Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 4
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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 4
“I don’t know my parents.”
As I shook my head, sorrow settled across Lady Jin’s face.
“Blood cannot lie. You have Ryeon’s face exactly—her eyes, her features. Your mother was the finest beauty in all of Seongdo.”
So my beauty came from her. I’d inherited good genes, then.
“I didn’t even know you were alive. If I’d known you were so close, I would have looked after you long ago.”
Her voice trailed into regret as she began feeling over my body—checking for signs of poisoning, for injuries, for any mark of neglect.
“Your hands are so cracked. You shouldn’t be doing this kind of work. The household head must not be paying proper attention.”
She stroked the pale, callused backs of my hands with a look of distress. I stood there awkwardly, hearing words I didn’t understand.
The way her attitude had shifted the moment she learned I knew my mother—it was clear that in the Martial World, just as in the outside world, regional connections, blood relations, and academic ties all held sway.
Though for me, it was hardly a bad thing. Lady Jin oversaw all the serving maids. The more favorably she viewed me, the easier my life in the Dang Clan would become—that much was simple logic.
Mother, whoever you are, thank you.
I lowered my eyes and offered a silent prayer of gratitude.
“Are you eating well? Your face has grown thin.”
“Yes.”
“Is your sleeping place uncomfortable? No—let’s go to your quarters. I need to see them with my own eyes.”
After asking me questions for some time, Lady Jin finally had me lead the way—though I didn’t know the path.
I wandered twice before I finally found the room I shared with Song Ji.
“How could your bloodline be living in such a place as this?”
Lady Jin’s face fell into shock—or perhaps anger. At her fierce reaction, I felt a flush of embarrassment.
The room Song Ji and I shared was actually larger than the studio apartment I’d lived in before.
It was decent enough for two people, but it clearly fell short of Lady Jin’s expectations.
“Moving you at once would be difficult. Wait a little longer. I’ll have you transferred within ten days.”
She spoke with grim determination, then embraced me once before departing.
I watched her retreating figure and turned her meaningful words over in my mind.
Who was ‘Ryeon’? That she’d been the finest beauty in Seongdo, and that my mother might have been a woman of high station—these thoughts circled in my head.
The moment Lady Jin disappeared completely from view, Song Ji emerged from where she’d been hiding at a distance.
“Hey. What did you do to make Lady Jin come visit you?”
“I’m not sure.”
I answered dismissively. But knowing that Song Ji had stayed silent about the poison on the laundry—that rankled. I turned sharp.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“About the poison.”
“Poison? What are you talking about? The poison-soaked laundry? You said you were fine with it, didn’t you? You said poison had never affected you anyway.”
“I said that?”
Song Ji’s eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Yes. You told me yourself—ever since you were little, no poison had ever worked on you. That’s why you said the poison-soaked laundry was fine. I told you to report it to the lady if Sim Yang and those girls were harassing you, didn’t I? And now you come complaining to me? Are you blaming me now?”
She poured out her irritation and flicked my forehead with her finger. The impact stung.
Why does she keep hitting me? I made a face and looked up at Song Ji.
If Song Ji was telling the truth, then ‘So Hye’ had known she had poison immunity. She must have thought the poison on the laundry was something she could handle.
But what if it had been something extreme—like the Seven-Step Soul-Severing Poison that kills before a man can walk seven paces, or the Bone-Melting Poison that liquefies bone in moments? What then? Besides, if it were that potent, the fabric itself would have dissolved.
Most people with poison immunity still don’t like touching poison, but this So Hye—choosing to soil her hands with it rather than clash with others—she was no ordinary person.
Watching the play of emotions cross my face, Song Ji’s expression softened.
“So that’s why you went to Lady Jin? Good thinking. Those girls deserve to be taught a lesson. Let’s have dinner.”
Song Ji laughed brightly and folded her arms.
So she had no tolerance for poison since childhood—that was important information.
I touched the wooden box hidden in my clothes.
Still, I ought to carry the antidote pills just in case.
Hopefully I’d have no reason to use them.
* * *
After Lady Jin’s visit, no more poison-soaked laundry came my way. So the maids changed tactics for tormenting me.
“Starting today, you’ll clean the Training Ground. You’ve got spare time now that the laundry work is lighter, haven’t you?”
Their plan was to shove me into the Training Ground right after the disciples finished their practice.
I let out a contemptuous laugh and answered.
“No thanks. You do it.”
“What?”
Surprised that I’d refuse, the maids’ faces turned ugly. I met their glares without backing down.
So what. Why not. Go yourselves if you’re so upset.
If the Training Ground had been ordinary, I would have cleaned it meekly—just a few sweeps of the broom over the dust-covered Clear Stone and done.
But pushing me into a Training Ground where yellow and blue poison powder drifted through the air—that was asking me to die while cleaning. I had no intention of accepting such transparent cruelty without a fight.
“What? You’ve got nerve, do you? What makes you think you can—”
“That’s enough. I’ll explain.”
The moment a weasel-faced woman raised her voice, Sim Yang stepped in front of her.
Sim Yang was effectively the leader of this irritating group—and despite her refined features, she had a knack for getting under people’s skin.
Yet no one dared speak harshly to Sim Yang. Apparently, because her mother used the Dang surname through a distant branch line, she had to be treated with care, or so the story went.
I couldn’t understand why it mattered that her mother belonged to the Dang Clan when Sim Yang herself didn’t—but to those who worked for the Dang family, it was apparently a tremendous credential.
She soothed me the way one might calm a child.
“I understand you don’t want to clean the Training Ground. But you have better Poison Immunity than we do, don’t you? We can’t go in there—it’s too dangerous for us.”
Her tone was gentle, but the message was not: “We don’t want to touch poison and die, so you’re going in.” She had a gift for softening such words.
“I received the same training as Song Ji, didn’t I? What’s the difference? And if it’s dangerous, you shouldn’t be sending anyone in at all.”
We’d both drunk the same medicinal broth and rolled around on the ground afterward—I simply had no memory of it. But that’s how it was, regardless.
As I countered deliberately, Sim Yang’s face grew uncomfortable.
“Then there’s no help for it. Song Ji will have to go instead. Yes, her Poison Immunity is weaker than yours, but what can we do? If not you, then Song Ji is the only one who can.”
At that shameless remark, my irritation flared. The way she invoked Song Ji made it perfectly clear what method Sim Yang had been using to move me all along.
She’d been blackmailing me with Song Ji every time. Song Ji was the only person by my side in this world where I had no family, no friends.
I huffed indignantly and glared at Sim Yang.
“Where exactly is this Training Ground?”
Fine. I’d cave in this once. But next time, there would be nothing left for her to work with.
At my declaration of surrender, a smile bloomed across Sim Yang’s face. I wanted to kick that smug expression clean off.
* * *
Half an hour later, I held an Access Pass and a broom in my hands. I sighed heavily and looked toward the city gate that led into the Inner Fortress.
I was already wondering what poison awaited me today. Damn it. Send me home.
“Are you going in or not?”
After I’d been standing before the gate for a while, the Gate Keeper rebuked me with exasperation. Stop loitering in front of me; it’s annoying.
I had no choice but to show my Access Pass.
“Go on through.”
The Gate Keeper glanced at it perfunctorily and let me pass without comment. I wanted to ask where the Training Ground was, but he looked like he’d snap at me if I tried to speak again.
Reading his mood, I shifted the broom in my arms and passed through the gate.
The Inner Fortress was far larger than it had appeared from outside. Tall halls and pavilions lined the broad avenue, and there were several meticulously landscaped gardens scattered about.
According to Song Ji, the direct line of the family and those of high station lived in the Inner Fortress, while distant branches like myself did menial work in the Outer Fortress. So everyone living in the Inner Fortress was Dang Clan.
I’d heard of clan villages and family settlements before, but seeing one with my own eyes was a first. That such a vast estate existed solely for the Dang Clan was astounding.
The pavilions and halls—painted with refined elegance but without ostentation—made clear exactly what aesthetic the Dang Clan pursued.
After all, true beauty lies in appearing artless while being meticulously crafted. The Dang Clan embodied this perfectly. You could sense a subtle refinement in every roof tile and beam.
Standing there like a country bumpkin seeing the capital for the first time, mouth agape, I suddenly realized the problem.
How was I supposed to find the Training Ground in this place?
I should have asked the Gate Keeper, even if he’d cursed me for it.
Turning back in regret, I saw the Gate Keeper had already shrunk to a tiny speck in the distance. It was far too great a distance to walk back.
At this point, I wished someone would magically appear to show me the way to the Training Ground. Or better yet, the Training Ground itself would just appear.
With a sigh, I began searching for it, wandering aimlessly.
I must have walked for nearly thirty minutes.
After weaving through narrow and wide passages for some time, I arrived at a large pond.
Red plum blossoms bloomed at the water’s edge, surrounded by bare willow branches.
It was the first flower I’d seen in some time. The scent of plum blossoms cut through the cold air and tickled the tip of my nose. Entranced, I approached the pond.
Intoxicated by the rich fragrance, I reached my hand toward a plum branch when someone shouted.
“Who’s there!”
“Ah!”
I startled and stumbled backward, my feet slipping on gravel. My body, losing its balance, drew closer to the pond.
No, no. I’m falling. I’m falling!
There was no distance left to escape. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the cold water.
In that moment, someone wrapped their arms around my waist.
“So it’s you. Haven’t you learned the paths yet?”
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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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