Surviving as the Wife of the Swordsmanship Clan’s Troublemaker - Chapter 6

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 6

***

“No! Don’t do that!”

A shrill voice cut through the air.

I grabbed the unfamiliar man’s hand and shouted.

“Have you never peeled a potato before?”

I held up what he had peeled… no, butchered, with a bewildered expression.

This mercenary, why is he so bad at peeling potatoes?

Don’t tell me he’s lived this long without properly peeling a single potato?

“Of course I haven’t.”

The man replied as if it wasn’t even a real question.

When you go to war, potatoes are what you eat day in and day out. Moreover, many mercenaries carry dried potatoes as preserved food.

So I thought he’d be able to peel potatoes cleanly and left it to him…

“Again! Look, there’s so much flesh still attached to the peel. That’s chopping potatoes into chunks, not peeling them! Look at all this flesh on the peel! You could make soup for three people with this!”

The potato I had left to the man was nearly cut in half.

“That’s enough. Stop cutting and do something else.”

“…What else do you want me to do.”

He threw the potato he was holding onto the ground. When I glared at him, he quickly washed it and put it in the basket.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

What might have been an excuse came out quietly.

“Well, you’ve probably practiced swordsmanship. You wouldn’t have practiced peeling potatoes.”

I sighed and held out a potato I had cleanly peeled.

“What are you going to make me do now.”

“This time it’s something very easy.”

“What is it.”

“Here, please grate this potato very finely.”

After much deliberation about what to make with potatoes, I finally decided on a menu.

Potato pancakes.

I’d eaten pancakes enough to be sick of them and made them too, but I hadn’t made potato pancakes even once in 10 years.

They didn’t go on ancestral rites tables, and my husband hated them.

So I had forgotten about them until I saw potatoes being sold at the market.

“Just grate it as finely as possible. That should be easy enough, right?”

There’s no way there’d be a grater here, and I don’t have spare money to make one myself.

So I need to work this strong mercenary hard.

“What are you talking about.”

The mercenary looked confused again.

I rolled up my sleeves and explained as detailed as possible.

“You need to smash it so badly that you can’t tell if it’s a potato or potato porridge.”

He tilted his head.

From the way he was tilting his head, he clearly didn’t understand.

As I was thinking about how to explain it so he’d understand immediately, a good idea came to mind.

“Okay! So think of this potato as someone you really hate and turn it into mush.”

“…Someone I hate?”

“Yes.”

“Like people who torment or kill others?”

“That’s right. Everyone has at least one person whose face they’d like to grind up.”

“I understand.”

Huh? He really understood right away?

His eyes changed instantly.

Chop chop chop chop!!!

“Whoa whoa whoa!”

The potato split in two in mid-air, then instantly began separating into four pieces, then eight pieces.

Wait, how many pieces is it split into now?

His arm spun brilliantly like a blade inside a blender.

‘Just who is this person he resents so much…!’

Whoever it is, I’m glad it’s not me.

Slice slice slice-!

When did he complain about potato starch getting on his blade? Now he was swinging his sword like a tornado.

Just as I was worried the potato might cook from the heat, he stopped his body all at once.

“Amazing.”

Potato batter completed in 5 minutes!

“Wow, how did it get grated so finely?”

It was fine enough to say it had been ground with a state-of-the-art blender.

I thought it would be roughly chopped at best with that crude, large sword, but it exceeded my expectations.

“Is it done now.”

The mercenary lowered his sword, still hot from use.

When I handed him a dry towel, he wiped the blade clean.

“Very good. It’s what I wanted, no, even better.”

“Such a fuss.”

“Aren’t you really a swordsmanship genius? Did I unknowingly bring along a really famous swordsman?”

Haha.

If I strain this through cloth to separate the starch water and season it, I’m done!

“…Say that again.”

Then the mercenary suddenly grabbed my wrist. His eyes, glimpsed through his hair, were quite intense.

“Did I say my inner thoughts out loud? That I just need to strain it and season it?”

“Not that. What you just said.”

“Famous swordsman? Or that you’re a swordsmanship genius?”

That must have been right because he let go of my wrist.

“Do you really think so?”

A faint voice was heard.

“Yes, I mean it. But you should know you’re still far from earning 2 silver.”

Just in case he might run away, I added that.

He stared at me through his fallen hair as if sizing me up.

“What’s wrong? Haven’t you heard compliments for a day or two?”

What a suspicious person.

I put another potato in his hand. A large potato sat in his rough, big hand.

Just as he was about to start working again.

“You, how are you here…!”

Someone’s voice, as if looking for him, was heard.

As soon as the mercenary saw him, he hurriedly ran into the alley. A hooded man frantically followed behind him.

“What. He really was popular.”

I looked at him and opened the oil lid.

I was going to fry some potato pancakes and ask him to taste-test them.

I’ll have to ask Michelle again today.

***

A little while ago.

Huff! Huff!

Though he hadn’t run far, Carlos was completely out of breath.

“Cough! Cough cough.”

After hearing the shocking news from Michelle, he had fled the scene as if escaping and stopped in a dark alley.

He had only stopped for a moment, but his legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground.

“No. That can’t be true.”

Karl recalled the conversation from earlier.

“Hallara is pregnant.”

“P-p-p-pregnant?”

“Oh my. I’m running my mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything?”

“Just earlier you were only speculating about pregnancy, weren’t you? You’re saying she’s actually pregnant?”

“What, were you eavesdropping on our conversation?”

Michelle’s voice still buzzed in his ears like a mosquito.

“Whose child is it?”

“How would I know? I’m just helping her because she says she wants to live properly now that she’s having a baby! So don’t come looking for me anymore. Understand?”

Her disgusted expression and tone made the pregnancy seem real.

Pregnant!

The first young master hasn’t even married yet!

The second young master, and Docheop at that, who hasn’t even established his position in the family, suddenly having a child!

What kind of ridiculous story is this?

If this is true, the young master is finished.

‘The family atmosphere hasn’t been good lately either…’

If it becomes known that the second young master caused such a major incident…

For a while, he and the other servants would be so overwhelmed by the pressure they wouldn’t even be able to lift their heads.

“M-Madam…”

A groan escaped through his cracked lips.

Just thinking about reporting this fact to Francesca made him breathless.

‘No. Maintain your dignity, Carlos. Think calmly. Even if the pregnancy is true, there’s no proof the child is Docheop’s.’

Carlos took a deep breath to clear his mind.

What matters is who the father is.

Hallara is a woman also called the village harlot.

That means there are plenty of men involved with her.

Who the father is remains unknown.

‘It’s still too early. I made a promise to Madam, so I need to find out everything properly and thoroughly!’

Carlos lifted his trembling legs.

There’s still hope. He hurried off to find Hallara.

“Have you seen that golden-haired woman?”

Since she supposedly only goes back and forth to the market these days, he searched for her traces there.

“I saw her briefly this morning but not since then.”

“She just came and left?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Where could she be?

Even the vegetable shop owner she frequently visited hadn’t seen her.

Karl picked up his pace a bit more.

When he reached the blacksmith at the end of the market after asking around, he finally found someone who had seen her.

“Golden-haired woman…”

“That woman? She was here until just a while ago.”

The blacksmith with sparse white whiskers answered immediately.

“She was here? Really?”

“What’s with you. I’m still far from senile.”

“Of course. Then where did she go now?”

“That I wouldn’t know.”

As the blacksmith spoke and turned away, Karl followed him.

“Could you at least tell me which direction she went? I have something important to ask her.”

He added the explanation to avoid any strange misunderstandings.

Like Michelle had done.

Then the blacksmith’s lips curved into a grin.

Karl took it as a positive sign and smiled along, when suddenly.

“She left with some tall, handsome young man?”

The blacksmith delivered what he thought was good news.

Karl’s eyes flashed instantly.

‘Got it!’

It seemed he might be able to catch the child’s father today, or at least someone he could pin as the father.

“They went that way.”

Karl hurried in the direction the blacksmith indicated.

Anticlimactically, Hallara’s destination was her own house.

‘She said no men allowed, yet here she is brazenly bringing a man home.’

She was in the courtyard.

And the man who appeared to be the child’s father was also in the courtyard.

Holding a potato in his hand.

‘Finally found him.’

Karl focused his gaze intently.

He could see Hallara smiling.

“Aren’t you really a swordsmanship genius?”

Then a gentle breeze blew.

As the wind stirred the grass that had been blocking his view, the man’s appearance came into sight.

“Young Master Docheop…?”

A handsome face with disheveled clothing.

The person who absolutely should not be here was right before his eyes.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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