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Chapter 04
That’s a sneer that looks down on An An-yong.
So what?
With that level of genius inside and out, it would probably be harder not to look down on people.
I could feel my gaze growing hotter, and Mu Seon-hu frowned openly and turned his face away.
Mu Seon-hu, I’d love to stand in front of you holding a stopwatch over an English CSAT exam paper.
Watching your eyes race diagonally across a giant test sheet.
How many minutes would it take you to put your pen down?
The reading section alone takes about 45 minutes excluding listening.
My academy’s fastest student did it in 25.
Someone like Mu Seon-hu… maybe under 20 minutes?
I have a “brainy man syndrome”—an uncontrollable attraction to intelligent people. Probably a side effect of years teaching CSAT English.
My eyes habitually traced his pale forehead and red lips.
Luckily, everyone was eating with their heads down.
Good. Because my face was definitely burning.
Sensing something odd between us, Mu I-hu lifted his head and glanced between us.
The moment our eyes met—
A rank appeared.
Grade 4.
High, considering his age and position, but clearly far below Mu Seon-hu.
Dinner ended quickly after that. Fruit was served, and the elders left first.
“Cousin-in-law, you worked hard. Please sit and eat,” Mu I-hu said kindly.
“Yes, brother-in-law.”
I sat immediately and picked up my chopsticks.
I could feel sharp gazes from Jang Yang-ran and Mu Seon-hu, but I ignored them and ate.
“The food must be cold. Shall I have it reheated?” Mu I-hu asked.
“It’s fine. It’s excellent as it is.”
In my past life, I had barely time to eat properly. Ten-minute breaks meant shoving down a roll of kimbap and running back to class.
Compared to that, this world felt like a drama playing at 0.8x speed. A little chaotic, a little slow—but manageable.
I finished every bite with satisfaction.
“You’ve adapted quickly to our humble meals,” Mu I-hu commented.
Jang Yang-ran immediately shot back.
“Isn’t it because she eats a nine-course meal every day in her separate quarters? Isn’t that right, Seon-hu?”
“Yes, sister-in-law.”
Mu Seon-hu’s voice was low and smooth—but irritatingly sharp.
Excuse me? You’re siding with her now?
Jang Yang-ran continued, sharpening her tone.
“I heard your cousin failed the civil exam again. How old is he now? Fourteen? Fifteen?”
“Thirty,” I replied flatly after swallowing.
Silence.
In this country, there were three levels of civil exams. The county-level exam was usually attempted before age fifteen, and passed in the early twenties. After that, most people gave up.
So at thirty, he was essentially out of the race.
“How shocking,” she said, pretending to be innocent.
And yet no one doubted her performance.
Even Mu Seon-hu and Mu I-hu nodded seriously.
These men were academically competent—but socially… hopeless.
Then she continued pressing.
“I heard your family hasn’t produced a single civil exam pass in five generations. That’s unfortunate.”
“Don’t worry,” I replied sweetly. “We eat well. Nine-course meals every day.”
Mu I-hu tried to defuse it.
“Everyone has their own path.”
How nice. If I could, I’d hire him as a private tutor.
Smart, good-looking, reliable. A Grade 4 asset at least.
But before I could evaluate further, Jang Yang-ran stood up first, clearly annoyed. Mu I-hu followed. Soon, only Mu Seon-hu and I remained.
Finally alone.
I happily finished my soup.
Then—
“Why did you take those books?” Mu Seon-hu asked coldly.
“Oh. I was planning to study.”
I answered evenly.
“Are you mocking me?”
“Why would you think that?”
“What did you do last month when I offered to teach you?”
Want me to pretend I don’t remember? Convenient.
“I don’t recall,” I said lightly.
“You tore apart valuable books. Do you know how expensive they are?”
“I wasn’t trying to study them. I just needed to learn letters.”
“Then why did you say you didn’t need learning? That you lived fine without letters?”
“People change their minds.”
“Barely half a month has passed.”
“So what? Thoughts can change in a moment.”
“Are you trying to provoke me?”
“That time, I didn’t know. But now I do.”
He paused.
“Then you want to learn?”
“Why are you suddenly trying to teach me?”
“Do you really want to hear the reason again?”
“Yes.”
His dark green eyes shifted slightly.
“You once got angry because you thought ‘self-righteousness’ meant ‘poison was added.’”
An An-yong did that?
…Cute.
Honestly, misunderstanding one word won’t end the world. It’s not even the CSAT Korean exam.
“So what? Isn’t it more childish to keep bringing it up?”
“I see no intention of reflection.”
He stood abruptly, flicked his sleeve, and left the room.
The door swung open and closed behind him.
I stared at it blankly.
Did I say something that strange?
It was surprisingly easy to anger men in this era.
Maybe honesty was not allowed here.
The Next Morning
At dawn, I washed quickly and went to the main hall.
Mu Seon-hu was already waiting at the gate.
Under the blue dawn light, he looked different—calmer, more distant.
We avoided each other’s eyes and walked in separately, like a couple actively trying to look like strangers.
“Father, Mother, did you sleep well?” Mu Seon-hu asked.
“We did,” the mother-in-law replied. “Did you?”
“Yes. My brother left early for work.”
“You should eat here with us,” she suggested.
But Mu Seon-hu politely declined.
“I have matters to attend to.”
Her voice softened with disappointment.
And then—
A rank popped up in my mind.
Grade 4.
What?!
Even the mother-in-law?
If she were a man, she would’ve been a high-ranking official by now.
So she had been suppressing herself just because she was a woman?
For a moment, I understood her in a strange way.
As we left, I couldn’t stop yawning.
Morning routines were destroying me.
“I should go back to sleep,” I muttered, walking away without waiting for his response.
A Few Days Later
Spring sunlight grew stronger.
Then my natal family sent for me again.
Something urgent.
I boarded the carriage half-asleep.
I had adapted to this life—morning greetings, dinner service, routine survival.
Mu Seon-hu hadn’t spoken to me since that day.
And honestly, my determination to fix things had started to fade too.
For now, I’d just remember one thing:
He is my husband.
A labeled asset.
A registered trademark.
When I arrived at the An household, I noticed something strange.
My father, my five younger brothers—and several others—were sitting inside.
The atmosphere was heavy.
Like a funeral.
