When the west dawns - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Seo Hyo dropped into a chair at the outdoor café as if her legs had lost all strength. The waiter hurried over, took her order, and barely disappeared inside before returning with a tray of dishes. It was time for sweet snacks and tea.

Without even catching her breath, she downed a full glass of cold water in one go, exhaling in relief as life seemed to return to her body. She took a sip of the tea that Cha Eon poured and bit into a white bean-filled pastry.

Thank goodness for the cool autumn breeze.

“You didn’t have to trouble yourself like this,” Cha Eon said flatly.

“If you hadn’t stopped me that day, that man would be dead by now. You wouldn’t have to wander around under the blazing sun, and we’d all be much happier.”

Seo Hyo swallowed her bite with another sip of tea.

“That’s exhausting just to hear. Still, thanks for coming with me, Cha Eon. But stop talking about killing people.”

“The one who lost something should be the one to find it.”

“You’re not wrong,” she sighed.

“Then let’s just go home. I bet the last place will be another waste of time. It’s almost as if that bastard’s ghost is playing tricks on us.”

Seo Hyo lifted her plate, with only two pastries left.

“Once I finish this, I’ll feel better. Let’s visit the last house after something sweet, okay?”

“I’m not a child, you know.”

Cha Eon gave her a sideways glance.

“Do you not think the last few days have been too rough to smooth over with sweets?”

It all began with Ga Gongja.

He had come to her when she was alone, holding out a list. He said he’d narrowed down the places where they might find evidence.

When Seo Hyo asked why he didn’t go himself, he snapped that one of her servants had injured him and that he couldn’t move easily. Indeed, there had been a dark bruise around his neck — so convincing that she hadn’t dared to argue.

It almost felt like she’d become the mother of a troublesome child. Apparently, Cha Eon had been too persuasive; anyone who saw that bruise might’ve thought Ga Gongja had tried to hang himself.

The list contained ten places.

Some of them were so far away and remote that she couldn’t go alone even if she wanted to. Naturally, Cha Eon refused to let her wander off by herself.

It had been five days now. Only one place remained.

“If we don’t find anything there, you mustn’t run off to kill Ga Gongja, alright?”

“I don’t even know his address,” Cha Eon muttered with a scoff, taking a sip of water.

That was, admittedly, the smartest thing Ga Gongja had ever done — not revealing where he lived.

After finishing her snack, Seo Hyo got up and headed toward the last location. The two stopped in front of a simple, ordinary house — not rich, but not shabby either.

Maybe this time they’d finally find something.

She fixed her clothes and reached out to knock. But before her knuckles even touched the gate, it swung open with a loud bang.

“You wicked little girl!”

A young lady had grabbed a twelve-year-old girl by the ear and threw her outside. The girl didn’t fall — the lady wasn’t that strong — but she stood there, trembling, unable to meet her accuser’s eyes.

“Already acting like a sly fox at your age!”

The child didn’t even defend herself. She just bit her lip, holding back tears.

“I told you to clean, and you were lying down in my father’s room! I shouldn’t even call you a servant girl; that’s too generous for the likes of you!”

“Uh, excuse me…”

Unable to stand the one-sided scolding any longer, Seo Hyo stepped forward.

The young lady froze, startled to see someone else there — then her eyes widened when she noticed the man standing quietly behind Seo Hyo.

“Hello, miss,” Seo Hyo said politely. “I’m the owner of Baekhwa Apothecary. I came to ask you about something…”

“Oh my,” the lady murmured faintly.

Seo Hyo continued carefully, but soon wondered if the lady was even listening. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, her cheeks slowly flushing red.

“Miss?”

“Yes,” she replied dreamily.

Seo Hyo waved a hand in front of her face. Normally, anyone would be offended by such rudeness — but instead, the lady just smiled softly.

Seo Hyo glanced behind her. There was only one person there — Cha Eon, stoic as always, the picture of calm indifference.

Maybe bringing him was a mistake.

Sure, the lady’s guard was down, but now talking to her felt like speaking to a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Seo Hyo cleared her throat. “Miss, may I ask you something? Do you recognize this hairpin?”

She unfolded a paper sketch. Pretending it was something her butler desperately wanted to find, she watched the lady’s eyes flicker with interest.

The lady studied the drawing with great enthusiasm — only to frown regretfully.

“I’m afraid I don’t know it.”

Disappointing, but the lady looked even more regretful than Seo Hyo herself, as if she desperately wanted to be helpful.

Just then, a small, timid voice spoke.

“U-um, miss…”

It was the little girl, forgotten until now. She almost called Seo Hyo unni before quickly correcting herself to miss, which said enough about her status in the household.

“I finished the cleaning like you told me. I was about to leave, but the master said I could rest for a moment… I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t refuse him. I only sat down for a little while, and then… I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m sorry…”

Her frail fingers twisted her skirt nervously.

“You sleep all night and still doze off during the day?!” the lady snapped.

It wasn’t just anger — it was jealousy, bitterness, and something deeper.

Seo Hyo felt a strange chill. That look in the lady’s eyes… she’d seen it before somewhere.

The girl whispered something — too soft for even Cha Eon to hear — but whatever it was, it completely shattered the lady’s composure.

“Don’t make me laugh! You think I’d ever care for you?!” the lady shouted, her voice trembling with rage — and pain.

“No matter what you do, I’ll never accept you as my sister! You shameless thing!”

Cha Eon shifted, clearly ready to leave, but Seo Hyo couldn’t move. Her whole body felt frozen.

“Even if the sun rises in the west tomorrow, I’ll never forgive you!”

Her vision blurred.

And then — she fell.

Seo Hyo could feel her body collapsing, but couldn’t move a muscle. Before she hit the ground, Cha Eon caught her in his arms.

His usually calm face was filled with alarm.

“My lady,” he called softly.

Her eyes were open, but her vision was dim, unfocused. She could hear him but couldn’t answer.

Her body trembled as if she were sinking into an endless swamp.

“You’re freezing… What’s happening?”

He felt her pulse, rubbing her arms to warm her, but her skin was cold as ice.

Seo Hyo wanted to cry — her body wouldn’t obey her. It felt like being trapped under an invisible weight. With all her willpower, she clenched her fist so tightly her nails dug crescent marks into her palm.

Slowly, she began to move again. Her breathing eased, her vision cleared.

“Ugh…”

She groaned and touched her forehead, wincing. What just happened? It was as if all her strength had been drained away in an instant.

Both the lady and the girl were staring at her, wide-eyed.

So embarrassing. She must look like some fragile woman who faints for no reason.

As she regained awareness, she realized she was still in Cha Eon’s arms — and blushed furiously.

“Put me down, Cha Eon. Everyone’s staring.”

“And you still tell me not to kill that man?”

“What does this have to do with Ga Gongja? Wait—at least let me…”

“Stay still.”

Ignoring her protests, Cha Eon lifted her and started walking.

“As soon as we get home, I’m giving you medicine.”

“Medicine? No! It’s bitter and gross! That’s for humans, not for me!”

“If you say one more word, I’ll carry you over my shoulder.”

Seo Hyo immediately shut her mouth.

He was furious — she could tell. It wasn’t just irritation; it was worry disguised as anger.

So, she let him carry her all the way home like some tragic heroine, despite the curious stares from everyone passing by.

Still… being carried like this was a bit much.

“I-I wouldn’t mind being carried on your back instead,” she mumbled.

Cha Eon shot her a glare cold enough to freeze water. Seo Hyo shut her mouth again, eyes squeezed tight. It was best not to argue.

If only he were good at something other than housework and strangling people, she thought gloomily. Maybe then, this walk of shame would end faster.

“Cha Eon, water.”

“Cha Eon, it’s not cold enough.”

“Cha Eon, can you add honey?”

“Cha Eon, there’s something hard under my blanket.”

From the day she returned home, Seo Hyo had been confined to her bed like a patient.

Aside from a short nap that felt like being half-dead, she couldn’t leave her room. And every few hours, Cha Eon made her drink his horribly bitter herbal concoction.

By the second day, her patience was gone.
By the third, she started scheming.

From dawn till night, she kept calling, “Cha Eon, Cha Eon…” with increasingly ridiculous demands. She hoped he’d eventually surrender and tell her she could move around again.

But his persistence was beyond imagination.

Nearly a week passed before he finally spoke something that wasn’t “yes, my lady.”

“Cha Eon, I—”

“My lady,” he interrupted coldly. “Are you… perhaps pregnant?”

Pffft!

The juice she’d been sipping sprayed out in a glorious fountain. Thankfully, it only drenched the blanket — not his face.

He wasn’t joking.
Cha Eon never joked.

“W-why would you think that?” she stammered.

“You’ve been craving sweet, sour, and cold things all day, and you’ve been unusually sensitive. Not to mention, you fainted for no reason. It’s strange.”

“I told you, I just got dizzy from the heat!”

She pushed her juice aside before another accident could happen.

She wasn’t pregnant — just bored and restless. The sweetness was comfort, the coldness a reprieve from being wrapped in layers of blankets by her overprotective butler.

He only sighed, unimpressed. “Autumn’s long over, my lady.”

Then, through clenched teeth: “We’ll say we found the hairpin. The moment he comes to claim it, I’ll snap his neck.”

Seo Hyo imagined Ga Gongja’s neck cracking in Cha Eon’s grip and winced.

“I told you, no killing,” she sighed. “And no, I’m not pregnant. I just felt dizzy, that’s all.”

Cha Eon’s eyes softened — barely. “You say that, but you’re pale as ever.”

“Don’t worry, Cha Eon.”

“How can I not?”

He looked at her — so delicate, like she might vanish into air. If she suddenly turned into petals and fluttered away, he wouldn’t even know how to stop her.

Her presence felt fragile, like the faint thread connecting her to this world could snap at any time.

“If you keep this up,” she murmured, smiling faintly, “I’ll start getting spoiled.”

“As much as you like,” he replied softly.

“Oh? Don’t tempt me. If you’re being this nice, I’ll take full advantage. I’ll order you around like old times!”

He smiled faintly, knowing she was only trying to lighten the mood.

“If someone overheard, they’d think I’m the one treating you like a servant.”

“Of course you are. ‘Grind these herbs,’ ‘package that,’ ‘do this,’ ‘do that’—you’re a cruel taskmaster, you know?”

He sighed, but said nothing.

Finally, he told her, “If you drink the medicine today, you can start walking around tomorrow. Maybe even play with those noisy little spirits in the medicine chest — they’ve missed you.”

She blinked, expecting him to pinch her cheek again, but instead, his hand rested gently on her head.

His palm was warm. Comforting.

Seo Hyo smiled softly.

Being cared for by Cha Eon… felt nice.

TO BE CONTINUED…..