Free Web Novel“Se-Seventh Elder...!”
The startled maids hurriedly lowered themselves. Simyang dropped her gaze too, like she hadn’t been snarling a second ago.
I flinched at the title they used for Tang Geunmyeong and stared, eyes wide.
This guy was an Elder?
No—sir. Who uses a clan Elder as their personal bodyguard?
“It’s a time when guests are in residence. A vulgar hair-pulling brawl—are you trying to smear mud over the Tang Clan’s name?”
“N-no, we’re not...! We were only trying to teach manners to an insolent child...!”
“You overstepped. You should know better than anyone what punishment is given to those who harm a member of the household.”
At his voice, cold as a sheet of ice, Simyang flattened herself to the ground. But Tang Geunmyeong looked like he had no intention of getting further involved. Wearing an annoyed expression, he flicked his hand.
“Go back and do your work. I’ll report what happened today to the Head Steward.”
“Y-yes, Seventh Elder...!”
Before Tang Geunmyeong even finished speaking, Simyang’s group scattered in all directions. Simyang, left alone, fled too—almost crawling along the ground as she went.
Her back, squirming away like a fat grub, was pathetic beyond words.
After wrapping up the situation in an instant, Tang Geunmyeong turned to me.
“You.”
“Y-yes?”
Tang Geunmyeong looked like he was about to say something, then twitched his nose and shut his mouth. Like the stench coming off me was hard to endure.
He cleared his throat, pulled out a clean piece of cotton cloth, and tossed it at me.
“Wipe off.”
“Thank you.”
The moment I snatched it and scrubbed my face, he scolded me.
“Don’t cause trouble. Even without you, Grand Elder has plenty to be tired about.”
“Ahaha... Could you keep this a secret from Grand Elder?”
“No.”
After answering flatly, Tang Geunmyeong ignored me and turned his back. He’d only stepped in because of Tang Jung—he clearly had zero interest in me.
...Yeah. I’m screwed.
If Tang Geunmyeong saw it, it was only a matter of time before it reached Tang Jung. I could already picture Tang Jung chewing me out for “I told you not to stand out,” after I went and caused an incident anyway.
I let out a sigh and pinched my nose shut.
Getting yelled at was getting yelled at. First, I really needed to wash.
*****
It wasn’t hard to realize how miserable I looked. Everyone I passed went out of their way to detour around me.
When I entered the servants’ wing, dripping filthy wastewater, what I heard was even worse.
“G-gh-gh-ghost...!”
A maid from the next quarters yelped, sprang back behind a pillar, and muttered something I couldn’t understand—like she was chanting a spell to drive a ghost away.
Seriously. Calling me a ghost is a bit much.
“I’m not a ghost.”
“A g-ghost... t-talks!”
“I’m talking because I’m not a ghost.”
“Y-you’re... not a ghost? Really?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m a person.”
Only then did the maid relax enough to peek her face out from beside the pillar.
“Th-then... what happened...? Wh-why do you look... l-like that?”
“Yeah. Haha.”
How did I end up like this? I’d like to know, too.
When I laughed weakly, the maid—watching my face—shuffled closer, hesitant.
“I-it’s still chilly out... Do you have... c-clothes to change into? I-I could... l-lend you mine...”
Her tone was full of concern, and there was something clumsy about [N O V E L I G H T] the way she spoke—like a kid who stuttered.
“Would that be okay? My laundry still isn’t dry.”
“Y-yeah! W-wait!”
She nodded hard and ran into her quarters, then came back with fresh clothes.
“H-here. This... um, do you want me to... t-take it to your quarters...?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Y-yeah. Let’s go. S-Sohae... right? Um... I heard... you’ve been having a hard time because of Simyang’s group...”
“Yeah, they’re actually the reason I look like this.”
“Th-those girls... are r-really awful...”
“Does Simyang bully you too?”
“N-not lately... B-but they... they keep h-hitting people for no reason... th-they’re r-really mean!”
The maid suddenly shouted, like she had a lot built up too.
The maid I’d spoken to for the first time was named Gyeonga.
Gyeonga was a year younger than me, and she said she helped the cooks in the kitchen.
Maybe that was why her hands were so capable. She even managed to get a whole jar of hot water from the kitchen and helped set up my bath.
Despite her slow, halting speech, her movements were brisk and confident as she adjusted the bathwater temperature. Then she pressed a rice-bran pouch into my hand.
And when that still didn’t seem enough, she came back with a huge washbasin filled to the brim.
“U-use this... If you r-rinse with... w-water boiled with sweet flag... th-the smell... will g-go away.”
“Thank you.”
“Th-there’s... a lot... s-stuck in your hair... C-can you... b-bend this way?”
As Gyeonga picked bits of unknown sludge out of my hair, she started chattering about herself.
“I-I... draw water from the well... and... do the dishes...”
“Isn’t hauling water up with a bucket hard? I was doing laundry duty until not long ago. Every time I had to fill and dump water, I got so mad I wanted to bury the well.”
“R-right! Th-that bucket rope... if you p-pull wrong... it r-rubs your hands...”
“Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. Do your palms still hurt? I’ve got a good ointment. Want me to put it on later?”
It worked. It was literally made by Uncle Wonryong, the Namgung Medical Hall Master.
At my offer, Gyeonga’s face brightened and she nodded eagerly.
“I-I want it...”
“Okay. Once I’m done bathing, I’ll come to your quarters.”
“Y-yeah! You... did l-laundry duty... alone? Th-that must’ve been... r-really hard... N-no one wants to... do laundry duty... It’s the h-hardest...”
“It was manageable. Kitchen work has to be brutal too. That sounds exhausting.”
“I-it’s okay. Watching the cooks... o-over their shoulders... is f-fun. And I... I... w-want to become... a side-dish cook.”
“A side-dish cook?”
“I-mean... the side-dish maker. Th-the person who... makes the side dishes.”
“Do you like cooking?”
“Y-yeah! I... I l-like... making food. I-I can’t... d-dare touch much yet... b-but someday...”
Gyeonga, shyly confessing her ambition, fell quiet. It sounded like she wanted to cook alongside the kitchen staff someday. Kitchen work must have suited her.
She told me she’d been in the Tang estate for about half a year. Before that, she’d helped with chores under a cook at a small inn.
No wonder her hands were so practiced. She was experienced.
“Then how old were you when you started working?”
“T-ten...!”
“Oh, man...”
Starting work at an age when just memorizing multiplication tables would be impressive—my words got stuck.
My eyes drifted to Gyeonga’s small shoulders. I knew I couldn’t force modern standards onto this place, but I couldn’t help feeling uneasy anyway.
“D-do you... n-not want to hear it?”
“Hear what?”
“Th-that... Um... the older girls... t-tell me... n-not to talk... Th-that it’s... f-frustrating to listen...”
Gyeonga’s head drooped. She seemed to think I was frustrated.
“It’s fine. I’m not frustrated.”
When I answered like it was nothing, Gyeonga’s expression brightened.
“Th-then... th-that’s a relief. T-towel... here...”
“Thanks. Do I still smell?”
“N-not anymore... n-now!”
Gyeonga looked proud as she handed me the clothes to change into.
But there was one more problem.
“Th-this is bad...”
“Too short?”
“Yeah. A lot...”
Gyeonga’s skirt was short on me—hitched way up above my ankles.
I tried tugging the hem down, thinking of someone who would freak out and call this improper, but my ankles still showed either way.
While I was trying to figure out what to do, a familiar voice called out.
“Hey! Sohae, are you in here?”
“Songji? I’m here!”
At my shout, Songji came running, opened the door, and stuck her head in.
“Did you bathe? You were soaked. That’s not the point, though. Tang Jung is looking for you. He says to come to his quarters right now.”
“Grandfather is?”
“Yeah. The Seventh Elder stopped by.”
Songji answered with an anxious face. Gyeonga stared at me too, mouth hanging open.
I rubbed my forehead, exhausted.
Damn it. He must’ve heard I caused trouble.
*****
By the time I arrived at Tang Jung’s quarters, the sun was drooping low.
Judging by the red glow settling over everything, it felt like around six. In their terms... right. The Rooster double-hour.
I tugged down my too-short skirt and cleared my throat.
“Ahem. Grandfather, I’m coming in.”
“Come in.”
When I entered the reception room, Tang Jung was there, fiddling with a teacup with an annoyed expression. Without even looking at me, he grumbled.
“I told you to be out for only one double-hour, and you couldn’t endure even that without causing an incident.”
“Ahaha. I didn’t do it on purpose... but I’m sorry.”
“It’s a good thing Geunmyeong happened to see it. If the Head Steward had intervened directly, more people would’ve come to recognize you. This grandfather clearly told you to keep your head down...”
As he scolded me, Tang Jung lifted his head—and his gaze landed on me.
At the same time, the teacup in his hand shattered, exploding into fragments that scattered everywhere. I jerked, grabbing at my throat, but I was a beat too late.
Tang Jung, his face twisting into a murderous snarl, sprang to his feet.
“G-Grandfather? That was the Jingdezhen porcelain you treasured—saying you only had one piece left...”
“Which bastard dog dares lay a hand on your face. I’ll tear them—!”
“My face?”
Startled, I touched my cheek—and my fingers found a thin cut along it. When she tried to slice my throat, it must’ve grazed my face too.
Tang Jung, looking like he hadn’t even noticed until now, clutched his head and pressed hard at his temples.
“Sohae, you’ll be the death of me before my time. In my old age—what kind of suffering is this...?”
After sighing again and again, he strode over and examined my face.
“On that pretty face... what is this. How upsetting... Is it only your face? Anywhere else?”
“I’m fine. It’s not serious.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No. I’m okay.”
“It’ll scar. We need to put medicine on it first.”
Tang Jung sat me down and carefully applied ointment. And even then he didn’t look reassured—he wrapped a clean cloth around my neck, too.
I wriggled my fingers awkwardly.
It was barely a scratch, but seeing Tang Jung look so genuinely upset—as if I’d broken a bone—made me feel strange.
Who would’ve thought that “young master,” the one who’d once been so indifferent, would end up like this? My lower belly itched in a stupid, prickly way.
After putting the ointment away, he muttered, like he couldn’t figure out what to do with this pitiful thing, and stroked my cheek.
His eyes were the same look you gave an overturned turtle, helplessly flailing on its back.
“You’re too soft. Getting hit and pushed around...”
Grandfather. I hit them too.
“This old man spoke wrong. Better you cause trouble than let someone chew you up. Go around beating them.”
“Pardon?”
“I’ll teach you while we’re at it. Child—when someone threatens you...” freeweɓnøvel.com
I told you I hit them. Also, is it really okay to teach someone to go around hitting people?
With a sudden change in his eyes, Tang Jung began rattling off pressure points—one after another—that could paralyze a person in an instant.
At the string of sentences that made my internal censorship alarms scream, I smiled weakly and closed my eyes.
