All Chapters of The Return of the Emperor: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Zane adjusted the blonde wig with a flick of his fingers and grinned at his reflection in the polished bronze mirror. Yeonho’s uniform fit him snugly, the weight of the sword at his hip both foreign and delicious. He puffed out his chest, strutting around the dorm room like a peacock who’d stolen another bird’s feathers.“So,” the kid, Tae, the nervous little physician—whispered as he scrambled to keep pace. “Did anyone recognize you?”Zane flashed a wide smile, revealing his gums. “Not at all,” he said, smug satisfaction dripping from every syllable. He turned on his heel dramatically, letting the cloak swirl around him. “I was nervous at first, sure. But now?” His grin deepened as he tapped his chest. “I feel invincible. Perfectly capable of carrying myself. After all…” He sprawled across Yeonho’s bed as though it were a throne, folding his arms behind his head. “All those years in the mafia paid off.”The young physician blinked, frowning. “Ma…phia? What’s that?”He almost wanted t

Zane leaned against the cold marble just outside the throne room. The Crown Prince was inside with the King and Princess Vaani—while he, supposedly Yeonho, stood outside like a loyal dog.A loyal dog who did not trust the other mutt posted beside him.Kim Gguk. The boy with the stiff shoulders and side-eyes sharp enough to cut glass. Zane caught him glancing again and almost laughed. To anyone else, maybe he looked harmless. But Zane knew better. Because under that boyish face and docile act lurked Lorenzo Kim. The man who had practically danced over their corpses in another life.Now here they were again, forced to play nice in a palace full of knives.The sun had already slid past the horizon, bleeding the last of its gold across the palace walls, and the bells of dinner would toll soon. Inside, the royalty were probably deciding the fate of that poor family princess brought from the woods. Zane didn’t care much. He only half-listened to the murmurs drifting from beyond the heavy d

“Is this it?” the king demanded. His voice boomed, iron on silk. “Is this all that happened?” He leaned forward, and the throne room leaned with him. It felt like a beast that had swallowed the daylight whole. Lanterns guttered behind latticed screens; carved eaves threw long, serrated shadows across the polished wooden floor. Silk banners stitched with coiling dragons hung from the rafters, their embroidered eyes catching torchlight like accusations. The king sat on the raised dais—black robes heavier than the chair itself—his crown a circlet of hammered gold that made him look less a man and more a Herald of Verdicts. Around him the court stood stiff as bone: ministers with folded palms, guards in battered cuirasses, and the crown prince who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.Zane felt the weight of those eyes like a blade. Sweat had mapped fine rivers across his forehead. He forced his expression into its practiced mask—Yeonho’s expression—calm, closed, inevitable. “I’ve tol

The road into the valley town was quiet, hushed in the way of places that kept secrets. Yeonho arrived with his clothes torn and blood stiff on his sleeves, his arm wrapped in makeshift leaves and bandages by Princess Vaani. He had forced himself forward on instinct alone, until the walls of the famed School of Medical Sciences rose before him — the place Kim Tae mentioned, the place where the forbidden brews were said to slumber under lock and key.At the gate, two guards stiffened at his approach. He straightened, brushing back the mess of his hair. “My name is Ka—”“Mr Kang Yeonho,” one finished for him with a bow, smiling as if greeting an old friend. “The Crown Prince’s guard. Who doesn’t know you?”His jaw tightened. Fame was not what he had come for.They escorted him in without hesitation, across stone courtyards that smelled of boiled herbs and ink. At the heart of the school sat the master’s quarters, and Yeonho braced himself for a sage of a hundred years, beard flowing to

The streets of Namgyeol were as busy as Yeonho had left them. Lanterns swung over shopfronts, laughter spilled from tea houses. The press of bodies in the marketplace rush pushed Yeonho forward without needing to walk.His clothes still smelled faintly of herbs and bitter draughts, the remnants of his unwanted stay at the medical school. But for the first time in days, there were no arrows in his back, no physicians hovering, no potions clouding his veins—only the comfort of home.While heading to the palace, his gaze snagged on a stall near the square, a humble wooden frame strung with gleaming silver and tiny bells. Anklets—dozens of them—catching the firelight like captive stars. Yeonho slowed, observing them.The vendor, an old woman with bright eyes and nimble fingers, leaned over the display. “These are imported from Dharakand,” she said, jangling one of the anklets so that its bells sang. “Women love this jewelery piece.”Yeonho reached out almost unconsciously, fingers grazing