Surviving as a Maid of the Sichuan Tang Clan

I swallowed hard and shook my head. I didn’t need anyone to spell it out. If I answered wrong here, I was dead.

“N-no. That’s not it. I’m just afraid I won’t be able to do well. Elder.”

Only then did Tang Jung’s eyes soften. He rolled his shoulders in a shrug.

“You’ll know once you try. It’ll be as easy as washing clothes, so don’t worry.”

At that utterly relaxed reply, a groan almost slipped out.

Elder. Have you ever done laundry in your life. Do you have any idea how hard it is to scrub a long robe when only the cuffs are black.

I twitched the corner of my mouth and forced myself to settle down.

My annoyance flared, but I wasn’t nearly brave enough to stand in front of Tang Jung and argue about how hard laundry was.

This was still better than listening to my manager drone on all lunch break about, “These days martial arts novels, I’m telling you, they don’t have any chivalry. No chivalry at all.”

...Was it?

While I was busy comparing which of the two had worse old-man energy, Tang Jung went ahead and reached his own conclusion, Tang Jung went ahead and reached his own conclusion.

“Then that’s settled. Go in and rest for today.”

“For today...?”

“From tomorrow, do your usual maid work. But when late afternoon is about over, come find me. If you say you’re running an errand to Elder Tang Jung’s quarters, no one will question it.”

That wasn’t what I’d meant to ask, Elder. What I really wanted to know was whether you truly meant to take me as your disciple.

I chewed on my lower lip, searching for words. However I phrased it, I couldn’t find a way to refuse without offending him.

As the silence dragged on, Tang Jung crossed his arms, as if wondering why I still hadn’t answered.

There was nowhere left to run. Swallowing back tears, I said,

“Yes.”

In the novel, Tang Jung’s stubbornness was no joke. This man was the type who would force his way through no matter what.

I gave up. Fine. If I become his disciple, at least he probably won’t kill me.

When I answered meekly, satisfaction flickered across his face. Eyes curving, he smiled and spoke kindly.

“Starting tomorrow, stay and eat dinner before you go. You have to eat well to grow well.”

“I’m not that small, though.”

“The bigger a martial artist is, the better. The more easily they put on muscle. Long arms and legs are better for handling weapons, too.”

You’re not exactly tall yourself, Elder.

When I stared straight at him, Tang Jung gave an awkward little cough.

“I’ve reached a realm where I’m not bound by trivial conditions. Anyway, child. Can you read?”

He slipped the change of subject in as if it were nothing. His expression said, Surely you can at least do that.

At his question, I suddenly felt sheepish.

I can read the alphabet, but I don’t know a single classical character.

Sneaking a look at his face, I mumbled,

“...No.”

“...Tch. Then we’ll have to start from the Thousand-Character Classic.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead as if he already had a headache.

*****

By the time I got back to our room, it was late at night.

The moment I slid the door open, Songji, who had been sitting on the bed, shot to her feet and ran over.

“Hey, where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Songji.”

“What happened? They said you went into the inner estate, and then there wasn’t a word from you. I thought something awful had happened. You’re not hurt, are you? Did you eat dinner?”

“Something came up, but I’m fine.”

I brushed it off vaguely.

Simyang and her lot threatened me into going to the training grounds in the inner estate to clean, I got lost and nearly fell in a pond, I found out who Tang Jung really is, and somehow I ended up becoming his disciple, so from tomorrow on I have to juggle work and study...

I simply did not have the strength to summarize that whole saga.

Maybe my face looked bad, because Songji didn’t pry any further. Instead, she pressed a rice ball wrapped in bamboo leaf into my hand.

“We do all this just to eat, you know? No matter how hard it is, don’t skip meals. You have to eat well to have any strength.”

“Thanks, Songji.”

Songji. You’re a good person.

The fact that a single rice ball was making my eyes sting told me just how rough the day had been.

I gave her a faint smile and took a big bite. The cold grains of rice rolled around my mouth.

Mm. This really made me miss MSG.

More importantly, I needed to come up with a plan...

“Hey, do you have any paper and a brush? I need to write something down.”

“Listen to you. Where would the likes of us get something that precious? And you don’t even know how to read—what do you need writing tools for?”

Songji shook her head like I was talking nonsense.

I mean, it’s not like I didn’t have sixteen years of education...

...And yet I didn’t know them. I hadn’t even gotten through the Thousand-Character Classic.

It hit me all over again that this was a society built on strict class.

Some people had to save ten years’ wages just to buy a handful of an expensive tea, while others drank it like water.

For some people, paper, brush, and ink were so common they were underfoot; for others, they were rare treasures.

Maybe becoming Tang Jung’s disciple wasn’t such a bad thing. At least a minimum level of quality of life would be guaranteed.

If I became the disciple of the Grand Elder the Clan Head himself made sure not to offend, no one would be able to treat me carelessly.

I deliberately tried to think positive thoughts. It was the only way it hurt a little less.

Either way, it was going to be hard to write things down and draw up countermeasures.

Giving up on written notes, I searched my memory for what Namgung Under Heaven had been about.

Namgung Under Heaven was a story about the growth of Namgung Hwi, the young clan head of the Namgung Clan.

The plot wasn’t anything fancy. Starting with his victory at the Later-Generation Number One Under Heaven Martial Tournament, the protagonist roamed the martial world and revived the Namgung Clan.

After becoming Clan Head, he spread the Namgung sword across the world and was given the title of Sword Emperor... and after that, my memory cut off.

I’d read it half a year ago, so only scattered fragments came to mind. All I could do was resent my pathetic memory.

Apparently, the basic skill set of a webnovel transmigrator was a good memory. How did they all instantly know which work they were in, what it was about, and exactly how they were supposed to behave?

Scratching my cheek, I pictured the handsome guy on the cover.

Namgung Hwi, put nicely, was overflowing with a sense of justice. Put bluntly, he was an inconsiderate jerk.

What did they call it, a tactic of goading your opponent. He’d slowly needle a villain with words, then, once the guy lost his temper and lunged at him, he’d put on a show of beating him senseless with his sword.

“It was impressive, really.”

“What was?”

“Ah, nothing. Just talking to myself.”

Songji gave me a pitying look. Her face said, Work’s been so hard she’s finally snapped.

I gave an awkward laugh and swallowed the last of the rice ball, and a wave of hunger crashed over me. My stomach churned, demanding more.

Guess the snacks I’d eaten earlier had already burned off.

I must have been so tense I hadn’t even noticed I was hungry.

As I sped up my chewing, Songji held out a cup of water.

“Eat slowly. You’ll give yourself indigestion.”

Nodding, I alternated water and rice ball.

Once my stomach felt solid again, I felt like I might actually live. At the same time, my brain kicked into high gear.

Right now, there were two ways I could get information.

First: check whether a person named Namgung Hwi was coming to the upcoming gathering of the Five Great Clans.

And second: Tang Jung.

In the story, Tang Jung took a shine to Namgung Hwi and gave him the Myriad Poisons Pill after that big tournament.

If I could find out whether Tang Jung already had the Myriad Poisons Pill right now, and whether he’d met Namgung Hwi yet, I could pin down where in the story we were.

“Hey. Aren’t you sleeping? I’m putting the lamp out.”

“Yes. I’ll lie down in a bit.”

“Stop filling your head with useless thoughts and go to bed early. People like us aren’t supposed to think. The smarter you are, the more miserable your life gets.”

“Got it.”

But how was I supposed to find out whether Tang Jung had the Myriad Poisons Pill.

The moment I asked about the existence of a spiritual pill, I’d draw suspicion again.

Whether they decided I was a spy sent to steal the pill or just a maid coveting something way above her station, the speed at which I ended up grabbed by the collar would probably be about the same.

I looked over at Songji, who had passed out the second she lay down. My chest felt tight.

Maybe Songji was right. If I just did the cleaning I was told and the laundry I was told without thinking about anything, I could probably keep my head attached.

But I didn’t want to live like that.

I tossed and turned until the stars embroidered across the sky hid behind the mountain ridge, and only then did I finally drift off.

*****

As dusk settled, Tang Jung stood in the front courtyard of a dark hall.

His face was expressionless as he looked up at the sky, turning black.

At the sound of the wind brushing through the undergrowth, Tang Jung slowly closed his eyes.

“Well then, Geunmyeong. Did you find out?”

Geunmyeong approached without a sound and bowed low. He answered respectfully.

“Yes, Elder. They say she’s an orphan who’s grown up in the Tang estate since she was small.”

“An orphan.”

Murmuring, Tang Jung opened his eyes slowly. His dark blue gaze gleamed sharply.

“Yes. Madam Lee took in a five-year-old who was skin and bones. She’s definitely not of Tang blood.”

“So it’s just the same name. Well, after eating Crimson Crane Powder for ten months straight, there’s no way she’d still be alive. That mother and daughter... pitiful.”

He clicked his tongue. After a brief pause to draw breath, Geunmyeong continued.

“She’s had unusually strong resistance to poison since she was a child. It doesn’t seem she’s ever learned any formal martial arts.”

“That much I confirmed with my own eyes. All the meridians in her body were blocked.”

“They say the maids shun her, and I’d guess it’s because of her looks. If you mix her in with ordinary people, she’s a child who stands out. ...Please don’t look at me like that, Elder. What kind of dirty thoughts would I have about a snot-nosed brat? In any case, they say she’s changed over the last seven days and nights. She used to be shy and quiet, but now she’s started arguing when something’s unfair and even getting angry.”

“The last seven days and nights...”

Tang Jung quietly did the math in his head. It overlapped with the time he’d first met the little maid.

“What about the possibility she’s a spy sent from outside?”

“I’ll look into whether there are any other traces.”

“Do that.”

Tang Jung’s reply was cool.

He needed to confirm with his own eyes whether he’d happened to pick up a hidden gem... or whether someone had thrown a poison-laced jewel over the wall.