From sulsi to myosi – from dusk to dawn – San-gyeong could exist in his true form.

Was it because he was playing the role of a husband in the guise of a complete stranger, someone no one really knew?

During this time, things often felt even more surreal than when he was disguised as Cheong-un.

“It’s me, Hyang-eum. Can I come in?”

“Wait a moment.”

At the sound of her voice outside the door, San-gyeong sat up quickly.

‘I can’t be seen like this. You should get up now.’

‘I don’t care if it’s Hyang-eum…’

‘I have no intention of letting anyone but my wife see me in bed.’

Woo-hye briefly thought he was taking chastity a bit too seriously, but she liked how proper he was and decided to respect his wishes.

“All right. I’ll make sure to tell Hyang-eum to be more careful as well.”

“Thank you.”

He helped Woo-hye sit up against the headboard with a pillow behind her back, then stepped behind the screen where his outer robe hung.

“You may enter.”

Only then did Hyang-eum enter the room. When she noticed San-gyeong adjusting his clothes behind the translucent screen, she quickly turned her head away in confusion.

“My apologies, my lord. I only prepared a basin of water for washing, thinking that only my lady would be here today.”

“It’s all right. Iho is assisting me in the study, so you needn’t worry about me in the future.”

“Understood.”

When San-gyeong saw that Hyang-eum had bowed and was heading for the bed, he naturally slipped into the bathroom.

There was a large folding screen in front of the entrance, so there was no need to hide his face or take any suspicious precautions.

Splash!

San-gyeong splashed cold water onto his face. Only something sharp and cold like that could bring back the tension that had gone slack.

Tap tap!

Just then, there was the sound of someone landing on the roof, followed by a window sliding open—
and Iho dropped down into the room.

Without missing a beat, San-gyeong tossed the damp cloth he had used to dry his face straight at him.

“Why didn’t you give the signal?”

His men took turns guarding the inner quarters, watching for any potential threats while they waited for Pungwoo to appear.

Tonight it had been Iho’s turn. And Iho had made sure that his master had plenty of time alone with his wife.

Inwardly, Iho grumbled.

“I’m the only one who ever works. Always me, alone.”

More than anyone else, Iho was the most dedicated to playing the role of the fake husband.

“Don’t be so uptight, my lord. Even if something happens, we can handle it.”

“Don’t be complacent.”

“Excessive perfectionism ruins plans. You have to stay flexible to deal with unexpected variables.”

San-gyeong understood Samho’s feelings.

The more you talked to Iho, the more irritating he became. He was a smooth talker who always had a clever excuse for any criticism, so it was hard to win against him with words.

At times like this, the only real way to deal with him was Samho’s method – either hit him or curse him and ignore him.

But San-gyeong wasn’t that kind of master.

He just went about his business – his business being to put on the leather mask soaked in medicine.

“What about the sixth prince?”

“He’s staying at Seok’s residence.”

‘A nest of vermin.’

Hearing that the people who posed the greatest threat to Woo-hye were now gathered under one roof, San-gyeong sneered coldly.

If only he could burn it down and rid the world of them, how peaceful that would be.

“Are you going to the shop today?”

As San-gyeong walked towards the study, he glanced at the bridal chamber.

The dreamlike time he had just experienced felt more surreal than real.

“I should.”

He hadn’t forgotten his duty.

***

Meanwhile, Woo-hye found herself humming without realising it.

“You seem to be in a good mood today.”

“You seem to be in a really good mood today.”

Hyang-eum, who was helping her get dressed, seemed to catch the mood as well, her face lit up with a smile.

“I think married life really suits me.”

“Already? It’s only been a few days.”

“You never know with these things.”

“Well… they say you can usually tell after just one night.”

Hyang-eum remembered the sweet atmosphere that had lingered in the bedroom earlier.

How to put it – it had been strangely awkward and uncomfortable, but not entirely unpleasant.

Woo-hye tapped Hyang-eum’s arm gently in mock reproach.

“You’ve gotten cheeky lately.”

“I learned it all from you, milady.”

“Don’t blame me. When have I ever made such sly jokes?”

“Oh dear, so you know they were sly?”

Woo-hye shook her head. She wasn’t quite ready for this kind of banter.

Then, glancing past the open window that Hyang-eum had left ajar, she spoke again.

“The house feels so quiet now that the Sixth Prince is gone. Maybe it’s because those fussy, arrogant maids disappeared with him.”

“Right? They went to the Seok family, didn’t they? With such vulgar types all grouped together, trouble is bound to happen. Don’t you think?”

Woo-hye chuckled, clearly amused at the thought.

At moments like this, Hyang-eum couldn’t help but feel that her mistress had a bit of a villainous streak.

“I’ve already spread bait to lure them out.”

“Good. Now it’s time for the angry Gyu-yeong to do something reckless. How’s that going?”

“I heard she asked for a meal to be prepared, probably because she’s going out. She’ll definitely use the meeting with her second cousin as an excuse to visit Seok.”

Gyu-yeong had a deep-seated victim mentality and couldn’t stand being ignored.

A perfect example of this was how she went after every noblewoman who had once looked down on her – when she was known only as a concubine’s daughter – after she had risen to the status of a legal wife’s child.

If her opponent was more powerful, she’d bite her tongue and quietly nurture her resentment.

But if they were weaker, she’d stop at nothing to strike back.

It was the classic behaviour of someone small-minded and vengeful.

“Let me know when Gyu-yeong leaves.”

“Yes. I’ll be in the guest room boiling the medicine.”

Not long after Hyang-eum left, San-gyeong entered the bridal room.

“I just stopped by before heading out.”

“What? You’re going out?”

“Yes. I plan to return to the shop starting today.”

Ah—

At those words, Woo-hye suddenly remembered something she had momentarily forgotten.

He was in the early stages of “business fever.” At this stage, there was no cure.

‘Should I just let him do whatever he wants since it looks like it’ll fail soon anyway? Or maybe help it fail faster?’

It would be the most cost-effective way. Unfortunately, even if a god of wealth descended, there would be no saving San-gyeong’s shop.

In fact, Woo-hye was right.

San-gyeong had prepared the business to fail from the very beginning, so in that sense everything was going exactly as planned.

As she got up, Woo-hye said.

“I’ll take you to the front gate.”

“Just to the door is enough. Any further than that…”

But his words were suddenly silenced by her fingers lacing through his.

Their body temperatures were drastically different – her slender, cold fingers slipping like snakes between his, sending shivers through him.

She pressed her fingertips firmly against the back of his hand, as if sinking her fangs into her prey.

“Is it because you don’t want me to see you off?”

Her voice, murmuring with a hint of disappointment, was sweet as honey.

Her gaze, resting just below his chin, was clear and innocent – so much so that it was hard to imagine she could harbor any ill will.

If he hadn’t seen her swing a blade at him during their first meeting, he might’ve believed she was nothing more than a gentle and delicate woman.

‘Dan Woo-hye… like a fox.’

In the end, he gave in.

“…Do as you like.”

His voice sounded as if he had resigned himself to fate, and Woo-hye burst into laughter.

“Let’s go, husband.”

It was quite a walk from the inner quarters to the front gate.

If San-gyeong had gone alone, he would have arrived by now – but now they were walking at a slow, leisurely pace, like a couple on a walk.

Since the walk was long, the two exchanged lighthearted small talk along the way.

“What color are you wearing today?”

“Navy blue.”

“The smell of osmanthus seems stronger today. Have you changed your pouch?”

“Yes. If you like it, you can have it.”

“I wasn’t asking for it. I just thought it suits you well, so I was curious.”

San-gyeong chuckled inadvertently.

It was the first time someone had said that a flowery scent suited him.

If it was the smell of blood, maybe – but flowers?

“Why did you just laugh?”

“When did I?”

“I heard you laugh.”

“Did you, now?”

Suddenly, Woo-hye stopped him and grabbed his face.

San-gyeong quickly grabbed her hand, his expression stunned as her bold fingers trailed upwards along his torso.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanted to see for myself if you smiled.”

“This is… not the time.”

“Why not? You let me touch you last time.

‘Because this is Cheong-un’s face now.’

Since she had touched his real face before, she might notice the difference.

But more than that, he didn’t like the idea of her touching Cheong-un’s face.

“At night is fine.”

Hearing that it wasn’t okay now but would be at night made Woo-hye feel like she had been cast as someone with indecent intentions.

‘Unbelievable. You say something like that and you think I won’t listen to you?’

“All right, then. I’ll touch you as much as I like tonight. Until I’m completely satisfied.”

“……”

San-gyeong felt a bit of a headache coming on.

‘She really knows how to choose the most brazen things to say.’

Pffft.

A quiet laugh escaped him.

Iho, who had followed quietly, couldn’t hold back a laugh – and immediately covered his mouth when a cold, sharp look flew his way.

San-gyeong turned his gaze elsewhere, only to stop at a certain point.

From a distance, Gyeon Mujin was staring at him with open hostility.

The hostility was unmistakable.

San-gyeong adjusted his grip on Woo-hye’s hand and continued towards the front gate.

He made a mental note to instruct Iho to stay alert and watch their surroundings closely as they escorted Woo-hye back to the inner quarters.

To make sure no pests tried to attach themselves to her.

***

San-gyeong had said he was going to his shop, but he was actually going somewhere else.

He pushed open the door to Manhyang Tea House – a place with the grand ambition of selling every kind of tea in the world.

Bang!

The tea house, which had been eerily quiet due to its absurdly overpriced menu, received its first customer in ages: none other than San-gyeong himself.

“Welcome to—ah, damn it.”

The shop owner, who had brightened up at the rare sight of a customer, scowled as soon as he saw who it was.

Even the workers in the tea house, recognizing San-gyeong, simply continued with their tasks.

“I really thought it was a real customer. I got my hopes up for nothing.

Ryu Beom-han, the owner of Manhyang Tea House, was part of the advance team sent to Doha ahead of the others to track down Pungwoo. This was the second month he had been running the business.

San-gyeong pulled out a silver coin and tossed it to Beom-han.

Fully immersed in his role as a teahouse owner, Beom-han caught the coin and nodded.

“If you pay, you’re a customer. Would you like a cup of oolong?”

“Forget it. Go to the annex.”

“Hongwon! Bring the cheapest oolong we have to the annex!”

San-gyeong, already familiar with the layout, stepped forward without hesitation.