Chapter 11. Morning at the Servants’ Quarters

Chairman Kang’s silence dragged on.

The longer it lasted, the deeper Gwon-ha’s suspicion grew. He brushed the pear blossom petal from his hand, his gaze darkening as he stared into the distance.

At the end of that gaze lay the pitch-black silhouette of Ihwado-ga.

“Chairman, I could find out myself if I wanted to, but I’m asking you out of courtesy.”

Despite his arrogant tone, Kang Ho said nothing. There was clearly some kind of connection between the two of them.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t a story the chairman could share with his grandson. And even if Gwon-ha tried to dig, the chances of uncovering the truth were slim.

If Kang Ho, the head of Daeseong Brewing, had deliberately buried something, it would stay buried.

The thought of that hidden story made Gwon-ha itch with curiosity.

‘Should I try poking again?’

His mind started spinning faster as his deductive instincts kicked in. Just then, Kang Ho cleared his throat over the line.

[It’s an old connection. You don’t need to know the details.]

“Then does that mean she knows I’m your grandson?”

[…No. She doesn’t.]

This is ridiculous.

Even pretending not to know has its limits.

Gwon-ha flicked the half-smoked cigarette to the dirt and ground the ember under his shoe with an irritated twist.

“You know this doesn’t make sense, right? People here practically break out in hives just hearing the name Daeseong Brewing.”

[…]

“Yet you expect me to believe they took in Kang Ho’s only grandson during the time of year they’re most wary of outsiders? That doesn’t add up, Chairman.”

[…]

“You’re really saying you had absolutely no hand in her decision to let me in?”

He spoke each word deliberately, with emphasis.

His logical attack was met by more silence.

“That silence was my answer. I’ll find out myself then.”

[That’s a promise between her and me.]

Kang Ho’s voice carried the weight of a stern warning.

[This is something you don’t need to know, and shouldn’t try to. Focus only on why you’re at Ihwado-ga. You haven’t forgotten your real objective, have you?]

He drew a clear line in the sand. But that only fueled Gwon-ha’s curiosity further.

‘I can figure it out while I’m here anyway.’

He decided to let it go for now. Pulling his gaze away from Ihwado-ga, he answered lightly.

“Of course. I haven’t forgotten.”

White petals swirled in the night breeze, catching his eye again. A moment ago, that hand had held a cigarette. Now it reached out like a child trying to catch falling snow.

“By the way, you haven’t forgotten our agreement, right?”

[What agreement?]

“You promised me 3% just for getting in. You said it yourself this afternoon.”

[…Who said I forgot.]

At the chairman’s curt reply, Gwon-ha chuckled low.

“Right. You’re not the type to go back on your word.”

Finally, he caught a petal. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled deeply. The sweet scent felt like the trophy of a small victory.

The fragrance wrapped softly around his senses, bringing back the image of that woman once again.

“Then, I’ll look forward to it.”

The moment the light of obsession flickered to life in his eyes, it reflected on the delicate petal in his hand.

* * *

5 a.m. at the servants’ quarters.

The cool dawn air settled gently on the wooden floor of the main hall.

As if he’d set an alarm, Gwon-ha’s eyes opened at exactly 5 a.m. He pushed his blanket aside and slowly sat up, stretching. His neck cracked as he tilted it from side to side.

“Wow, I slept without even dreaming.”

And on such a hard floor too.

He’d slept on a thin blanket laid over bare floorboards, yet his body felt surprisingly refreshed.

It amazed him how quickly he adapted. Usually, he found it hard to sleep anywhere that wasn’t home, especially with Secretary Shin sleeping beside him.

Yet last night, the moment his head hit the pillow, he’d drifted off. The gentle blend of yeast and pear blossom fragrance in the air had worked like a sleep aid.

Looking around the ocher-walled room with a dazed face, he muttered,

“This place is seriously weird.”

Just like Joo Do-ah. Nothing here was ordinary.

‘Did she sleep well?’

I wonder if her ankle’s okay.

Even his morning thoughts led straight back to her face.

“Something’s seriously wrong with me.”

Snoooore—

Shin’s loud snoring chimed in right after his words.

Gwon-ha’s eyes narrowed at the man scratching his belly beside him.

“Secretary Shin, time to get up.”

“Snoooore.”

When Shin showed no sign of waking, Gwon-ha leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “Secretary Shin. Wake up.”

A mischievous smile tugged at his lips. That was the warning shot. Next would be…

“Secretary Shin!”

“Huuh! Yes, yes, yes!”

Shin bolted upright like he’d been electrocuted, dropping to his knees in one motion. Wiping the dried drool from the corner of his mouth, he blinked rapidly.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I… I’m sorry. I should’ve woken up first.”

“If you slept well, that’s all that matters. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Even at the joke, Shin remained kneeling stiffly. Gwon-ha didn’t care and stood up first.

“Dong-hun, can you grab me a change of clothes? I just crashed last night. I feel gross.”

“Yes, sir, Executive Director.”

“Title.”

“Ah, right. Yeah, Gwon-ha. I’ll be quick!”

Blurring formal and informal speech, Shin sprang up and dashed out.

Leisurely rising, Gwon-ha followed and stepped out onto the porch.

The morning after gaining an extra 3% felt nothing short of perfect. He’d slept well, the air was crisp, and he was 3% closer to the successor’s seat. He was practically humming.

“Let’s start with a shower. I’m sure there’s hot water.”

It was shaping up to be a good morning. He had no idea what would happen in just fifteen minutes.

* * *

4:30 a.m.

Do-ah walked briskly across the frost-kissed courtyard blanketed in pear blossoms.

As always, she stopped by Yeweol Storage first. After checking the temperature and humidity inside the storage, she headed to the yeast room.

Yeast was the most important ingredient in brewing. For a farmer, it was like growing seeds.

Click—

The moment she opened the door, her brows knit tightly.

The sweet scent that should have filled the room felt oddly dry. When she inhaled, the tip of her nose picked up not honeyed notes, but cold earth.

“They were told not to let the fire go out…”

The night watchwoman, Sumi ajumma, must have dozed off.

Ignoring the throbbing in her ankle from last night, Do-ah ran to the firewood shed. She grabbed oak instead of pine, knowing pine resin would seep into the yeast and ruin the aroma.

As she brushed off the sawdust, she recalled Eun-ja’s words.

—A single degree of temperature can affect the flavor of a brew for a whole year. Remember that the warmth of the hands making the yeast and the temperature of the room where it ferments are both crucial.

Kneeling before the fire pit, Do-ah scraped away the ash and stacked three soaked oak logs into a well shape.

Around the edges, she placed a handful of solid fuel made from rice bran and straw.

Ash clung to her clothes in seconds, but she didn’t care. She went back inside.

As the flames spread slowly, the bitter smell faded, replaced by a golden sweetness.

28.2… 28.4.

The thermometer steadily climbed.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and listened closely. Soon, the yeast room’s distinctive fermentation sound filled her ears.

Chiik, chiik. The sound of starch turning into sugar.

29 degrees.

Relief softened her face as she checked the thermometer.

“Good. That’s better.”

Leaving the yeast room’s tangy-sweet scent behind, she headed toward the last stop, the main furnace. But then, her eyes drifted toward the servants’ quarters.

For some reason, the ankle he’d touched last night grew warm again.

It was just past five.

She’d told him to be ready by 5:30, so now was as good a time as any.

What should I make him do first?

Pondering, she opened the door to the servants’ quarters and stepped inside.

“…Still sleeping?”

Standing on the stone step, she craned her neck to look into the room. Suddenly—crash! Something banged loudly inside.

“Ahhh! What the hell!”

A sharp curse rang out as the bathroom door flew open.

A large, naked silhouette burst out, colliding with her.

“Ah!”
“Watch out!”

It happened so fast she couldn’t avoid it. The two of them toppled into the courtyard in a heap.

The man’s hand wrapped around the back of her head as they rolled across the dirt, scattered with pear blossom petals.

“…!”

The rough thump of his heartbeat drummed against her cheek. It was the raw sound of skin against skin.