The Peddler’s Wagon
When you’re deep in the mountains, it feels like the sounds of birds and the wind are right beside you. It’s as if a person is submerged in nature.
But as they moved away from the mountain and closer to the village, the feeling changed completely.
Small villages in this world are different from those on Earth. They are closer to nature. Even so, since man-made structures are gathered together, the atmosphere feels very different from the mountains.
In just a short time, his senses had changed a lot compared to when he lived on Earth. Back then, he would have thought a place like this was pure nature. Humans really are creatures that adapt.
Juhwan glanced at Lizzy, who had slowed down slightly, feeling a bit concerned. Whether she was tired or simply unhappy about going to the village, her expression seemed a little dark.
Was she afraid of running into the men who attacked him last time? Or scared of facing their families? Whatever it was, he resolved that nothing like that would ever happen again.
Juhwan lightly brushed Lizzy’s back. Her slightly hunched posture straightened a bit. When she looked up at him and smiled brightly, her expression seemed to improve.
His hand drifted to the hair swaying at the back of her neck. Lizzy’s long, softly shining hair had been beautiful. The fact that she had to cut it for money made him feel like an incompetent husband every time he thought about it.
But the short bob actually suited her well. When her hair was long, she gave off a pure and calm impression, but now that her neck was visible, she looked like a cheerful young girl—cute and lively.
If it weren’t cut because of money, I could freely tell her how cute she is.
Because he believed she cut it for their livelihood, he couldn’t openly praise her appearance. Guilt came first.
He had thought he was starting to act like a proper head of the household—hunting a bit, catching rabbits—but he realized he was still lacking.
Feeling that deeply, he quietly took Lizzy’s hand. He hoped his feelings would reach her.
Since she wasn’t used to holding hands, Lizzy seemed startled. Her wide eyes, combined with her short hair, made her look even cuter.
“Cute.”
The words slipped out unconsciously.
“….”
Lizzy lowered her gaze shyly. The tips of her pale ears turned slightly red. Whether it was from holding hands or from being called cute, he wasn’t sure—but she seemed happy, and that lightened his heart.
Standing tall on the carrier frame, Dorothy stomped her feet and stretched her small hand toward them.
“Dorothy is cute too.”
“Pfft.”
Lizzy burst into laughter. The slightly awkward atmosphere instantly disappeared. Kids really were amazing—they had no sense of timing.
“Dorothy is cute.”
When Juhwan said that, Dorothy leaned forward, putting weight on the carrier. Her messy, curly hair stuck out like wild grass.
“Mom, what about Dorothy?”
Apparently Juhwan’s answer wasn’t enough.
Lizzy smiled and said,
“Dorothy is very cute.”
“Yeah!”
Satisfied, Dorothy grinned widely.
The back gate they had used before was locked, so this time they entered through the large front gate of the village.
The entrance was wide open. According to Lizzy, it stays open during the day when people come and go, and closes in the afternoon. After studying the language for a few days, Juhwan could understand much more now. It made him a little happy.
When he first arrived, parts of the village fence had been broken. It didn’t seem like the villagers had the means to repair it. With gaps everywhere, he wondered if closing the front gate even mattered.
He shifted his gaze and walked inside. Small fields were scattered here and there, and houses stood sparsely. Somewhere, a chicken crowed. Perhaps because it was the outskirts, there were hardly any people.
As they walked further in, more villagers appeared—though still only one or two at a time. Seeing people moving about after so long made his heart lift slightly.
Dorothy seemed excited. She bounced on the carrier before finally hopping down and running ahead.
But she never went far—whenever she got close to someone, she quickly ran back, then repeated the process, circling around Juhwan and Lizzy.
As they followed the road toward the center, a wide open space came into view. People were gathered there, murmuring. In the middle stood a large wagon with a roof—it looked quite big.
Around the wagon, it looked like an old countryside market. People had laid out goods on the ground to sell—some in baskets, some on cloth, some directly on the dirt.
When Juhwan looked, Lizzy explained:
“They’re villagers. When the peddler comes, each person brings items to sell.”
“Each?”
“Oh… one by one. Everyone.”
Every time she explained something, Lizzy made a slightly proud expression—though she tried to hide it behind a composed face.
Finding it cute, Juhwan gently poked her nose. It squished slightly.
Dorothy saw this and burst into laughter, clutching her stomach.
Perhaps because of that, Lizzy got a bit upset. She let go of Juhwan’s hand and walked ahead. Dorothy ran up and held her hand, and the two walked side by side.
“….”
I should reflect. Poking a woman’s nose is bad manners.
When Juhwan first came to this village, he had no time to look around. He had been thrown into a shabby house straight from the wagon, spending the night worrying about survival.
Even now, remembering it made his fists clench.
But now, entering the village with his wife and daughter felt completely different. He could see people smiling, living normal lives. Only now did he truly realize—it was just a place where people lived.
As they approached the peddler’s wagon, people stared openly at Juhwan’s family. It wasn’t hostile, but it felt unwelcoming.
It reminded him of when he had stayed with relatives back on Earth—he had felt the same way then. But now even Lizzy and Dorothy were receiving those looks. It irritated him.
Juhwan moved closely behind them, as if shielding them. With his large build and the carrier on his back, he looked like a bodyguard.
Because of that, the stares lessened. When their eyes met his, people quickly looked away.
Dorothy seemed slightly intimidated at first, but as she saw the goods, her expression brightened. Her eyes widened, and her head darted around.
She suddenly turned back.
“Can Dorothy look at that?”
Lizzy smiled and nodded, quietly reminding her not to touch anything.
Dorothy ran off toward the wagon.
Several men were running the peddler’s wagon—an older man and several younger ones. They might have been related; their faces were similar.
As Dorothy circled around, a boy about ten years old popped out from behind the wagon. He looked like part of the group too.
Like Russian nesting dolls—similar faces repeated again and again. It was almost funny.
Dorothy seemed to think so too, running around comparing their faces one by one.
The boy looked annoyed, muttering to himself.
Meanwhile, Lizzy carefully took out the rabbit hide and her hair to show the peddler.
“….”
Juhwan realized she wasn’t very good at bargaining. He wasn’t great either, but still…
He decided to just watch.
A middle-aged man approached after seeing the rabbit hide. The younger man stepped back.
The middle-aged peddler and his sons laid out their goods as they always did. Even while unpacking, they dealt with villagers who came to trade.
For traveling merchants, the real profit wasn’t just selling goods—it was what they obtained through barter: local specialties and valuable items.
So evaluating incoming goods was more important than displaying their own.
The middle-aged man oversaw his sons, occasionally stepping in. The most important skill for a merchant was judging value, and that’s what he taught his sons.
But above all, the most important thing was protecting their goods. Without goods, there was no business.
The biggest danger was bandits. Even on safe routes, bad encounters happened—and a single one could wipe out everything.
That’s why some merchants traveled in groups or hired guards.
This merchant traveled with his sons. They could fight, and they were free labor.
Then he saw a large man approaching—Juhwan—with an axe at his waist.
“….”
He hadn’t seen him before. The villagers’ awkward reactions made him cautious. He subtly moved closer to the wagon.
Before he could signal, his sons had already noticed and positioned themselves.
But when the woman took out goods, they relaxed.
Better to avoid conflict if possible.
Watching the third son deal with her, the merchant’s eyes lit up.
The fur looked excellent—fresh, probably winter-caught. The hair she presented was long, glossy, and golden.
Golden hair fetched the highest prices among nobles.
The merchant rubbed his hands and stepped forward.
The big man behind her seemed calm, not interfering.
Good. Very good. Today is lucky.
Villagers rarely knew how to bargain well.
The woman hesitated as she listed what she needed—basic necessities, clothes, shoes, salt, cookware.
She seemed worried she was asking for too much.
The big man said nothing.
The merchant suppressed a grin and examined the rabbit hide.
The elasticity felt excellent.
Very good.
Then the middle-aged merchant finally spoke to Lizzy.