Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 48

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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 48
The Cheoribang was sealed tight as a vault.
Four guard warriors patrolled in rotation, and no one could enter without signing their name and purpose in the ledger by the gate.
Even direct lineage members of the Dang Family were not exempt. Dang Ju-hee took the ledger from the guard and wrote her purpose in quick, efficient strokes.
—Dang Ju-hee, coming to see Cho-hee.
Then she handed me the brush.
“Your turn. Write something.”
“What should I write?”
“Whatever you like.”
“Does Deok-ju have to write too?”
“Tell her to wait outside. If she comes in with us and something goes missing, it’ll be a headache.”
“Did you hear that, Deok-ju? This might take a while. Would you rather wait in the Byeoldang?”
“Yes, miss.”
Deok-ju bowed without protest and stepped back.
Seeing that straightlaced Deok-ju hadn’t insisted on following made it clear that the Cheoribang was restricted to authorized personnel only.
As I hesitated over what to write, I picked up the brush and inscribed my name beneath Dang Ju-hee’s.
—Dang So-hye, following Dang Ju-hee.
The guard managing the ledger pressed his lips together firmly, struggling to suppress a smile.
Was that wrong?
Curious how others had filled it in, I tilted the ledger to see the neat characters written above.
—Dang Hwa-yeop, whetstone for sharpening butterfly blades and eight kunwu iron ingots for removal.
Ah. So that’s how it’s done. No wonder he wanted to laugh.
Handing the ledger back with an air of indifference, I received a nod from the guard, who then opened the door.
“Security here is incredibly strict.”
“Metallurgy is the lifeblood of the Dang Family. We have to prevent leaks.”
Dang Ju-hee answered as though it were obvious, pointing to the walls around us.
“Those are all mechanism traps, so don’t even think about climbing over. We’ve coated them with the Eight Great Extreme Poisons—get hit by one and you’re dead. Think you’ll be okay?”
So they wouldn’t spare intruders. It seemed every organization was paranoid about technique leaks.
The moment we stepped into the Cheoribang, a wave of heat struck us—nothing like the outside air. It was like standing before a lava flow.
“It’s always summer in here.”
Dang Ju-hee muttered a complaint and strode deeper inside. I followed close behind.
The scrape of metal dragging across stone, the roar of bellows, the hiss of hot steel plunged into water—all of it layered together into a deafening symphony.
Clang! Clang!
After following the bright rhythm of the hammer for a long stretch, I spotted Dang Cho-hee—beads of sweat rolling down her face as she struck a heated ingot.
“Cho-hee. Your sister’s here.”
Even at Dang Ju-hee’s call, Dang Cho-hee didn’t pause in her hammering.
Dang Ju-hee, as if she’d expected nothing less, settled herself on a rolling crate nearby. Crossing her legs, she gestured to me with a wave.
“Come sit over here. It’ll take a while.”
“How long exactly?”
“About two shi chen, I’d say.”
Four hours in this furnace? Maybe I could just slip out and tend to my own business.
But the grumbling was short-lived. I found myself captivated by the sight before me.
Each time Dang Cho-hee brought the hammer down, the iron on the anvil erupted in pale gold sparks.
When those starlike flames faded, the shape of the metal had transformed.
Sometimes the blows fell hard, sometimes soft.
The skill with which she shaped the heated metal, adjusting each stroke with perfect timing, was clearly no amateur’s work.
Noticing I couldn’t tear my eyes from the anvil, Dang Ju-hee smiled knowingly.
“Impressive, isn’t she?”
“Pardon?”
“Cho-hee’s skill.”
“It’s extraordinary.”
That their father dismissed such talent as mere smithing hobby work—I began to think his eyes were genuinely lodged somewhere below his backside.
“She’s only been holding a hammer for less than half a year. Said she’d rather forge steel than play the dutiful housewife, so she bolted to the Cheoribang. Turned out to have a knack for it.”
“Less than six months? Isn’t that genius?”
“Did you hear that, Cho-hee? Apparently you’re a genius.”
Dang Ju-hee laughed brightly, and Dang Cho-hee’s face flushed red with irritation.
“Don’t talk nonsense. Why are you even here?”
“To have tea together—you, me, and the youngest.”
“I don’t want to.”
“We waited for you for a whole shi chen, you know.”
“You’re the one who kept me waiting.”
Dang Ju-hee refused to be cowed by the sharp rebuke. She grinned confidently and drew something from her sleeve.
“What’s that?”
“…Where did you get it?”
“Share tea with me and I’ll tell you.”
“I asked you. Where did you get the Kunwu Iron?”
Dang Cho-hee set down her hammer with a sharp clang and fixed Dang Ju-hee with a glare. At the intensity in her eyes, Dang Ju-hee merely shrugged.
“Uncle asked me to help him find some for making a Claw Knife.”
“The Baek Pung Trading Company is impressive indeed. Even the elders at Cheoribang said they hadn’t seen Kunwu Iron in ages.”
“They have it but pretend they don’t. Uncle and Father were having some kind of standoff over it.”
Dang Ju-hee tossed the iron chunk carelessly. Dang Cho-hee caught it with ease, her brow furrowing.
“Father wouldn’t pay?”
“A commission dispute, probably. It’s been going on for days now anyway. Shall we have tea?”
“Fine.”
Dang Cho-hee nodded and turned her gaze to me, scrutinizing me from head to toe before giving a small gesture with her chin.
“Hand.”
“Pardon?”
“Open your hand.”
Dang Ju-hee let out an amused snort, as if watching something entertaining.
“Mm. Cho-hee, are you giving So-hye a present? Our Cho-hee has grown up?”
“Be quiet.”
As I hesitantly extended my hand, Dang Cho-hee pressed something into my palm.
It was a thin piece of metal shaped like a butterfly.
“What is this?”
“A Butterfly Blade.”
“Did you make it?”
“Yes.”
Then she stared at me. It was the look of someone wanting something.
“It’s beautiful.”
“…….”
Perhaps she’d wanted praise. I hastily scrambled for words.
“I’ve never seen anything like it before. Haha, what’s it used for?”
“Throw it.”
“Throw it?”
“It’s a throwing weapon, so you throw it.”
Dang Cho-hee picked up the Butterfly Blade again.
She fitted it between her index and middle fingers, spun it deftly, then extended her arm in a graceful arc like a dancer.
The Butterfly Blade flew as light as a butterfly and lodged itself in the edge of a wooden box. The box shattered at the impact.
“Wow.”
A gasp escaped unbidden as splinters scattered through the air. Smithwork must have made her extraordinarily strong.
“If someone ever tries to poison you, don’t be stupid enough to swallow it—plant this Butterfly Blade in their face instead.”
In other words, in your brother’s face.
Dang Cho-hee spoke this grim instruction matter-of-factly, then retrieved the Butterfly Blade and placed it back in my hand.
I’d thought she paid me no attention, but she’d been worried about the poison I’d consumed.
“You were concerned about me? Thank you, sister.”
As I beamed and met her eyes, Dang Cho-hee’s brow creased and she turned her head sharply away. The back of her neck flushed crimson.
So it wasn’t coldness—she was just easily embarrassed. Now I understood better how to treat her.
“Sister, I’ve never handled a Butterfly Blade before. Would you teach me how to throw it?”
“……Fine then.”
Dang Cho-hee’s answer came awkwardly.
I smiled to myself as I tucked the unfamiliar throwing weapon into my dress.
* * *
Dang Ju-hee’s chatter began with a question about how Suzhou Silk differed from Shu Brocade made in Sichuan, then spiraled through the volume and price of silks imported by the Baek Pung Trading Company, and finally ended in boasting about making summer clothes from Suzhou Silk.
……What did any of this matter about silk?
I’d known she talked a lot, but not to this degree—my head was swimming.
Dang Cho-hee, too, was poking at her pastries with a look of disgust on her face. She looked ready to bolt at any moment.
So that’s why she didn’t want to have tea.
“And So-hye needs summer clothes too, doesn’t she? She doesn’t have a nursemaid—who’s going to look after her? Will Jin Lady do it? Did the seamstress take her measurements?”
“Haha, I think the clothes you gave me are enough.”
“Those are winter clothes. You said yourself you’re already hot now. Come summer, you’ll be miserable. Shall I have the seamstress come? Yes, that’s better. She can take your measurements and we’ll go buy silk. I’ll pick colors that look perfect on you.”
“That’s enough. Let her do as she sees fit.”
“You too, Cho-hee—come with us. We’ll have new clothes made for you. What kind of state are you in? So-so, fetch a seamstress. Let the Trading Company know we’re coming to look at silks.”
“Yes, Miss.”
At Dang Ju-hee’s command, the maidservant attending to the tea hurried away from her seat. Dang Cho-hee pulled a face and frowned.
“I’m not going. I want to go to the Cheoribang.”
“Cho-hee. You have to think of the family’s reputation. We’re as good as the Dang Family’s storefront. If we look shabby, people will think the Dang Family is struggling. Don’t you agree, So-hye?”
“Yes? Ah…. I suppose that could be true.”
It was an unexpectedly sensible thing to say.
Come to think of it, I’d made the same judgment when I saw how Namgoong Hui dressed—the Namgoong household must be enormously wealthy.
Now that I think about it, there’s something to be said for taking enough care not to bring shame on the family name.
But what does it matter for me? I’m an illegitimate child. People will assume I’m treated poorly anyway.
Dang Cho-hee seemed to share something of the same thought, scratching absently at her ear.
“There’s an idiot pouring money into the courtesan houses every single day—nobody’s going to jump to conclusions about anything.”
A laugh burst out of me.
Laughter bubbled up suddenly.
Dang Young-ho was a fool, and Dang Hwa-yeop was an even bigger one.
The way these two spoke to each other—they weren’t born of the same womb, but they’d certainly grown up together as sisters. They had good rapport.
When I laughed, Dang Ju-hee poked me in the cheek.
“Oh, So-hye’s laughing.”
“I’d laugh more if you’d stop pestering me, Sister.”
“When have I ever pestered you? I only want to play with you.”
Dang Cho-hee cut her off sharply, as if calling out nonsense.
“You just want to play, that’s all.”
“That’s not true. So-hye also—”
Dang Ju-hee, who had been giggling, wiped away her smile and fixed her gaze on empty air.
“What is it? Why did you come?”
“Father is asking for you.”
Startled by the deep voice, I turned around—and found an unfamiliar man standing there.
“Father? What for?”
“How should I know? He called for you, so I came to tell you. Perhaps he’s decided on a wedding date.”
The man replied with indifference, running a hand back through his hair. Dang Ju-hee bared her teeth in a mockery of a smile.
“How thoughtful of you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The man accepted her jab with the ease of long practice, and his gaze drifted toward me. He tilted his head, lips parting.
“But… I don’t recall seeing this face before.”
The man, narrowing his eyes as he looked me over, raised one corner of his mouth in evident displeasure.
“A fair-featured face—now I remember. Everyone’s so leisurely these days? Finding time to associate with an illegitimate child.”
“Your manners are something else. I suggest you work on that.”
Dang Ju-hee spoke as though unimpressed. Dang Cho-hee’s brow furrowed as well.
There was no need to ask who this man was—someone who opened with talk of illegitimacy on first meeting.
The unusually refined green robe. A face that was a carbon copy of Dang Young-ho. Of Direct Lineage to the Dang Family, and comfortable enough to disparage me as an illegitimate child without hesitation.
It had to be my last uncle, Dang Hwa-yeop, whom I had yet to see.

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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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