On the pretext of preparing new engagement gifts, San-gyeong bought everything that looked remotely suitable. Since there were no extra hands to carry everything, he paid each shop extra for same-day delivery.

As a result, there wasn’t a single person in Doha who didn’t know that Woo-hye was getting married.

The people of Doha knew that Woo-hye was the daughter who had been abandoned by her own family. They also knew how poor she was and how she struggled to make ends meet.

From time to time, a grandmother selling vegetables or a butcher’s wife, moved by compassion, would share some food with her.

They didn’t know why, but for years the market stall fees had been frozen. It was Woo-hye’s way of paying them back in Pungwoo’s name.

Anyway, the pitiful young lady now seemed ready to marry a wealthy man and finally enjoy a life of comfort – rumours of this spread like wildfire.

Perhaps it was because her story sounded like something out of a storyteller’s tale, but the people of Doha responded with more than just congratulations – they were genuinely excited.

It seemed to have sparked a kind of inspiration in many of them.

‘It must have been intentional.’

It might have been too much of a conspiracy theory, but Woo-hye decided to trust her instincts.

Still, San-gyeong had treated her well.

‘Although it feels more like a brother trying to please his sister just to avoid being scolded by their parents.’

That day, instead of feeling happy that San-gyeong was spending money on her, Woo-hye felt more like she had become one of his “tasks”.

But Hyang-eum, who had been with her all day, didn’t feel that way.

“Men are so stingy with women they don’t like. But just look – Lord Cheong-un went through practically every high-end shop in Doha just to impress you!”

“Did he?”

“You don’t know because you couldn’t see, but he was staring so hard at the men who were sneaking glances at you! I was so nervous, I thought he might start a fight.”

Hyang-eum sounded like she was suggesting that San-gyeong had been jealous, but Woo-hye didn’t see it that way.

She was sensitive to other people’s emotions – especially those directed at her – and she had felt nothing affectionate from San-gyeong.

‘If anything, he seems more suspicious of me… or even dislikes me.’

Woo-hye let out a quiet, amused breath.

“Well, I don’t know. Even if you say so, I can’t really tell.”

“Of course you can’t. You’ve only ever seen men in that kind of dazed state. But to be honest, falling head over heels the moment they see you is the normal reaction.”

“But Gayu isn’t like that.”

“That’s because he’s not normal.”

Gayu would surely feel terribly wronged if he heard that.

“Anyway, Lord Cheong-un has been out since early this morning and still hasn’t come back. I wonder if he remembers that the wedding is tomorrow.”

When someone starts a business for the first time, they lose sight of everything else. Their thoughts are completely consumed by the business and everything else feels trivial and worthless.

‘A classic early case of ‘business fever’.’

Having made this simple diagnosis, Woo-hye asked,

“Did you hear what he did?”

“I even sent the street children to find out.”

Although Doha had become wealthier, it wasn’t a utopia where everyone lived well.

Only a few years ago, the whole city had been full of beggars. Even now, the poor were more numerous than in other places.

Woo-hye had used Pungwoo’s name to feed the beggars.

And beggars are loyal to those who feed them. Naturally, they had become her eyes and ears, reporting everything that happened in Doha.

“I heard today that Lord Cheong-un has bought raw materials at high prices from merchants and ordered his servants to start brewing all kinds of liquor.

‘At this rate, he could go bankrupt within two months.’

He was following the classic path of wealthy outsiders who knew nothing about running a business. She almost felt sorry enough to give him some advice.

“The wedding is tomorrow.”

Time had passed and it was now the day before the ceremony.

The house was decked out in red for the wedding, the food was overflowing and lanterns lit up every corner. With the increase in people and supplies, a lively, auspicious atmosphere filled the air.

By this time, San-gyeong had completely taken over the household. It was a rather intriguing turn of events.

Nanny Gye had tried to protest several times, but in the end she remained silent, overwhelmed by San-gyeong’s power and authority. She seemed to be on the verge of writing a desperate plea to Seol Mi-hee.

Woo-hye’s vision still hadn’t returned. Perhaps it was due to the paralysis poison she had inhaled during the kidnapping, but the effects had lasted especially long this time.

Still, the silver lining was that she was more emotionally stable than usual.

With the increase in helping hands, Hyang-eum now had more free time to spend at Woo-hye’s side, and their lives had become more comfortable overall.

‘This is why marriage is called one of the great rites of passage.’

The addition of another person to the household had brought a great change to Yeonmowon’s once repetitive, unchanging daily life.

“Oh, right. The wedding dress is still here, right?”

“Of course. It’s hanging on the clothes rack.”

Across from where Woo-hye sat, a modestly designed red bridal gown was neatly spread out and hung.

“From tomorrow, you’ll be living in the main house. What do you think, my lady?”

The main house. It had once been too dangerous for her to even consider setting foot there.

More than the danger, there had been a bigger problem: the heating costs.

To heat such a large room would require an enormous amount of charcoal.

And it wouldn’t just be charcoal – she’d need many times more winter clothing than she had now.

“I am not really sure. But I think it’s a relief. It would be too much to share this room with the young master.”

The day they had gone to the marketplace together, Woo-hye had been held in his arms and had walked all the way, clinging to his arm.

She’d gotten a vague idea of how tall San-gyeong was.

It would be hard to share this cramped little room with such a huge man.

“Well, yes. If you were to lie down next to Lord Cheong-un, this bed wouldn’t be nearly big enough.”

“Hyang-eum.”

Woo-hye called her name reproachfully, sensing the cheeky undertone in her blunt remark.

But Hyang-eum, who was six years older than Woo-hye, wasn’t of an age to blush at the mere mention of a married couple sharing a bed.

“You have no idea how well the main house is furnished. The bedding is so soft – you’ll sleep like a dream tomorrow.”

Knowing that Hyang-eum was teasing on purpose, Woo-hye let out a helpless laugh.

Sharing a bed and all that – she wasn’t interested, nor had she ever really thought about it. It still felt like someone else’s story.

Just then one of the newly hired maids came to announce,

“My lady, the carriage is ready.”

“Good. I’ll be right out.”

After carefully checking the hair ornament she had placed in Woo-hye’s hair, Hyang-eum stepped back.

“All done. I’ll get your coat now.”

Woo-hye touched her hair gently.

Where once there had been only a single wooden hairpin, her hair was now adorned with elegant mother-of-pearl ornaments that beautifully complemented the soft damask-coloured dress she was wearing.

The accessories were so delicately crafted that she couldn’t even guess their shape by touch, which only made her more curious to see what they looked like.

“My lady.”

At Hyang-eum’s call, Woo-hye picked up the stick she had placed beside her.

She put on a cloak that was too thick for spring and went to the front gate. Someone greeted her cheerfully.

“Good day, my lady! Oh, wait – is it already past noon?”

‘That was Iho’s voice.’

She was about to greet him when Iho continued before she could answer.

“Oh, my goodness! Is that the outfit our young master gave you? The outfit is truly honoured today! Now that you’re wearing it, it looks like something from the royal court!”

Woo-hye let out a small laugh.

It wasn’t a particularly funny comment, nor was she someone who liked this kind of flattery – but somehow Iho radiated a strange sense of familiarity.

‘Iho seems unusually kind to me.’

It wasn’t the sticky, uncomfortable attention she usually got from men – it was more like the light, refreshing feeling of chatting with a close friend. And it made her feel really good.

“You’re full of energy today, Iho. It’s nice to see.”

“Haha! I often hear that. That’s why the young master likes me so much!”

Hyang-eum shot Iho a look that clearly said, “What kind of person says something like that out loud? To boast that your master favours you – that was shameless.”

She had never seen anyone with such a thick face, and it was astonishing.

On the other hand, Woo-hye was quietly impressed.

‘Just like before… he reads the room well. And he knows how to steer things in the direction he wants.’

Even now, she didn’t feel any resistance as Iho naturally took the lead in the conversation.

At first glance, he might seem frivolous – but when you looked closer, it was clear that he was adept at navigating social dynamics.

‘Almost like someone who’s been trained for it.’

It was quite an impressive talent.

Talented people don’t come easy. The more talented they are, the more selective they are about who they serve.

‘This means that Cheong-un himself must be quite exceptional.’

To have kept someone of that calibre in his household was quite a significant move.

‘Iho would complement Cheong-un’s brusque personality better than Samho, so he’d be more useful in preparing a deal. But Cheong-un chose Samho instead.’

There were usually two main reasons why someone would leave behind a socially adept and strategically minded subordinate.

One: they were involved in shady deals and wanted to disrupt things internally.

Two: they were trying to gather information.

‘Or possibly both.’

She found herself genuinely curious as to what Cheong-un’s true intentions might be.