Chapter 3 : The Breaking Point
Days blurred into weeks, and Yeri was running on empty. The chores piled up, and her shifts changed from "wow, that's a long day" to "am I still alive?" Meals? More like sad little rations. She moved through that mansion like a zombie, her eyes dull, hands rough and battered. The girl barely looked alive.
Yunjun kept watching her with a strange expression, as if he was trying to convince himself she deserved this. He called it justice. Sure, buddy. But she never fought back. She never even snapped at him, which seemed to bother him more than if she'd screamed.
Then, on a scorching afternoon, Yeri was dragging buckets from the garden well. It was Soojin's latest bright idea. Her arms shook, her vision blurred, and before she realized it, the world spun. Down she went, lights out.
The last thing she heard was the crash of the bucket hitting the floor, ceramic shards scattered everywhere.
Yunjun was busy with his "serious man in a study" act when he heard the commotion. He rushed out and found Yeri sprawled on the marble floor, ghostly pale and barely breathing. Soojin stood nearby, arms crossed, looking like she had bitten into a lemon.
"Pathetic," Soojin sneered. "Can't even finish a simple job."
Something in Yunjun snapped. Enough was enough. He shoved past his sister, dropped to his knees, and felt Yeri's pulse—way too fast and way too weak. He didn't even think; he scooped her up as if she weighed nothing.
Soojin's jaw dropped. "What the hell are you doing?"
"She needs rest," he snapped, already heading up the stairs with Yeri in his arms.
Soojin followed, indignant. "Since when do you care? You're the one who wanted her to suffer!"
He ignored her. Honestly, he didn't know why he was doing this. Seeing Yeri like that—a wreck—twisted his insides.
He laid her in bed and barked at a maid. "Water. Cold cloth. Now." Soojin hovered in the doorway, scowling.
"You're going soft," she hissed.
Yunjun shot her a look that could freeze lava. "You've gone too far."
Soojin bristled. "She's nothing! Just some girl you brought here to punish. Why are you defending her?"
He didn't have an answer that made sense.
Yeri came to in a haze. The sheets were cool, and for once, there was actual peace and quiet. No chores, no yelling, just the soft glow of a lamp beside her bed.
She blinked, trying to process it. The door creaked open, and in walked Yunjun.
They stared at each other, both feeling lost. Then he finally spoke, stiff and awkward.
"No work. Three days. Doctor's orders, well, my orders."
Yeri frowned. "Why?"
With a clenched jaw and eyes averted, he said, "Because I said so."
She wanted to argue, but she barely had the energy to breathe. So she just nodded.
He hesitated at the door and muttered, "Eat something. You look dead."
The door shut. End of conversation.
Things changed after that.
Yunjun stopped pretending Yeri didn't exist. He watched her, not as a problem, but as a real person. If Soojin snapped, he shut her down. If the maids tried to pile on more work, he sent them away.
Soojin hated it, and she was in full meltdown mode.
One night, she cornered Yeri in the hallway, teeth practically bared. "What did you do to my brother? Cast a spell on him or something?"
Yeri kept her eyes on the floor. "I didn't do anything."
"Liar!" Soojin grabbed her wrist, nails digging in. "You're stealing him from me!"
Yeri winced but didn't move. "I don't want him."
Soojin's face twisted with rage. She raised her hand, ready to slap, but someone caught her wrist midair.
Yunjun.
His grip was strong. "Touch her again and you'll regret it."
Soojin yanked her hand back, furious. "You're choosing her over me?"
He didn't answer. He just stepped between them, putting himself in front of Soojin and Yeri.
Soojin's eyes glazed with anger. "Fine! But this isn't over." She stormed off.
Yeri looked up at Yunjun, confused. "Why?"
He stared at her, his expression unreadable. "I don't know."
A few days later, Yunjun was in the garden, probably trying to remember what sunlight felt like. He spotted something sticking out of the grass—a beat-up leather journal.
Yeri's diary.
He knew he shouldn't look, but curiosity got the better of him. He cracked it open.
Page after page revealed the truth: her father's drunken rages, blaming her for her mother's death, the beatings, the hunger, all that loneliness.
The worst part was how she wrote about him—it hit different.
*"Yunjun hates me. I don't know why. But I'm used to being hated. At least here, the pain is clean. No lies."*
That hit him hard.
Then this:
*"I dream sometimes of running away. But where would I go? This house, as cruel as it is, is still better than what I left behind."*
And the last line? It stung.
*"I wonder if he'll ever look at me and see a person, not just something to break."*
Yunjun's hands shook. He'd spent all this time believing he was delivering some kind of punishment for... what? A made-up offense? Turns out, she had already been through hell. He just made it worse.
Guilt slammed into him like a freight train. Breathing felt heavy.
He closed the diary, feeling as if he had swallowed rocks.
He'd messed up. Big time.
And honestly, he had no idea how to fix it.
To be continued.....
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