The Morning Star Baby Wants a Family - Chapter 72

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

Chapter 72
And with that, the matter was settled.
As Seowan prepared to lead Hae-na from the room, a piercing scream tore through the air from beyond the door.
Fortunately, the sound ceased quickly. Shortly after, Cheon-eul entered the room.
“She has awakened. She cannot channel her spiritual power, and since she was thrashing about like a madwoman, I rendered her unconscious, but….”
Cheon-eul, speaking calmly, turned to look at Yeon-ri.
“What shall we do with her?”
A Celestial Being of a household is the patriarch who commands the entire family.
Now that it was certain Hwa Yeon-bi was not a Celestial Being, it was only proper to ask Yeon-ri, the Pagun Seongggun, what punishment should be meted out.
To that question, Yeon-ri smiled prettily and replied.
“Bind her hands and feet, gag her, and lock her in a cabinet.”
Worried about what she might say next, Seowan’s hand covered Hae-na’s ears the moment Yeon-ri opened her mouth.
“A small cabinet just large enough for her to fit will do. Since we must carry it to the Capital, a heavy one would be troublesome.”
She spoke as though singing.
A look of disgust flickered across Cheon-eul’s face, but he nodded in acknowledgment.
The three of them left the room, leaving Yeon-ri to rest a while longer.
As they walked through the corridor, Cheon-eul spoke.
“What will you do now?”
“We’ll depart as soon as we’re ready. It’s grown quite late today, so we’ll leave at first light tomorrow.”
True to Seowan’s words, the long corridor of the Hall was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the setting sun.
‘If we leave tomorrow….’
Will the Pagun Seongggun remain here alone?
Hae-na, who had been following the two of them, faltered in her steps.
It was just as the child’s gaze began to drift backward without her realizing it.
“Hae-na?”
Seowan, standing a few paces ahead, called to me.
Just as Hae-na was about to say something, her stomach growled audibly.
Gurgle.
Hae-na’s face turned crimson. Cheon-eul’s expression, as he looked at me, was brimming with laughter.
“No, it’s just. That is….”
Breakfast had been earlier than usual, and lunch had been eaten lightly since she’d been so preoccupied.
Hae-na, attempting to explain, closed her mouth.
It was because she could see Seowan’s lips trembling as she fought to suppress her smile.
“P-please don’t laugh….”
Hae-na, her face flushed red as a strawberry, stammered.
Finally, Seowan, her eyes wide with amusement, took the child’s hand.
“You must be hungry. Let’s go eat.”
It was nice that she was laughing, but I was still terribly embarrassed.
Hae-na gave a small nod.
That evening’s meal at Gaeyang Palace was the most abundant they had received yet.
Throughout the meal, Seowan continuously added side dishes to Hae-na’s rice bowl, and Cheon-eul, seated across from the sisters, did the same.
“I shall take my leave now. Rest well, Seowan. Hae-na, you must be exhausted as well—sleep soundly.”
After the meal ended and Cheon-eul returned to his Hall, Hae-na settled into a chair, patting her slightly distended belly.
‘What…?’
Hae-na had fallen asleep without warning and now awoke, blinking her eyes. She found herself lying in the Bedchamber.
Someone had bathed her while she slept, for her entire body felt refreshed.
“I woke you, didn’t I?”
Seowan, seated at the head of the bed, spoke gently.
Hae-na shook her head with a vacant expression.
“It’s still the Hour of the Boar. Go back to sleep.”
With those words, Seowan extinguished the flickering candle on the table.
The room, which had been bathed in warm, dancing light, fell into darkness.
Seowan adjusted the child’s rumpled blanket, drawing it over her once more.
Lying beside Hae-na, she gently patted her younger sister.
Pat, pat.
Drowsiness crept in with the steady rhythm of her hand.
“Yawn…”
Hae-na yawned widely and drifted back into sleep.
Once Seowan confirmed the child had fallen asleep, she too closed her eyes.
In the quiet room, the gentle breathing of the two sleeping figures filled the silence.
Some time passed before Hae-na, who had been sleeping peacefully, felt her eyes twitch.
The child stirred slightly and opened her eyes groggily.
‘What is that sound?’
She heard someone groaning. But the manner in which it reached her was somehow different.
With drowsiness still clinging to her, Hae-na puzzled over it before understanding dawned.
This was not a sound she heard directly.
It was a sound carried by stagnant water somewhere, or by flowing wind.
‘This happened during the day too…’
Hae-na yawned again, contemplating the matter.
The sounds that reached her were like small children passing messages along.
They would rush in all at once and whisper, then pretend to obey when told to stop, only to burst in again on a whim.
‘Sister seemed to control it so effortlessly.’
Hae-na had witnessed Seowan several times—floating a landscape over the water in a cup, then gently stirring it to disperse it.
Having gained this power only recently, Hae-na could not yet control it as skillfully as Seowan did.
Still, she could close out the suddenly arriving sounds and return to sleep. But Hae-na hesitated.
[Ugh… ack… haah…]
The voice that came in fragments was wracked with pain.
And Hae-na recognized the voice’s owner.
[Hwa Yeon-bi, I’ll tear you to shreds…]
It was Yeon-ri’s voice.
Though she lacked vigor, Yeon-ri had been perfectly fine until afternoon—now she was groaning in distress.
Hae-na, puzzled at first, soon grasped the reason.
Moonlight poured through the window in abundance.
Where the moonlight seeped through, everything glowed blue.
The spiritual power of Celestial Beings and moonlight were fundamentally opposed.
Yeon-ri’s spiritual power, unstable after so recently recovering her strength, was raging against the moonlight.
Hae-na bit the inside of her mouth.
But the child’s face had already lost all trace of drowsiness.
Eventually, Hae-na rose carefully from the bed and summoned the wind with equal care.
‘Gently, gently—not a sound.’
Seowan possessed extraordinarily keen senses.
The slightest noise would wake him instantly, and he would demand to know what she was doing.
Recalling how Cheon-eul wielded his spiritual power, Hae-na wrapped the wind around her own body.
She descended from the bed with utmost care, then crept toward the door and slipped from the room without a sound.
The moment the door closed safely behind her, Hae-na exhaled the breath she had been holding.
‘That was incredibly difficult….’
In just those brief moments, sweat had beaded across her forehead.
She now keenly understood how delicately Cheon-eul manipulated the wind.
But this was far from over.
With resolute determination, Hae-na summoned the wind around her once more.
‘That room, wasn’t it?’
At the far end of the dark corridor, she spotted a faint glow of candlelight seeping through.
Hae-na walked toward it without a sound.
The voice that had been crying out in pain had transformed into eager, quickened breathing.
When the child reached the door and carefully opened it, she saw someone lying on a bed, illuminated by the flickering candlelight.
‘Pagun Seongggun….’
Hae-na closed the door and walked into the room with cautious steps.
Yeon-ri lay sleeping on the bed—she had finally fallen asleep after suffering through the pain.
Her pale face was drenched in cold sweat.
Her throat parched, the water pitcher that had been on the table now sat carelessly atop the half-cabinet beside the bed.
The pitcher was completely empty.
The window, where moonlight poured in unobstructed, had no curtain drawn across it whatsoever.
‘She insisted on being alone.’
Hwa Yeon-ri had firmly demanded that all servants be dismissed from her service.
As a result, even the minimal number of servants usually kept in the Hall had been removed.
“Ungh….”
At that moment, Hwa Yeon-ri let out a groan and stirred restlessly, her face contorted with pain.
Hae-na cast aside the last of her hesitation and crossed the room silently.
‘First things first.’
Approaching the wide window, Hae-na drew the heavy curtains closed, blocking out the moonlight.
As the blue moonlight faded, only a single candle illuminated the room.
My vision grew darker still, until I could barely make out the ground beneath my feet.
I carefully picked up the metal pitcher.
‘H-how heavy.’
The pitcher, forged from steel, weighed far more than I had anticipated.
But filling it here would surely alert Yeon-ri to my presence.
So I slipped out of the room, filled the pitcher with water, and quietly set it back in its original place.
Clink.
A soft, dull sound escaped.
The pitcher had been so heavy that I hadn’t managed to wrap it completely in wind, leaving it unguarded.
I immediately retreated and hurried from the room before Yeon-ri could wake.
And the next day.
“The preparations are complete, I hear.”
Seowan spoke as we took our morning meal.

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