday— He still came without fail.
And so, they each settled into their roles.
One danced. The other watched—from afar.
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On one fateful night, Minwha finally made a decision.
She had noticed him.
Every thursday, when she performed, he was always there.
Always watching.
It was finally time to meet him.
Just like in her past life on this night— After her performance, Minwha made her way toward the back garden.
The night air was cool. Quiet.
And just as before— A man followed her.
A creep. A man who had been watching her for far too long.
His presence crept too close, his hand reaching hers— pulling her towards himself
Sliding higher.
Minwha screamed. This time it was louder than before.
The next moment— The man was ripped away from her.
A body slammed violently against the stone.
The Crown Prince stood over him.
His eyes burned with something she had seen before.
Just like in her past life.
Rage.
Pure unrestrained rage.
His fists came down without mercy.
"How dare you," he growled, each word punctuated with a blow, "touch what is mine."
Minwha's breath caught.
Mine.
The same word. The same line.
Repeated.
"I have not even had the chance to speak to her properly," he continued coldly, "and you think you can lay hands on her?"
Blood stained his sleeve but he didn't stop.
This time— Minwha did not panic.
She waited.
Then, after a brief pause—when she deemed it enough—
"I'm alright… kind guest."
No formalities.
Just politeness.
The Crown Prince froze.
Her voice— For the first time, he was hearing it. His heart slammed violently against his chest.
Even her voice…
It was… beautiful.
He straightened quickly then turned around to face her.
"Who… are you, kind guest?" Minwha asked, her tone calm.
"I—I'm just someone who attends the performances," he replied stuttering a little.
"Oh?" she said, tilting her head slightly. "Then… were you following me?"
He stiffened.
"No! No, of course not!" he denied immediately, his face flushing red.
"I… I come here often. To rest."
A terrible excuse and he knew it.
Inside her mind, Vira spoke.
"Host… why does this Crown Prince feel different? Softer than how you described him before?"
Minwha didn't respond. Her attention remained fixed on him.
"I see," she said lightly. "Then… thank you, kind guest."
She turned, as if to leave.
"Wait—!"
The Crown Prince reached for her hand— Only to freeze mid-motion.
It was soft… impossibly so. He quickly pulled back.
"Sorry."
A beat of awkward silence.
" Do you need something from me kind guest?" Minwha asked
"You… shouldn't come here alone," he said, trying to regain composure. "It's dangerous."
"I understand," Minwha replied.
And this time— She left without looking back.
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The moment she disappeared from sight— The Crown Prince dropped to his knees.
He hit his forehead in frustration.
"You fool," he muttered harshly. "Why can't you speak properly?! You're the Crown Prince—act like it!"
"You almost made her think you were a creep…"
Unbeknownst to him— Minwha hadn't gone far. She stood just beyond the corner, watching every reaction.
Every word.
Inside her mind, Vira chuckled. "Well… he's quite cute."
Minwha gave a quiet hum of agreement.
Then she turned— And walked away.
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And so, time moved on.
After their brief encounter, a month passed without them meeting again.
The Crown Prince tried.
Every night, after the performances ended, he went to the back garden—hoping, just once, to see her again.
Hoping she would appear again—forgetting that he himself had told her not to come.
Each night— Minwha never appeared.
Or so he believed. And so, each time, he left in quiet disappointment.
What he didn't know was that Minwha was always there.
Hiding in the shadows. Watching him.
She knew he would come and yet, she chose not to reveal herself.
Not yet.
Night after night, his patience wore thinner.
The anticipation. The uncertainty.
The quiet frustration of being so close—yet unable to reach her.
Until finally— He had enough.
That night, instead of going to the garden, the Crown Prince made a different decision.
He requested a meeting with Madam.
And this time— It was granted.
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In Madam's office, the Crown Prince sat across from her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room was quiet, heavy with unspoken tension.
Then, he broke the silence.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
Madam inclined her head slightly. "Of course, Your Highness. You are the Crown Prince."
"Good," he said calmly. "Then I'll be direct."
His gaze sharpened.
"I want to request Minwha. Name your price."
Madam didn't react immediately. Instead, she answered evenly,
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Your Highness."
A pause.
"Minwha is not a gisaeng. She is a performer—and only a performer."
"I know that," he replied, his tone firm. "I don't need her to warm my bed."
A brief silence followed before he continued—
"I want her to perform for me. Exclusively."
"Every night."
That made Madam raise a brow. She studied him for a moment, as if reassessing something.
"I see…" she said slowly. "This is not a small request, Your Highness."
She folded her hands neatly.
"Allow me some time to consider it. You may return tomorrow for my answer."
"Fine," he said.
The Crown Prince stood. Before leaving, he reached into his robe and placed a small pouch on the table in front of her.
It landed with a soft, weighted sound.
"A little persuasion," he said lightly. "Don't let my mother know."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out.
The door closed behind him.
For a moment Madam said nothing.
She stared at the pouch.
Then— A quiet chuckle escaped her lips.
It wasn't mocking. It wasn't amused.
It was something softer.
Something distant.
Her fingers brushed lightly over the pouch as her gaze lowered.
"He really does…" she murmured softly.
"…look just like his father."
Her expression shifted just slightly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But enough to reveal a flicker of something buried deep within—
Memory.
And something dangerously close to affection.
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That same night, Madam sat alone in her chamber.
A brush in hand, she wrote a letter—detailing every word the Crown Prince had spoken.
Every request, every intention. Before sending it through the bird.
By dawn, a reply arrived.
Short and cold in its simplicity.
"Let him have his fun."
It was the same answer as in the past life, nothing had changed.
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The next day, the Crown Prince arrived early.
This time— He was not turned away.
"His Highness is permitted to see Minwha," Madam said calmly.
"Three times a week."
A flicker of surprise passed through his eyes—but it vanished just as quickly although he was suspicious.
It felt too easy, but he chose not to bother with it. Without hesitation, he placed a bank note on the table.
"A hundred silver notes," he said. "For two months."
A brief pause.
"I will bring more."
Madam glanced at the note, then back at him.
"Very well."
And just like that— The Crown Prince finally received what he had been seeking.
Permission.
Access.
A chance.
What he did not know— Was that this permission did not come from Madam.
It came from the Queen.
And just like before— She had chosen to allow it.
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On that very same day, Madam called Minwha to inform her.
As soon as Minwha arrived at Madam's office, Madam did not offer her a seat. Instead, she went straight to the point.
"Did you know the Crown Prince is asking for you?" Madam spoke.
"What?" Minwha replied, sounding shocked, though she already knew this would happen. After all, she had planned it.
"Yes," Madam said, studying her closely. "Tell me, Minwha… what did you do to get his attention?"
"I don't know, Madam. In fact, I have never met him. Why would the Crown Prince ask for me?" she replied calmly.
Madam observed her for a moment, but seeing nothing suspicious, she spoke again.
"I don't care about the reason. All I will say is this—know your place. All you are to do for him is perform. Nothing more. Do not cross the line. Do you understand?"
Minwha paused briefly before answering.
"I understand."
"Minwha… you're my favorite. Don't make me regret that."
"Yes, Madam," Minwha replied.
"You can go."
Minwha did as she was told and stepped out into the corridor.
The moment she was outside, Vira spoke.
"Host, congratulations. The plan is going as it should."
"Mmm." was all Minwha said.