chapter 14
For a moment, I saw Grandma’s face on Dad’s.
It meant he was scared.
Even at twenty-seven, that bright, refreshing face could become as cold as frost. I could only be amazed.
“Ah, my daughter.”
But as soon as Dad’s eyes met mine, he acted as if nothing had happened and pouted slightly, almost whining.
“I can’t go a moment without seeing my beautiful daughter. It’ll be hard to see your face for a while—my heart might tear apart.”
“Do thorns really grow in your mouth?”
“Yes. I think a few have already sprouted.”
I thought he was joking—but he wasn’t. In fact, he had stomatitis!
Our Dad was handsome, smart, and strong, but otherwise, he was a Haetae!
“Ugh.”
Mom, apparently startled too, grabbed Dad by the chin.
With Mom’s strong hands squeezing, Dad’s mouth opened wider, revealing the reddened inside.
“Is work very hard?”
Mom clicked her tongue lightly and asked as she let go. Dad obediently rested his face against her hand and replied, pressing it to his cheek.
“It’s hard to check everything because there’s so much. But enduring it while wanting to see you and Hyeon is even harder.”
“Couldn’t you hire more people?”
“Even if we had the money, there’s no one available. Everyone’s busy with the harvest.”
At the peak of autumn harvest, finding workers was like catching stars from the sky. Sure, raising the wage and asking around could help, but there was a catch:
“There aren’t many people I can trust.”
If you add the requirement of a reliable, verified identity, there were hardly any talents safe to employ.
“Hmm.”
Mom, listening quietly, took out the hairpin Dad had neatly placed.
When some slightly tangled hair fell out, Mom laid Dad on her lap. Then she placed me on her other knee.
Dad, accidentally getting a lap pillow, relaxed his wrinkled face.
“You’ve worked hard.”
“Mm.”
“I’ll help from now on.”
“Mm… what?”
Dad’s eyes, just half-closed in fatigue, shot open, startling me. I looked up at Mom.
“You?”
“Yes.”
Mom had been focusing solely on childcare and education to protect me as a Haetae. And now she was saying she would break this unintended isolation.
Of course, Mom hadn’t been entirely secluded all this time.
On Dad’s days off, she went to the mountains, leaving me with him. She roamed the rugged terrain to keep her hunting skills sharp, gathering meat or rare herbs for me.
When she caught large deer or wild boar, she shared some with neighbors.
Also, the animal hides Mom hunted were mostly unblemished, making them very popular. In auctions, they were worth every penny.
But the best always went to me.
Thanks to that, I had warm winter gear—scarves, gloves, shoes—made from leather and fur without ever lacking.
Next, Dad got the benefits.
Last year, Mom caught a fox with vibrant red fur and made a hat and scarf for Dad. It looked magnificent.
Some visitors even asked if Dad had a bride yet, only to be disappointed when they found out he had a wolf wife and an adorable puppy daughter.
Anyway, it was amazing that Mom, who had spent years focused on my upbringing and hunting, was now joining the family business.
“Our tribe is good with numbers.”
“They even say don’t cheat the gray wolves on price.”
“Ha ha. Many assumed we didn’t know the world because we lived in snowy mountains.”
Since merchants tried to lowball their prices so often, Mom’s tribe learned arithmetic from a young age. To become independent hunters, you had to pass a calculation test and know the current leather market prices.
“But what I do best is move stealthily and check on enemies. Isn’t that what you need?”
“Honey…!”
Hmm, I needed to get out of the way.
I, the perceptive little dog, slipped off Mom’s lap. Dad grabbed me, planted a kiss on one cheek until it scrunched up, while Mom kissed the other.
These kiss fiends!
This time I pounced and kissed both Mom and Dad back.
Laughter rang through the annex.
Mom was gone for three days, secretly checking the grain count in the fields. I spent that time with Dad at Ilwolgak, and the people working with him each held me once to recharge their energy.
“How calm and well-behaved! At this age, kids usually break at least one chair leg.”
“Look at those bright eyes. All the precious gems in the world are here.”
“I can work hard just to earn snacks for you…”
“Something’s wrong with this child. Quickly, hide Hyeon.”
Aside from people acting strange from overwork, going to Ilwolgak was fun. My allowance grew steadily.
Best of all, the people at Ilwolgak insisted Dad return home after handing over work, saying I couldn’t sleep alone.
Yes. Dad could work from home!
Though he still worked overtime, just being at home made him visibly better.
After Mom returned from her three-day mission, she handed the manually recorded grain counts to Dad.
“Oh my.”
“Is it very different?”
“Yes.”
Mom’s actual count was higher than the ledger, meaning someone manipulated the records and stole sacks along the way.
“Originally, the middle manager counted the sacks to prevent this.”
Dad rested his chin and stared at the ledger.
Tap. Tap.
His fingers tapped the table more firmly.
“But during the recent cart accident, several workers got hurt and couldn’t work. Right here. In the spot where the count is missing.”
Dad pointed on the ledger and a small map. The location was a half-day’s walk from the village where Mom walked in human form.
The village was called Jangmi (Long Tail).
It was named for the dog clan there, whose tails were longer than other clans.
“Some other places have minor discrepancies, but none as bad as here.”
“Can’t you just find the thief?”
“That’s tricky.”
Dad sighed.
“Jangmi Village is a tourist spot, fairly large. Many distant relatives live there, and many are connected to our family.”
“So it’s hard to pinpoint the culprit.”
“Right. Whether it’s one person secretly stealing or several conspiring, whether they’re family or not… there’s a lot to consider.”
I patted his arm, feeling he was suffering too much.
“I’ll help too.”
“No, my daughter. Just having you is enough for me.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
Well, then.
“Ah! Hyeon’s out today too?”
“Today’s the last day.”
I cheerfully went to Ilwolgak in Dad’s arms. Mom had packed me in a padded vest and hat because it was cold. Surprisingly, others seemed happier about it than Dad.
“I heard the Jangmi Village representative is coming today.”
Jangmi Village?
While greeting the people holding my hand as if by ritual, Dad identified a candidate grain thief.
“Oh, that person? They broke a leg when the cart overturned, but seem better now. Not limping much. Luckily.”
“Ah, I see.”
Dad’s smile turned subtly cold.
“I expected them to come late, but they arrived early and are in the reception room.”
“I’ll attend to them.”
“Euchongwan?”
“Everyone’s busy. Please take care of Hyeon until then.”
“Euchongwan…!”
While everyone else happily held me, the Vice Commander alone looked puzzled, as if thinking, What is that human planning?
“Yes. I’ll take care of it.”
“Of course.”
Later, Dad emerged from the reception room, his expression oddly hesitant, as if a probe had failed.
I politely asked people to let me down and stepped onto the floor. I waddled toward Dad, but suddenly my nose tickled.
Sniff.
It wasn’t a sign of transformation.
I tilted my head, took another step—and froze.
“Eh, eh…!”
“Hyeon?”
Someone else emerged from the reception room—probably the Jangmi Village representative.
But that wasn’t the point.
Ah-choo!
A pungent smell made me sneeze, and Dad turned pale.
“Hyeon!”
“Ah-choo! Ah-choo! It’s not a cold, ah-choo!”
Like chili or pepper, the sharp, foul smell wouldn’t stop me from sneezing. I tapped Dad’s shoulder to prevent him from rushing to the family physician.
My nose was okay.
But my nerves were on high alert.
Among the crowd at Ilwolgak, one person was steadily being pushed aside.
I stared at him like a hunter spotting prey.
Until he moved far away.
I returned home in Dad’s arms. Mom placed her hand on my forehead and the back of my neck.
“No fever. How’s your neck, my baby?”
“It doesn’t hurt. Not a cold.”
I shook my head, insisting I was fine.
Yet there was something unusual.
I described my sneezing experience in detail. Mom and Dad’s eyes went wide.
“Baby, were you really worried about that person?”
“Yes. The smell was strange, and the feeling was… off.”
I knew I shouldn’t describe a person this way, but he reminded me of a dustball roaming inside a house.
Why was it there?
Normally, seeing a dustball, you’d wonder, Why is this here? Then think, If I touch it, it’ll be dirty and unpleasant.
That person was exactly like that.
“I know it’s not trash, but still…”
I said stubbornly, watching their reactions.
“Cleaning dirt makes the house tidy.”
I explained I wanted to remove it, and Mom and Dad sighed. I realized why I felt that way and let out a similar huh.
“Yeryeom. That must be it, right?”
“Yes.”
Mom nodded to Dad’s question.
“It seems our Haetae daughter smelled the presence of an evildoer.”
Mom was right.
Haetae detect villains this way.
But on the other hand, I thought: perhaps Haetae aren’t righteous heroes defeating villains—they just act because of the stench.
