‘You little thief! Stop right there!’
It was the phrase I’d heard more than any other when I was a kid.
Whenever I stole food, I’d ram it into my mouth, too hot to even taste, and run for it. Once it was in my stomach, no one could take it back—it was mine.
If I was unlucky enough to get caught, they’d beat me senseless. Even then, I’d always protect my belly. Because if I threw it up, I’d just be hungry again in no time.
Maybe it’s because those memories cut so deep they’re etched into my bones.
Even after reaching a point in life where I could eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, I never lost that bottomless appetite. When I did eat, it was always enough to make others gawk.
As a kid, there were days when stronger brats snatched away what I’d stolen. It was frustrating, sure, but not sad. I just needed to get stronger so I could take it back.
That was simply how things worked. If you had power, you took. If you didn’t, you got taken from.
And now, for the first time since I was a child, I was the weakest person in the room. In this beautiful garden, at this round table surrounded by six family members—I was the weakest.
If each of these people smacked me once, I’d probably spend tomorrow laid up in bed, feverish.
“Here, eat up. You said you were hungry, so we prepared plenty of meat. You’ve been ill and your body’s grown frail, so you must eat well.”
The Moyong clan head, Moyong Wi, pushed a beautifully deboned duck dish toward me.
The table was so packed with dishes there wasn’t a scrap of empty space. Meat, seafood, fowl—everything imaginable. And almost all the finest plates were clustered right in front of me.
Just the smell had my stomach practically gnawing itself, screaming to be filled.
Honestly, I wanted to dive in like one of those Beggar’s Union ruffians.
But my hands hesitated. It wasn’t just old habits making me wary of food prepared by others.
The problem was these Moyong bastards—staring at me with those annoyingly clear, sparkling eyes, all waiting for me to take a bite.
The only people who’d ever watched me eat that eagerly were the ones who’d slipped poison into the food. But these people weren’t doing that… right? Then why were they so desperate to see me eat? Unless… they did poison it?
In the end, I forced a stiff smile.
“Ah… Father, you go ahead. Elders first.”
I even made a clumsy gesture.
A brief silence fell. Then a wave of emotion swept over them. Moyong Wi’s eyes grew moist.
“Yes… Yes, let’s do that. Everyone, eat. Please, my lady.”
Apparently their bar for getting touched was absurdly low.
They all started eating, and I carefully noted which dishes their chopsticks touched—then copied them.
The tender meat melted in my mouth.
Damn, this family’s chefs were good.
Just then, one of the twins—the one with the calmer expression, probably the youngest, Moyong Ha—picked up some spiced pork slices I’d been eyeing. I quickly grabbed a piece myself. The other twin laughed.
“You’re just the same as ever.”
“Eh? What?”
What was that supposed to mean?
But when I looked up, I realized the whole family had stopped eating, just watching me with warm smiles.
Had I been eating too greedily?
It stung a little. Proper young ladies from righteous clans probably didn’t shovel food down like this.
Moyong Cheon chuckled.
“Mother, do you remember? Even when Ahwa was little, she absolutely had to copy everything we did—what we wore, what we ate, how we played. It was so adorable.”
Lady Eon smiled too, as if picturing it right before her eyes.
“Yes, that’s true. If you boys had two bowls of rice, she’d insist on two as well. Even when we said she’d get a stomachache, she was stubborn. Once, when Hyuk was eating spicy food, she forced herself to try it and ended up bawling.”
Isn’t that just greedy and pigheaded? I would’ve smacked her.
“That’s not all. Remember Hyuk’s birthday? She demanded we celebrate her too. When we said only the birthday boy got the attention, she pouted so hard—tried to flip the table, couldn’t manage it, then stomped her feet and burst into tears.”
…Wow. Sounded like she’d been a pretty high-maintenance kid.
I didn’t see what was so delightful about that, but these people were all starry-eyed. Totally incomprehensible.
“In the end, she couldn’t stand it and pulled poor Cheon’s hair out instead, yelling how she hated birthdays.”
Lady Eon laughed quietly. Moyong Ha added that she’d looked like a chicken with feathers ripped out, making Moyong Cheon flush and snap,
“I simply offered my head to my darling little sister! Besides, why did you pull my hair when it was Hyuk’s birthday…?”
The eldest, Moyong Muhyeok, was laughing too—then suddenly turned to me.
“Do you remember pulling my hair back then?”
As if. That was someone else’s childhood.
I gulped down the mouthful I was chewing and answered flatly.
“I must’ve been really weak back then. Seeing how you still have such a full head of hair.”
It wasn’t meant to be funny, but they all burst out laughing like it was the best joke in the world.
Honestly, what a silly, baffling family.
Was Moyong Yeonhwa always this cheerful with them?
“You’ve continued to grow up so bright. It makes you all the more precious and dear.”
Moyong Wi said it gently.
Basically just calling her immature, wasn’t he?
If she’d been even a little more sensible, she wouldn’t have suggested going fishing when the Paeng family head was visiting about a marriage alliance.
But everyone just nodded in agreement, like it was the wisest thing ever.
I couldn’t begin to fathom why they doted on such a spoiled brat this much.
The entire meal was filled with stories about Moyong Yeonhwa.
It didn’t even seem to be the first time they’d shared these memories. They just loved reliving her childhood.
I didn’t care if they talked or not—my hands stayed busy.
Even after stuffing myself so full I thought I’d burst, no one scolded me or gave me funny looks.
“Would you like some more?”
I’d probably eaten most of what was on the table.
Moyong Wi still asked if I wanted seconds. I hesitated, then shook my head. My mind was willing, but apparently this body wasn’t used to big meals—it was already full.
Made sense, since she’d never trained.
Less energy burned, smaller appetite.
“It’s good to see you eating so well.”
…So she usually ate even less than this?
“Being sick must’ve really brought back your appetite.”
I covered with a casual shrug. Everyone beamed at me as I awkwardly wiped my mouth on my sleeve—only to have my eldest brother beat me to it, using a cloth.
“Don’t wipe on your sleeve. You’ll stain your pretty clothes.”
Seriously, this family was too sappy and weird.
I flinched but gave a reluctant nod.
Now that the meal was finally over, I wanted to leave.
But nobody looked ready to stand. I kept shifting, gripping my teacup, desperate to escape this garden.
That’s when Moyong Wi spoke.
“This father has been too busy to pay proper attention to you. While you were ill, we all deeply reflected on that.”
“…Ah.”
“Is there anything you want? Anything you need? Just say the word.”
Everyone nodded.
If I told them to fetch me the moon so I could nibble on it, they’d probably try.
I almost brushed it off, then a thought struck me.
“…Martial arts. I’d like to learn some martial arts.”
“Martial arts?”
All their eyes went wide.
Fair. Seeing how pitifully untrained this body was, they’d probably assumed she’d sworn off training entirely. To suddenly ask to learn now—anyone would be surprised.
Luckily, I’d prepared a decent excuse.
“After nearly drowning, I… realized I need some strength to protect myself.”
Damn. Even I thought that was a solid reason.
And it wasn’t a lie.
I absolutely did need power to protect myself.
If I wanted to survive here, at this time, martial arts were essential.
But then Moyong Wi and Lady Eon’s expressions turned strangely serious.
I’d expected them to tear up, maybe even applaud my resolve. Instead, they just stared.
A chill crawled up my neck.
Come to think of it, the sons were dumb enough to swallow it. But the parents? They were the ones who built the Moyong clan into what it was. They might not fall for my flimsy story.
Moyong Wi slowly set down his chopsticks and spoke in a low voice.
“Yeonhwa. You’ve shown no interest in martial arts all these years… and now you suddenly wish to learn? You?”
Lady Eon’s gaze was equally grave.
I must’ve truly slipped up this time.
There was no way out.
I’d lied, without martial arts, right in front of the entire family that led the Moyong clan.
And the worst part? I was a demonic butcher in the body of their precious youngest daughter.
My skin crawled.
I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to look at the fear creeping up my spine.
I could already see the future—alive, but flayed alive.
Fine. I’d just pretend this was a short nightmare before I died again anyway…
Then suddenly—clap, clap.
…Huh?
I cracked an eye open.
Moyong Wi was applauding. Then the whole family joined in, clapping for me.
“We might just see a great female master emerge from our clan.”
He smiled warmly.
His eyes were sparkling more than usual—were those tears?
“Father, it seems Ahwa was so moved by our martial deeds that she’s decided to follow in our footsteps.”
The second brother… was he insane? When did I say that?
“Yes, she’s always wanted to do whatever you three did. It’s no surprise.”
Lady Eon nodded, deeply touched.
Why were they buying this nonsense so easily?
Or maybe… thank god they were so stupid.
I looked at these ridiculous Moyongs, half exasperated, half relieved.
These people would probably support Yeonhwa even if she decided to float across the sea on a leaf.
“So long you’ve seemed uninterested, we thought it best not to push you. But if you’ve changed your mind, that makes me very happy. Knowing how to defend yourself makes life far easier—it’s a wise decision.”
Moyong Wi spoke gravely.
Lady Eon nodded.
As a daughter of the Jinju Eon clan, she surely knew some martial arts herself.
The only delicate flower here, the one they’d always fretted over as if she might break at a touch, was finally asking to train.
Of course they were overjoyed.
“I’ll teach her,” Moyong Muhyeok offered immediately.
The twins jumped in too.
“Brother, you’ve your betrothal and clan duties—let us handle it.”
“You’re busier than we are anyway.”
They squabbled over it, leaving Moyong Wi looking conflicted.
So I helped him out.
“I refuse.”
They all wilted.
“I don’t want special treatment, and I don’t need it. I’ll handle this myself.”
“You’ll still need an instructor,” Lady Eon said worriedly.
She wasn’t wrong.
But I’d never really had a master. I hated bonds that created attachments—those only ever turned into weaknesses. In my old world, that was how it worked.
I’d even exploited plenty of righteous sect fools that way.
“I’ll think about it. But I definitely don’t want… my brothers teaching me.”
“But Ahwa—”
“That’s enough. She doesn’t dislike you boys—it’s just that the others in the clan might see it as favoritism, and she’s wisely avoiding that. Respect her wishes.”
Moyong Wi’s voice was gentle, yet firm.
Honestly, I did dislike them. But sure, let’s go with that.
That ended the discussion.
Sort of.
What followed was a fresh wave of sappy nonsense that nearly left me hollowed out.
By the time the painfully long meal wrapped up, I was convinced—there were many hells, and one of them was definitely the Moyong Hell.
I hate this family.
***
I left with my stomach empty, and returned clutching it like it might burst.
If the old unorthodox scum I used to hang around with knew I’d stuffed myself on the Moyong clan’s rice and meat like this, they wouldn’t believe it.
But through death, I’d accomplished it.
Belly full, I sat cross-legged on the bed, planning to circulate my energy and build up my internal strength. At last… some peace.
“My lady, it’s Hyangah.”
I wanted to scream.
Why! Why couldn’t anyone in this damn house leave me alone? Were they all so pathologically lonely? Was that why the righteous sect types always ran around in packs?
“Can it wait? Even if it’s urgent?”
“It really, really can’t!”
I sighed and told her to come in.
She entered, a little flushed, and burst out,
“Young Lord Dang Iheon is here. He heard you were ill and came to call. Isn’t he so thoughtful?”
Dang Iheon? Who the hell was that?
I dug through my foggy memories.
If he was from the Dang clan, it’d be the Sichuan Dang. All that surfaced was a vague sense of wariness—nothing specific.
At least if I didn’t remember him, he probably wasn’t one I’d ever harmed.
While I sat there blank, Hyangah hurried over and tried to pull me up.
I instinctively flinched away from her hands.
She didn’t care. Instead, she clapped her hands sharply right in front of my face.
“I know you’re overwhelmed, but there’s no time to space out! Your fiancé is here—we have to get you ready. Let’s redo your hair. Should I fetch the dress you wore before? Earrings—ah! Those jade ones that came as a gift…”
Her words washed over me in a rush—until one stuck and slammed into my brain.
“Wait, hold on. Fiancé?”
I had… or rather, Moyong Yeonhwa had a fiancé? And he was here now?
