Chapter 10: Vow of Eternal Love (2)
“Shall I remind you that the punishment for harassing a woman is fifteen lashes?”
A firm arm suddenly shot out beside me, restraining the man’s arm.
At the familiar voice, Seo-hyo turned her head.
“Cha-eon?”
Her voice came out surprised, almost rising at the end in a way that sounded comically high-pitched. That’s how shocked she was.
Cha-eon had appeared. How did he know I was here?
His expression was as gentle as hair fluttering in a soft breeze, but Seo-hyo noticed the man’s arm trembling uncontrollably—Cha-eon was using significant strength.
The burly man’s face contorted in pain.
Even though he tried to act indifferent in front of the lady he was harassing, he clearly couldn’t endure it. His previously smug face turned a deep crimson, and involuntary groans escaped him.
“You bastard!”
The man threw a punch at Cha-eon. It was a full-powered strike, but the butler easily dodged and released his hold.
Now the man’s arm, previously in control, was free—and it was the man who wobbled.
He barely avoided smashing his nose on the floor.
“Your manners are appalling, young master.”
Cha-eon spoke calmly, as if nothing had happened.
“I won’t demand an apology. He wouldn’t apologize sincerely anyway, so what good would it do? Just return our lady’s belongings.”
He shook his sleeve, as if brushing off the brief contact with the man.
“That’ll do.”
“What the hell is this guy?”
The man barked out in frustration. Being thrust into an unexpected situation, he immediately blurted crude words like a common thug.
Then, remembering the mention of “the lady,” his eyes turned sharp.
He’d realized Seo-hyo’s relationship with Cha-eon.
He was just a lowly servant of the woman he intended to harass. Nothing to fear, even if the servant was strong.
“You insolent brat! Do you know who I am?”
“I’m not interested. Just hand over the item.”
“You—this is Bang Tae-joo!”
He bellowed.
“I’ve got twenty men under me!”
Cha-eon exhaled silently. Was the man revealing his subordinates’ number because he was too cowardly to die alone? Asking Cha-eon to die with him because they shared a boat?
With Mirang’s matter resolved, another problem had emerged.
Bang Tae-joo.
A young master.
And Seo-hyo, unusually motivated.
It couldn’t be mere coincidence. Something was clearly unfolding that Cha-eon wasn’t aware of. Who was this young master? What the hell was his true identity?
Cha-eon’s nerves were taut, making him act rashly.
He had hidden Seo-hyo’s shoes earlier. It was a drastic measure, but if it prevented her from leaving the house, he was willing to go even further.
Shoes weren’t enough. Next time, maybe he’d hide her clothes.
These thoughts didn’t even faze Cha-eon.
Meanwhile, the man lunged at Seo-hyo the moment he stepped inside the shop. Cha-eon reacted instinctively, moving his body first.
The man seemed trained, but a mere human could never match Cha-eon.
He could have broken the man’s arm in that very instant. But an arm wasn’t the only thing he could snap. Cha-eon could do things the man couldn’t even imagine with a single finger.
Yet this foolish man acted brazenly, unaware of who he was dealing with.
“You little punks don’t recognize Bang Tae-joo!”
“Punks?”
Cha-eon’s eyebrows twitched. Had he heard that correctly? What did the man just call Seo-hyo?
Suddenly, the commotion outside was accompanied by the sound of heavy rain splashing.
A downpour struck the ground with such force it seemed to punch holes in the dirt, scattering pedestrians under eaves.
Women and children screamed and ran for cover.
“I really don’t care about the young master. Just give me back the painting.”
Gaining courage from Cha-eon’s presence, Seo-hyo reached for the painting. The man roughly swatted her hand away and crumpled the paper in his grasp.
Cha-eon clenched his fist.
“Oi!”
The shop assistant, startled by the tense scene, looked outside and froze. A flash of lightning lit the sky briefly.
Thunder would follow next.
The assistant hurried to close the half-open window, bewildered by the sudden weather change.
Cha-eon slowly counted to five internally.
“Will you hand over the painting?”
He asked the man directly. He didn’t care if the picture was destroyed by fire or anything else—but Seo-hyo wanted it, so it had to be retrieved.
“You’re too soft.”
Cha-eon muttered bitterly to himself.
If it was what she wanted, he’d crawl across the floor to get it. No matter the risk to himself.
“It’s fine,” his inner voice said.
As long as he could see Seo-hyo smile.
Rumble.
Thunder echoed across the sky.
“Hmph, is it really that important?”
The man glanced Cha-eon up and down, then at the painting, and finally fixed his gaze on Seo-hyo. In the next instant, he deliberately tore the painting in front of her.
“Ah!”
Seo-hyo screamed. The man folded, tore, and crumpled the paper before throwing it at her. The crushed paper struck her face.
“You little brat—teasing me got you dragged along, huh?”
He spat on the floor.
“Owner, take my men to Jinhyang Pavilion—”
Bang! Crash! Boom!
“Ah!”
He couldn’t finish his sentence. Lightning struck the shop wall, bringing down bricks and the display behind him. Rain poured in through the hole.
The once-loud man groaned, crushed under debris.
“Ugh… uh… sob.”
Still alive, but trembling violently. The shop owner and assistant cleared the bricks and helped him out. His face was ashen, shock and pain written all over.
People sheltering outside peeked inside, whispering, some even rushing to bring a doctor.
Cha-eon approached the stunned Seo-hyo.
“There’s nothing more to take here,” he said, tugging her gently.
“But the painting’s ruined… I want to salvage it…”
“I’ve memorized the design. Let’s go before it gets worse.”
He held her arm and led her outside.
Seo-hyo, still wide-eyed, glanced between the hole in the wall and the fallen man, and reluctantly followed Cha-eon.
Meanwhile, Cha-eon’s expression remained cold. Without looking back, he coldly addressed the man lying on the floor.
Who told you to cross the line?
From now on, whenever this man tried to harass women, he would remember the wall collapsing behind him. Cha-eon silently wished this lesson would last a long time.
Even after leaving the shop, Seo-hyo couldn’t believe what had happened.
She had heard stories of trees struck by lightning and how charms or stamps made from the wood could bring good luck.
But seeing a man struck—well, more accurately, a lightning bolt hitting the shop wall and collapsing the display on him—was chilling.
It felt as though someone above was watching. Seo-hyo shivered.
“Ugh.”
Let’s forget it. At least he’s alive. His legs still work, which is fortunate. Just a harsh scolding.
She shook her head to focus. Above all, it was reassuring that Cha-eon remembered the design of the “donggot” exactly.
Cha-eon’s memory was reliable. Once home, he’d redraw it. He thought this as he held the sunshade above them.
“Why stop all of a sudden?”
Cha-eon handed Seo-hyo the umbrella, then opened his own. Walking leisurely, she followed him, glancing around.
No one.
No umbrella sellers in sight, despite the downpour. It was as if they had received a note from the rain god in advance.
Seo-hyo looked at her umbrella, then at Cha-eon’s.
“Is this umbrella ours?”
Cha-eon glanced at her, as if hearing the strangest thing today.
“I don’t steal for fun.”
“So it’s ours. You brought it, Cha-eon.”
Seo-hyo repeated it to herself aloud, but it still sounded strange.
“How did you know it would rain today?”
“Why wouldn’t I know?”
The morning had been clear and sunny. Seo-hyo’s expression twisted strangely.
“Everyone but you probably knew.”
She slowed, observing the street. People drenched by the rain hurried along, while market stalls were still moving goods. No one carried an umbrella.
“Let’s go. It should stop soon.”
Seo-hyo felt foolish, but as soon as they passed the city gate, the rain stopped as if on cue. Incredible.
“It’s time, it’s time. Trying to sneak into Seo-hyo’s room again! Meow!”
“Evil Cha-eon! More sinister than the shop owner stealing scraps! Woof!”
“During the day, he scolds and glares!”
“At night, he sneaks into the lady’s room! Chirp!”
It was past midnight.
The spirits inside the herbal cabinet were chirping excitedly. They had played after Seo-hyo’s outing and were now exhilarated—and fearless.
“Eek!”
The striped cat spirit puffed its tail like a raccoon.
“Planning to snap our necks? Chirp!”
“If so, Seo-hyo will be sad. We can’t see her cry.”
“Yikes! He’s coming this way!”
Dozens of tiny spirits clung to the cabinet hooks. They had been playful earlier, but now they were genuinely frightened.
Cha-eon glanced at them without opening the drawer. They shivered at his cold gaze.
“Why does our cute Seo-hyo have such a fearsome butler?”
“They told the old parrot who passed the rainbow bridge the other day to request from the Celestial Emperor to replace him with a nicer one.”
“Eeek! He heard!”
“Hands up! Naughty Cha-eon!”
The spirits’ eyes widened.
Seo-hyo didn’t know Cha-eon’s true nature. But the little spirits had been silenced by him since the first day they entered the cabinet.
Cha-eon threatened that he could destroy the spirits if they exposed his actions. The rabbit siblings were a cautionary example.
Even after repeated mischief, they remembered the lesson.
“Watch your mouth.”
Cha-eon scolded in a low voice.
“This afternoon, I sent lightning to someone who angered me.”
“…Such a wicked temper.”
“All can hear me.”
The tiny spirit hid in its old clothes.
The older spirits whispered about how the sky, previously clear, suddenly raged with wind and lightning.
“If you make noise, or wake Seo-hyo—”
“Never, meow!”
“Then get back to your tasks, chirp!”
The feather-light spirits twitched inside the cabinet. Cha-eon gave them a stern look before moving on, carrying incense for sleep and calm that he had made himself, observing how humans used it.
He could use his power to destroy—call down lightning, shake the ground, level hundreds of houses. All possible.
Yet when Seo-hyo was ill, he felt powerless.
Severe colds, fevers—he brewed her medicine, cooked her meals, cared for her. Healing was never fast enough for him.
“That’s all I can do,” he murmured.
Despite his size, he moved silently across the courtyard and entered her room.
A basket of quince on the table emitted a fragrant, sweet scent—perfect for Seo-hyo.
Once asleep, she rarely woke easily.
“Seo-hyo.”
He softly called her name at her bedside, even adding the familiar title he had grown accustomed to.
“Miss Seo-hyo?”
Only the sound of her breathing responded.
Better this way. If she woke and whispered his name, he’d lose focus.
“Can a person be this beautiful…?”
Cha-eon muttered, not caring if the spirits heard.
Her long lashes, delicate, perfect features, flawless skin without makeup…
He gently stroked the cheek he had tugged at earlier, his touch sending a shiver through him.
The moon was clear, the air fresh, nightbirds singing, and they were together. He had vowed not to act rashly, but sometimes he wished to lock the gate and cut themselves off from the world.
No one to see.
No one to find her.
No one to let her leave.
Would it make this precious moment last just a little longer?
“Does my place exist in this dream?”
Cha-eon whispered and chuckled.
Forget it, Seo-hyo. Just dream sweetly, ignoring greedy thoughts.
“…The incense tonight is nice.”
Leaning against the bedpost, Cha-eon watched her fingers move slightly. A faint smile appeared on his lips.
If only time could stop like this.
It was a tender, sweet moment.
