Chapter 5

​”How do you plan to use an old man like that?”

​Yoo-ha had instructed the shopkeeper to provide food and care for the beggar. But why? What was the point of such charity? To Hwi, the man was a useless burden. He was genuinely curious about what Yoo-ha expected to gain in return; after all, in his world, no one bestowed kindness without a price.

​”As a clerk. Small shop owners can rarely afford to hire help. They need to step away at least once a day, but with no one to watch the stalls, they usually have to rely on their neighbors. Even that is difficult if the shops next door are busy.”

​”Just for that? If that was the goal, you could have picked up a younger beggar. Do you owe that old man a debt?”

​”A debt? Nothing like that.”

​”Then why?”

​”I… simply felt bad for him.”

​”You felt bad for him? Because he’s starving?”

​”Because he lost his granddaughter.”

​”So what? Everyone dies; only the manner of death differs. Besides, looking at him earlier, he didn’t even seem that sad.”

​Yoo-ha stopped in his tracks and looked up at Hwi. Meeting those dark, frigid eyes, Yoo-ha answered.

​”When people face a sorrow of immeasurable magnitude, they sometimes detach themselves from it just to survive. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t suffering. It’s because they cannot endure the weight of it otherwise.”

​”If they can separate themselves from it so easily, then the grief couldn’t have been that great.”

​”That isn’t necessarily true.”

​”You speak as if you’ve experienced it yourself.”

​Yoo-ha didn’t respond. He wondered for a moment if Hwi was being sarcastic, but he sensed no such malice. Like someone looking at the moon and simply stating that it was round, Hwi seemed to be observing the facts before him without a shred of emotion. Was he truly born this cold?

​”Let’s move. We’ll be late at this rate.”

​Yoo-ha cut the conversation short and headed back into the market alleys. After walking for some time, they arrived at a smithy.

​”Oh, Young Master! You’ve come.”

​A man who had been hammering iron in the back of the forge came running out to greet Yoo-ha.

​”Have you been well?”

​”Yes, thanks to you. Just a moment—I’ll bring it right away.”

​The man retrieved a letter and handed it over.

​”Thank you, as always.”

​When Yoo-ha offered his thanks, the blacksmith waved his hands dismissively and bowed low.

​”Don’t mention it, sir. If it weren’t for you, my family and I would be out on the streets.”

​Ji Mun-tak had been a blacksmith all his life. He had previously discovered that his workplace was producing defective weapons and selling them off secretly instead of destroying them. When he reported the corruption to the owner, he was fired. However, by a stroke of luck, he had received Yoo-ha’s help and secured a position at this forge. Had it not been for that intervention, he and his family might be begging in the gutters by now.

​”Pardon me. Was the owner of your previous smithy named O-mun?”

​”Yes, how did you…”

​”Just a hunch.”

​”That man O-mun is a nasty piece of work, Young Master. Please, stay far away from him. He likely wouldn’t dare harm you directly, but with his sort, you never know.”

​”I understand. If there is anything else I can assist you with, please contact me at any time.”

​”No, no. You have already done more than enough. Well then, I shall see you next month.”

​Listening to their exchange, Hwi eyed the letter clutched in Yoo-ha’s hand. In a fleeting moment, he caught a glimpse of the contents.

​Port departure goods?

​”Let us go,” Yoo-ha said.

​As they began to retrace their steps, Hwi glanced back at the blacksmith, who was still bowing repeatedly toward Yoo-ha’s retreating back. The sight was fascinating.

​”Did you help that man, too?”

​”He is a skilled blacksmith; I merely found him a place to work. That is all.”

​”Why?”

​”Why?”

​”Yes. Why.”

​”Do I truly need a reason?”

​It was bizarre. First the beggar, now this man. Did he truly give such favors for no reason at all?

​”No,” Hwi replied. “You don’t.”

​There is no such thing as kindness without a motive. It simply isn’t visible yet. Hwi mentally reconciled Yoo-ha’s words with his own cynical world-view as he followed. It seemed he had stumbled upon something genuinely interesting in the Kingdom of Ansi.

​”Do you even have a brain?! How dare you take it upon yourself to bring a stranger into this house!”

​”We provide you with food and clothing even though you aren’t even a Maru. Instead of thinking of a way to repay our charity, you are out squandering the family fortune. Tsk.”

​Seong Seok-hyeon, the head of the Seong family and Yoo-ha’s father, roared in a fit of rage. Seated beside him, Lady Park, the mistress of the house, echoed the patriarch’s anger, taking his criticism a step further.

​Every descendant of the Seong family was attended by five servants each—except for Yoo-ha. He was assigned only two, one of whom was currently bedridden. Yoo-ha had petitioned Lady Park—his father’s second wife and the woman currently sneering at him—multiple times for even a temporary replacement. She had consistently feigned deafness to his requests.

​Yoo-ha had much he wanted to say in his defense, but he remained silent. Experience had taught him that any word he spoke would only be twisted into a fresh fault.

​”Father, please forgive Brother Yoo-ha. Consider that his lack of education simply left him ill-equipped to think things through. From what I hear, the old nanny will be incapacitated for some time; surely he only brought this servant in until she recovers. Isn’t that right, Brother?”

​Yoo-ha’s half-brother—whose cheeks sagged as unsightly as those of his greedy mother—intervened with a tone that mimicked a protector. Lady Park shot her son a sharp, warning glare.

​”I will send him away in half a year.”

​Yoo-ha offered the concise, stripped-down answer, but the family patriarch, Seong Seok-hyeon, merely clicked his tongue as if the very sight of his son was repulsive. He was already bristling at the thought of another mouth to feed when there were so many other ways to spend the family’s coin. He stroked his patchy beard, feigning deep thought, before delivering his verdict in a solemn, heavy voice.

​”Understand this: every expense for that slave you dragged in—his food, his keep—will be deducted from your own allowance.”

​The Head’s true feelings for Yoo-ha were laid bare in that threat; he was cutting an allowance that was already less than half of what Yoo-ha’s half-brothers received. Yoo-ha remembered clearly how, only a month ago, the Head hadn’t even blinked when one of his other sons boasted of bringing a high-priced servant all the way from the Mir Kingdom. Yet, Yoo-ha simply bowed his head with politeness.

​”Yes, Father. I understand.”

​As if the mere sound of Yoo-ha’s voice was exhausting, the Head waved a dismissive hand and sighed. Lady Park stepped in immediately, offering him tea and comforting him in a saccharine, syrupy voice.

​”Do not fret, my lord. I shall see to it that the boy is managed properly. Here, have some tea; getting this worked up is no good for your health.” She then turned her venom on Yoo-ha. “And you—why are you still standing there with that sour look on your face? If you have nothing else to say, get out. Honestly, to think you took after only the most unlovable traits… Tsk.”

​Yoo-ha burned with the urge to say just one thing—to tell her never to speak of his mother that way—but he bit back the impulse. For now, securing Hwi’s stay in the annex to assist the nanny and Yong-rae was the only priority. Yoo-ha bowed to Seong Seok-hyeon, left the study, and made his way toward his grandmother’s quarters.