Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 68

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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 68
“Your eyes… Brother?”
The words caught in my throat. I pressed my lips together and swallowed the sound that threatened to escape.
“So it has come to pass. The end draws near.”
Dang Un spoke with such gentleness that his composure seemed almost unsettling for someone announcing his own blindness.
I had no idea what to say.
Offering comfort to someone so resigned felt wrong, yet sitting there pretending indifference—as a mere outsider—felt equally strange.
Seeing my distress, Dang Un smiled.
“Since I cannot visit the Jang Seo Gak, would you come read to me now and then?”
“Of course. Yes. Brother. Just call whenever you wish.”
“Such a good heart. Shall I brew us some tea?”
“Please, let me. You should rest.”
“No. If I abandon these hands entirely now, I’ll never manage a cup alone again. I must practice.”
With that, Dang Un folded his umbrella.
His narrow shoulders, now visible even beneath the Pifung Robe, seemed to have grown somehow smaller.
His movements toward the hall were tentative, like an elderly man without a walking stick.
I matched his pace, walking beside him.
“I hear our Sohye is to be betrothed.”
“You’ve heard of it already? Yes, I believe so.”
“You speak of it as though it concerns someone else. That won’t do. Meeting the man you’ll spend your life with is no small matter.”
Dang Un chuckled softly, and I laughed in embarrassment before answering.
“It doesn’t feel quite real yet.”
“Ju Hee and Cho Hee were the same at their coming of age ceremonies. Of course, since both only underwent betrothal and never married, it will be some time before Sohye’s turn comes. You’re right not to feel it yet.”
Dang Un, agreeing, fumbled for the sliding door and opened it. He seemed to have misjudged my position, gazing into empty air as he spoke.
“When the groom arrives, you’ll show him to me, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
I answered quickly and linked my arm through his, guiding him toward the reception room.
I barely remember drinking the tea Dang Un poured.
I kept my eyes averted—from his trembling, bloodless hands, from the endless stream of hot water, from the death creeping ever closer to him.
What thoughts must occupy his heart as he faces the winter of life?
This winter felt as though it would stretch on forever.
* * *
Gu Gyeong Cheon arrived at the Dang Clan Estate five days later.
He came bearing gifts that filled two entire carriages, or so I was told.
From the whispers about their considerable value, I suspected he meant to demonstrate the Yuju Trading Company’s wealth on this very occasion.
I paced the reception room of the Guest Pavilion, waiting for his arrival.
The Red Palace Dress that Song Ji had insisted I wear to maintain Seizing Initiative felt terribly uncomfortable, and my chin tilted up almost of its own accord.
How on earth will I ever master the ways of an inner chamber? Impossible.
I was muttering complaints and brushing at my sleeves when I heard footsteps approaching. I quickly straightened my posture.
I opened my eyes wide and turned to see a man entering with measured, careful steps.
“I am honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Dang. I am the third son of the Yuju Trading Company, Gu Gyeong Cheon.”
“It’s a pleasure, Young Master Gu.”
I nodded lightly and met his eyes.
He seemed slightly nervous and avoided my gaze, then smiled awkwardly and watched for my reaction, as though waiting to be invited to sit.
“Please, be seated.”
“Thank you.”
I gestured, and then took my own seat across from him.
In person, he was an utterly unremarkable man. The sort who would blend seamlessly into any gathering, leaving no impression whatsoever.
His face was slightly less refined than the portrait someone had carefully painted for him, though not so much that it went unrecognized. Still, the difference was noticeable.
As I sat there blankly, Song Ji’s lips twitched.
‘Miss. The initiative. Seize the initiative!’
As if it would matter. He’s still intimidated anyway.
I swallowed my sigh and, playing the imperious lady, stretched my neck deliberately.
“Song Ji. Bring tea.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Once Song Ji had left to prepare the tea, Gu Gyeong Cheon began speaking as though he’d been holding it back all along.
“You are as beautiful as the rumors claim.”
“My, have you heard rumors about me?”
“There is no one in Sichuan who hasn’t heard of you. After all, you are called Sichuan’s First Beauty.”
Me?
How could I not have heard such rumors? Look at you—merchant’s son, is it? Your mouth runs quick.
As I let out a dismissive snort at his excessive flattery, Gu Gyeong Cheon gave a small laugh.
“I’m no ambitious man of great appetites. I’m just a simple fellow, content to live each day without trouble. If we were to become betrothed, I assure you I would cause you no inconvenience.”
“Mm. Yes.”
“And naturally, there would be no interference from the family. My presence won’t hinder your cultivation in the slightest. Furthermore—”
Gu Gyeong Cheon droned on endlessly about how harmless he was, how he could live like a mouse in the Dang Clan Estate.
I drained my tea with a bored expression.
I couldn’t tell if he was dying inside or deliberately making himself small so as not to offend.
Honestly, it all felt like someone else’s problem. I couldn’t quite grasp that I was actually going to marry this man.
“It’s been a pleasure talking with you, Gu. We’ll meet again.”
I cut short the tedious conversation and rose from my seat.
I knew it was impolite to send away a prospective match after barely an hour.
But I had no desire to sit much longer with a man who clung to me like some merchant pleading for a client’s favor.
Gu Gyeong Cheon’s eyes widened in apparent surprise, though his smile never wavered.
“I do hope that next time we might share a meal together, Young Lady Dang.”
“Of course. Then I’ll take my leave.”
Right. No thanks. I think I’d be sick if I ate with you.
As I stepped out of the Guest Pavilion with a weary face, Deok Ju followed and asked quietly.
“Young mistress. What did you think?”
“Not much.”
If all the prospects Father had lined up were like him, the future looked grim enough to make my vision darken.
At least I held the advantage here; if I’d been in the other position, I’d have shuddered at the prospect.
Seeing my expression darken, Deok Ju offered comfort.
“I hear there are many more candidates. Do meet a few more. Surely there’s at least one man who might suit you.”
Compared to our first meeting, when Deok Ju had done nothing but repeat herself, this was remarkable progress. I clapped my hands in admiration.
“Goodness, our Deok Ju’s gotten quite good at this. Just the other day I was fretting over how to hold a conversation with someone so wooden.”
“Oh, Young mistress.”
“Deok Ju, carry me. These clothes are so uncomfortable.”
As I draped myself over Deok Ju’s shoulder and whined, she calmly hoisted me onto her back.
“Would you like to change out of them first, Young mistress?”
“Mm. Let’s go to Cheoso… no, wait. Let’s see Grandfather first. I think he’s dying to know how it went.”
“Understood.”
Deok Ju turned her steps toward Dang Jung’s quarters.
Then I noticed a pale wisps of smoke rising from a distant corner. I furrowed my brow.
“Is that Grandfather’s pavilion?”
“It appears so.”
Is he brewing poison? What on earth is he boiling?
I leaped down from Deok Ju’s back and opened the pavilion door.
Dang Jung was making something in the Back Garden.
A massive cauldron bubbled with a peculiar-smelling broth, and small clay jars were lined up all around it.
I wrinkled my nose as I approached Dang Jung.
“Grandfather, what are you doing?”
“Brewing wine.”
“So it’s not poison?”
“Wine, I said.”
The smell though—it seemed like poison.
I shrugged and peered into the cauldron. The thick, sticky substance looked like glutinous rice.
“Would you like my help? Do I need to stir this?”
As I scratched my cheek and asked, Dang Jung frowned and waved his hand.
“Stay put. This is wine for you—I won’t have you toiling over it.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m brewing Nü Er Hong.”
Dang Jung gazed at me with a warm smile.
“I saw such wine when I went to Hangzhou. In that place, when a daughter is born, they seal Imperial Wine to be opened when she’s wed. It’s too late for that, I know, but if I brew it now, we can open it on a good day down the road.”
“Oh…”
“Should you ever gain a courtesy name, I might unseal it then? Though you’ve got ten years before your Jianghu Journey truly begins.”
“Grandfather.”
I stood transfixed, gazing at Dang Jung. I couldn’t fathom the depth of affection he was showing.
He was brewing wine for me.
For me…
I bit at my lip and wrapped my arms tightly around Dang Jung.
“Child. You’ll get the lees on your clothes. You’ve put on such a fine dress—you must take better care of it.”
Dang Jung raised his arm in mild rebuke, but I refused to let him go. Instead, I buried my face in his chest and acted shamelessly spoiled.
When I said a decade was far away, what I truly meant was that I intended to stay in his arms for at least ten years more, carefree and content.
“Such childishness. It exhausts an old man. Wonui.”
His grumbling voice was tinged with laughter. It seemed he didn’t dislike my shameless affection.
“I mixed it according to what I’d learned, but I’m not certain how the taste will turn out. I’ve made Clear Spirit before, but this is my first time with Imperial Wine. It ought to have flavor, though.”
Dang Jung muttered like he was speaking to himself, his worried face hovering over the jar. It seemed he didn’t brew spirits very often.
After sealing the jar carefully, Dang Jung wiped his hands on a damp cloth. Then he called for Dang Geun Myeong.
“Geun Myeong. Put it away.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dang Geun Myeong appeared from somewhere with a spade and began digging a hole. It seemed he meant to bury the freshly made jar of spirits.
Watching his silent, steady work, I saw the image of a subordinate who simply obeyed orders without question. Perhaps it was just my imagination. Still, I sent him silent words of encouragement.
Hang in there, sir.
Dang Jung, having handed off the cleanup to Dang Geun Myeong, stepped inside the building. I followed close at his heels.
“What was that Gu Gyeong Cheon fellow like?”
“Not much to my liking.”
“His face is pale and clean enough, like a washed cabbage stem. So it was his character that disappointed you, then.”
A washed cabbage stem? Was that a compliment?
I tried to picture Gu Gyeong Cheon and a washed cabbage stem side by side, but I found no resemblance whatsoever.
Seeing my blank expression, Dang Jung let out a soft laugh.
“The world isn’t made of only one man, child. Why be so disappointed? Let’s meet others. You’ve never tasted spirits before, have you?”
“Well, no.”
Not here, anyway.
Dang Jung gave a small nod, as if he’d expected as much.
“Sit down. One ought to learn to drink from an adult.”
“All right then.”
He seated me at the table and began pulling out spirit bottles one after another from various places.
My excitement at finally getting to taste spirits lasted only a moment before a bead of cold sweat ran down my back as bottle after bottle—no two alike—piled up across the table.
……Grandfather. This is far too much.

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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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