Chapter 19: The Butler’s Fierce Side
“Seohyo, take the cup!”
“Foolish. It’s Ahui’s turn this time.”
“Hey, did someone see my belt?”
“We’re out of liquor!”
Seohyo stood up and stacked the empty bowls she was holding. She slipped out of the chaos and headed for the kitchen.
It was a scene of absolute madness, with twenty-some people running around in every direction.
Even with the host absent from the main room, no one noticed.
The kitchen was a battlefield.
The enemies were the guests—hungry, ravenous, and endless in their demands for food and drink. The two cauldrons blazed like infernos, cooking grilled dishes, stir-fries, and soups to satisfy them.
The only soldier on this front was Cha-eon.
Even when performing the hardest chores at home, he usually maintained his elegant posture, buttoned-up coat perfectly fastened.
Now, however, he had undone the buttons to his chest.
His sleeves were rolled up mercilessly as he washed dishes, strands of sweat-dampened hair sticking to his orderly forehead.
“Hello, Cha-eon.”
“…Yes.”
“I’m here.”
“Yes.”
It was almost unbelievable that they were in the same house. It wasn’t that the house was palace-sized—there simply hadn’t been time for them to properly speak.
The master and her butler were reunited in a single instant.
Cha-eon’s gaze fell on the bowls Seohyo had brought. He didn’t even sigh anymore. Seohyo took a nearby brush and started scrubbing beside him.
And she didn’t glance at the muscles newly revealed by his undone collar. She must have been exhausted.
But Cha-eon must have been even more tired.
Seohyo glanced at him and spoke softly.
“I’m sorry, Cha-eon. I should have sent the guests away, even if I had to use the excuse that I wasn’t feeling well.”
It was the third day dealing with Ahui’s group.
Seohyo was completely drained.
She had spent the entire evening tidying up empty dishes, guiding unsteady guests to the bathroom or their rooms, and helping with the kitchen work.
The guests were active from evening until roughly one hour past dawn.
It was the peak of the night festival.
She sent those who wanted rest to their rooms. The mess would return in a few hours, but she couldn’t leave bottles strewn across the floor.
After haphazardly tidying up, she collapsed onto a pillow, immediately drifting off as if unconscious.
Her body ached, but she didn’t dare fully succumb—Cha-eon was there.
How exhausted he must be.
How tempting it must be to overturn the tables and throw them all out.
Seohyo was simply grateful that he hadn’t.
Clatter.
He picked up a bowl coated with pork fat and spoke.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Miss. I’ve observed you enough to know that, even if you weren’t feeling well, you wouldn’t have turned the guests away at the door.”
There was more force than necessary in his scrubbing.
“You are a kind person.”
He scrubbed and scrubbed at the bowl, as if determined to erase the blue patterns. Just a bit harder, and it could have broken in two.
“J-just saying that is enough…”
“I am not the one who is angry, Miss.”
Cha-eon said this with a gentle smile.
Hearing such words with that expression made them all the more intimidating.
“The problem lies with those shameless fools. They left the storeroom in a mess and didn’t even pay for their trouble. Yet they were lucky enough to wed the goddess of fortune. Two shameless people meeting each other, a perfect match.”
His calm, deep voice even disparaged Ahui’s absent husband. Seohyo peeked at the courtyard, wondering if anyone else had overheard.
Laughter burst out like fireworks from the yard.
Her worry was needless.
“When they leave, Cha-eon, take a proper rest. Don’t cook or do laundry for a while.”
“And if I rest, who will take care of things? You, Miss? I can’t allow that.”
Seohyo expected him to be pleased at the suggestion of rest, to grin and say something like, Finally growing up, paying for your usual laziness.
His words surprised her.
“Knock, knock, Seohyo?”
Just then, Ahui appeared, making a knocking sound with her mouth. Her cheeks were flushed, as if painted with rouge from the alcohol.
“Have you seen Jungdal? He put on some extra clothes and left the room, but he’s nowhere to be found.”
Ahui hesitated, trying to picture his appearance in her mind, then described him: large, shaggy hair like a lion’s mane, round earrings in both ears.
“Oh… I see,” Seohyo said. He was big and strong, but simple-minded.
“I haven’t seen him either.”
“Really? Where could he be… Maybe passed out outside?”
She asked out of curiosity, not worry. Jungdal was too large for even two men to carry easily. Seohyo didn’t feel the need to search immediately.
Ahui returned to her games.
Seohyo realized, surprisingly, that Cha-eon had been silent all this time.
Even trapped in the kitchen all evening, he was fully aware of the situation outside.
He had memorized all twenty-five names of the guests that first day and noticed that more than half the group had changed compared to fifty years ago.
Even a brief glance at the yard told him who was doing what and where.
Why hadn’t he said a word?
Seohyo’s gaze briefly landed on the back of his hand.
A red scratch caught her attention.
Cha-eon never injured himself with knives. Seohyo could vouch for that with all her precious medicine jars.
Then how had he gotten hurt?
His hand had been fine earlier that day.
“Cha-eon, are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing.”
He dismissed her concern lightly.
The sound of scrubbing continued for a while.
Once the dishes on one side were clean, he spoke as if he had just remembered something.
“Later, have Ahui check the second floor of the apothecary. I think I saw Jungdal up there.”
Seohyo raised her eyebrows.
“The second floor? Why…? And why tell me only now?”
“I just remembered.”
A lie.
Seohyo forced herself not to glare at him.
Why had Jungdal gone to the second floor, where no one ever checked or cared to go? Even those drunk and unsteady were sprawled in the courtyard or at the doorway. Why climb the stairs to a barely visible spot?
Seohyo checked Cha-eon’s hand again.
The scratch… perhaps a hard bite?
“You didn’t hit him, did you?”
She set down her brush and dishes.
“Knocked him out? Drew blood? If he hasn’t returned yet… Cha-eon, surely you didn’t…”
Her eyes widened.
“You didn’t kill him, right?”
Cha-eon said nothing.
Her mind went blank.
“Right? He’s just unconscious… I can’t… Cha-eon, you mustn’t hit the guests! I have to go see.”
As Seohyo rushed toward the kitchen door, he grabbed her waist in an instant, pulling her close. She was pressed against his side before she could react.
“That one…”
Cha-eon spoke without loosening his hold.
“Muttering about the cold, he went into your room, draped himself in your pajamas, and came out.”
Already loud and rude, he murmured, disgusted.
“When I told him nicely to let go and go to the main room, he rubbed his face, saying it smelled nice and was cozy.”
Seohyo felt his strength in his arms tighten around her waist.
“He was drunk and not in his right mind, but that doesn’t lessen his wrongdoing.”
“So… you took him somewhere no one could see and punished him?”
“One must be disciplined,” he said matter-of-factly.
He added that he burned the pajama covered in filth. Seohyo opened her mouth, unsure how to respond, as he continued washing a large tray with one hand.
“It’s terrible to serve shameless people, but worse if it tarnishes your reputation. They are a lively group, loved by humans. If I let them act as they wish, all the bad reputation would fall on you.”
The dishes, miraculously clean, were stacked neatly.
“And you would have been caught between them, trying to soothe both sides. The thought alone is unpleasant.”
Cha-eon finally released her. Seohyo could breathe freely.
She felt his warmth even through layers of clothing—it made her heart race.
“But the pajamas went too far. I had to intervene immediately. Luckily, he wasn’t holding anything else.”
Seohyo remembered the near miss with Cha-eon’s lips and shuddered. Now, she was to pass liquor mouth-to-mouth with one of Ahui’s friends.
‘You’re too lewd!’ she thought, shaking her head.
It was the fourth day since they had been fighting on the frontlines.
Even the apothecary-turned-hell saw a glimmer of hope: Ahui’s group had announced they would leave in three days.
They planned to hurry to enjoy the harvest festival in a neighboring country.
Seohyo had suggested leaving earlier, but Ahui smiled and said it was fine.
‘It’s not fine for me,’ Seohyo thought, swallowing her words.
Still, it was good news. Previously, Ahui’s group had stayed ten days—this time it was shorter.
Her heart felt a little lighter.
Three hours later.
Seohyo cursed herself for relaxing too soon. She shouldn’t let her guard down until everything was over.
The evening’s festivities began as usual.
Seohyo planned to join in briefly, then retreat to the main room. The cooking slowed down as everyone focused on the games.
The kitchen could wait.
As she rose, ready to leave, someone caught her ankle.
“Seohyo, where are you going?”
A loud voice. Everyone’s attention fell on her. She froze halfway up.
“To the restroom.”
“You haven’t touched the food, only drank three cups.”
The group had assumed she was leaving unnoticed.
“What a disaster!”
“So rude of us!”
Everyone apologized profusely, misunderstanding the situation.
“I’m really just going to the restroom.”
“Seohyo, so kind.”
“She cares for the creatures, she’s different.”
“If it were our Ahui, she would have changed the game immediately.”
Ahui returned, smiling as she took the seat of honor.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, Ahui! Our delightful Ahui.”
“Seohyo was leaving because she wasn’t enjoying herself.”
“What?”
Ahui stared at Seohyo as if nothing could be worse. Both the host and her subordinates were shocked that Seohyo wasn’t having fun.
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.”
The restroom excuse had failed.
Seohyo tried saying she would just change clothes, but one of Ahui’s subordinates rushed to her room. The excuse of checking the kitchen also failed.
Ahui’s group no longer believed a word Seohyo said.
The more she explained, the more their misconceptions solidified.
“Let’s spin the barrel!”
Ahui, looking devastated, suggested it. Everyone applauded.
The game involved spinning a wooden barrel and following instructions on the cards that fell outside. Rewards and punishments varied.
If someone refused, they faced a drinking penalty.
Seohyo, who wasn’t good at drinking and couldn’t pick a good card, hesitated.
The proposer didn’t care and called for the barrel.
It was a game of chance, simple enough even for beginners.
“Here comes the barrel!”
The rough voice announced the start. Cheers erupted. The proposer spun the barrel first.
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
Long wooden cards tumbled inside.
Ahui, blindfolded, spun in place twenty times and had to walk straight. Unsurprisingly, she staggered and fell. Everyone laughed.
The comic seated next to Ahui had to borrow money from the scariest person. Everyone looked toward the kitchen.
“I can’t do it. This punishment is too harsh,” he protested, downing the drink.
Next was Seohyo’s turn.
She decided to play once and then leave. Once everyone was caught up in the fun, they wouldn’t pay attention to her.
She didn’t need a good card—just not the worst.
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
“Fell!”
The comic picked up the card, hiding it in his sleeves like a secret letter, smiling as if it were delightful.
“Tell us! Show us!”
“What card did Seohyo draw?”
“…Haha, this is interesting.”
The comic shook the card toward the group.
“It never fell when we spun the barrel the night before. Everyone added their cards, but mine didn’t come out. Now, it shines in Seohyo’s hand.”
He read the card content aloud, genuinely delighted.
“It’s a lively game. The liquor passes from mouth to mouth!”
“…Huh?”
“In the south, they call it ‘flower-lips meeting flower-lips,’ a fine name indeed.”
Seohyo had never kissed anyone in this way.
“I’ll take the punishment drink!”
She decided it was better to drink the awful liquor than to pass it mouth-to-mouth with someone she didn’t know.
The memory of almost touching lips with Cha-eon flashed in her mind. Now, she was to do it with a friend of Ahui’s…
And it wasn’t just a kiss—it was passing liquor mouth-to-mouth.
‘You’re way too perverted,’ she thought, shaking her head firmly.
