GTHWCS~06

CHAPTER~06

Reading the worry and doubt in Sorae’s eyes, Yeong-won gave a bitter smile and added quietly,

“I need money, Sorae. Without it, I can’t clear my family’s name or take revenge—or do anything at all.”

After her parents’ deaths, the Ha clan had vanished without a trace.

She had no trustworthy relatives, and what little silver she had left was already spent on travel expenses.

If her only goal had been survival, she wouldn’t have needed to walk a thousand li to reach Jejado.

But she had to wash away her parents’ unjust deaths. She had to find whoever had plotted this tragedy and make them pay in kind.

And someday, she would rebuild the fallen Ha clan.

To do that, she needed money—and to earn money, she had to trade. But she had no capital, no foundation to start with.

That was why she had pinned her hopes on the Geom clan.

If she could convince them to turn over part of the inn’s profits to her—just as her father once managed their business—she could slowly build the capital she’d need for revenge.

Even if it took years.

“My lady…”

Sorae’s lips trembled as she spoke, her brow furrowing.

She wanted to stop Yeong-won, to tell her that revenge and rebuilding were impossible dreams.

But one look at Yeong-won’s determined eyes, and the words died in her throat.

To strangers, Yeong-won might have seemed a delicate young lady—gentle, refined, soft-spoken.

But beneath that quiet grace was a will like tempered steel. Once she decided on something, she never gave up until she achieved it.

There had been a time, years ago, when a merchant’s apprentice had visited their home and crafted straw shoes for Yeong-won right before her eyes.

Astonished that something useful could be made from mere straw, young Yeong-won had begged the old servants to teach her how to make them too.

But weaving straw shoes was rough work that tore the hands raw. No one dared to let a noble lady try it.

Even so, Yeong-won persisted for three whole months, coaxing and pleading until one old man finally agreed to teach her.

By the time she learned to weave a proper pair, her once-soft hands were full of blisters and cuts.

She had been only nine years old—but not once had she cried or complained.

So when she later declared that she would one day inherit the family’s merchant guild, no one in the household doubted her.

They all knew that Su-nyang would eventually entrust the great Dae-sang Trading Company to Yeong-won.

Not because she was his only daughter of precious blood, but because she possessed the grit and resolve to see any task through to the end.

“…My lady, please don’t worry,” Sorae said softly, gazing at Yeong-won as she leaned against the cave wall. “Whatever you decide to do… it’ll work out. I believe in you.”

Yeong-won gave a faint smile.

Though she had never run a business herself, she had studied countless books and spent nearly a year learning bookkeeping and inn management from her father—preparing to take over one day.

She was intelligent, quick, and insightful. Whatever she set her hand to, she excelled.

Sorae sighed, lightly tapping her own forehead.

Instead of helping my lady, I keep worrying like a fool. Get a grip, Sorae.

“Get some rest,” Yeong-won murmured. “Tomorrow, we must find Jejado.”

“Yes, my lady.”

After wandering the mountain all day and running for half an hour straight, exhaustion weighed heavy on them both.

Sorae had barely promised to stay awake until Yeong-won fell asleep before she herself dozed off instantly.

But Yeong-won remained awake, leaning against the rough stone wall, her weary eyes fixed on the dark forest outside.

Her body ached, her limbs trembled with fatigue, but her mind stayed clear and sharp.

Her father had been one of the most upright merchants in Jo-won—a man of integrity.

He was generous to his subordinates and opened his granaries every year to help victims of famine and disaster.

Her mother had shared his compassion, establishing and running Bosaengwon, a refuge for orphans.

She was a woman of great wisdom and courage, far from the idle noblewomen who spent their lives behind closed doors.

Rather than spoiling her precious daughter, she had raised Yeong-won with strict discipline, fearing that she might grow arrogant.

—Yeong-won, look at these flower shoes. Don’t tell your mother—I hid them away so you can wear them on Dano Day.

—My lord, do you know how many pairs Yeong-won already has? You bought more again? She owns more shoes than she’s ever worn! If you encourage such extravagance, what will she learn?

—Hahaha! My dear, these aren’t just ordinary shoes. You know Master Kim, the cobbler of Unhye? He made these. And I didn’t only buy them for Yeong-won—they’re for you as well.

The memory flickered before her eyes—a warm spring afternoon, sunlight spilling over the tiled eaves, laughter echoing through the open hall.

A deep ache rose from her chest, sharp as bile.

Her lips trembled as she swallowed the grief that clawed its way up.

Once, she had thought those golden days—the gentle warmth, the scent of blossoms, her parents’ laughter—would last forever.

But those days of spring and flowers were gone. Forever.

Who could have done such a thing? Why?

Was it greed—for the immense wealth the Ha clan had accumulated?

Yet there were many rich merchants in Hanseong.

Why them? Why the Ha clan?

Even Wi Jeong-mun, a petty ninth-rank official who barely held a minor government post, had clearly profited from this disaster.

And he was her mother’s own brother.

Yeong-won’s eyes burned red.

Rage and helplessness twisted in her chest.

It enraged her that she had been blind to the shadows swirling around her father and the trading guild.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the fury rising from her throat, but a small, broken sob escaped anyway.

Perhaps, as Sorae had once said, her parents would have only wished for her to live peacefully, untouched by storms and sorrow.

But there was no peace left in her heart—only grief and blood-deep rage.

How could I live quietly, carrying this?

No. She couldn’t.

She would see it through—to the very end.

Even if it cost her her life.

“Jejado?”

Lee Shin opened his half-closed eyes.

He sat cross-legged atop a boulder, chin resting lazily on his hand, looking utterly relaxed.

“Yes. They said they were looking for Jejado,” one of the ghost servants reported.

“Anything else?”

The ragged ghost servant, dressed in a torn jacket, paused to recall before speaking again.

“Before I left, I heard her say, ‘Do you think we’ll make it safely to Jejado?’ That was all.”

Lee Shin’s eyes narrowed slightly.

He didn’t particularly care why that beggar woman wanted to go to Jejado.

What interested him was how she had survived—standing on her own feet—inside a fog born from the restless dead.

“She’s hiding in a cave about eight li from here. Would you like to see for yourself?”

The ghost servant, careful of Lee Shin’s expression, asked in a low voice.

Lee Shin waved a hand dismissively.

At once, the ghostly figures that had spread across the mountain to track the woman began to dissolve, vanishing like smoke.

Left alone, Lee Shin thought back to the filthy beggar.

Her clothes were torn rags, her hair a tangled mess—yet he had recognized at a glance that she was a woman.

Her frame was slender, her height small, her movements refined even in panic. And that voice—soft and clear as a bell—had given her away.

Despite her dirt-streaked face, her delicate features couldn’t be hidden: almond-shaped eyes, a small sculpted nose, lips full and tender. A beauty, unmistakably.

Who was that girl?

Lee Shin tilted his head toward the direction of the cave the ghost had pointed out.

Dawn light had begun to creep over the horizon, scattering the darkness that had blanketed the mountains.

His deliberation was brief.

She was a small, insignificant creature—a minnow swimming against a current.

Whether she made it up the stream or not, it would hardly matter.

If she truly was heading for Jejado, she would cross paths with him eventually.

And if she was too foolish to survive the journey—well, that wasn’t his concern either.

If she dares, let her come.

Stretching his long legs, Lee Shin stepped down

from the boulder and turned his back without hesitation—heading straight toward Jejado Island.