Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Merchant - Anhui (6)
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“Don’t try any tricks. If you don’t have it, then where the hell did the seal disappear to!”
“I truly don’t know. The Clan Leader didn’t leave me any message...”
“Nonsense!”
The old man’s roar echoed through the room.
The slender-faced woman stood ramrod straight, facing his fury head-on.
“What reason would I have to lie?”
“Plenty! A lowly wretch like you just happened to catch the Clan Leader’s eye and snag that position. Now that he’s gone, you probably think this whole Jang Clan House is yours for the taking! You thought I wouldn’t know you’re scheming that without the seal, it’s all yours!”
The woman’s shoulders twitched.
Her tightly clenched fists showed just how much his words had shaken her.
Yet the woman did not cower.
As if this was the only thing she could do, she stared straight at the old man and continued.
“…I don’t know.”
“You bitch…!”
The old man ground his teeth.
He steadied his breathing as if trying to suppress his rage, then curled his lips into a sinister smile.
“…Fine. Let’s see how long you can hold out.”
The old man rose from his seat.
Contempt and hatred gleamed in his eyes as he looked at her.
He clicked his tongue in disgust and left the room.
Thud-.
As the door slammed shut, the woman finally relaxed and let out a breath.
Each word had stabbed like a dagger into her heart, and with nowhere to lean, exhaustion weighed on her—but she did not collapse.
‘It’s fine. I’m used to it.’
She was familiar with such treatment.
She had steeled herself for this from the day she entered the Jang Clan House as a low-born.
The woman swallowed the sob rising in her throat and lifted her head.
That very moment.
“Ha… Showing tears like that is troubling. I can’t just let a woman’s tears slide.”
An unfamiliar voice rang out in the room.
The woman jerked her head up.
Before her stood a young man with a weasel-like face, grinning.
Bewilderment crossed her features.
“Wh-who… Guards…!”
“Shh-.”
The man—Jegal San—brought a finger to his lips.
As he did, he pulled a worn letter from his bosom.
“I’ve come to deliver a letter. From your younger brother.”
The woman froze.
Her eyes widened at his words.
“Your brother doesn’t know how to write. So I took down what he said word for word. Don’t mind the handwriting—just read it.”
He was a suspicious man.
She figured there was a high chance his words were lies.
Yet she numbly accepted the letter he offered.
It was like clutching at a rotten straw rope in desperation.
“He asked me to check if his older sister was safe...”
Jegal San watched as she held her breath the moment she unfolded the letter.
The emotion pooling in her trembling eyes could only be described as sorrow.
“…It seems you’re not doing well at all.”
“...”
The woman bit her lip hard as she read the letter.
Don’t worry too much—I’m fine.
It must be hard losing your husband, but please hold on.
I’m sorry I can’t come see you.
The worried sincerity from her one and only blood kin seeped into her heart, despite the stranger’s handwriting.
“…It really is from my brother. Only he’d write something this pointless.”
“Hm?”
“I must not be doing well. The letters I sent every month have stopped.”
At her self-mocking words, Jegal San fell silent.
The man he had met was truly in a pitiful state.
Silence was affirmation.
Gripping the letter so tightly it crumpled, the woman looked up.
“Thank you for bringing news of my brother. If it’s not too much trouble, could I ask one more favor?”
“…What is it?”
“Please tell him I’m doing well. And this money...”
The woman opened her sleeve and offered jade rings and a few gold trinkets.
“…could you deliver these to him as well? Please.”
“Hmm… Why not go yourself?”
“I assume you overheard my conversation with the elder. And you must have seen it on your way here. That I’m trapped in this place.”
Jegal San nodded.
‘A common tale.’
A low-born woman elevated to wife facing clan oppression, widowed and threatened for her position.
Living like a prisoner in the process.
It happened everywhere.
Jegal San’s gaze drifted to her belly.
It was subtly swollen, barely noticeable unless you looked closely.
‘She’s not alone.’
Indeed, she was a woman with something to protect.
“You move so quietly, you must possess remarkable martial arts.”
“Well, leaving that aside—what makes you think you can trust me with that? What if I take it and run?”
“A man dressed in such fine clothes wouldn’t stoop to theft for lack of anything.”
The woman’s eyes flicked to Jegal San’s attire.
Jegal San smacked his lips and scratched the back of his head.
“Should’ve changed clothes before coming.”
“I know it’s an unreasonable request, but...”
“No need.”
Jegal San let out a chuckle.
“I came all this way, and leaving empty-handed feels wrong, so I’ll gladly help.”
“Ah, thank you...!”
“But.”
Jegal San bent down to meet her eyes.
And asked.
“Think about it until evening. Whether enduring here is truly best for the child.”
Question filled the woman’s eyes.
Jegal San gave an awkward smile.
‘It’s meddling.’
He knew, yet he had to say it.
Certain women brought someone to mind.
“If I were your child, I wouldn’t want to see my mother suffering humiliation for my sake.”
“What do you...”
“I’ll give you time to think. About two hours. I’ll return at sunset.”
With that, Jegal San vanished.
Left alone in the room, the woman mulled over his words.
*
“San-ah.”
At the hazy voice calling him, Jegal San lifted his head.
The scene before him was the inner quarters of the clan estate where he had spent his childhood.
Amid well-tended trees and a pond stood the woman he would miss all his life.
“San-ah!”
“Mother...”
A mother he could never see again.
Slanted eyes and a fox-like face.
Yet unlike her appearance, she had a upright, principled character—a kind soul.
She stomped over angrily.
And yanked his ear.
The moment his ear was pulled, the heel kicking up in response—and the persistent height difference—made him realize he was in a child’s body.
‘It’s a dream.’
His mother in the dream bellowed.
“How many times have I told you not to go to the outhouse!”
Veins bulged on her forehead; she was furious.
Yet even on that angry face, Jegal San felt laughter bubbling up the instant he saw it.
“You’re laughing?! Laughing?!”
“Eek! M-Mother!!!”
It was an incredibly vivid dream.
No pain, yet his mouth screamed on its own, giving the perfect illusion.
“Why do you always dig around in that damn outhouse?!”
Jegal San knew which day this was.
The memory of six-year-old him, obsessed with *Tales of the Jianghu Heroes*.
Deeply moved by the righteous hero burying himself in the outhouse to escape assassin scum, he had tormented his mother that day.
“S-sorry...”
“You get it now! No, you shouldn’t have done it at all!”
Jegal San repeated his apologies while laughing.
‘Ah.’
A regression to such a blissful moment.
Even knowing it was a dream, he didn’t want to wake—a regression like that.
Tears welled as he smiled at his mother.
A low-born woman who became mistress of the Jegal Clan.
Always proud despite it.
…And warm even on the day poison claimed her.
“I can’t live because of you! Know what the elders say when they see you? Outhouse Prince. Outhouse Prince!”
His beloved mother’s voice scratched at his ears.
She released his ear, pressed her forehead, and sighed as she bent down.
“San-ah. Hmm? Should I burn that *Tales of the Jianghu Heroes* or whatever to knock some sense into you?”
“Sorry...”
“Heroes are fine. They’re great, but why obsess over the outhouse scenes instead of the cool ones? That Sword Hero or whatever—you could like that, right?”
“The Sword Hero isn’t cool...”
“I’ll shut that trap of yours!”
Jegal San’s mother pinched his lips.
His duck-bill pout made her burst into hollow laughter, shaking her head.
“Ugh, forget it. What’s the use of talking.”
She was always like this.
Fuming and scolding, but after a few exchanges, her anger melted into laughter.
Jegal San loved it, so he laughed along.
“Mother.”
“What!”
“Thank you.”
His mother furrowed her brow.
Wary of whatever nonsense he’d spout next.
Recalling how much of a troublemaker his younger self was, Jegal San chuckled and continued.
“Come out like this sometimes.”
Such a sweet dream.
But one he couldn’t indulge in.
She was of the past, and what she truly wanted was for him to move forward.
-Be a man you can face with pride.
That’s what she had asked until the end.
“I truly...”
Jegal San held the words in his mouth.
Chewed them fine, gathered them softly, and spat them out.
“…truly love you.”
The scene blurred.
*
Jegal San opened his eyes on the inner quarters’ roof.
He blinked, then chuckled dryly as he gathered the jade stones scattered around.
For a moment, the surroundings hazed, then sharpened.
‘Hm...’
A deep smile lingered on his lips.
Relishing the afterglow of seeing that cherished face.
The sky had turned ruddy.
Realizing the two hours he’d promised were up, Jegal San rose.
‘Time to go.’
Time to hear her answer.
*
“Have you made up your mind?”
The woman looked at the man before her.
He waited for her reply with a beaming smile.
Suspicious. Utterly suspicious.
Yet she couldn’t hide her growing reliance on him.
“…May I ask one thing?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why go this far to help me?”
The woman hardened her expression and met Jegal San’s eyes.
Still slender-faced, but her gaze shone with resolve amid the firmness.
“Do I need a reason?”
“I do.”
The woman clenched her fists on her lap.
“I don’t have much to offer in return. I may be the mistress of this clan house, but I hold little actual power. Whether I stay and endure alone or escape as you suggest, there’s nothing in it for a great hero like you.”
“I know.”
“So answer me. Knowing that, why help?”
The question was her last shred of reason.
The bare minimum defense to protect the child in her womb.
Following him blindly without knowing his intent was gambling with her child’s safety on mere hope.
Jegal San gazed at her tearfully.
Studied her tense face for a long moment, then grinned.
“Just because.”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m doing it because I want to.”
The woman’s face went blank.
Jegal San found it amusing and continued.
“I’m the type who can’t stand seeing a woman cry.”
Especially not one about to become a mother.
He couldn’t turn away from a grieving woman and face himself.
His侠意—his hero’s intent—existed to wipe away such tears.