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Chapter 5
I greeted the unfamiliar people at my natal home with exaggerated friendliness, then sat down and started eating the snacks my mother served.
I needed to look normal. If I slipped up and revealed I was “possessed,” I was done for.
So I acted like the snacks were unbelievably delicious.
My father spoke with a grave expression.
“…So I made a bet. That within three years, at least one person in our family would pass the county-level civil exam.”
What kind of bombshell was that?
A strange, sticky unease rose from my fingertips.
“What did you wager?” my mother asked casually.
At that, my father hesitated.
“Middle Gate commercial district.”
A collective gasp echoed through the room.
“W-wait—surely you mean one shop, not the entire district?” my mother asked.
“…All of it.”
Silence.
My snacks stopped halfway to my mouth.
Twenty shops.
In modern terms, that’s like betting twenty buildings in Gangnam.
Maybe worse.
My mother began wailing.
“My goodness! Are you insane?! Those shops are priceless! You can’t even buy them with mountains of gold!”
I could feel my future collapsing with every sob.
Then I asked quietly, “What did the other side bet?”
My father replied.
“A sword.”
“…A sword?”
“Yes. A necessary one, when the time comes.”
A sword?
Not a literal sword. Something like military power.
So this wasn’t just a business bet.
It was politics.
Force.
Survival.
In this era, law was far away and fists were close.
And I… had just inherited a ticking time bomb.
That evening, after dinner, I stopped Mu Seon-hu.
“I need to talk to you.”
He looked at me in the fading sunset, expression unreadable.
“What is it?”
“Not here. Let’s go to Minghyeon Hall.”
We walked in silence.
The estate was already being renovated using my dowry. One building in particular was nearly finished.
Soon, Jang Yang-ran would move out of the main quarters into her own residence.
Strangely, the second son’s household was given separate housing, while the eldest son still lived with the parents.
No wonder she didn’t have children yet.
At the gate of Minghyeon Hall, my maids stopped.
“Miss, we cannot enter,” Jeong-oh said.
Only the young master and his attendant were allowed inside.
Of course.
Mu Seon-hu didn’t even glance at me as he entered.
No courtesy whatsoever.
I told the maids to wait and followed him inside.
His study was large, lined with bookshelves. A single desk sat at the center.
I pulled out the contract.
“My father signed this under unusual circumstances, so he’s worried. Could you take a look?”
I smiled politely.
Not even a twitch of his eyebrow.
“Doesn’t your father already have more than ten advisors? Why involve me?”
Of course. He had his own legal and financial “CSAT-grade tutors.”
Still, I insisted.
“Please just look at it.”
I spread the document on the desk.
Black characters swam before my eyes.
I understood nothing.
Not even a single letter.
My pride dropped straight to the floor.
He scanned it for about five seconds, then placed it down.
Without a word, he picked up the inkstone and dropped water onto it.
Then he began grinding ink.
His hand moved calmly—but I noticed faint scars on his knuckles.
Don’t tell me…
Was that from An An-yong scratching him?
