When the west dawns - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Mirang let out a quiet, nervous sigh. Though the three of them had gone out for a walk together, Cha Eon said he had something to discuss privately. Seo Hyo nodded hesitantly and followed the neighborhood’s spotted puppy instead.

Cha Eon’s gaze lingered on his young lady, who was now laughing and playing with the dog.

From the very first day until now, he had been the same—steady, unwavering.

Mirang knew.
There was no way not to know.

Even in her youth, she could see it clearly—the firm resolve in Cha Eon’s eyes. The only one pretending not to notice had been herself.

Sometimes, when they were alone, he would ask her why she was still here.
“Mirang, you are young, yes. But you’re not foolish. You know the answer is clear. So why are you still here?”

And once, he had asked her directly, his eyes filled with emotions he never showed to Seo Hyo:
“Is my behavior… too lacking to convey my feelings properly?”

Mirang hadn’t been able to say anything. She had only mumbled that she was tired and wanted to rest before hurriedly leaving.

The truth was simple.

No matter how much she tried to dress it up—calling it loyalty, affection from long years together—her conscience refused to agree.

You know it too, don’t you? You’ve always known.

Cha Eon’s smile… isn’t for you.

His smile, as gentle and radiant as it was, always belonged to Seo Hyo. Even when it looked like he was smiling at you, his gaze was always fixed on her.

Even when his back was turned to her, his heart was always reaching toward one person.

And that—
that was the kind of devoted love Mirang had always dreamed of.

Everything she had ever wished to find in the man she would one day meet… already existed within Cha Eon.
He had nothing left to give anyone else—because all of him was already Seo Hyo’s.

Cha Eon finally spoke. “You already know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

Mirang quietly nodded.

“Go home.”

The words were the same ones she had heard countless times before.

“You have no plans to marry me, nor anyone else. And the man who stood in front of that grave wasn’t you.”

He said nothing—but his silence confirmed it all.

The sound of bright laughter reached them. Mirang turned her head toward it. Seo Hyo was cheerfully fending off the puppy trying to lick her face. Feeling the weight of both their gazes, she looked back curiously—wondering what they were talking about—but instead of coming over, she just kept playing.

She was respecting Cha Eon’s wish to speak privately.

Mirang felt both grateful and a little envious. If she were Seo Hyo, she would’ve run over out of curiosity by now.

But there was one thing Mirang couldn’t understand.

If Cha Eon kept pushing away everyone who approached them, why wouldn’t he take Seo Hyo’s hand instead?

He clearly wanted her to come closer—but he himself never took that first step. On the contrary, it was as if some invisible taboo stopped him from showing too much affection.

When Mirang’s father had finally given permission, she had rushed straight to confess to him. She couldn’t understand why Cha Eon, who was so steadfast, would not.

Still, she never found the courage to ask.

Instead, she said softly, “There are many things I want to ask you, but I won’t. I’ll just listen to what you have to say.”

That was her way of saying she would go home.

At last, Cha Eon looked at her. For once, she met his eyes and gave him her brightest smile.

“I was curious about the man who visited that grave. I couldn’t bring myself to approach you at first, so I just watched from afar… until my patience ran out. When I finally asked around, they told me your name was Cha Eon, and that you worked in an apothecary.”

This might be the last time she could speak with him like this. She wanted to leave no regrets.

“At the time, you looked so lonely. I imagined you must be kind, warm, and unable to forget someone precious. I thought… maybe I could be the warmth you were missing.”

She gave a faint, wistful smile.

“But it turns out I was only imagining it all.”

Cha Eon stayed silent. Mirang clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

She remembered once hearing that when you feel small, when you feel like shrinking away—take a deep breath. She didn’t want to shrink now.

This wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

Admitting your mistake takes courage.
Telling someone you love that you’re finally letting go takes even more.

Mirang steadied her gaze.

“There must be another man named Cha Eon working in the apothecary.”

Cha Eon frowned slightly.

“I can’t say for sure,” Mirang continued. “Maybe my information was wrong. But when I saw you walking into the apothecary with Seo Hyo, I just knew. My whole body went still. Without even thinking, I called out, ‘Cha Eon!’ for the first time.”

“It wasn’t me,” he said firmly.

Mirang looked up at him and smiled. “Yes. You’re right—it wasn’t you.”

Now she could finally say it properly.

“Even if it were the same person, the Cha Eon I loved back then and the one standing beside me now are completely different. I fell for a version of someone that existed only in my imagination. The person I loved… was never really you. So yes, you’re a different person.”

For the first time, Mirang smiled like a true adult.

It hurt—deeply so—but something inside her had quietly grown.

This wasn’t the beautiful ending she’d dreamed of, yet somehow… something had changed.

“I like Seo Hyo,” she said as she stepped ahead of him. “I’m really glad that it’s her standing next to you.”

Then she ran toward Seo Hyo and the puppy. The dog barked and leapt up happily to greet her.

She’d cried enough in front of him. For her final goodbye, she wanted to smile.
So she hid her teary eyes and walked forward.

The puppy’s wet tongue brushed her cheek—soft, warm, and comforting.

“What?”

Seo Hyo blinked, sure she had misheard. It wasn’t like her ears were clogged, but the words didn’t seem real.

“Could you say that again?”

The messenger cleared his throat. “Greetings, Lady Seo Hyo. I serve Lord Dam Nyeong of Baekogang, and—”

“No, no, not that part. After that.”

“I’ve come to escort Lady Mirang home—”

“No, after that!”

The messenger fumbled. “The master and mistress have been waiting anxiously for their daughter—”

“Yes! That part! After that!”

“…And her betrothed has also been worried sick, so we must leave at once.”

There it was.

Seo Hyo’s eyes widened in shock as she turned to Mirang. Her neck went stiff. Even Cha Eon beside her looked stunned.

“Mirang… you have a fiancé?!”

Mirang blinked her clear, glass-like eyes and smiled shyly.

That’s not something to giggle about!

“I was betrothed about twenty years after I was born. He’s my father’s friend’s son—two hundred years older than me! He’s treated me like a child from the start.”

Mirang pouted. “But if we’re talking about looks, Cha Eon wins by far!”

“That’s not the point…” Seo Hyo groaned, rubbing her forehead. Just when she thought things couldn’t get stranger, they did.

“I kept singing Cha Eon’s praises so much that my father finally said I could come visit once,” Mirang added proudly.

“Your father?”

“Both my father and my fiancé.”

“…Great.”

Seo Hyo’s headache worsened. Apparently, Baekogang’s god and this centuries-older fiancé treated Mirang like their precious little jewel.

The servant hesitated. “Then, Lady Mirang, shall we depart soon?”

Seo Hyo tried to suggest resting for a while, but the servant politely refused. “We’ll travel by waterway, so it won’t take long.”

Waterway.
That word didn’t sound reassuring at all.

“How exactly?” Seo Hyo asked warily.

“Oh, we’ll go to the nearest river and sail from there. Since we control the waters, we move several times faster than ordinary people with horses.”

Before Seo Hyo could even ask how fast, the servant cheerfully added, “It’ll take about six days, at most.”

“Six… days?” she echoed faintly.

Seo Hyo had thought Mirang walked all the way from Baekogang—a journey that would’ve taken a month. To think she could’ve just sailed here in less than a week… all that worry felt strangely pointless now.

Cha Eon’s lips twitched in amusement. He’d told her not to fuss so much over Mirang, and now his smug expression said, See? I was right.

So irritating.

Seo Hyo buried her face in her hands and let out a groan.

“Lady Seo Hyo, are you all right?” Mirang and the servant looked worried.

But Seo Hyo only felt the weight of every exhausting thought since the day Mirang first walked into the apothecary melting away like petals in the wind.

“Ughhh!” she cried dramatically, collapsing forward onto the table.

The Baekogang servants could only sigh with concern.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Mirang’s servant said with a polite bow, handing Seo Hyo a bottle of fine wine from Haeju as a parting gift.

Then, carrying Mirang’s luggage, he walked toward the gate.

“Lady Seo Hyo, thank you for not turning me away. Thanks to you, I had such fun staying here.”

She looked bright and cheerful now, as if she’d erased all the tears and heartache Cha Eon had caused her.

Seo Hyo watched her bow politely to Cha Eon. Her eyes still sparkled with admiration—but her smile this time was calm, mature.

“Thank you, Cha Eon. I wish you happiness and peace.”

“Travel safely,” he replied.

Mirang nodded. “Then, goodbye.”

Dressed in the same water-blue outfit as the day she first arrived, with sky-colored ornaments in her hair, she looked almost like she’d stepped back in time.

The apothecary’s door opened and closed. The noise faded. Only Seo Hyo and Cha Eon remained, and the quiet was so deep she could hear the birds outside again.

“What just… happened?” she murmured.

Cha Eon’s voice brought her back. “Lady Mirang seems to have forgotten something.”

“Huh?”

He held up a small, round fan—barely palm-sized, with cute drawings painted on it. “She bought this at the market last time.”

Seo Hyo took it immediately. “She can’t have gone far—I’ll return it!”

But Mirang and her servant were surprisingly fast. Seo Hyo caught up with them only near the edge of the village.

Mirang’s face lit up when she saw the fan. “Oh, I did leave it behind! Thank you!”

Seo Hyo smiled and handed it over.

As Mirang twirled it happily in her hand, Seo Hyo hesitated, then spoke softly.

“Will you… be all right?”

Even if she hadn’t mentioned her fiancé, Seo Hyo knew Mirang’s feelings for Cha Eon had been real. She couldn’t help but worry.

Mirang blinked, then gave a small, calm smile.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Of course, I’ll probably complain to my servant the whole way, cry into my pillow at night, and feel gloomy for a long time once I’m home. But eventually… I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve loved him for twenty years,” Seo Hyo murmured.

“That’s a long time for humans,” Mirang replied. “But not wasted time.”

She smiled again.

“I was happy, you know. Even though I couldn’t be with him, I was still glad to love him. The joy, the fluttering feelings, the dreams I had—all those years weren’t meaningless. They were beautiful. Even if the man I loved wasn’t truly him, that doesn’t make the happiness I felt disappear.”

Her voice was clear, her words mature beyond her years.

“Happy memories have meaning just because they existed.”

The words echoed softly inside Seo Hyo’s heart.

Happy times are meaningful—just by being happy.

Maybe even the river god of Baekogang would be surprised. The Mirang who had once arrived as a naïve girl was now leaving as someone who’d taken a true step forward.

After a moment of thought, Mirang added one last thing.

“Lady Seo Hyo, I’ve been thinking… the man who stood in front of that grave—it probably wasn’t Cha Eon.”

“What?”

“Cha Eon said so from the start, but I didn’t believe him. Now I think he was right. The person I saw was dressed completely differently. He looked like a nobleman—his deep violet robe had silver embroidery, with a wing pattern on the hem. It was beautiful.”

She sighed softly, remembering it.

“But Cha Eon doesn’t dress like that. He always wears simple robes. I even snuck into his room once under the excuse of delivering laundry—he had nothing like that. No jewelry, no ornaments.”

“…You went into his room?” Seo Hyo muttered.

“Hehe, sorry! But yes, I must have mistaken someone else for him. So, Lady Seo Hyo—please, cherish him well.”

And with that, Mirang followed her servant away.

Seo Hyo stood frozen. Cherish him? Why should she?

But before she could say anything, something about Mirang’s words tugged at her memory.

A purple robe. Silver embroidery. Wing pattern on the hem.

She had seen that once—long ago.

That night, when she had woken up to find Cha Eon standing outside her room.

“Didn’t you say you were asleep?”

“I was. I just got up for a drink of water. It’s chilly—please, go inside.”

She hadn’t thought much of it then. But now that she remembered… his clothes that night had matched Mirang’s description exactly.

“The problem is,” Seo Hyo whispered, “that was before Mirang was even born.”

The realization sent a shiver down her spine.

And so, Seo Hyo stood in the middle of the path for a long, long time—utterly unable to make sense of the truth that was beginning to unfold.

TO BE CONTINUED…..