When the west dawns - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A tiny kitten crouched low, eyes glimmering as it focused on a colorful bird nearby. It was the perfect stance — ready to pounce, just like a real hunter. The bird, as if teasing it, tilted its head, showing off its bright feathers.

And then—jump!

Flutter!

The bird flew off by a hair’s breadth, leaving the kitten confused and frustrated, its tail flicking furiously.

Seo Hyo laughed softly, waving a toy with fake feathers attached to a string. The kitten’s eyes sparkled again as it shifted focus to the toy.

“So cute,” murmured Mirang beside her, eyes equally full of delight.

“Do you play with the spirits like this every day?”

“Not always,” Seo Hyo replied, shaking the toy. “When I’m busy, I can’t. But I try to spend time with them whenever I can.”

She smiled faintly. “This is all I can really do for them.”

Mirang gazed at the tiny spirit perched on her finger — a little bird — and smiled gently.

“It must be hard for them, waiting for their owners. But thanks to you, Seo Hyo-nim, they’re not lonely. I’m really glad you’re the Goddess of Lost Things.”

Seo Hyo let out a small, bitter smile.

Cha Eon had said something similar once — not in Mirang’s soft tone, but meaning the same thing. Whenever she lamented that she could only do so little for these lost spirits, he’d remind her that things could’ve been far worse.

If someone else had taken her place — someone careless, who saw the role as a mere duty — countless lost souls might’ve just faded away, trapped and forgotten inside old jars.

“You shouldn’t belittle the value of what you’re doing,” Cha Eon had told her.

It wasn’t perfect comfort… but it was something that steadied her heart when sadness threatened to take over.

“I haven’t been here long,” Mirang said, gently playing with the spirit bird on her finger, “but I really like the atmosphere. It’s quiet, warm… like time just flows peacefully.”

“It is that kind of place,” Seo Hyo agreed softly.

“And there are so many cute spirits too!” Mirang laughed, stroking the bird’s wings. Her youthful joy was infectious — she clearly adored playing with these childlike spirits.

“I wouldn’t mind if it were a little livelier, though,” she added. “Back at Baekogang, there are fish in the river, people visiting the banks, even boats passing by. Oh! And once a year, there’s a festival! We float flower lanterns on the night river and make wishes. It’s so beautiful, it almost makes you sigh.”

Her expression grew dreamy as she talked about her hometown.

Then she pictured herself there with Cha Eon — the thought alone brought a soft blush to her cheeks.

“I thought Cha Eon-nim should come to Baekogang,” she said shyly. “He always looks so lonely. It would be nice if he could be surrounded by people and laughter.”

Ah, there it was again. Lonely, quiet Cha Eon.

Seo Hyo’s expression grew uncertain. She could never get used to that phrase, no matter how often she heard it. Mirang’s image of Cha Eon had been the same since the first day they met.

“I imagined cooking for him, reading books together, holding hands as we walked by the river… He’d smile more and more, I think. That’s the kind of married life I dream about.”

The bird fluttered away. Mirang watched it for a moment, her face glowing with innocent excitement, before turning back to Seo Hyo.

Was it bad that Seo Hyo found that a little… overwhelming?

Mirang spoke of her dreams — of walking beside Cha Eon, of what kind of life they’d have. Her words were filled with color and light.

But in that world Mirang painted so vividly… Seo Hyo wasn’t even a shadow.

There was no bitterness or jealousy — yet something inside her chest felt heavy. Tight, almost like a lump she couldn’t swallow.

Why did it feel so suffocating?

“Anyway, that’s my ideal,” Mirang said brightly.

Seo Hyo wasn’t sure what kind of face she was making, but Mirang suddenly bit her tongue as if realizing she’d gone too far.

“Ah—sorry! I talked about myself too much.”

“No, no. Your story’s fun,” Seo Hyo said with a faint smile.

Mirang beamed. “You really are kind, Seo Hyo-nim.” She tilted her head and asked curiously, “What about you? What’s your ideal partner like? I heard you’ve been waiting to marry for a long time.”

“Ah…”

“You must’ve thought about it — what kind of person you’d like as your match?”

It was a surprising question — and one that left Seo Hyo momentarily speechless.

What kind of man did she want to marry?

She had thought about it before. Someone who wouldn’t scold her awake like Cha Eon, but would gently wait until she got up on her own. Someone kind, patient. Someone who didn’t get angry easily, since she hated fighting.

But also… someone who could handle Cha Eon’s sharp tongue. Someone calm but not easily pushed around.

That was about it.

She had imagined it — but only vaguely, like a daydream she never really believed would come true.

“Well… I think I just want to be happy,” she said finally, embarrassed. “To live… happily, for a long time.”

Mirang’s eyes sparkled. “Oh! Then we’re the same!”

Seo Hyo smiled weakly, though something twisted inside her. When Mirang said they were alike, she wanted to disagree — but couldn’t.

Her mind flickered back to her own hopeful words in the past: This year, I’ll marry for sure. I’ll definitely find my match this time.

Maybe she really wasn’t so different from Mirang after all. Just another woman with soft, fragile dreams.

“Um, Mirang-nim,” Seo Hyo said hesitantly. “Aren’t you… afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“That your dream might not come true.”

Her voice trembled slightly. The thought frightened even her. It was as if something she’d always believed in had quietly cracked.

“You’ve loved Cha Eon for twenty years. But what if he never returns your feelings?”

Mirang blinked, taken aback.

“Wouldn’t that hurt?”

Seo Hyo wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly felt like a child again — afraid that the ground beneath her feet might give way.

Before Mirang could answer, a low voice cut through the air.

“Are you done chatting? Or are you skipping your chores again?”

They both looked up. Cha Eon stood there, staring straight at Seo Hyo — that familiar look of exasperation in his eyes.

“If you don’t finish your work, there’ll be no lunch.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left, leaving behind a faint chill in the air.

What a perfect way to ruin the mood.

Seo Hyo sighed, glaring at his retreating figure. No peace in this house, ever.

“Uuuh…”

She turned and saw Mirang trembling beside her.

“S-Seo Hyo-nim… isn’t he scary?”

“…What?”

“His face! When he frowns like that — it’s terrifying!”

Was she serious?

“Cha Eon? Scary?”

Mirang nodded furiously. “He’s so intimidating! Though when he smiles… oh, that’s heavenly.”

Tears welled up in her big eyes. She wasn’t joking.

“That wasn’t scolding,” Seo Hyo said gently, patting her back. “That was just… nagging. He does it a hundred times a day. You’ll get used to it.”

“I… I don’t think I could ever get used to that. I’ve never been scolded before…”

Seo Hyo stared at her, half amused. What a delicate little flower.

Maybe the river god had made a mistake. That kind of gentle soul should’ve been the goddess of childcare, not water.

“Haha,” Seo Hyo chuckled softly. She’s cute, really.

Truthfully, Cha Eon had never scared her — not once.

She kept comforting Mirang, teasing Cha Eon’s nagging habits just to make her laugh again. Eventually, Mirang relaxed, her eyes bright again.

“Seo Hyo-nim, you’re really comfortable with Cha Eon-nim, aren’t you?”

“I suppose so,” she replied.

“Wow…” Mirang sighed in admiration. “Father once told me — marriage should be with someone who makes you feel that way. Butterflies are nice, but true happiness comes from a calm, steady love… someone you can grow old with peacefully.”

Seo Hyo froze for a second.

That made sense — except for one thing.

She and Cha Eon were already living exactly like that.

They had been growing old together for one hundred and fifty years and thirty-one days now.

Too comfortably, in fact.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Even great river gods make mistakes sometimes,” she muttered to herself.

When Seo Hyo returned to the courtyard later, she was greeted by a dazzling display of fabrics — soft silk, bright cotton, all kinds of cloth spread out under the sun.

The peddler had brought more than just fabric: earrings, jeweled hairpins, bracelets, and cosmetics glimmered on the table.

Seo Hyo blinked. She’d only been gone a short while — how did the yard transform like this?

“Seo Hyo-nim!”

It was Mirang again, sitting across from the merchant, eyes sparkling.

“Come see! Everything’s so pretty!”

And she wasn’t wrong — everything was beautiful.

Seo Hyo examined the fine embroidery and delicate gems. These weren’t trinkets for commoners. The merchant must’ve sold mainly to noble families.

“Do you also sell bridal items?” Mirang asked eagerly.

“Oh my! Such a lovely young lady — already preparing for her wedding?” the peddler laughed, opening a large chest. “You’re in luck — I just happen to have some today.”

He laid out an ornate bridal crown and a crimson veil. Both women gasped softly.

“They’re gorgeous…”

Mirang immediately tried one on. The peddler, used to this kind of thing, held up a mirror.

The light blue and gold accents shone beautifully.

Seo Hyo admired them too, unable to take her eyes off the craftsmanship.

“Which one do you think looks better?” Mirang asked eagerly.

Both crowns were lovely — Seo Hyo couldn’t decide.

But… wait.

“Mirang-nim,” she asked cautiously, “did Cha Eon give you an answer?”

“Not yet. Why?”

Seo Hyo hesitated. “Well, maybe it’s a little early to be picking out bridal things before—”

“Oh! This one’s cute too!” Mirang interrupted, grabbing another crown and, before Seo Hyo could protest, placed it on her head.

“Wha—?!”

“Just for comparison!” Mirang laughed. “It’s hard to tell without seeing it on someone.”

The peddler nodded in agreement — of course, anything to keep her happy.

So there Seo Hyo sat awkwardly, wearing the jeweled crown.

It sparkled — red gems like berries framed with gold blossoms.

“I think that one’s the prettiest,” Mirang said decisively.

The merchant grinned. It was clearly the most expensive.

“Um… can I take it off now?” Seo Hyo asked weakly.

“Wait! Cha Eon-nim!” Mirang called suddenly.

Seo Hyo’s heart skipped a beat.

Cha Eon approached, book in hand, raising an eyebrow.

“Which one looks best, Cha Eon-nim?”

He didn’t reply right away. His gaze landed on Seo Hyo — still wearing the crown.

For a brief, strange moment, he just stared.

Then, slowly, he picked up the crimson veil from the table and draped it over her head.

“Traditionally,” he said calmly, “a bride’s face should be covered like this.”

Under the veil, the world turned red — soft and glowing.

Seo Hyo felt her breath catch.

Then he lifted the veil slightly, light spilling in, and their eyes met.

It lasted only a second — but her heart trembled like the surface of still water.

For a moment, she thought — It feels like I’m really Cha Eon’s bride.

Her cheeks flushed bright red, and she quickly lowered her gaze.

Something inside her chest fluttered — light, warm, and confusingly sweet.

TO BE CONTINUED……