chapter 39
This ridiculous incident only grew bigger as time passed.
It all started with a letter that arrived at our household.
Inside, it detailed—at great length—how Saraon had bullied other children. But there was no sender’s name.
Normally, we would have thrown out an unsigned letter, but Aunt’s sharp instincts kicked in.
Something about it felt strange, so she summoned a few of the branch family kids to ask around about Saraon—and their stories lined up perfectly with what the letter said.
So, she pushed for an investigation at the academy. And the result? Something enormous came to light.
Turns out, Saraon had bullied several students so severely that they quit school.
Because most noble children only attended classes twice a week, they hadn’t noticed what was going on—and Brother Sion was one of them.
And that guy—he was the classic type who bullies the weak and flatters the strong.
In front of well-born kids, he’d pretend to be kind and courteous, but behind their backs he quietly tormented the poorer or weaker ones, making sure no one noticed.
When Saraon grew close to the children from noble families, the victims became even more powerless.
Some mustered up courage to tell the teachers, but no one believed them. That was because Saraon, in front of adults, would always suppress his temper and act with perfect manners.
In the end, when one of the victims tried to make the issue public, that child was made an example of—and the others all ended up quitting the academy together.
Once the truth surfaced, all hell broke loose.
Parents sent petitions asking how they could possibly trust the academy with their children. Teachers were criticized for failing to protect their students.
The academy publicly promised to reform itself, but the damage to its reputation was already done. Many parents were already pulling their children out.
Amid all this, Brother Sion’s punishment was decided.
Five pages of written reflection and two weeks of probation.
A penalty handed down on the principle that “violence is wrong no matter what.”
“Are you okay?”
“Hm?”
I went to see Brother Sion. He’d fought because of me and even got punished for it—I couldn’t help feeling awful.
And just look at his face.
The bruises had become even more colorful with time, stabbing at my conscience every time I saw them.
“I’m sorry… because of me, you—”
“What do you have to be sorry for? Honestly, I’m surprised the punishment was that light.”
“Huh?”
“Well… I, uh, maybe… kinda… hm.”
“Hyung turned Saraon’s face into rice cake.”
When Sion hesitated, Brother Seon revealed the truth for him.
Rice cake?
My eyes went round. Seon clenched his fist and mimed punching his own face—right cheek, nose, chin, left cheek—smack, smack, smack.
Oh, my goodness.
Our cousin must have really gone to town on him.
Without realizing it, I looked at Sion’s hands. His knuckles were scraped. And his hands—big, solid, stone-hard—were worthy of the heir of a warrior family.
“Wow…”
Good thing Saraon was from the lion clan and built tough.
Otherwise, Brother Sion might have ended up in prison for attempted murder instead of sitting warm at home in reflection.
***
The overheated situation began to calm down when the Sa family themselves stepped forward.
They personally visited each of the victims to apologize—and yes, Saraon knelt down too.
Considering how arrogant he’d been before, no one thought he’d ever bow his head. Everyone who saw it was shocked.
The Sa family also compensated the victims financially.
They even sold off parts of their estate to pay restitution—so much that people whispered their house might go bankrupt.
Because of that, the dark mood in Seolgokdo finally started to ease.
Some even said the family’s reputation had improved.
“Sincere apology and full compensation—now that’s how you handle things,” people said.
As for the academy, realizing it might collapse if it didn’t act fast, they played their trump card.
“They hired an external auditor who used to be a judge?”
“Not just one—three of them,” Father said, raising three fingers.
“They lost trust inside, so they’re bringing in trust from outside.”
And thus, the academy began its forced reform.
The teacher who had ignored a victim’s plea apologized in person and was disciplined. The headmaster personally oversaw the retraining to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.
They also reached out to the students who had dropped out, apologized again, and even offered scholarships to help them return. They provided support to help them readjust—and most importantly, they ensured all the bullies were separated from them.
Because Saraon had submitted a withdrawal letter along with a lengthy apology.
“He resigned before they could expel him.”
“That’s sneaky.”
“Right?”
Here, just like in my past life, being expelled from one academy made it nearly impossible to get into another—it was a permanent mark on your record.
But withdrawal? That barely left a trace. Once things quieted down, he could just slip into another school somewhere else.
So this whole mess that started in mid-September was finally resolved—somewhat—by early October.
“How is it?”
“Hm.”
“Did it grow?”
“Uhh…”
The problem was me.
Standing flush against the growth-mark pillar, I waited while Father squinted and carefully drew a new line.
Then—
“I didn’t grow at all!”
I hadn’t grown a single bit.
***
Something was wrong. Considering how strong Saraon’s stench of malice had been, I should’ve grown at least half a notch.
But nothing? That could only mean one thing—this wasn’t truly over.
“Should he have been thrown in jail?”
“He’s too young for that,” Mother said.
True—though big for his age, Saraon was only fourteen. Too young to be imprisoned.
So there was just one possible explanation.
“That boy hasn’t received proper punishment. He hasn’t reflected at all,” Mother concluded.
She was right.
The purpose of punishment is to make the sinner realize their wrongdoing and repent. Only then can true reflection happen.
And once someone sincerely repents, even an evil person’s stench starts to fade.
Of course, some people never change.
And in those cases, what can you do?
They must keep facing punishment—until they do.
But Saraon had neatly dodged all consequences. His apologies to the victims weren’t sincere, and he withdrew before the academy could formally punish him.
He hadn’t suffered any real loss—the restitution came from his family’s coffers, not his own.
And to make it worse, the family’s reputation actually improved because of their generous apology.
It left me fuming.
It felt like there was a pile of poop in our front yard!
I raged and stomped until Mother gently patted my back. But my anger—like a raging beast—refused to calm.
“He didn’t even apologize to me!”
Because he really hadn’t! That jerk never once said sorry to me!
I finally calmed down when Father returned with the coat So Baeksan had forgotten last time.
Father wrapped me up in it, his expression gloomy. I buried my nose in the coat, sniffing my fiancé’s scent, and finally relaxed.
“My daughter, doesn’t Daddy’s scent comfort you too?”
“I love yours and Mom’s, but So Baeksan’s smell makes my nose feel all clean.”
“Uh-huh. So you really like that Baeksan fellow…”
“Shouldn’t you give up by now?” Mother teased.
Father slumped his shoulders.
“Feels like the daughter I raised from the size of my palm got stolen by a tiger.”
“I disagree,” Mother said, pulling him close. Father’s tall, graceful body folded gently into her arms.
“Our baby didn’t get stolen by a tiger—she stole that tiger herself. Just like I stole you.”
“…!”
I immediately transformed into a little puppy and crawled deep into my fiancé’s coat.
Dark, quiet, and safe—that was just how I liked it.
At age seven, I was already an expert at dodging my parents’ lovey-dovey moments.
***
They say if you talk about someone, they show up.
Sure enough, the very next day after my outburst, a letter of apology arrived from the Sa family addressed to me.
It read:
“We apologize for the delay in sending this letter. Pain is pain—no matter the degree. We have been making amends one by one, from the earliest victims onward, to ensure nothing is overlooked.
We also apologize for Saraon’s remark about breaking off the engagement. It seems he spoke rashly after becoming infatuated at first sight with Lady Hyun of your house…”
As I read the dense letter, Uncle frowned. Beside him stood Brother Sion, whose bruises had nearly faded. On the table were two letters—the one I received and another addressed to him.
A glance told me they were nearly identical.
“Slippery little eel,” Uncle muttered coldly.
Sion hesitated, then began reading my letter aloud. Mother, meanwhile, read Sion’s letter that Uncle handed her.
(Father couldn’t attend—he was out at Ilwolgak for the harvest season.)
“This sounds fake,” Sion said finally, frowning. The resemblance between his expression and Uncle’s was uncanny—it sent a chill through the room.
“‘Infatuated at first sight’? Yeah right. That bastard—”
“Watch your language.”
“That jerk—”
“Still not good.”
“…Anyway, he didn’t like Hyeon because of that.”
“I know,” Uncle said curtly, returning my letter.
“No one underage says they’re breaking off an engagement so casually. Some adult in that house must’ve pushed him.”
“That’s not it,” Sion replied firmly.
“Saraon already has three girlfriends, Father.”
“…Three what?”
“That’s what he said himself. That lions naturally have multiple mates. That he’d follow our country’s monogamy laws for marriage but still keep multiple lovers.”
Uncle and Mother’s eyes widened.
Mine too.
But Sion’s expression stayed calm.
“Why do you think I hit him? The guy’s already tangled with multiple girls, and then he goes after my little sister too? And ‘love at first sight’? Please. His type is older women.”
“Then why didn’t you say so at the academy?” Uncle asked stiffly.
Sion shrugged, as if the answer were obvious.
“If I said that, what would happen to those girls? Their names would get out and they’d suffer for it.”
“…”
Well… that was true.
I barely managed to keep my head together, thinking once again that bad people never stop at just one bad deed.
Unfortunately, the Sa family’s antics didn’t end there. Along with the apology, they also sent an invitation.
Apparently encouraged by their improved reputation, they were planning a grand event—a banquet and exhibition to showcase their trade goods.
And thus arose the question:
Do we go… or not?
A full family meeting was convened to decide.
