Prologue: The Passing Scholar
"Hwaaaak!! S-someone help me!!"
Late at night, a village woman who had lost track of time gathering wild herbs and was only now making her way down the mountain felt the cold grip of death's terror.
Grrrr...
The lord of the mountain had appeared—a tiger.
It had been a mistake. To say that tigers lived in every mountain of Joseon was hardly an exaggeration.
That was why, whenever people needed to cross the mountains, they either gathered as many companions as they could and traveled together, or steered clear of secluded paths altogether.
Even so, tiger attacks still claimed lives, and in the end, everyone had to remain vigilant.
The village woman had never meant to venture this deep. But then she had stumbled upon wild herbs untouched by any human hand, and unable to resist the temptation, she had climbed higher one step at a time.
She should have reined in her greed at a reasonable point—yet thinking of the children who went hungry every day at home, she simply could not stop.
So this is how I die...!
She fled with everything she had, but for a woman to outrun a tiger was all but impossible. They said that anyone killed by a tiger became a chang-gwi—and if that happened, her children would never be able to marry. A chang-gwi sought out its own family and kin first, luring them to their deaths to create more victims.
In the end, she had been gathering herbs for her children's sake, only to seal off their futures with her own hands. As visions of those ruined futures flashed before her eyes like a spinning lantern, the village woman finally broke down and wept.
"No...! I can't die here...!"
KRAAAANG!!
But a tiger had no ears for human pleas. The beast that had been trailing her at a leisurely pace, toying with her, raised a massive forepaw and swung it down toward her.
Whoosh—!
"Uwaaaa...?"
The village woman squeezed her eyes shut in pure terror, driven by the instinctive hope that even a fraction of death's agony might vanish that way. Yet no pain came.
"Ah...?"
When she carefully cracked her eyes open, the tiger's face lay right before her.
"Hwaaaak!"
"Calm yourself. The San-gun is dead."
"Wh... what? D-dead...?"
Entranced by the sudden deep, resonant voice, the village woman turned her head. There stood a man in a pure white dopo and a black heungnip, idly stroking a bow.
Apparently, this was the man who had slain that enormous tiger. But to bring down a tiger with nothing but a bow! It was no wonder the village woman's eyes flew wide.
"These mountains are treacherous, and many San-gun and tigers dwell here. Why were you still about so late into the night?"
"W-well, I got distracted gathering wild herbs, and..."
At that, the man glanced at the bundle of herbs balanced on her head.
"Fine herbs, indeed. But does that mean you should throw your life away so carelessly?"
"I'm sorry, my lord. You've saved my life...!"
Thinking of the children waiting for her at home, the village woman burst into tears. She had been certain she would die and become a chang-gwi—yet thanks to the man before her, she would see her children again.
"Whoa—why are you crying? You are alive."
"I cry because I am relieved to be alive...!"
"Ah. I—I see. Where is your village? I shall accompany you there."
"Just over that hill...! More than that, I wish to repay you. May I ask your name...?"
"There is no need to remember my name. I am... just a passing scholar."
With that, the man fell silent. The moment they reached her village, he drank a single gourd of water from the well and headed straight back into the mountains.
The village woman hurried home to find something—anything—with which to repay him, but by the time she returned, he was already gone. Standing before the village's sacred tree, she offered a prayer for the scholar's future.
And the scholar who returned to the mountain, Kim Shin-ryong...
"This is driving me crazy. Just when did I start reading the map upside down...?"
He spent the rest of the night thoroughly lost, wandering the midnight mountains.