Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 5

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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 5
There was a hint of laughter in the voice that tickled my ear.
As my feet touched the ground, I opened my eyes slowly. The person holding me was a familiar face.
“Young Master?”
Then a sharp rebuke rang out again.
“How disrespectful! Young Master? Who are you trying to demean?”
At the man’s thunderous roar, I shrank back. His voice was as loud as his broad frame would suggest.
“Enough, Geun-myeong. That will do.”
“But… yes, understood.”
The man, who had been about to say more, fell silent the moment the child frowned.
Seeing how those eyes alone could suppress an opponent, I began to wonder if our Young Master was someone far more important than I’d thought.
Surely only a household master’s son could bark orders at a grown man so freely.
…Was he really the Young Master of the Household?
I hastily retraced my steps, searching my memory for any mistakes I might have made with him.
A guilty conscience makes one anxious—I’d probably said something stupid without realizing it.
The Young Master, now releasing me, asked a question.
“And where did you lose your way this time?”
“I was sent to clean the Martial Arts Hall.”
“The Martial Arts Hall in the Inner Estate? You’ve certainly had your share of mistreatment. Come with me.”
The Young Master chuckled softly and began walking ahead. As Geun-myeong moved to follow, the child waved his hand.
“Geun-myeong, stay here.”
“Yes.”
At that, the man called Geun-myeong glared at me. His eyes carried a sharp warning to behave myself.
It’s not my fault—blame the Young Master.
When I didn’t move, hesitant under that stare, the Young Master urged me on.
“What are you doing? Come along.”
I felt the weight of that piercing gaze, but I pretended not to notice and began walking.
I don’t know anything. The Young Master called me, so I’m going.
* * *
The pond I’d wandered into was the garden behind a ten-bay Pavilion—and it turned out to be the Young Master’s Living Quarters.
“Servants are not permitted to enter these quarters freely. Mind yourself.”
True to his word, a Black Flag hung at the entrance of the Pavilion, marking it as off-limits. I nodded in acknowledgment.
Now I understood why Geun-myeong had shouted so fiercely. I’d done exactly what would make anyone think I was an intruder.
I’d almost gotten myself killed.
As I let out a breath of relief, I reassessed the child in my mind.
Instead of punishing a servant who’d wandered into his quarters uninvited, he’d even personally escorted me to the Martial Arts Hall. Our Young Master was quite gracious.
Just as my good opinion of him was rising, he spoke again.
“But tell me—did you truly not know the way, or were you merely pretending to be lost?”
“I beg your pardon?”
His mocking question made my brow furrow. Why would I possibly do such a thing?
I was about to protest, but his cold expression silenced me in an instant.
His eyes were eerily calm and fixed on me, piercing as if trying to see straight through to my soul.
Under that glacial gaze, my legs went weak—I felt like prey before a predator. My entire body trembled so violently that I doubted I’d be colder even if I’d been dropped into Antarctica and forced to shake hands with a penguin.
It wasn’t an exaggeration—I genuinely struggled to breathe. An invisible, crushing force bore down upon me.
Was this the Killing Intent that martial artists emanated? My instincts screamed at me to run.
“Utterly inscrutable. You seem like an ordinary servant at first glance.”
His head tilted slightly as he reached out and lifted my chin with his hand. Even held lightly, my jaw ached from his grip.
“But then you seem like a suspicious spy.”
I’m just an ordinary servant!
He turned my face this way and that, and his touch was rough. What mistake had I made? I couldn’t fathom why he’d suddenly become hostile.
The distress brought tears streaming down my face.
“Oh.”
Seeing the tears, a flicker of confusion crossed his face. I felt the strength drain from his grip on my jaw.
But my body had no strength left in it. The moment his hand withdrew, I collapsed to the ground.
The oppressive force that had crushed me vanished, yet the terror it had wrought remained vivid and real. Tears and mucus streamed down my face, and I tasted salt on my tongue.
Only now did it truly sink in—I had fallen into the Martial Arts World. This was a place where even someone I thought I knew could suddenly try to kill me.
As I trembled and wiped my face, an awkward murmur reached my ears.
“I hadn’t meant to make you cry.”
When I lifted my tear-stained face, I saw him standing there, awkwardly touching the back of his neck.
“Tch. You even look sad when you cry—it reminds me of Hwa-yeon. It’s distracting. Can you stand?”
Is that what you call an explanation? This is all because of you.
I sniffled, tears spilling out despite my efforts to hold them back.
“Hic, hic…….”
“Oh dear.”
The wretched Young Master let out a long sigh. When I pressed my lips shut, afraid of offending his mood, he shook his head.
“Just cry. Holding it in will only make you sick.”
Give sickness and then medicine?
Watching me hiccup, the Young Master bent down with an awkward expression.
A fleeting sadness crossed his dark eyes—but it wasn’t directed at me. He was looking at me while thinking of someone else.
With a bitter smile, he slowly hoisted me up, slinging me across his shoulder like a sack of grain.
When I squirmed, terrified of tumbling to the ground from such a precarious angle, he patted my back reassuringly.
“Hold still. I’ll carry you to the Martial Arts Hall.”
You’re carrying me like luggage?
The absurdity dried my tears in an instant. Still, I didn’t dare complain. I gripped the hem of the Young Master’s long robe tightly so I wouldn’t fall.
For someone who claims he can’t walk, he’s bothering to carry me himself—he’s not entirely a bad person. Yet I couldn’t fathom what bothered me about him.
As I dangled there like a scarecrow, I felt a sudden emptiness.
“……Young Master.”
“That’s enough. Don’t say anything.”
“But—sniff. No, I mean. I left the broom behind.”
“…….”
The Young Master stopped and turned to look back. Far behind us, the broom lay overturned on the ground. He let out a hollow laugh.
* * *
“Eat this.”
“Yes.”
“And this too.”
I nodded and took the rice cake he offered, putting it in my mouth. As I chewed hesitantly, the Young Master produced another one.
Though my stomach was full, I couldn’t refuse. He was clearly giving me these treats as an apology.
……How much longer does he plan to feed me?
I swallowed the question that had risen to my throat and watched him rummage busily through his sleeves.
The Young Master’s sleeves seemed endless, like a magician’s hat—objects kept emerging from them. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a dove.
Perhaps the calling of a Dang Clan member is to be a magician.
How does he carry all this? Is there actually a bottomless pocket hidden inside his sleeves?
When I looked up in wonder, I noticed suspicious-colored powder floating through the air.
I wondered if it might be poison powder, but I didn’t ask. Confirming it would only trouble my mind.
That’s right—we were waiting near the Martial Arts Hall for the training to end.
Beyond the wall, I could hear the clash of blades and shouts.
“I won’t let this slide!”
“Third Young Master. You’ve been saying that for days now. You need to dodge faster.”
“Bu Dae-ju, you bastard……!”
The sound of gnashing teeth was loud. At the savage cry, I glanced toward the wall, and the Young Master shrugged.
“We’ll need to wait another half hour or so.”
The Third Young Master is carrying on like a rhinoceros over there. This will take longer, I suspect.
I swallowed the snack I’d been chewing, smacking my lips.
I’d never known it before, but apparently the Martial Arts Hall could only be cleaned after everyone finished their training. The reason was that a martial artist’s practice couldn’t be shown to outsiders.
So to clean, I had to wait until all the Dang Clan members finished their daily training. If I was lucky, I could clean while the sun was still up, but if I was unlucky, I’d wait endlessly and end up cleaning in the middle of the night.
If that’s how it works, shouldn’t the people who use the Martial Arts Hall clean it themselves, you Dang Clan fools? Do it yourselves.
It was absurd, but there was nothing to be done. I was merely a servant—I had to wait quietly.
Then something flew rapidly toward me. Without time to think, my body moved on pure reflex.
“Ho. Your reflexes are quite sharp.”
The Young Master, sounding impressed, straightened his posture and looked at me. I followed his gaze.
A Flying Blade I’d never seen before was in my hand.
Wait. What is this?
The moment I became aware of the Flying Blade, a sharp, stinging pain shot through my palm. The skin, scraped raw from catching it, was beading with blood.
My eyes widened involuntarily. Did a Flying Blade just come flying toward my face from the Martial Arts Hall?
I almost died just now, didn’t I?
I yelped and hurled the Flying Blade away, and the Young Master giggled.
“You caught it fine, but now you’re whining.”
Yet I couldn’t bring myself to laugh with him.
What had just happened was essentially a reminder that if I were unlucky, a thrown projectile could come flying at me while I walked and kill me instantly.
Is this really acceptable working conditions? Shouldn’t there be hazard pay on top of my wages?
I stood gaping at the absurdity of it all when the Young Master tapped me lightly on the shoulder.
“A wound like that won’t kill you. Come now. Let me see your hand.”
I hesitated before extending my palm, and he pushed up my sleeve and pressed his fingers against my wrist.
When he applied gentle pressure with his index and middle finger on my wrist, a strange energy burrowed into my body.
It felt like dipping my fingertips into warm water, yet also as though something viscous and yielding enveloped my hand.
The energy flowing through my fingertips traveled along my meridians and spread throughout my entire frame in an instant.
The sensation of something probing every corner of my body made me gag. Unable to bear it, I clamped my mouth shut, and he patted my back reassuringly.
“You’re quite sensitive to Qi. Your Inner Energy will develop quickly enough.”
There was something almost pleased in his voice. As he slowly withdrew the energy, the Young Master spoke again.
“Tell me—would you like to learn Martial Arts from me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
……I was certain I’d just heard something strange.

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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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