Chapter 34. It’s Hard to Hold Back
Now that the wedding dress was completed and they had even found someone among the gods they interacted with to officiate the ceremony, the preparations for Seo Hyo and Cha Eon’s marriage proceeded without a hitch.
Then Cha Eon made a suggestion.
Originally, they had planned to hold the ceremony at the manor and then leave on a trip. But Cha Eon proposed that they should instead travel while moving to a new place to live.
It was a bit sudden, but he said it was about time they left this area anyway.
That was true.
By next year, it would be her eleventh year living here. No matter how she changed her hairstyle, makeup, or clothes, it would be difficult to deceive humans for more than ten years with an unaging face.
When it was time to leave, they always left quietly.
That was the rule.
However, this town in particular had grown on her, so Seo Hyo packed medicinal herbs in bulk and left them with the bookstore owner.
Once she left a place, she would never return. At least, not until the bookstore owner’s only son grew old and became a white-haired elderly man.
“I’ve gotten quite attached. This is a bit sad.”
The bookstore owner looked at the mountain of medicinal bundles. Then, saying this was all he had to give, he tied up several newly arrived books and handed them over. Even when she tried to refuse, he insisted stubbornly.
In the end, Seo Hyo accepted books that had never been in anyone else’s hands.
“Take care of your health, sir.”
“Yes, you too, young lady.”
“Don’t come out to see me off.”
“I can’t let you leave without even this kind of farewell. I still need to introduce you to my son—but that brat went off to the festival today.”
There were many waves and bows exchanged before Seo Hyo finally walked steadily back to the pharmacy.
Ahee’s group had arrived, so there were plenty of helping hands.
Inside the pharmacy, packing was already in full swing.
“You’re here.”
Standing gracefully by a pillar and issuing orders to Cha Eon’s subordinates, Cha Eon greeted her.
“You didn’t cry, did you?”
“Why would I cry?”
“You cry every time we leave a town until your nose turns red.”
Cha Eon’s eyes scanned Seo Hyo.
“You seem better today. Did you wipe your face in an alley or something?”
“I really didn’t cry.”
The butler looked at her intently.
“Well… I did feel a bit emotional, but I didn’t cry. I said my goodbyes properly while smiling.”
She even showed him the books she had received, shrugging as if she were different from before.
“A person needs to grow.”
“It feels strange hearing that from you, young lady.”
“What does that mean?”
“…Over there, be careful with that vase.”
Seo Hyo shot him a sharp look.
“You just changed the subject, didn’t you?”
Cha Eon pretended not to hear and continued giving orders.
Ahee’s subordinates, whom Seo Hyo had thought were only good at playing around, turned out to be surprisingly useful workers. They were performers and troupe members used to carrying heavy loads.
The dancers, who insisted on wearing light, flowing clothes even in the cold winter, were especially skilled. Their hands moved deftly as they packed cosmetics and clothes.
To them, packing was just another form of celebration for the wedding—more of a lively game than work. That was why they had been helping cheerfully for days.
But to Seo Hyo, it all felt like Cha Eon’s scheme.
Because if it were just her and Cha Eon, the butler would have had to suffer alone.
He was such an outstanding butler that he could finish moving preparations in a single day—but that also meant he would be working nonstop the entire time.
It was as if everything Seo Hyo tried to do displeased him.
Why was she lifting something heavy? She should just stand still. If she insisted on helping, then do this instead—but stop immediately if it was even slightly difficult.
That endless nagging.
At this point, the problem might be Cha Eon himself. When had he gone from not letting her lift a finger to complaining about how hard it was to serve her?
Did he think she had forgotten?
“Did you call Ahee’s group for this?”
Cha Eon had always detested them, openly calling them nothing but troublemakers. Even if it was Seo Hyo’s wedding and Ahee was her friend, she hadn’t expected Cha Eon to suggest inviting them.
When she had heard, “We should also invite the goddess of festivals,” she had been so puzzled.
Cha Eon turned to her.
“Then why else would I call these crazy people?”
“Speak a bit more quietly.”
“To make them pay for all the trouble they’ve caused us under the excuse of a celebration. This is the only chance we’ll get.”
As expected of her butler—he was terrifying.
He really did hold grudges. Not just a little, but completely.
Seo Hyo shook her head and walked away, stopping in front of the medicinal storage cabinets lining one wall.
They were only taking clothes and decorations. Heavy furniture and jars would remain.
Even the new medicine cabinet she had had made here would be left behind.
“Let’s move, everyone.”
Only a lost goddess could do this.
Seo Hyo slowly drew a circle in the air and pulled her hand toward herself.
Then over two hundred drawers of the medicine cabinet opened at once. Spirits—excited about going to a new place—rushed out. With a gentle gesture, she shrank them down until they became the size of a small bead.
She opened her usual mother-of-pearl box and placed the rosy energy inside.
Clack!
With the final motion, all the drawers of the cabinet closed at once.
A clear sound rang out.
The medicine cabinet that had held countless spirits for ten years returned to being an ordinary piece of furniture.
“Are they all inside?”
Cha Eon entered through the inner door.
“Once we load everything into the carriage, we’re done.”
“Yeah, I’m finished.”
Seo Hyo held up the mother-of-pearl box.
As soon as she said that, Ahee’s group carried the luggage outside. With strong men like them, who could lift multiple bundles at once, everything would be done quickly.
“Seo Hyo, get on the carriage! They said they’re done with everything!”
Ahee called out, bouncing as she carried a bundle of clothes.
The pharmacy they looked back at felt both familiar and lonely. They had taken only people and small items, so it looked as if life there could resume the very next day.
But Seo Hyo and Cha Eon would not return.
Her nose tingled.
It always felt like this when parting.
“If you miss it, we can come back during festival season at the palace.”
Cha Eon said, patting her shoulder.
“We’ll be wearing masks then, so no one will recognize us.”
Unlike before, when he would have said they would forget in a month, the butler had become noticeably gentler.
Seo Hyo nodded and held his hand tightly before boarding the carriage with her mother-of-pearl box. Ahee’s group was more excited than if they were the ones moving.
The carriage set off.
Seo Hyo watched the pharmacy shrink into a small dot.
Silently whispering “thank you” over and over again.
After half an hour of travel, they arrived at the manor.
Cha Eon had said they were only borrowing it for a few days, but what awaited them was a fully prepared residence: soft bedding, a hearth, a kitchen stocked with dishes of all sizes.
Even wedding supplies were neatly arranged.
The group immediately began decorating with red paper and hanging festive ornaments.
Only Seo Hyo was speechless at Cha Eon’s level of preparation.
He must have even hired workers.
How much had he spent?
If the plan was to remind her of money, it was a complete success. The problem was that Cha Eon was entirely serious.
Even Seo Hyo, who often spoke of marriage, didn’t actually know the proper procedures.
But Cha Eon—who had once said he would live beside her forever—had apparently studied etiquette books and prepared as if he had been waiting for this day his entire life.
A day passed.
Tomorrow was the long-awaited wedding.
She had waited for it for 150 years, yet it was happening suddenly, with someone entirely unexpected.
Seo Hyo still felt dazed. But that was separate from the flutter in her chest. She liked Cha Eon—so even if she was overwhelmed, she did not hesitate.
Knock knock.
“Cha Eon, what are you doing?”
She went to the kitchen where the groom, who was supposed to marry tomorrow, refused to come out.
Cha Eon was cooking, a book open beside him.
“Don’t tell me you’re still preparing food for tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“For the wedding table and banquet too?”
“Yes. It’s surprisingly complicated.”
Left alone, he looked like he would cook until morning.
It was good that he was diligent—but this was too much.
“Who prepares their own wedding food?”
“I do.”
“Ahee and Ducheok rested for three days before their wedding. Everyone else does that too.”
Cha Eon stirred the pot calmly.
“That’s other people.”
“Just leave it to the workers.”
Seo Hyo gently tugged his arm.
“There’s a good restaurant in town. Let’s just order from there.”
“Now?”
His expression hardened.
“You’re suggesting ordering wedding food?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not proper etiquette.”
“Forget etiquette.”
She stopped his words with a soft smile.
“I care more about you. A groom exhausted from cooking all night would make me sad.”
“But…”
He clearly wanted to say store-bought food wouldn’t satisfy him.
Seo Hyo grabbed his fingers and fiddled with them.
“You told me to take it easy before, didn’t you?”
With a playful squeeze of her nails—enough to tickle but not hurt—she made him pause.
“Then you should take it easy too.”
Cha Eon finally let out a small laugh and set down the ladle, though he still looked reluctant.
“I want it to be perfect.”
“I don’t understand that obsession.”
Seo Hyo picked up the book he had been reading. After a few pages, she was sure stopping him had been the right choice.
If she had left him alone, she might not have seen him until midnight.
What about the noodles?
There were more than twenty-five of Ahee’s group alone. With fox girls and invited minor gods, there were over thirty guests.
Noodles were essential at wedding banquets.
Was he really planning to hand-make noodles for everyone?
A groom also had to carry his bride lovingly to the bed.
“With arms that worked all day, you won’t even be able to lift me.”
And even if he could, he would be too exhausted to stay awake.
“Eek… why am I already thinking such things?”
She hoped Cha Eon couldn’t hear her thoughts.
“It’s because it’s your wedding with me.”
He answered a little late.
She wondered if he would still use formal speech after marriage.
Cha Eon resumed cleaning up, saying the food would be served that evening.
Seo Hyo asked her question.
He smiled faintly.
“You don’t like a man who immediately drops honorifics after marriage, do you?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“You said it before.”
“I did?”
She didn’t remember everything she said.
Cha Eon continued.
“Specifically, you said you disliked couples where the man drops honorifics right after marriage and the woman continues speaking formally. It was probably after watching a play in the palace.”
He shrugged.
“I’ll follow whatever the young lady wants. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“That play… I don’t even remember it, but even hearing it now sounds weird.”
He chuckled softly.
“Then let’s keep it as it is.”
“Hm.”
Maybe it didn’t matter.
Most couples had wives use honorifics anyway, so it felt strange to think about. Even Ahee did it with her husband Ducheok, though she was younger.
She was thinking when—
“If I suddenly drop honorifics…”
Cha Eon glanced at her.
“Would it feel strange?”
Seo Hyo froze.
A slow smile formed on his lips.
“Wouldn’t it already feel strange?”
“Uh…”
She blinked, unsure how to respond.
Cha Eon rarely spoke briefly unless he was angry or scolding her.
But now—
“If I started speaking casually, you’d be overwhelmed right away, young lady. You’d lose your senses.”
Then he returned to his usual speech.
For some reason, she felt relieved.
“Wouldn’t you enjoy it?”
“Not exactly… just surprised.”
She looked down at the red fruits piled on the tray.
It wasn’t discomfort—it was shock.
The problem was that casual-speaking Cha Eon didn’t feel strange at all.
It was too natural.
As if he had always been like that.
Her authority as “young lady” felt increasingly fragile.
Cha Eon was already shaking her enough as it was.
“And this?”
“It’s candied jujube.”
He explained that there was a ritual where they bite it together.
“Bite it and share it?”
“It might be hard since it’s small.”
“We can practice.”
Before she knew it, she was seated on the table.
“Shall I hold it, or will you?”
Seo Hyo bit half of the jujube without hesitation.
“Then—”
Cha Eon bit down immediately.
Their teeth met the fruit—and her half slipped away.
At the same time, his lips touched hers.
A light “chup” sound.
“Failure.”
He chewed the remaining jujube as if savoring victory.
Seo Hyo licked the sugar from her lips in defeat.
“You’re supposed to hold it properly.”
“You bit too hard.”
“It’s not candy, of course you have to bite it.”
They tried again.
“Chup.”
Again.
“Chup.”
And again.
Only Cha Eon kept succeeding.
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Why would I? I’m just hungry.”
He played innocent extremely well.
Something about his gaze changed.
Seo Hyo didn’t realize he was staring at her lips.
The next moment—
He kissed her.
“Ah—”
It was no gentle kiss.
It was intense, consuming.
She fell back against the table.
His hand reached for her buttons.
One came undone.
Another.
He finally pulled back, breathing heavily.
He rested his forehead against her shoulder.
“Since tomorrow is the wedding…”
He smiled faintly, strained.
“I’m honestly… having a hard time holding back.”
She couldn’t tell him not to hold back.
But the lingering warmth made her sigh.
“From tomorrow on, I won’t hold back.”
His fingers tickled her side.
“Eek—stop, it’s ticklish!”
Her laughter spilled out into the kitchen for a long while.
