Chapter 219
Her unshakable self-awareness.
Her firm resolve.
A woman who’d sooner break than bend to his will.
It was maddening, but unavoidable. This was Jaha—no obedient slave, no lifeless doll, but Yoo Jaha, her dark eyes alight with vitality.
Even if it gnawed at him, he had to endure. He couldn’t force her. Must not force her. That lesson was carved into his bones.
“I’ll look into families needing tutors and write recommendation letters,” he conceded.
If he couldn’t stop her, he’d at least keep her within the reach of his influence.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t refuse this much.”
Jaha, about to decline, paused at his weary tone.
‘Maybe it’s okay to accept help this far…?’
This wasn’t a world with online job postings. Without connections or reputation, becoming a tutor outright would be nearly impossible.
She did feel guilty adding to her debts, but his referrals would carry weight. Those he introduced would be vetted, lowering the risks.
“Thank you,” she said, catching his hand. The smooth silk of his gloves—so unlike human skin—left her wistful. When will I feel his bare touch? Stroking the fabric where no warmth reached, she added:
“When I’m paid, I’ll buy you a gift.”
“A gift… for me?”
“Where I’m from, we use our first paycheck to buy something for the person most precious to us.”
A custom like ‘presenting your parents with your first salary’.
‘Since I can’t give it to my parents… I’ll give it to him instead.’
When she looked up, his face had transformed. The earlier tension had melted into a flush of boyish delight, as if he were a child awaiting first snow.
“It might take a while, though, I don’t know if I’ll be paid weekly, monthly, or quarterly yet.”
“That’s alright.”
His voice was practically floating as he responded—quickly, as if worried she might retract her promise if he seemed too impatient.
“I’m good at waiting.”
“Don’t expect too much.”
Jaha backpedaled, suddenly flustered. His hopefulness was palpable, and the higher the expectations, the greater the disappointment. Yet, he still looked unbearably happy.
The job was quickly found. It was tutoring the daughter of a wealthy merchant couple. For Jaha, who had been inwardly hesitant about taking on a noble’s child, the conditions were just right.
Madame Marie had assured her that since she had been educated under her, she could easily handle the children of aristocratic families. But honestly, the thought of possibly clashing with a high-strung young child made her uneasy, and she wasn’t keen on teaching under such stress.
Fortunately, the child was docile and well-mannered. The parents were also warm and amiable. It was, in every way, the ideal environment.
The lessons went smoothly, and Jaha soon began to enjoy the work.
“Ever since I started tutoring, it feels like you’re neglecting me too much.”
“I have to work hard to earn money so I can buy Rikanan presents.”
Rikanan often grumbled, seemingly displeased with Jaha spending her time preparing lessons. But with just that one remark, he would melt like soft, sticky rice cake, his complaints dissolving instantly.
Having roughly figured out how to handle him, Jaha coaxed him gently and did as she pleased. A month passed like that, and finally, her first paycheck was in hand.
On her way back, Jaha decided to stop by the city to buy a gift. But when it came time to choose, it wasn’t easy.
He was a man who already had too much.
Of course, no matter what she gave, he would accept it happily. But still, if possible, she wanted to give him something meaningful—such was human nature.
After visiting over ten stores and still unable to decide what to buy, Jaha wandered exhaustedly when suddenly, a shop with no signboard caught her eye.
‘What’s this place?’
She had heard such a story before—that one should never enter a shop whose purpose was unclear from the outside. But curiosity stirred within her. No, this wasn’t mere curiosity; it was a strange, irresistible pull. As if entranced, Jaha pushed open the door.
The interior was dark and shabby. “Did I step somewhere I shouldn’t have?” A sense of danger stiffened her body—just then, a faint scratching sound reached her ears.
Turning her head, she saw a middle-aged man sitting in the corner, scribbling something on paper. He was likely the owner.
Still tense, Jaha spoke up.
“Excuse me, but… what do you sell here?”
“You came in without even knowing that?”
The man replied indifferently, dipping his quill deep into the inkwell before pulling it out and resuming his writing.
Jaha stood dumbfounded.
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