Chapter 2
Moyong Sehwi let out a quiet sigh as he looked at the small silk bundle Madam Gyu-hwa had handed him.
Even though he had firmly refused, she had stubbornly forced the gift into his hands. It was more irritating than he cared to admit.
“Something to do with the Yang Clan Escort Agency, perhaps.”
In her words, he was nothing more than a “lowly thing”—no more and no less. There was no way she would give him something like this out of genuine goodwill.
Yet whenever there was profit to be gained, she did not hesitate to personally seek out this same “lowly thing” and exchange pleasantries.
She constantly emphasized that she was the legitimate daughter of the Shandong Yue Clan, a family with connections to the military, and behaved as though she were a woman of refined nobility—while the things she did behind the scenes were anything but reasonable.
The thought alone made his skin crawl.
Shaking his head, Sehwi decided that the next person who tried to strike up a conversation with him would receive this bundle as a gift.
Smack!
At that moment, a loud sound rang out. Sehwi turned toward where the noise had come from and walked in that direction.
“Ahhh! Stop! Please stop!”
“No! I can’t let it happen like this again. This is impossible!”
Two maids were struggling with each other. One girl, her clothes soaked with water, was slapping her own cheeks over and over again. Another maid clung to her arm, desperately trying to stop her.
Her face had already turned red from the handprints. To strike one’s own face like that…
She must have lost her mind.
Shaking his head again, Sehwi quickened his pace to leave, but someone called out to him.
“Isn’t that the Third Young Master?”
Well, that didn’t take long, he thought, realizing the owner of the bundle had practically sent him a recipient already. Turning around, he saw a large man approaching.
It was Moyong Byeok, the Outer Steward.
Sehwi didn’t know much about the man’s competence or martial ability, but among the collateral branches he was known to be quite influential. That must be how he had risen to such a position.
“Greetings.”
“What brings you to the inner residence?”
The man’s eyes narrowed slightly as he asked the question, which Sehwi found rather amusing. Was it that only the legitimate wife’s children were allowed in the inner quarters? Or was he suspicious that Sehwi had been snooping around?
“My mother asked me to stop by, so I’m on my way back.”
“Ahh, I see!”
Byeok’s gaze naturally dropped to the bundle in Sehwi’s hand.
“Madam Gyu-hwa truly dotes on the Third Young Master. Has she given you another gift?”
Another? Anyone hearing that might think she constantly showered him with affection.
Sehwi narrowed his eyes slightly before nodding.
“She always treats me kindly. I’m deeply grateful… though…”
“…?”
The Outer Steward’s eyes gleamed, as if ready to rush off and report any complaint to the woman the moment he heard one.
“Just by the look of it, it seems like a high-quality item. But even after hearing about it, I couldn’t quite remember what it was.”
“A high-quality item?”
“It’s tea leaves. Taepyeong… what was it again? As you know, I’m completely ignorant when it comes to such things.”
Sehwi frowned slightly as though struggling to recall. The Outer Steward chuckled and nodded.
“It must be Taiping Houkui.”
“Ah! That’s it. As expected of the Outer Steward.”
“It would be stranger not to recognize such fine tea.”
Byeok’s eyes ran up and down Sehwi’s figure. The contempt in his gaze was obvious, so Sehwi deliberately put on an even more awkward expression.
“So, I was wondering…”
“…?”
“Would you perhaps take it? Tea should be enjoyed by someone who actually appreciates it.”
For someone with such a large frame, he was surprisingly transparent with his emotions. The corners of his lips trembled—clearly delighted, yet trying to hide it.
“It’s a gift Madam gave to the Young Master. How could I possibly…”
“You can just say I gave it to you.”
“Well… that is…”
Though he continued to refuse, his eyes never left the bundle.
Annoying, but I’ll have to push him once more.
“If you truly won’t accept it, I’ll just feed it to the birds.”
Byeok’s eyes widened.
Bird feed—for such precious tea?!
“That would be unthinkable! Madam would be terribly upset!”
“Then you’ll accept it?”
Sehwi extended his hand.
It was useless to him anyway, and if he could use it to gain someone’s favor, it was quite a profitable exchange.
Besides, he didn’t want anything touched by that dreadful woman inside his residence.
“Well… I suppose I cannot refuse.”
Grinning broadly, the Outer Steward finally reached out.
The moment he received the bundle, he quickly tucked it inside his robes. Sehwi rolled his eyes watching him—apparently the man was worried someone might see.
Then Sehwi remembered the maid he had seen earlier, the one slapping her own face. The sight had been so bizarre that he casually brought it up.
“Ah, by the way.”
“…?”
“Something seemed to be happening over there earlier.”
“Ah, that… well…”
The steward hesitated, but Sehwi waited calmly, as if confident.
After all, with the bundle he had just received, the man could hardly hide something trivial.
“You must not tell anyone about this. Absolutely not.”
“You know my lips are sealed.”
“That’s true.”
Byeok leaned closer and whispered in Sehwi’s ear.
“Oh? So you’re saying she stopped breathing… and then came back to life?”
“P-please lower your voice.”
“Ah, my apologies.”
“Fortunately we won’t need to dispose of a corpse. But after she opened her eyes, they say she’s been acting like a madwoman, so I’m on my way to check on it.”
“You must be very busy, Outer Steward. You should hurry. I’ll take my leave as well.”
“Ah… yes, then.”
The steward had clearly wanted to chat more, but Sehwi was already walking away.
Watching his retreating figure, the Outer Steward muttered,
“No matter how many times I see him, that face is hard to get used to.”
Eyes the color of a clear blue sky. Hair tinged with the deep blue of a night sky. Even to another man, the harmony of his features was striking.
Did he inherit that appearance from his mother, the one from Cheonggu? And he seems taller than before, too…
Suddenly envious of the young man’s youth and looks, the steward clicked his tongue.
“San-san… she’s not okay, right?”
Possession? Possession?!
No matter how many times I thought about it, it made no sense.
“I don’t know…”
“She didn’t even recognize our names or faces! Did she hit her head or something?!”
“Hey, lower your voice! She’ll hear!”
Yeah. I can hear you just fine.
I let out a sigh.
After sorting through the situation, this was what I understood:
My name was Ma Sansan.
Age fifteen.
A maid working in the outer residence of the Moyong Clan.
Apparently, I had been thought dead—but then I came back to life.
Why the hell did I have to fall into a pile of dung…? Ugh. Even thinking about it again made me nauseous.
The important part was this: the Moyong Clan.
Which meant…
I had transmigrated into a martial arts novel.
Feeling suffocated, I sighed and scrubbed my arm with the washing brush in my hand.
As the splashing sound of washing continued, the two girls outside the door seemed to leave. Footsteps faded away, and soon the door shut.
Still washing myself, I glanced at the reflection in the water.
Wait… why does this face look strangely familiar?
And why is it so pretty?!
Jet-black eyes like obsidian—large even without double eyelids. A straight nose with rounded nostrils. Beneath it, full red lips with a healthy elasticity.
As I studied the features, my heart suddenly dropped.
This face looked uncannily similar to my own face from the life before last.
I stared at the reflection for a moment before waving my hand dismissively.
No way.
Focus.
In a society with rigid class systems, beauty brought more trouble than benefits. It attracted attention for all the wrong reasons.
Now the important question wasn’t that I was a maid—it was which story I had fallen into.
I needed to find someone who could help.
Usually in transmigration stories, the protagonist was either a noble… or secretly turned out to be one later.
But me? Of course not.
Just my luck.
“Hi-heo… Daddy’s sorry. Daddy’s so sorry. I swear I’ll never touch those gambling cards again. Sob…”
Suddenly, I remembered the first time someone had called me Hee-oh.
My shoulders were shaking as someone slapped my cheeks lightly, trying to wake me. When I forced my eyes open, a man covered in tears was hugging me tightly while sobbing.
Even though he kept gambling afterward, that moment—when he first showed affection after coming into my life in the real world—remained deeply etched in my mind.
It was warmth I had never experienced in my previous life.
Maybe that was why, despite all the hardships, I never left his side.
Then one day, I discovered the truth.
My original self had been a character inside a novel.
The memories were hazy, like layers of paint clouding everything. No matter how hard I tried, they wouldn’t come back clearly.
Except for one thing.
My father.
A ruthless man who didn’t hesitate to turn even his own child into a living puppet for the sake of his goals.
Compared to that, a gambling addict father was practically cute.
Maybe it was because my memories of the previous life were mostly filled with that cold, manipulative father who used me like a tool—but even while constantly running from danger in my second life, I was grateful that my mind had remained intact.
A puppet soaked in brainwashing and mental control. Yes.
That had been me.
A life spent repeating orders and execution. A disposable tool, discarded the moment it lost its usefulness.
I hated that.
Even though I had once again transmigrated into a novel, this time it was different.
At least my mind was my own.
So for any future danger, I had to identify the unique traits of this novel.
I wanted a life different from the unpredictable chaos of the past.
Both my previous life and the one before that were disasters.
I didn’t dream of becoming some wise figure who predicted future events. Nor did I want to get rich like I had won the lottery.
I only wanted one thing:
A peaceful life.
After spending so long being chased around in my last life, my only dream now was to live normally.
Once I finished washing, a gentle-eyed girl brought me some clothes—as if she somehow knew I was done.
“Thank you. Um… your name was…”
I had heard it earlier, but the unfamiliar name slipped my mind. As I hesitated, moving my lips awkwardly, she stepped closer.
“Danso. My name is Danso.”
“Ah, right. Danso.”
“Are you feeling a little better?”
For sanitation, the Moyong Clan apparently kept a manure cart in the farthest corner of the estate. Above that place was a long cliff.
And apparently, I had fallen from there.
It was so high that no one could even understand how I had gotten up there.
“Y-yeah. I think I’ve got some bruises, but it doesn’t seem like I have trouble moving.”
“That’s a relief.”
Danso had a bright, gentle smile. For some reason, the tension that had stiffened my heart slowly eased.
“You’re hungry, right?”
She handed me a steamed bun.
Grrr…
Until a moment ago I had forgotten about hunger, but the moment I saw the bun, my stomach roared loudly.
“That was loud… how embarrassing.”
“Go ahead and eat. I’ll bring some water.”
“Thanks.”
The bun was still warm.
I took a bite, and the soft texture filled my mouth.
“Delicious.”
Another bite revealed sweet red bean paste inside.
It reminded me of the buns the lady at the neighborhood store used to give me during winter.
Maybe my startled heart was finally calming down.
For some reason, tears started to fall.
“Hic…”
After living twenty-five years as Kim Hee-oh, I had somehow ended up transmigrating into a martial arts novel again.
Kim Hee-oh—the girl who moved from place to place because of her father’s gambling debts, the girl whose school was even visited by thugs—was gone now.
I rubbed my swollen eyes with the back of my hand.
But this wasn’t the time to cry.
If I wanted to survive inside a novel whose story I didn’t even know…
Then please.
Let the misfortune that comes my way be only what I can predict—
only what I can endure.
…But not long after, I would realize something.
I was a rabbit that had wandered straight into a tiger’s den.
