Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 11

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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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Chapter 11
3. Young Master of the Namgung Clan
A dull throb pulsed behind my temples.
It wasn’t just that the protagonist I’d stumbled upon was in terrible shape—it was realizing that the present moment lay far earlier in the story’s timeline than I’d assumed.
In the novel, Namgung Hui’s first venture into the Martial World came at twenty. Yet the boy before me looked no more than twelve or thirteen at best.
Unlike Dangjung, who had already practiced the Banro Hwandong, this child moved and spoke with the clumsiness of a youth. So Namgung Hui was genuinely just a boy.
I offered him a light bow of acknowledgment.
“You are the Young Master, then.”
“That’s right. So show some respect.”
Irritation flared at his rudeness, but I swallowed it down.
By his own logic, he was the Young Master of the Namgung Clan. Young as he was, I couldn’t speak harshly to the boy who would become a cornerstone of the Five Great Families.
I took a deep breath, choosing my next words carefully. As befitted a maidservant, I should have simply maintained professional composure and guided Namgung’s guest to the Guest House without further comment.
“Yet here you are, Young Master of Namgung, spying on another school’s training. That hardly displays courtesy.”
Instead, I snapped. The rebuke tumbled out before I could stop it, and Namgung Hui’s eyes went wide with shock.
I bit my lip in immediate regret—but it was too late to take back.
Silence settled between us, thick and still.
‘That’s torn it. Elder Dangjung, if this goes sideways, I’m throwing your name around to save myself.’
I’d braced for him to rage at my impertinence, perhaps even lash out—but instead, Namgung Hui simply released his grip on my hand with careful restraint.
“I’m sorry.”
I hadn’t expected a genuine apology. My eyes blinked in surprise as he studied my expression nervously.
“Does it hurt much?”
“Pardon?”
“Your wrist.”
Namgung Hui murmured softly.
Following his gaze to my right wrist, I saw the marks of his grip left red against my skin—the exact spot where he’d held me.
In raising my voice, I’d unconsciously tightened my own grip.
‘So that’s why he apologized. At least the boy knows how to own his mistakes.’
The moment I noticed the red marks, pain I hadn’t felt before came rushing through all at once.
‘That’s going to bruise. Might even swell.’
As I frowned and gingerly touched my aching wrist, Namgung Hui hung his head and mumbled something.
“I’ll get you medicine.”
“There’s no need, Young Master. Were you perhaps lost? Shall I guide you to the Guest House?”
“I’m getting you medicine.”
Even at my polite refusal, Namgung Hui pressed stubbornly about the ointment.
Here was a well-raised young lord desperate to make amends but utterly without the means to do so.
He was still at an age where apologies came awkwardly. When I was his age, I…
No. Don’t think about that.
Just as I was about to decline again, a loud rumble echoed from nowhere.
Grrroowwwl!
Namgung Hui’s ears and the back of his neck flushed a deep crimson.
‘Ah. So he got hungry and wandered off, then lost his way.’
I bit back a laugh, but Namgung Hui covered his face and whined.
“I said I’d get you medicine! Just let me apply it!”
His embarrassment at the loud rumble was unmistakable. I nodded with all the sincerity I could muster, fighting not to smile.
‘Author, I’d like to request a protagonist swap, please.’
* * *
Namgung Hui marched into the Main Hall with unshakeable confidence and seated himself in the receiving room chair as if it were his own private study.
I worried Dangjung might be angry at the intrusion, yet I had no means to stop him.
Then again, perhaps Dangjung would welcome the visit. From what I could tell, the elder seemed to favor those with fierier temperaments.
Namgung Hui drew a silk pouch from his robe and rifled through it for some time before producing a small container of ointment, which he set on the table.
“Here. Apply it.”
“What is this?”
“Ointment made by my uncle. It’s good for bruises.”
‘As if I would know who your uncle is.’
I smiled silently, and Namgung Hui added defensively:
“Uncle Won Ryong is the master of the Medicinal Hall. You can trust it and use it.”
Learning that the Medicinal Hall’s own master had made it personally sent my confidence soaring. This was no ordinary thing for someone of my station to even lay eyes upon.
When my face brightened, Namgung Hui spoke with visible pride.
“It works well on open wounds too. Keep it.”
“Thank you very much.”
I didn’t refuse, reaching instead for the ointment.
It was exactly what maids needed—their hands perpetually cracking and scarring from work.
I’d have to apply some to Song Ji later as well.
Namgung Hui watched with satisfaction as I worked the ointment into my skin, then asked, “Haven’t you eaten lunch?”
“Not yet, Young Master. I’ll eat after I’ve attended to you.”
“Then let’s eat together.”
“I beg your pardon? That wouldn’t be proper. A mere maidservant sharing a table with you?”
“Why not? Yeon A drinks tea with Kyokyou every day.”
I had no idea who Yeon A was or who Kyokyou might be.
My confusion must have shown, because Namgung Hui explained.
“Yeon A is my youngest sister. Kyokyou is her attendant.”
……And?
I nodded earnestly, urging him to continue, but that was all he offered.
I turned the matter over in my mind, trying to grasp what he meant. It seemed he was saying that if his own sister took tea with her maidservant, there was no reason he couldn’t share a meal with me.
Besides, wandering lost before arriving here, the boy must be starving. I might as well feed him before sending him on his way.
I found the logic acceptable enough.
“Very well. Shall I prepare something here, Young Master?”
“Yes.”
Namgung Hui folded his arms across his chest and looked at me with an air of expectation.
A laugh escaped me—he was mimicking someone, his expression almost comically stern. There must be such an elder in his household.
As I let out a soft chuckle, Namgung Hui flinched, unfolded his arms, and straightened his posture with careful formality.
I began setting out the dishes that had been prepared for Dangjung. There was no one else to eat them anyway.
Watching me arrange the meal, Namgung Hui asked, “Have you ever left Sichuan?”
“No, Young Master. I’ve lived in the Dang Family Area my entire life.”
That was So Hye speaking, not me.
My flat answer seemed to prompt him to continue. “Don’t you want to visit Anhui? It’s a wonderful place.”
He was subtly boasting about his homeland, clearly proud of it. I smiled and turned the subject. “I’m not familiar with Anhui, only that it’s far. Is this your first time in Sichuan, Young Master?”
“It is. Five years ago, my sisters said the journey was too long for me, so I couldn’t go. I didn’t know how to ride then.”
“How old are you, Young Master?”
“Thirteen. How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
I wasn’t entirely certain, but that was likely close enough.
Namgung Hui’s brow furrowed—he hadn’t expected me to be older. He muttered something like “That won’t do” under his breath.
I pretended not to hear and set a plate of braised meat in front of him.
“Your sisters seem to care for you deeply, Young Master.”
“Yes. I’m the only son. I have three older sisters.”
Now I understood why the boy was childish yet arrogant for his age. As the sole male heir born after three daughters, he must have been raised as a treasure.
Undoubtedly spoiled, cherished like a jewel.
“Didn’t you mention a youngest sister as well?”
“Right, Yeon A. She’s the youngest.”
I found myself feeling sorry for whatever woman would marry into the Namgung household. Four sisters-in-law to contend with.
Anyone aspiring to become the Namgung Mistress of Household would have to accept four sisters-in-law, but I would never marry into such a situation.
“Mother and my sisters treat me like a child every single day, even though I’m grown now,” Namgung Hui grumbled.
“They worry about you, Young Master. That’s why.”
“Father went on his first Martial World journey with his uncles at my age. But this is my first time even leaving Anhui. I could do it too.”
He picked up a piece of stir-fried vegetables but, coughing suddenly, clamped his mouth shut.
He seemed unaccustomed to the Sichuan spices, his face twisting as he wheezed and coughed.
“Is it too spicy? Shall I bring you some tea?”
“I’m fine—cough, cough!”
“Would you prefer something milder prepared instead?”
“No, cough, cough! A member of the Namgung Clan never retreats.”
Namgung Hui spoke through watering eyes, his words hollow even as he struggled for breath.
That was hardly the right moment for such a declaration.
Watching this clumsy young man play at adulthood, I finally grasped just how foolish I must have been in the past.
An inexperienced boy mimicking maturity is transparent in his pretense, yet I failed to recognize it even when confronted with Dangjung’s strange behavior.
My observation skills had been abysmal.
I quietly set the teapot before him.

Namgung Hui perspired freely, yet methodically emptied his bowl of Sichuan cuisine. The way he ate without picky preferences suggested he’d grow tall and strong.
“Sit down quickly. You eat too.”
“Yes.”
As I took a seat at Namgung Hui’s urging, the boy with interlaced fingers posed a question.
“Have you ever tried Anhui cuisine?”
“No.”
“Anhui food is delicious too. It’s not quite as spicy, and um… the flavor is more refined.”
“I see.”
“Anhui has wonderful tea too! The Yunwu Tea from Huangshan is even enjoyed by the abbot of Shaolin.”
“Yes.”
Namgung Hui seemed eager to list every merit of Anhui, as though wanting to boast that his homeland was no inferior to Sichuan.
I nodded along and continued eating. The moment I set down my chopsticks, Namgung Hui’s eyes gleamed as he asked.
“You’re done?”
“Yes.”
“Then show me the Market District.”
“Pardon?”
“The Market District. I’m curious what Sichuan’s markets are like. Let’s go.”
At this awkward request, I laughed uncomfortably.
Dangjung had instructed me not to leave the Main Hall, and besides, I’d never been to the Market District myself.
How could I lead him somewhere when I didn’t even know where it was? I gently dissuaded the young master.
“Young Master, if you’re planning to venture out, you should first inform your companions of your destination…”
“We can’t let them find out. Father won’t allow it.”
“The guards at the outer gate will naturally notice you, Young Master.”
“I’ll just climb over the wall.”
“Young Master, I can’t climb walls. And you shouldn’t go about scaling other people’s walls like that.”
“It’s only three zhang high. If we slip over quietly, no one will notice. Come on.”
Did he not understand?
Three zhang was a euphemism—that height was nearly ten meters. A person leaping over something that tall would be impossible to miss.
More than that, I was no prodigy capable of bounding over a wall as tall as a three-story building.
I swallowed a sigh and lifted my head to scold the child, only to find the table empty.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you coming?”
A shout came from outside the window. Namgung Hui was already outside the Main Hall, waving his hand.
I rubbed my throbbing forehead.
Watching over a child is exhausting.

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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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