I Became My Ex-Boyfriend’s Concubine - Chapter 58

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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 58

The air in the Sangui-won was always damp.
A bitter reek of dye pricked at the nostrils, and fine dust rose from the silk.
Though it bore responsibility for the royal court’s splendor, its true nature was no different from a vast ant colony hidden beneath five-colored silk.
Upon the highest platform of that shadowy ant colony stood a single work desk, solitary and imposing.
It was the seat of Kang Sang-sik, the Director of the Sangui-won.
“I told you all to keep working! What, you can’t do your jobs properly?!”
Kang Sang-sik.
He was the supreme administrator over every artisan and embroiderer in the Sangui-won.
He had one rigid rule of conduct: bow and scrape before those above, work those below to the bone.
It was the classic form of Kang-yak-yak-kang, though he paid no heed to any criticism of it. After all, in this place he was the law, and no one dared defy him.
He had deliberately erected the high platform in the deepest reach of the Sangui-won so he could survey everything at a glance.
His daily habit was to sit there with his legs stretched out, then bark and shout whenever something grated on him, depending on his mood.
So when the messenger arrived this morning, it was enough to unsettle his usual composure.
“Is this truly the case?”
“The Gwi-in Dan-bi is coming here?”
Kang Sang-sik clicked his tongue as he watched the embroiderers below suddenly stop and look up at him.
Sensing the strange shift in the air, even the sound of hammers striking metal from deeper inside ceased.
The artisans, who had been sweating under the heat of the braziers, began one by one to crane their necks in curiosity.
At the front of them all, the man Gwon’s brow furrowed.
“What did you just say? The Gwi-in Dan-bi is coming here?”
“That’s what I said!”
Myeong-i, who had been sitting at the front, shot up from her seat. As all eyes turned toward her, she waved the needle in her hand and continued speaking.
“The Gwi-in Dan-bi has asked His Majesty to let her work directly here at the Sangui-won!”
The Sangui-won erupted in a flurry of movement. Kang Sang-sik’s eyes narrowed with malice.
“That makes no sense.”
“Why would the Gwi-in Dan-bi come here?”
Even as they protested with their mouths, the artisans’ bodies were already leaning eagerly toward Myeong-i.
With dozens of ears now hanging on her words, Myeong-i’s shoulders bounced with excitement. She hopped up onto her chair and waved a spool of thread like a conductor’s baton.
“I heard it with these two ears myself!”

The Laundry Area behind the Sangui-won.
Water splashed everywhere as dyed silk was being rinsed—a place where all manner of court secrets were aired and laundered along with the garments.
It had been just this morning.
It was while Myeong-i was straining behind a rock to scrub the bloodstains from the red Jeogori that His Majesty had worn at the Sa-nyang-teo.
The palace women who brought the laundry had no idea Myeong-i was there, and they had begun gossiping in hushed tones.

“Did you hear? The Gwi-in Dan-bi asked His Majesty to let her work at the Sangui-won?”
“Really? Why would such a noble person want to come to this rough place?”
“I don’t know either. But didn’t you see the Chief Seamstress go directly to the Director? The way he’s moving so urgently, it must be something serious, don’t you think?”

Myeong-i held her breath and perked up her ears. The women paid no attention to anyone hiding behind the rock and spoke all the louder.

“Could it be she wants to sew an outfit to present directly to His Majesty?”
“No way.”
“Why not? Who else receives the royal favor as much as the Gwi-in Dan-bi these days? The bond between them is so deep—it’s practically bursting with devotion.”
“You’re right. You’d need that kind of skill to rise to Gwi-in without ever taking her place in the royal chambers, wouldn’t you?”

Myeong-i stared blankly at the retreating figures of the three palace women, then rushed straight back to the Sangui-won.
She immediately summoned the embroiderers and poured out what she had heard, but all she got in return was a snort of derision.
That was hardly surprising—the very idea of giving a husband a gift of clothing she had sewn with her own hands was bizarre enough, and the fact that it was Dan-bi, who had risen to the rank of Gwi-in, made it laughable.
Anyone who had worked the floors of the Sangui-won for long would have scoffed at such a notion a hundred times over.
But the moment Kang Sang-sik, standing on his platform, issued the order: “The Gwi-in Dan-bi is coming—prepare yourselves,” the rumor became truth.
A stunned silence fell over the workshop. Gwon, who stood at the front, planted his hands on his hips and asked pointedly.
“What on earth is the reason? Why is such a noble person coming here?”
All eyes fixed on the platform at once. Under the weight of their stares, Kang Sang-sik’s brow creased in discomfort.
“The Gwi-in Dan-bi says there is an outfit she wishes to have made with the skill of this workshop.”
“Good heavens, it’s really true!”
“How wonderful—she’s actually coming!”
The seamstresses seized upon one another with barely contained excitement.
In the chaos, Myeong-i lifted her shoulders with unmistakable triumph. What she’d overheard at the Laundry Area matched the rumor perfectly, not a word out of place.
“All of you, settle down this instant!”
Kang Sang-sik’s bark quieted the commotion, though barely—the craftsmen remained consumed with covert glances.
He drew a heavy sigh watching them.
The truth was, when the eunuch had brought word that morning, Kang Sang-sik had doubted his own ears.
Concubines of the inner court were creatures who never set foot near the Sangui-won unless dissatisfied with their garments, when they’d send someone to pester and demand alterations.
But to come and make clothing herself?
He’d received no report of what she meant to create.
If, as that girl Myeong-i had claimed, it was garments for the King himself, matters would grow far more complicated.
The King’s wardrobe was notorious for requiring meticulous, exacting craftsmanship in every single stitch.
And if Dan-bi the Gwi-in added her oversight to it all, an ominous certainty seized him—his days of peace were finished. The premonition ran like ice down his spine.
Above all, Kang Sang-sik had never possessed any talent for attending to others. He’d held the position of master craftsman at the Sangui-won for so long, wielding authority like a king.
The very thought of bowing his head to someone entering his own domain unsettled him deeply. His pride smarted at the fear of losing face before his subordinates.
Yet watching those fools already gaping with excitement at news of the Gwi-in’s arrival ignited a spark of fury in his chest.
“Mind your tongues, all of you! You’re in the presence of Dan-bi, the Gwi-in, who holds the King’s singular favor. Understood?”
Kang Sang-sik raised his index finger with deliberate gravity.
“As you know, the Sangui-won is a place that holds law and protocol as sacred as life itself.”
His stern lecture proved futile. The seamstresses and craftsmen turned to look at him for a moment, then just as quickly turned away and resumed their gossiping as if he’d never spoken.
Kang Sang-sik bit the inside of his lower lip, feeling openly dismissed.
So be it. However noble a Gwi-in might be, so long as Kang Sang-sik drew breath, he would not let her treat this place as her own private chamber.
He’d weathered decades in this craft since his predecessor’s time. He understood well that the first move—seizing the initiative—was the cardinal law of any workshop.
He was steeling himself to maintain his dignity as master craftsman, resolved not to be swayed by anything, when—
—that grim resolve scattered like dust the moment the expected Gwi-in crossed the threshold into the Sangui-won.
“Oh? What—Kang Sang-sik!”
Watching a woman’s face light up at the sight of him, hurrying toward him with open delight, he tilted his head in confusion.
She approached without hesitation and suddenly seized his hand in both of hers.
At this unprecedented and bizarre show of familiarity from a woman he’d never seen before, his jaw dropped open.
The shock wasn’t his alone. The craftsmen and seamstresses standing nearby had also gone slack-jawed, staring.
Indifferent to their reactions, she simply continued, shaking his captured hand up and down.
“Wow, how wonderful to see you here! I’m so happy to run into you, Kang Sang-sik!”
“Who… who are you?”
“It’s me, it’s me! I’m—”
“My lady!”
A palace attendant rushed forward and wrenched the woman’s hand away.
“Please, Gwi-in Dan-bi—”
“Som-a.”
“You mustn’t conduct yourself this way, Your Highness.”
What? This woman was that Gwi-in Dan-bi?
Kang Sang-sik’s eyes widened so far they nearly bulged from their sockets.

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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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