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Chapter 06
Reading the worry and doubt on Sorae’s face, Yeongwon swallowed a bitter smile and added,
“I need money, Sorae. Only then can I clear my parents’ injustice… or take revenge… or do anything at all.”
After her parents passed away, the Ha family was gone.
She had no trustworthy relatives, and the bit of silver that remained had been spent on travel expenses.
If simply surviving were her goal, she wouldn’t have needed to walk a thousand ri to find Jejado.
But she had to clear her parents’ wrongful deaths, repay whoever plotted this tragedy in full, and someday restore the Ha family.
To do that, she needed money.
To earn money, she needed to do business—yet she had no capital at all.
So she set her sights on the Geom family.
Her plan was that if she could divert even a small portion of the profits from the Geom family’s inn business to herself—as her father once did—she could slowly build the funds needed for revenge, even if it took years.
“My lady…”
Sorae parted her lips, then furrowed her nose in frustration.
In her heart, she wanted desperately to stop Yeongwon.
But the resolute light in Yeongwon’s eyes forced her to swallow those words.
People who didn’t know her often assumed, seeing her clear and delicate beauty, that she must be gentle and mild-tempered.
But in truth, Yeongwon possessed a hidden steel—once she set her mind on something, she accomplished it.
Once, a clerk from a merchant caravan visiting their house had woven straw sandals in front of Yeongwon.
Amazed that such simple straw could be turned into shoes, she followed the elder servants around for days, begging them to teach her.
But making straw sandals was rough work on the hands, and no one dared teach such a task to a precious young lady.
Even so, Yeongwon stubbornly coaxed an elderly servant for over three months, and in the end, she learned.
Naturally, her cloud-soft hands became covered in cuts and blisters before she could make a proper pair.
Yet nine-year-old Yeongwon had insisted she asked for it herself, and she endured the pain without a tear.
So when she later declared she would inherit the merchant company, everyone in the household was certain.
In the end, Sunyang would pass the great merchant guild down to Yeongwon.
And they all knew it wasn’t because she was Sunyang’s beloved only daughter—
but because she never quit until she achieved what she set out to do.
“…My lady, don’t worry. Whatever you choose to do… it will be so. I believe it.”
Sorae said softly, looking at Yeongwon leaning against the cave wall.
Though Yeongwon had never done business, she had read many books, and for nearly a year she had studied ledgers and the inn trade—the very foundation of the merchant guild—to prepare to succeed Sunyang.
She wasn’t simply intelligent; she was exceptionally bright. Whatever she did, she would excel.
Sorae tapped her dull head lightly in self-reproach.
Instead of being helpful, she kept dragging things down with her worries.
Get it together, Sorae.
“Rest now. Tomorrow, we must find Jejado.”
“Yes, my lady!”
They had wandered the mountain all day, and not long before, they had run nearly half a shijin straight—about an hour.
Their exhaustion was at its peak.
Sorae intended to sleep only after Yeongwon drifted off, but her resolve melted instantly; she fell asleep at once.
But Yeongwon, leaning against the jagged cave wall, stared into the dark forest with dim, unfocused eyes.
Her body felt ready to collapse from exhaustion, yet her mind was clear.
Her father had been one of the rarest honest merchants in all of Jo-won.
He was generous to his servants and opened his warehouses every year to help disaster victims.
Her mother had assisted him, founding and running the Boseongwon, a shelter for orphans.
She had broad insight and boldness, unlike the typical housewives who stayed in the inner quarters.
Rather than spoil her precious daughter, she raised Yeongwon strictly, fearing she might grow arrogant.
— Yeongwon, look at these flower shoes. I hid them from your mother so you can wear them on Dano Day.
— My lord, do you know how many pairs of flower shoes Yeongwon already has? You bought more? She has more unworn shoes than ones she wears. Why do you keep encouraging wastefulness?
— Haha! My dear wife, these aren’t just any shoes. You know Master Kim, the great shoemaker? He made them himself. And did you think I bought only for Yeongwon? These are yours.
On a warm spring day, that gentle scene under the elegant eaves drifted faintly across Yeongwon’s mind.
A sour ache surged up from deep inside her chest.
Her lips trembled as she swallowed the longing that grew sharper each day.
Once, she had believed those sunlit, flower-scented days would continue forever.
But those beautiful days—bright as spring and lovely as blossoms—would never return.
Who could have done such a thing? And why?
Was it greed for the vast wealth the Ha family had accumulated?
But Hansung had plenty of rich merchant families—why the Ha family?
In a city full of officials, even Wi Jeongmun—who held a mere ninth-rank office too low to hang a signboard—had clearly taken part in the tragedy.
And he was her mother’s own brother by blood!
Yeongwon’s eyes flushed red.
Her resentment was unbearable, and fury at her own helplessness gnawed at her.
It pained her that she had sensed nothing of the dark currents swirling around her father and the merchant guild.
She tried to press down the fury rising through her teeth, but a small sob escaped.
Perhaps, as Sorae once said, her parents might have wished only for her to live peacefully, without storms.
But Yeongwon could not swallow the searing grief and rage that clotted in her heart like blood.
How could she live calmly while holding such a burden?
No—she had to see this through.
To her very last breath.
“Jejado?”
Ishin opened his half-lidded eyes.
He sat cross-legged on a rock, head resting languidly on one hand—his expression rather drowsy.
“Yes. She said she was looking for Jejado.”
“Anything else?”
The raggedly dressed guino (ghost servant) before him fell silent for a moment, recalling what he’d heard.
“She said, ‘Will we be safe before we reach Jejado?’ That’s all I heard before returning.”
Ishin narrowed his eyes.
The beggar’s destination didn’t matter to him.
What bothered him was how she managed to stand unharmed within the fog created by hundreds—no, thousands—of ghosts.
“She’s in a cave three li from here. Would you like to go see?”
The guino who had tracked the beggar returned and asked carefully, watching Ishin’s expression.
Ishin gave a small wave of his hand—no.
At that, the guino scattered like mist, disappearing one by one across the mountain.
Left alone, Ishin recalled the beggar.
Despite the filthy rags and tangled hair, he had known instantly she was a woman.
Her slender frame, small height, posture, gait—and the startled cry she let out, soft and clear.
And the delicate features: almond-round eyes, a small refined nose, full lips.
No amount of dirt could hide that she was a beauty.
What is that girl?
Gazing in the direction the guino had pointed, Ishin lifted his eyes to the sky.
Dawn was breaking, pushing back the darkness.
His deliberation was brief.
Annoying, yes—but she was just a tiny minnow.
Whether she swam upstream or not made no difference.
If she was already seeking Jejado, she would reach it on her own.
And if she was too foolish and collapsed on the way, that too didn’t matter.
Let her come if she can.
Stretching his long legs and stepping down from the rock, Ishin turned without hesitation and headed toward Jejado.
