49 Lives Left, Master! Chapter 1

All chapters are in 49 Lives Left, Master!

Chapter 1.
Master, Did you hate your disciple?

 

On the glorious day when my disciple ascended to the throne as the emperor, the gift he bestowed upon his master was poison.

At first, there was no reason to be suspicious. The civil and military officials all knelt and bowed before the disciple, and he confidently strode to the radiant throne. His many brothers and sisters, who had survived the silent yet brutal competition, glared as they watched the once disregarded 13th Prince claim victory.

No longer would the newly crowned emperor be looked down upon as the illegitimate child of a palace maid. Those who dared to mock him as an illegitimate child would now have to stake their lives and the lives of their families.

Seated on the throne, he smiled at me, and the people murmured softly among themselves. I, too, faintly smiled back and nodded my head at him.

As the banquet began and the atmosphere gradually relaxed, perceptive individuals approached me with flattery.

“You only have to soar from now on, Grand Scholar Yo.”

“Isn’t His Majesty a person who deeply respects his only master?”

“Indeed, His Majesty has always treated Grand Scholar Yo with utmost respect.”

“Grand Scholar Yo’s future shines brightest among us. How enviable.”

If you look at history, most of the emperors’ masters were very old men who, despite holding the title of Grand Scholar, lacked the energy to wield any real power. But my disciple and I were different. Neither of us was that old. I was younger than most of the officials swarming around me with praise, so it made sense that they were eager to curry favor.

It was during the height of these praises and while I was enjoying the banquet that my disciple called for me.

“Grand Scholar Yo, His Majesty wishes to see you privately.”

My disciple had sent his closest eunuch to summon me, and I followed him. The eunuch led me to an empty room not far from the banquet hall. The place was peculiar. There was no other furniture, only a single table. On that table was a white bowl containing a thick, dark brown liquid that resembled medicine.

My disciple, now the emperor, stood before that table.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?”

Wondering why he had called me to such a place, I asked politely. The emperor smiled gently and handed me the bowl of medicine.

“Please, drink it, Master. I’ve personally prepared this medicine for you.”

He offered no further explanation—why he had called me here, why he was suddenly giving me medicine. But the moment I laid eyes on that bowl, I immediately felt a chilling sensation.

How much blood had been spilled for him to ascend to the throne? How many families that were intact just yesterday were destroyed by dawn the next day? As someone who had criticized him each time, there was no way I couldn’t notice something strange in this situation.

If it were merely a tonic or an elixir, there was no need to prepare it separately here. In that case… I stared at the bowl and then looked at my disciple.

“This is…”

Is it poison? I couldn’t bring myself to utter those words and trailed off. But it seemed he understood. When our eyes met, he smiled softly and answered.

“Yes, it’s poison.”

A chilling sensation ran down my spine, and I felt a surge of impulse to turn around and flee. I glanced at the door. But I knew. I couldn’t escape. Absolutely not. This entire palace was under his control. My hands began to tremble. As I looked at him with eyes filled with disbelief, he spoke in a gentle voice, not at all like someone offering poison.

“Go on, drink it, Master. You’re the only Grand Scholar. At the very least, you should keep your dignity on your final journey. It would be disgraceful if you were caught trying to run away.”

Even when I didn’t take the bowl, he took a few steps closer and brought it directly to my face.

The bitter scent of death reached my nose first.

“My troublesome master… Must I feed this to you myself?”

“…Your Majesty.”

“Drink it, please.”

“Y-Your Majesty.”

My voice trembled uncontrollably. I looked up at him while holding the bowl. My disciple, who was at least three heads taller than me, looked ready to force the poison down my throat if I didn’t drink it willingly. His expression was gentle, but the cold determination in his eyes made it clear that he wouldn’t back down. As I saw his expression, a surge of injustice welled up in my chest, and I asked.

“Why are you trying to kill me?”

He asked back.

“Why do you think?”

“Is it because… I’m unworthy? Because I’m a young Grand Scholar and you think I’ll become a hindrance to your rule?”

I was always the one to criticize his ruthless and cold-hearted decisions. When he was a prince, he endured my nagging. But now that he was emperor, did he feel he no longer had to put up with it?

He burst into laughter and said.

“For now, just drink this. Once you’ve taken it, I’ll tell you the story slowly on your way to the underworld.”

“Your Majesty…”

“Even if I can’t accompany you on that road, as your disciple, I should at least see you off on your final journey, shouldn’t I?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. But once he had decided on my death, I didn’t have many options. As he said, I could die disgracefully or accept it with some dignity.

In the end, I took the bowl and gulped down the poison, one mouthful at a time, with trembling hands.

Contrary to its appearance, the poison tasted sweet. After drinking the entire bowl, I lowered it, and my disciple smiled faintly.

“I added a lot of sugar because you dislike bitter things, Master.”

How considerate. I couldn’t bring myself to say it, despite drinking poison. The poison was so potent that only a few breaths later, my insides began to churn, and blood started trickling from my nose. The sensation of something blocking my throat became overwhelming, and eventually, blood spurted from my mouth as well.

With blood dripping from my nose and mouth, I cried as I looked at my disciple. For the first time, his eyes wavered slightly. Or was that just my imagination?

“It won’t hurt for long.”

The 13th Prince whispered softly as he watched me.

“I know because I’ve taken it myself.”

He spoke absurd words as he looked directly into my eyes and smeared the blood from my lips onto my cheek. I wasn’t crying on purpose, but the tears kept falling.

Ever since the 13th Prince joined the battle for the throne, I was dragged into the chaos against my will. To attack him, his political opponents relentlessly tormented me, his only master. Yet, after overcoming all those hardships, what I receive from my disciple is poison. It’s too unfair.

Yes, it’s true that I didn’t like my disciple. Perhaps I wasn’t the kindest of masters. Before I was forcibly put in the same boat as him, I tried to keep my distance. But that’s all it was. I didn’t betray him, did I? Even though I was dragged into the same boat as him, once I realized his exceptional talent, I even rowed alongside him while crying!

“Why… Why are you trying to kill me?”

If I didn’t know the reason, I’d feel so wronged that I might turn back even on my way to the underworld. Even though my throat was boiling with blood, I asked. As soon as I spoke, strength left my legs, and darkness rapidly enveloped my vision. Someone supported my body. When my sight cleared slightly, I found myself leaning against my disciple’s body.

He brushed back my hair, which was probably a complete mess, and whispered.

“I promised to tell you, didn’t I, Master? Master, I’ve lived this life many times before.”

What?

“Do you know what’s strange? Every single time, you killed me. Always. This poison I’m giving you now is the same poison you used to kill me in previous lives.”

“That’s… nonsense.”

“You don’t have to believe it if it’s hard to accept. But I’ve definitely died many times. And each time, I’ve returned to my childhood, reliving the same life.”

It sounds absurd. But thinking back, it’s true that my disciple seemed to avoid every hardship and misfortune as if he could see the future. Even his enemies back then were astonished, wondering if the 13th Prince possessed precognitive abilities.

More blood poured out of me. Yet, the feeling of injustice didn’t subside. No matter what I did in his previous lives, haven’t I been a normal master in this one?

“Do you hate me?”

“I was curious too, Master. Did you hate me?”

“!”

A short sigh fell over my head.

“You forced the bowl into my mouth, Master. I cried and begged you, saying you were the only one I had, and to please not do this, but you killed me in the end. I’m still curious. Did you hate me that much, Master?”

***

I don’t know if the master heard his final words. Looking down quietly at his blood-stained master’s face, Hwayeo confirmed that the movements had completely ceased.

“In the end, I never got that answer.”

He laid down the corpse he was holding and stood up. His ceremonial robe was soaked in blood, but he didn’t care in the slightest.

“Well, it’s an answer I no longer need. Farewell, Master. Don’t be too upset. There are still 49 times left if I’m to repay you equally.”

When Hwayeo opened the door himself, the shadows standing guard outside the room, prepared for any eventuality, stepped aside to make way.

“Grand Scholar…?”

“Dispose of the corpse.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Hwayeo, who gave the order without a trace of emotion, did not return to the banquet hall. Instead, he started walking in the opposite direction.

“I’ve finally avenged myself against my enemy.”

Hwayeo murmured softly as he walked down the long corridor, clad in his blood-stained ceremonial robe. The long fabric of the red robe trailed on the ground like blood as he walked.

The shadows, following him quietly, wondered to themselves what kind of enemy the emperor, who had only ever known victory, could have had. Hwayeo’s lips curled slightly as he recalled his life before his regression.

The one who killed him was always his master, but the master was not the mastermind behind everything. The true masterminds behind his master varied each time. Every time, no matter who the enemy was, his master would team up with them and come to kill him. And in the final life, the mastermind behind his master was the 5th Princess. The 5th Princess whom his master would have preferred to serve over the troublesome “13th Prince.”

Hwayeo’s smile deepened. He should have killed her sooner, but he purposely kept her alive to kill her last.

‘Elder Sister, you won’t die a peaceful death.’

At that moment, a shadow who had run over urgently stopped him and spoke.

“Your Majesty. It’s about the Grand Scholar.”

Hwayeo halted and frowned as he turned around.

“Did he come back to life?”

“No, Your Majesty. It’s… I found out while trying to change the Grand Scholar’s clothes, and…”

The shadow, uncharacteristically flustered, hesitated, causing Hwayeo’s gaze to turn icy. The eunuch standing beside the emperor signalled with his eyes for the shadow to continue speaking quickly, and the shadow hurriedly reported.

“The Grand Scholar… was a woman.”

“I see.”

However, unlike the shadow, Hwayeo was not greatly surprised. He had lived 51 lives and died 50 times. Many things had happened. He had already known that his master was a woman disguised as a man.

“What does it matter if the corpse is a man or a woman?”

The fact that his master was a woman did not change the fact that she had killed him before his regression. Since Hwayeo showed little interest, the shadow bowed and quietly stepped back.

Hwayeo turned around again and walked down the corridor, opening the door to the room where the 5th Princess was confined. Inside sat a breathtakingly beautiful woman, akin to a tiger, with her hands tied behind her back and seated on a chair.

The people of the empire often referred to the 13th Prince, Hwayeo, and the 5th Princess, Seoryeo, as “Hwaeumyangok.” It was a term used to praise the beauty of the most handsome prince and princess in the empire. But their lives were completely different.

The 5th Princess, Seoryeo, was the first child born of the Empress and the legitimate firstborn daughter, receiving the love of the entire nation. On the other hand, Hwayeo, born of a lowly ninth-ranked court lady, was scorned for having “the lowest status mother” and being an illegitimate child because his mother died giving birth to him.

Yet, the victory belonged to that illegitimate 13th Prince.

Hwayeo’s lips curved in satisfaction. At that moment, Hwayeo frowned as he heard a distant bell ringing.

‘That sound…?’

It was the sound he had heard at the moment of his death in previous lives. The sound he always heard right before he woke up after regressing—a bell tolling from some distant place, as if coming from a castle in the underworld.

“Who is ringing the bell?”

Hwayeo asked coldly, but the shadows looked puzzled and asked, “Pardon?” The 5th Princess, who had been silent, stared at him with a strange look. For the first time, a hint of confusion appeared in Hwayeo’s calm eyes.

‘Could it be…!’

***

“Could it be on purpose?”

“…”

“Answer me, Sister! I’m asking you!”

“…”

“Hey! Yo Yo-hwa! Are you listening to me?!”

A sharp voice snapped me back to my senses. When I came to, my younger sister, Linhwa, was standing in front of me, shouting angrily. I looked at her blankly and then, flustered, glanced around.

“Where’s my disciple?”

Where’s my disciple, dressed in his ceremonial robe, and why is Linhwa here? My disciple was nowhere to be seen. Moreover, this wasn’t the empty room in the Palace where the poison was given. This was just the yard of our home. I stared at Linhwa in confusion, and then it dawned on me—Linhwa’s age… had gotten younger?

As I stood there in disbelief, Linhwa spoke in a harsh tone.

“Your disciple? That foolish 13th Prince? Are you bringing up that as your backing against me right now?”

“Foolish 13th Prince?” Wasn’t he supposed to be the terrifying emperor who killed off all his troublesome siblings to ascend the throne? Foolish 13th Prince? That was a nickname people only used when he was still hiding his ambitions and biding his time!

I stared blankly at Linhwa, and then I remembered what my disciple had told me as I lay dying. That he had died over and over again in past lives and returned to his childhood each time.

Yes. He had said he regressed after dying.

Could it be? Could this really be…?

‘Was his regression real?’

 

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