"Seo-yoon, you should've said something if you were awake. Now hurry—you don't have time to waste. Your family will be waking soon, and you need to help the other servants with breakfast," he said.
Wooyun looked at him with wide eyes. Is this old man alright? Why was he calling him Han Seo-yoon? He looked nothing like her. In fact, he was a man, while the female lead was just that—female.
Glancing down at his clothes, Wooyun realized he wasn't wearing his silk pajama set or his cozy little socks. Instead, he was clad in old, tattered robes, their once-white and light-green colors faded with time. The fabric was riddled with holes and stains, making him visibly wince. But what unsettled him most wasn't their condition—it was how strikingly similar they were to the ones the female protagonist had worn at the beginning of the story.
His heart sank. Slowly, he looked back up at the man still standing there, waiting for a response. Wooyun swallowed hard, gripping the hem of his robe.
"Hey, Mister... D-Did you just confuse me for someone else?" he asked hesitantly.
The farmkeep gave him a look as if he were stupid. "What are you talking about? Have the three days you've spent sleeping here finally driven you insane? Why would I confuse you for someone else?"
Wooyun let out a nervous laugh, his complexion paling. "So you mean to tell me that I'm... Han Seo-yoon? From the Han Clan? The same clan as the previous second-branch Clan Head, Han Beom-seok?"
The powerful man who died a dog's death at the hands of the woman he married after less than a year? I've taken the place of this miserable woman?!
The farmkeep still looked at him funny but gave a curt nod. "I don't have time for your shenanigans. I need to take care of the chickens and collect their eggs. By the time I get back, you'd better not still be here." With that, he huffed and walked away.
Left alone, Wooyun slumped to the ground, his mind racing. He was confused—how had he ended up inside the story he had been reading last night? More importantly, how had he become one of its main characters?
A thought struck him, and he quickly patted his chest. Relief washed over him when he found nothing there. Then, with no small amount of hesitation, he glanced inside his pants. His manhood was still intact.
So how did he become Seo-yoon?
Last time he checked, she was a woman—blessed with an ample chest and all the necessary parts to bear the Demon Lord's future children. So what was going on?
"Maybe my gender changed when I entered the story?" he muttered aloud.
That would explain why no one was acting like anything was amiss.
Wooyun let out a sigh of relief. At least he didn't have to live as a woman. He knew how difficult it was to be one, and he had no interest in a life of suffering.
Unfortunately, that didn't mean he was off the hook. Han Seo-yoon's life was anything but easy, and it wouldn't get better until she met the Demon Lord.
"Ah, Demon Lord, where art thou? Come and take me away from this horrible life already," he sighed dramatically.
Now that Wooyun knew he had taken the female protagonist's place, he needed to prepare. Seo-yoon had always been a docile and submissive character, too afraid to stand up for herself.
Her stepmother, Kang Choon-hee, was a vicious, conniving woman who enjoyed taking her anger out on her. Filled with greed and jealousy, Choon-hee knew that if Seo-yoon set her mind to it, she could reclaim her birthright and take over the clan. But Seo-yoon wasn't ambitious—she did nothing to stop Choon-hee from tarnishing the family's reputation.
It wasn't until the Demon Lord asked her what she wanted in return for her love that she finally decided to take back the clan and restore its former glory.
But that was a long way off. For now, Wooyun had no choice but to endure.
With a resigned sigh, he got up from the dusty floor and exited the barn. The morning sun was already high in the sky. Moving quickly, he made his way to the main house, slipping inside through the servants' entrance.
Inside, the kitchen was already bustling. Women were hard at work preparing breakfast.
"Ah, Seo-yoon, you're already awake. I was worried I'd have to send someone to fetch you again," said an older woman with kind eyes.
Wooyun immediately recognized her—Auntie Lim, one of the few people who had ever treated Seo-yoon like a human being.
The other servants, though they acknowledged Seo-yoon as the rightful heir, avoided her for fear of angering her stepmother.
Wooyun could only shake his head in pity as he got to work. He knew the story well enough—even though he hadn't finished it—so he didn't need instructions. He already knew the female protagonist's routine like the back of his hand.
She was always given the toughest and dirtiest chores while enduring her stepbrothers' cruelty. Yet, despite it all, she remained kind and hopeful, believing that everything would turn out alright if she simply endured.
Too kind. Too naïve.
Once his kitchen tasks were done, Wooyun went out to gather firewood and pick herbs. Choon-hee had particular tastes when it came to her meals and often demanded rare plants from the garden. Seo-yoon had always suspected it was just another excuse to keep her busy.
As he made his way to the garden, a strange noise caught his attention.
Grunts?
Curious, Wooyun took a detour, moving cautiously to avoid being seen. He peered through the shrubbery that divided the back of the house from the courtyard.
There, he saw a young man about his age, stripped to the waist, his bare chest glistening with sweat as he swung his sword in powerful arcs. Every strike was precise, controlled, and filled with purpose.
Wooyun was mesmerized.
It was his first time seeing a sword in real life—let alone someone wielding one.
"Wow... I really am in a cultivation novel," he whispered.
His whisper must have been louder than intended, because the man suddenly halted and turned in his direction.
"Is someone there?"
Wooyun froze. Then, with lightning speed, he ducked into the bushes, cursing himself.
Idiot. This is a cultivation novel! These monsters have super-hearing!
The man waited for a moment before shrugging it off and resuming his practice. Wooyun didn't dare linger this time. He made a beeline for the woods, forcing himself to forget the swordsman for now.
By the time he returned, it was already mid-morning. The mistress of the house and the young masters had finally awakened.
As always, the servants were required to stand around the dining table while the family ate. And as yet another humiliation, Seo-yoon was forced to stand there too, watching them enjoy the meal she had helped prepare.
Choon-hee, seated at the head of the table, surveyed the room with her usual smirk. But then her gaze landed on Wooyun.
She frowned.
Unlike his usual timid, fearful demeanor, Seo-yoon looked... bored.
Choon-hee narrowed her eyes. Something was off.
"What's wrong, Mother?" one of her sons asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
"It's nothing, Yu-jun," she murmured, lips curling into a smile. "Eat your meal. You have another sparring session with Young Master Eun-woo later. You'll need your strength."
Yu-jun scowled at the mention of the man he could never beat.
Suddenly, his appetite was ruined. His eyes flicked up and locked onto the young boy, who was too busy admiring the home's interior to keep his gaze on the floor as instructed. His grip on his chopsticks tightened, and an abrupt urge to hurl them at Seo-yoon's face overtook him.
Seeing that handsome face—despite being covered in dust and grime—always made him angry, and this morning, he was in a particularly vile mood. But the longer he stared, the more he realized something was off. Seo-yoon wasn't acting like his usual self.
Once breakfast was over, Seo-yoon moved to clear the table when, suddenly, the end of a fan struck his hand, causing him to drop one of the cups he had been holding.
"Ow! What the h—" Wooyun started but caught himself just in time. He had been about to curse her out before remembering—too late—that he wasn't in his own body anymore. He was supposed to be Seo-yoon. A meek, shy boy who quivered at the sight of his cruel stepfamily.
Choon-hee's eyes widened, her mouth falling open. His two stepbrothers shared her expression—complete and utter disbelief.
"W-What did you just say?" she finally managed, recovering from her shock.
Wooyun quickly bowed his head, realizing his mistake. Should he own up to what he had almost said and apologize? Or pretend nothing had happened? He wasn't sure which option was better, but he knew that either way, he would be punished. With a resigned sigh, he muttered an apology—though it came out far less sincere than intended.
"…Such belligerence," Choon-hee spat, eyes narrowing. She had suspected something before, but now she was certain. Seo-yoon was different.
Her grip on the fan tightened. In one swift motion, she struck Wooyun across the face. His head snapped to the side, a sharp sting blooming across his right cheek. He could tell just from the throbbing pain that she had put real force behind the slap.
For a moment, he stood there, stunned.
He had read the book line for line, word for word. He knew the kind of treatment the female protagonist endured. But knowing it and experiencing it firsthand were two entirely different things.
This was borderline abuse.