Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 9

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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 9
Needless to say, I didn’t catch a single fish by sunset.
Success would have been absurd. Catching fish with Copper Coins? It was as ridiculous as putting an elephant in a refrigerator.
I stared at the Pond with hollow eyes, its surface flushed crimson in the dying light. Along the edge of the reddened water, Copper Coins bobbed and drifted toward me.
The heap of wet Copper Coins gleamed in a way that felt oddly familiar—like the kind of thing you see at tourist spots.
……I’ve become a wishing well that grants desires.
I crouched by the Pond and peered into the water.
Do I have to fish those out too?
While I sat there deliberating, tapping the Pond with my index finger, Dangjung called me.
“The sun’s gone. Come inside now.”
“Yes.”
So I didn’t have to, after all.
Grateful for the reprieve, I bolted toward the Pavilion. Dangjung, who had been leaning against a pillar, asked me a question.
“What did you think? How was it?”
“It was difficult.”
“Difficult how?”
“Well……when the wind blows, the trajectory shifts. And the projectiles slow down once they enter the water. I struggled to control my force so it wouldn’t dissipate before striking the fish.”
“That’s far better than those blockheads.”
Dangjung smiled with satisfaction at my answer.
“The Dark Projectile Technique isn’t simply about hurling poison-smeared projectiles mindlessly. Our ultimate aim is to master control over countless variables.”
He raised one arm high, and the loose sleeve fell away, rippling in the direction of the wind.
“Look. The direction and strength of the wind change daily. The weight of the air does too. On humid days, the air grows heavy and projectiles sink lower than usual; on dry days, they rise lighter than normal.”
Dangjung gauged the wind’s direction with an open palm, then flicked a Copper Coin with a snap. It shot like an arrow and lodged itself in a rock by the Pond’s edge with a sharp crack.
“You must learn to perceive all these shifts and adjust your force and speed accordingly. That is the Realm we pursue. The Dark Projectile Technique is a beautiful and delicate martial art.”
Pride threaded through Dangjung’s measured explanation.
“Beautiful indeed. Not like those brutish swordsmen and their crude displays of strength.”
He seemed to recall someone in particular and ground his teeth. He must have suffered plenty at Geomsu’s hands in his younger days.
He quickly smoothed away the expression and reached over to ruffle my hair.
“You’ll understand this joy soon enough, Sohye. Come, let’s eat.”
“Yes.”
I answered demurely and followed Dangjung into the Pavilion.
Dinner proved challenging in its own way. Beyond the anxiety of dining together, my arms trembled so badly I could barely grip chopsticks.
My arms no longer felt like my own. Every muscle in my body seemed wrung out, robbed of strength.
Watching me struggle with the chopsticks, Dangjung placed side dishes onto my plate himself.
“You’ve grown lean—no wonder you can’t manage. We need to put some meat back on those bones.”
A moment ago you said I had plenty of strength. Sir. Have you considered whose fault it is that I’ve ended up like this?
But Dangjung, oblivious to my inner turmoil, clicked his tongue and kept moving, his hands never still. Thick chunks of meat landed endlessly on my plate.
Yet my eating pace slowed by degrees. I choked down what he gave me, and soon my stomach felt bloated. The moment I emptied my plate, he asked,
“Still hungry? Shall I bring more?”
He looked ready to produce another helping, so I hurriedly stopped him.
“Sir, I cannot eat another bite. I’m quite full.”
“Already? Have just one more piece.”
“If I eat more, I’ll get sick.”
When I shook my head, Dangjung set down his chopsticks reluctantly. In that gesture, his age suddenly felt real to me.
He was no different from our elders at home, always trying to get their grandchildren to eat one more thing when they visit the countryside.
I quickly cleared the dinner table before Dangjung could insist on feeding me anything else.
“Sir, I should be going now.”
“Yes, go. Take this with you.”
As I prepared to leave, Dangjung handed me a bundle wrapped in green cloth.
“Brush and Ink, and the Thousand Character Classic. Memorize it.”
“……How much of it?”
“As much as you can. Copy each character ten times and bring it back.”
Sir, it’s eight at night. And you know I don’t understand these characters.
Even under my woeful gaze, Dangjung merely shrugged and would not budge. It was a silent demand that I simply do my best.
I heaved a sigh.
* * *
Cleaning, throwing Copper Coins, memorizing the Thousand Character Classic.
Cleaning, throwing Copper Coins, memorizing the Thousand Character Classic.
A squirrel-wheel existence unfolded, day after day.
As I grew visibly thinner with each passing day since meeting Dangjung, Songji’s worry deepened alongside my decline.
“Hey. Are you all right?”
“I’m dying…….”
I stumbled through the doorway and collapsed onto the floor, whereupon Songji began shaking me awake.
“Get on the bed to sleep. I haven’t cleaned there.”
“Can’t I just sleep here?”
I really felt like I was dying.
Songji let out a stifled laugh at my dramatics.
“If you want to scrub the floor clean with your own body, be my guest. Tomorrow you rest. I’ll go do the cleaning in your place.”
Ah, softhearted Songji. How can you speak such words even knowing Dangjung’s fearsome reputation? You’re an angel.
“No, ma’am. The Master asked me to come.”
“How did you even catch the Master’s eye? You’re going to drive me mad. Truly.”
Songji expressed her frustration by slapping my back hard. I wondered the same thing myself — how had I caught Dangjung’s attention?
In novels, martial artists only grew healthier with more training, yet here I was, feeling like my flesh was gradually disappearing and only bone remained.
What good was the food looking better if my own complexion kept fading?
Perhaps it’s because I don’t have a Dantian yet. Maybe things will improve once I learn the Internal Energy Cultivation Method.
Groaning and grumbling, I slowly dragged myself upright. My stomach was chilled from the Ondol Floor. I should sleep on the bed.
Then someone called out to me.
“Sohye. Are you awake?”
It was an unfamiliar man’s voice.
I turned my head in surprise, and a long shadow appeared across the Paper Door.
Who could it be? The only men I knew in this place were Dangjung and Duot, who ran errands for him. Oh, and there was Chonggwan too.
The way he called my name so warmly suggested he and Sohye had known each other before, but I hesitated to answer without more information.
What kind of relationship could it be that he’d come looking for her at her Quarters like some lovestruck ex at two in the morning?
When I didn’t reply, he called out to me again.
“Sohye. If you’re awake, would you come out for a moment?”
“Yes! Sohye’s coming! Hey, looks like the young master is here. Go on, hurry out.”
Songji answered in my place and shoved me forward. From her manner, it seemed this visitor didn’t come often.
If he’s a young master, is he the Dang Clan heir?
I opened the Paper Door while trying to guess the man’s identity.
Cool air swept in, carrying with it a subtle, elegant scent of orchid.
Rubbing my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I made out a man holding a Lantern on the Wooden Platform below.
“I apologize for waking you from your sleep.”
The one who apologized with such a gentle face was an exceptionally beautiful young man.
He looked to be in his mid-twenties. Unlike the dusky-complexioned people of the Dang Clan from head to toe, his hair caught the moonlight with a brownish hue.
If not for the Green Robe, I might never have believed he belonged to the Dang Clan at all.
Was he an outsider? I stared at the man blankly.
“Oh. Yes.”
“Why do you look so unfamiliar? Is it because I’ve been away so long?”
This is our first meeting. I swallowed the words that had risen to my throat and gulped instead.
His measured voice suited his gentle appearance perfectly.
“Young master, what business brings you all the way here…….”
My words trailed off, and the man’s face fell as if deeply wounded.
“Young master? I’m hurt. I told you not to call me that. Call me Dangun, as you used to. Please.”
“But…….”
“Call me brother.”
The man shook his head, his expression turning stern.
For him to insist that a mere servant call him brother — they must have been quite close. What in the world was their relationship?
“…Yes. Dangun.”
When I awkwardly changed how I addressed him, the man broke into a radiant smile.
“There. Now you sound like the Sohye I know.”
Over his smiling face, Dangjung’s smile seemed to overlay itself.
Blood tells, it seemed — there was something subtly similar in how they smiled.
Of course, I meant that as a compliment about their looks.
So his name was Dangun. That made sense if the casual form was Dangun. It might be a pet name.
Dangun bent his body to meet my eyes and asked,
“Nothing troublesome happened while I was away? I worried that my Martial World Journey would take this long.”
“No, sir.”
“You seem to have grown taller. Are you in any pain?”
“No, sir.”
I repeated the same answer like a parrot. Since I didn’t know who Dangun was, I had nothing else to say.
Dangun didn’t lose his smile at my listless response. He widened his pale eyes and thrust something toward me.
“I bought this for you, Sohye.”
It was a hairpin adorned with delicate peach blossom ornaments.
The fine jade gleamed with translucent brilliance, and the coral flowers carved with such precision they seemed to release fragrance. Even someone like me, ignorant of such things, could tell this was no ordinary object.
I looked back and forth between the hairpin and Dangun, bewildered. I couldn’t fathom why he would give such a precious thing to a mere female servant.
After racking my brain for some time, a conversation I’d once had with the Director came to mind.
‘Director, what does it mean to give a hairpin as a gift? Why does the subject keep coming up?’
‘That’s a marriage proposal. In the old days, they used hairpins to propose.’
……Surely the hairpin signified a marriage proposal.
Shock left me speechless.
Was this bastard proposing to a female servant a full decade younger than me?
As I hesitated, Dangun waved his hand as if urging me to take it.
“I didn’t buy anything for Juhui and Chohui. So what I’m giving you must remain a secret.”
His murmur was dripping with affection, yet I couldn’t bring myself to smile.
Setting aside who Juhui and Chohui were, what kind of relationship warranted giving a hairpin? This wasn’t something to accept carelessly.
The entire situation was too suspicious to dismiss as a misunderstanding.
Why would a direct descendant of the Dang Clan come to a female servant’s quarters in the outer ward in the middle of the night and act so familiar?
What reason could there be for surreptitiously handing over a hairpin, calling it a secret?
My suspicions multiplied, each breeding the next. My face twisted of its own accord.
Does this wretch have ulterior motives toward Sohye?

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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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