Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 29

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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 29
“Seven… Elder Seven…!”
The startled maids bowed hastily. Shim Yang lowered his eyes as though he couldn’t fathom when the old man had appeared.
Hearing the maids call out to Dang Geun-myeong by his title, I too snapped my eyes wide in shock.
This man was an elder of the clan?
No, that can’t be right. Who assigns a family elder to personal service like that?
“We have guests at the house. Such vulgar roughhousing — do you mean to drag the Dang name through the mud?”
“No, no, sir…! We were only trying to teach this insolent child some manners…!”
“You’ve overstepped. You know better than anyone what becomes of those who harm the household staff.”
At the frost in his voice, Shim Yang pressed himself flat against the floor. But Dang Geun-myeong seemed to have no more interest in the matter; he waved his hand dismissively.
“Go back to your duties. I will inform the Steward of today’s business.”
“Yes, yes, understood, Elder Seven…!”
Before Dang Geun-myeong had finished speaking, Shim Yang’s gang scattered like leaves. Even Shim Yang himself fled, crawling nearly on his belly.
The pitiful sight of him wriggling away grew smaller and smaller.
In an instant, Dang Geun-myeong had brought order to the chaos. He turned to face me.
“You.”
“Yes… yes?”
Dang Geun-myeong seemed about to speak, but his nose wrinkled and he closed his mouth. He appeared to be struggling against the stench that emanated from me.
After a soft cough, he produced a clean length of cotton cloth and tossed it to me.
“Wipe yourself.”
“Thank you.”
I quickly took it and wiped my face, then he reproached me.
“Don’t cause trouble. The old master has enough burdens without adding to them.”
“Haha… couldn’t this stay between us? Just this once?”
“No.”
His answer was firm. Dang Geun-myeong turned his back on me without another word — he’d only interfered because of Dang Jung, and clearly I held no interest for him whatsoever.
I was finished.
Now that Dang Geun-myeong had seen me, it was only a matter of time before word reached Dang Jung. He’d scolded me to stay out of trouble, and now I could already picture his face as he prepared to scold me again.
I let out a heavy sigh and pinched my nose.
Whether I was going to be scolded or not, one thing was clear — I desperately needed a wash.
* * *
It didn’t take long to realize how wretched I looked. Everyone I passed swerved to avoid me.
As I entered the Servants’ quarters dripping with filth, the first thing I heard made it worse.
“A… a… a ghost…!”
A maid from the neighboring quarters saw me, squealed, and hid behind a post, muttering words I couldn’t make out—she seemed to be chanting an incantation to ward off spirits.
Being mistaken for a ghost was pushing it.
“I’m not a ghost.”
“A… a ghost…! P-please… speak…!”
“I’m not a ghost, so I’m speaking.”
“A… a ghost…? You’re… not? Really?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m a person.”
Only then did the maid seem to relax. She peeked her face cautiously from behind the post.
“Oh… you? W-what… what happened to you? How did you… get like that?”
“Good question. Haha.”
I wanted to know that myself.
I laughed hollowly, and the maid, who’d been watching nervously, shuffled forward hesitantly.
“It’s… it’s still cold out there… Do you have… do you have dry clothes? M-my… would my clothes… would you like to b-borrow some?”
Her voice was full of concern but carried an uncertain quality—she sounded like a child struggling with her words.
“Would that really be alright? My laundry isn’t fully dry yet.”
“Y-yes! J-just wait a moment!”
The maid nodded vigorously and hurried off to her quarters, returning with fresh clothes.
“H-here. These… oh, should I… should I take you to your quarters too?”
“I’d really appreciate that.”
“Y-yes. Let’s go together. S-So Hye…? That’s right? Those… Shim Yang and his gang… I heard they… they b-bother you…?”
“They did this to me, so you could say they bother me.”
“Th-those kids… they’re really… really b-bad…!”
“Does Shim Yang bother you too?”
“R-recently… no, not so much. B-but before, they’d… they’d keep p-poking people… they’re such m-mean kids!”
The maid seemed to have pent-up frustrations of her own; she let out a sharp cry.
The maid I was meeting for the first time was named Gyeong-a.
Gyeong-a was a year younger than me, and she said she helped the cooks in the kitchen.
Perhaps that’s why her hands moved with such deftness. Gyeong-a fetched an entire jar of hot water from the kitchen and helped me prepare for my bath.
Despite her slow way of speaking, Gyeong-a adjusted the bath water temperature with brisk, efficient movements, then pressed a rice bran pouch into my hands.
Apparently unsatisfied even with that, she brought a large wooden basin brimming with water.
“Use, use this…. If you, you wash with water boiled with iris leaves and…. The smell will, will fade.”
“Thank you.”
“Your, your hair…. There’s so much, so much stuck in it…. Could you, you bend over this way?”
As Gyeong-a picked away at whatever unidentifiable debris clung to my hair, she began chattering away about herself.
“I, I draw, water from the well…. Or, or I wash the dishes.”
“Doesn’t hauling water up with the bucket and rope hurt your hands? I only did water-drawing duty for a little while, but every time I drew water I wanted to fill that well in and be done with it.”
“That’s, that’s right! The, the rope on that bucket…. If you pull it wrong, your, your hands get scraped….”
“Exactly. I’m telling you. Does your palm still hurt? I have some really good medicinal ointment. Want me to apply it later?”
It’s definitely effective—it’s medicinal ointment made by the head physician of the Namgung Clan, apparently.
At my offer, Gyeong-a’s eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly.
“I’d, I’d like that….”
“All right. Once you’re done with your bath, I’ll come to your quarters.”
“Um, yes! Did you, did you do water-drawing duty all alone? It, it must have been so hard…. Everyone, everyone tries to avoid it…. Because it’s, it’s the hardest job….”
“It wasn’t too bad. Kitchen work must be incredibly demanding though. That has to be exhausting.”
“Oh, it’s fine. Learning from the other cooks, watching what they do…. is actually fun. And I, I want to…. become a side dish preparer someday….”
“A side dish preparer?”
“Yes, the person who, who makes side dishes. Who prepares the…. the food.”
“You like cooking?”
“Yes! I, I really…. enjoy making food. I, I can’t dare touch anything yet…. but someday I will….”
Gyeong-a trailed off shyly after voicing her ambition. It sounded like she wanted to someday make dishes alongside the other cooks. Kitchen work seemed to suit her temperament.
Gyeong-a had been at the Dang Household for about half a year, she said. Before that, she’d helped cooks and done odd jobs at a small inn.
No wonder her hands were so capable—she was an experienced worker.
“So how old were you when you started working?”
“Ten, ten years old…!”
“Oh my.”
An age when one was lucky to memorize multiplication tables, and she’d been working since then. I found myself at a loss for words.
My gaze drifted unbidden to her small shoulders. I knew I shouldn’t measure her by modern standards, but I couldn’t help the unease that settled in my chest.
“Do, do you hate hearing this?”
“Hate hearing what?”
“It’s, it’s just…. that the other girls…. told me not to, not to talk…. They said it’s, it’s tedious to listen to….”
Gyeong-a dropped her gaze despondently, apparently thinking I found her tedious.
“It’s fine. I don’t find it tedious.”
Her face brightened at my casual reassurance.
“Then, then…. I’m glad. Here, here’s a towel….”
“Thank you. Do I still smell?”
“No, no, no, you don’t anymore!”
Gyeong-a beamed with satisfaction as she handed me clean clothes to change into. But there was one more problem.
“Oh, this is a real problem….”
“Too short?”
“Yeah. Really…. short.”
Gyeong-a’s skirt was short on me, the hem riding up to expose my ankles.
I thought of someone who’d been horrified at such immodesty and tried pulling down the hem, but my ankles remained visible no matter what.
As I puzzled over what to do, a familiar voice called out.
“Hey! So Hye, are you in here?”
“Song Ji? I’m here!”
Song Ji came running at my call, pushing open the door and poking her head inside.
“You’ve bathed? You’re soaking wet. But that’s not important. Dang Jung is looking for you. He wants you at his quarters right away.”
“Grandfather is?”
“Yes. Dang Geun-myeong just visited him.”
Song Ji answered with an anxious face. Gyeong-a also stared at me with her mouth hanging open.
I pressed my forehead wearily with my hand.
Damn it. He must have heard about the trouble I caused.
* * *
When I arrived at Dang Jung’s quarters, the sun was sinking low on the horizon.
Seeing the ruddy sunset settling in, it seemed to be around six o’clock. In local time…. Yes. The You hour.
I pulled down the short skirt and cleared my throat.
“Ahem. Grandfather, I’m going inside.”
“Come in, child.”
As I entered the reception room, I saw Dang Jung sitting with a troubled expression, fiddling with a teacup. He didn’t even look at me as he grumbled.
“I told you to stay put for just one hour, and here you are causing trouble the moment my back is turned.”
“Ah, well. It wasn’t intentional… but I’m sorry.”
“Thank goodness Geun-myeong happened to see what was happening. If the Steward had intervened directly, more people would have come to know of you. I’ve told you time and again to keep a low profile.”
As he lectured, Dang Jung lifted his head, and his gaze found me.
At that very moment, the teacup in his hand shattered, scattering in all directions. I tried to cover my neck, but I was a moment too late.
Dang Jung’s face twisted in fury as he lurched to his feet.
“W-what? The last piece of Jingdezhen porcelain you had treasured so carefully—”
“What damnable wretch dared to lay hands on your face? I’ll tear them apart—!”
“My face?”
Startled, I reached up and felt a thin, shallow cut along my cheekbone. It seemed my face had been nicked when my neck was struck.
Unaware of my injury until that moment, I flinched at the discovery, while Dang Jung pressed his temples with sharp, deliberate taps.
“So Hye, you’re going to be the death of me. What torment is this in my twilight years…”
He heaved a series of heavy sighs before stepping close to examine my face carefully.
“Such a lovely face, and now this. How distressing… Is it only your face that’s hurt? Nowhere else?”
“I’m fine. It’s not a serious wound.”
“Does it pain you?”
“No. I’m all right.”
“We can’t have it scarring. Let me apply the ointment.”
Once he’d settled me into a chair, Dang Jung carefully applied the medicinal ointment, and then, still anxious, wrapped my neck with clean cloth.
I awkwardly twisted my fingers together.
It was such a minor scrape, yet seeing Dang Jung so upset—as though I’d broken a bone—made me feel oddly strange.
The young master who once spoke carelessly of wounds, saying blood alone wasn’t fatal, had changed so completely. Without meaning to, I felt a flutter low in my belly.
He retrieved the ointment jar, murmuring about how serious this was, and gently stroked my cheek.
There was a sorrowful gentleness in his eyes, as if he were looking upon an overturned tortoise.
“You’re too meek—letting yourself be beaten wherever you go…”
Sir. I fought back.
“An old man’s tongue runs loose. Better to strike first than be bullied into silence. Go on—strike back at them.”
“Pardon?”
“Let me teach you something, child. When someone threatens you, you must…”
I already did fight back. And is it really appropriate to teach someone to go around striking people?
Dang Jung’s expression sharpened as he began reeling off the vulnerable points on the human body—any one of which could paralyze a person in an instant.
Faced with a recitation so in need of self-censorship, I could only laugh helplessly, closing my eyes.

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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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