Chapter 17
“You’re a far better guardian than you think, Sir. At the very least, your feelings for the child are sincere, aren’t they?”
Dokgo Ryung’s fierce glare had long since faded. After a brief silence, he finally spoke.
“…I was abandoned in the mountains when I was young. I’ve lived alone ever since.”
He revealed a part of his painful past—something he normally kept buried. Perhaps it was because Pyodu didn’t know his real name or background… or maybe it was just the alcohol.
“I was never treated like family, and yet like a fool, I held onto this stupid hope. But the day I was left behind… I realized I could never be one of them.”
Waaahhh! I’ll be good! I won’t be annoying! Please don’t abandon me…!
He’d cried like that for nearly two days. Then he stayed in that same spot for about a week, hoping—just maybe—someone would come looking for him.
But no one ever did.
“…That must’ve been incredibly hard. Did you ever go back to see them?”
“Once recently. But before that, I deliberately stayed away.”
“Why?”
“I knew I wouldn’t be welcomed. They’d just curse me out. And honestly, staying away was for their sake too.”
Had he gone back when his resentment was burning hottest, he likely would’ve killed everyone in sight.
Though with the clan head being a peak-level master, Ryung would probably have died before he even got close.
Who knows how it would go now.
“I don’t know what a normal family looks like. I’ve never been loved. I’ve never been treated like a person. Can someone like me really raise a child?”
Pyodu said nothing. He simply poured more baekju into Ryung’s empty cup.
“Do you realize… everything you’re saying right now stems from your worry for Sowol?”
Ryung’s hand trembled slightly. Pyodu had struck a nerve Ryung himself hadn’t noticed.
“I’ve seen this before. People who had tough childhoods grow into one of two kinds of adults. Either they turn out just like the parents they hated… or they decide to become someone entirely different. From what I see, Sir, you fall into the second group.”
“…But what if I still end up like the first?”
“Then you remind yourself of what you feel right now. For reference, I know someone who turned out like the second group.”
Ryung’s eyes widened slightly, and after a pause, he asked hesitantly:
“…Is he doing a good job raising his kid?”
“Absolutely. It was hard at first, sure. But he kept trying—feeding the child well, giving them nice clothes, telling them he loved them even when it was tough… and eventually, things changed.”
Ryung, now somewhat sobered, pressed his lips tightly together.
“Go see Sowol. If it looks like she’s adjusting well… stop drinking like this and move on.”
Pyodu clearly saw Ryung’s clenched fists. Smiling slightly, he added:
“But if she’s not adjusting… if you feel like you just can’t leave her behind—then take her back.”
Finally, Ryung’s eyes flickered with life.
Until now, even as he smiled, he’d looked like a man already half-dead. But now, for the first time, he seemed to have found a will to live.
“First things first…”
Pyodu casually snatched the bottle out of his hands.
“You need to sober up. You planning to see her while reeking of booze?”
“…That little brat would definitely nag me for drinking too much.”
The drunken, lazy smile had always been fake—this faint, reluctant smirk was his real one.
“Thanks, Pyodu. I won’t forget this.”
“No need to thank me. I got good food and drink out of it—seems like a fair deal.”
He shook the bottle, teasing, and Ryung chuckled and paid the tab without hesitation before heading out.
“Sir Pyodu, where’s Sir Gwangryong off to?”
“He looked kind of… off. Did something happen?”
“Just a little. But he’s fine now. We’ll have two more people on tomorrow’s convoy—so let everyone know.”
“Oh! He’s joining again?”
“Guess I’ll pick up some sweets before we leave. That little girl was just too adorable.”
The guards chatted excitedly about the upcoming escort mission, and Pyodu smiled quietly as he watched them.
Meanwhile
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
It was the third morning since Eun Sowol had been left in the Dokgo clan’s care.
She sat blankly, her eyes hollow and lifeless.
Her cheeks, which had filled out just a little during recovery, had sunken again.
Seeing this, Dokgo Haeryang offered her a bowl of porridge—but she didn’t even glance at it.
“Sigh…”
He set the spoon down and sighed softly.
“Sweetheart, you need to eat something to get your strength back. If you don’t, you’ll just get sick again…”
“….”
Still no response.
Her darkened eyes, pale lips from the fever, and vacant expression made her look like she had no soul left in her body.
No one could mend the emotional wound she carried.
“Administrator, it’s time to go.”
Haeryang lifted his head at the voice.
He wanted to stay longer—but duty called.
“I’ll leave the porridge here. Eat if you get hungry, okay? If it gets cold, just ask one of the maids nearby to heat it up for you, alright?”
Sowol didn’t respond. She didn’t even turn her head.
He gently patted her hair one last time and left.
Only once the room was quiet did Sowol clench her small fists.
“…Why is that Grandpa being so nice to me?”
Dokgo Ildo hadn’t checked on her once—but Dokgo Haeryang, from the moment they’d met, had treated her with kindness that felt almost guilty.
“…Maybe he’s the weird one.”
Since coming here, nothing good had happened.
She’d gotten sick out of nowhere, most people hated her, and she was expected to adapt to a totally unfamiliar place.
“…I’m getting out of here. No matter what.”
Starting tomorrow, she would think hard about how to escape the clan.
I’m still sick… so I’ll plan once I feel better. I can’t do much like this anyway.
With that thought, Sowol curled into herself and buried her face in her knees.
“Hey, see! I told you she’d be here!”
“Can we really go in? Won’t we get in trouble if someone finds us?”
“Hmph. Like I care what they do.”
Suddenly, the sharp voices of children rang nearby.
Sowol raised her head to look.
Two boys, around her age, were approaching.
Those kids…
She remembered them from the day she’d been introduced to the family.
“Hey, you.”
The older boy sauntered up with a mischievous grin.
“You said you were leaving, right? So why are you still here?”
“Hyung… Mom said she was really sick.”
“So? What’s that got to do with us?”
He shoved his younger brother aside and pouted.
“This is our house. And you said yourself you’re not part of the Dokgo clan. So get out.”
“…Who are you?”
Sowol asked curtly. The two boys looked stunned.
“Y-you don’t know who we are?”
“You don’t know our names?”
We only met two days ago. How the heck would I know, you little punks?
They hadn’t even introduced themselves before they all started arguing. Dokgo Haeryang had told her their names… but she hadn’t bothered to remember.
“My name is Dokgo Wi-pyeong! I’m the heir of the Dokgo clan!”
“I-I’m Dokgo Wi-chan… Hyung, let’s go. We’ll get in trouble if someone sees us.”
Now she remembered—Dokgo Cheonun had two sons. One was seven, the other her age.
“Don’t forget our names this time! How dare a freeloader not even know who we are!”
So that’s why they told her their names. Just another excuse to throw a tantrum.
Sowol felt a headache coming on and rubbed her forehead.
“So what do you want? If you’ve got nothing else to say, then leave. I’m sick.”
“You’re the traitor’s daughter! You shouldn’t be living in our house! If you want to stay, you need our permission!”
“…You should do what we say. My brother’s super strong.”
Dokgo Wi-pyeong blew out his nose and looked down at her smugly.
Usually, when he acted like this, even adult servants lowered their heads.
So of course, this girl would do the same—
“You little brats. Already full of attitude, aren’t you?”
The unfamiliar phrase hit the boys like a slap in the face.
“…What did you just say?”
Dokgo Wi-pyeong blinked in disbelief.
“Brats. Arrogant ones.”
Sowol spat the words out without hesitation.
“You come barging into someone’s room, make a mess, and act like you own the place? What, you think you’re all that just because you were born here?”
“Y-you! Don’t you know who I am?!”
“I do now. Dokgo Wi-pyeong, right? The arrogant bigmouth. And the one behind you is Dokgo Wi-chan, the coward.”
“C-coward…?!”
Wi-chan’s face turned red instantly. Wi-pyeong was already fuming.
“How dare you call us that?!”
“I say what’s true.”
Sowol slowly stood up from her blanket pile. Her small figure, still weak from illness, swayed slightly—but her gaze was fierce and unwavering.
“You guys think you’re strong because the adults back you up. But without them, you’re nothing. Just a couple of punks who get scared when someone fights back.”
“Y-you think you’re so tough just because Grandpa let you stay?!”
“No. I think I’m stronger than you because I don’t cry just from being insulted.”
Wi-pyeong’s expression twisted.
He was used to being treated like a prince. No one ever dared to talk back to him—especially not someone he saw as beneath him.
“I’ll tell my dad you hit me!”
“Did I hit you? Go ahead. Let’s see if anyone believes that from a boy who just barged in and yelled at a sick girl.”
“You—!”
Wi-pyeong stomped forward like he was about to hit her—but Sowol didn’t flinch.
Instead, she took a step closer.
“Go ahead. Try. But if you raise a hand to me, I’ll bite back.”
There was no hesitation in her voice. It was calm, firm—and terrifyingly serious.
Wi-pyeong took one look at her eyes and froze.
That wasn’t a look a five-year-old should have.
That wasn’t a bluff.
She really would bite, claw, and fight until one of them bled.
“…Tch. Let’s go.”
In the end, Wi-pyeong turned on his heel.
Wi-chan, looking torn, glanced at Sowol one last time before trailing after his brother.
As they left, Wi-pyeong yelled:
“You’ll regret this! You’ll be kicked out soon anyway!”
“Looking forward to it,” Sowol called back coolly, not even raising her voice.
Once they were gone, she let out a long breath and plopped back onto her blankets.
“…What jerks.”
Her head was pounding, her throat hurt, and she still had no appetite.
But at least now she knew.
If she let them walk all over her once, they’d never stop.
So she wouldn’t give them that chance again.
Even if it meant being hated, being feared, or being alone—
She would survive.
No matter what.
