The Weight of Unspoken Intentions
The fox spirit’s ears twitched at the question.
“Woman…?”
Mu-ho repeated the word once more, disbelief thick in his voice.
“You’re saying she’s really just an ordinary human?”
“Indeed. It appears she has no knowledge of the marble’s existence whatsoever.”
Shin-wol let out a low, amused chuckle.
The image of Yeo-won’s face rose in his mind—trembling with fear, yet still reaching out to cover the child’s ears. The resemblance was uncanny, not only in appearance but in that foolish tendency to help others without regard for her own place. A strange, unpleasant heat stirred in his chest.
Mu-ho hesitated, choosing his words carefully before speaking again.
“…Then we should retrieve the marble as quickly as possible.”
There was an unspoken implication behind his words. Once the marble was returned, what would Shin-wol do? It would be best if he quietly ascended as a Ten-Tailed Fox. But if, by some chance, he harbored other intentions…
“You seem to have many questions for me today.”
Shin-wol looked at him and smiled gently. The question that seemed to pierce straight through his thoughts made Mu-ho press his lips tightly shut.
“It would appear that Cheon-sin is quite curious about my movements.”
With a quiet snap of his fingers, the scattered pieces on the baduk board returned to their original positions.
“You need not worry. Once I reclaim the marble, I will ascend without fuss. However, before that… I intend to enjoy what little entertainment remains.”
“Entertainment…?”
The calm in his voice was terrifying. It would have been easier if he had raged and roared in fury.
It had been the same back then. On the day that woman stole his marble. Even as his spiritual power was sliced in half and he fell into a long slumber, he had simply closed his eyes with indifference.
Mu-ho wanted to ask what he was thinking, but Shin-wol waved a hand through the air, opening a door in the void, and the words died in his throat.
“I believe we have spoken enough. You may leave now. Give my regards to Cheon-sin.”
Shin-wol offered a faint, elegant smile in farewell. In that instant, Myoilgung dissolved like mist, and Mu-ho found himself standing alone on the mid-slope of Mount Inwol.
The strangely cheerful look on Shin-wol’s face left Mu-ho with an uneasy feeling he could not shake. Still, he turned his steps toward Mount Gonok.
Yeo-won woke with a dazed expression and slowly sat up. She looked around with bleary eyes, but the room was exactly as it had been—clean, spacious, and unfamiliar.
“…Was it just a nightmare?”
Last night, a chilling sensation had crawled over her skin as if every hair on her body had stood on end. She had pulled the blanket over her head and eventually fallen asleep, trembling with fear.
As she ran her hand down her arm, replaying the events of the previous night, the door burst open.
It was Cheong-sil.
“Breakfast has arrived, seumnidayo!”
Cheong-sil set the bowl he had carried in his small muzzle down in front of her.
Inside the bowl he pushed forward with his front paw was a chaotic mix of wild strawberries and snakeberries.
Thanks to that, the terrifying events of the night before were naturally forgotten, replaced instead by a long sigh.
Yeo-won looked back and forth between Cheong-sil and the bowl, then frowned in irritation.
“Cheong-sil…”
“What is it, seumnidayo?”
Cheong-sil tilted his head with an innocent, golden-eyed gaze.
Yeo-won stared down at him, words piling up behind her teeth, but in the end she simply looked away without saying anything.
“Never mind. Thank you.”
Bringing it up would only continue yesterday’s conversation, and she was already exhausted at the thought.
It had been roughly two days since she arrived here.
Every time she woke, it was still night outside, so she couldn’t tell exactly how much time had passed. Therefore, counting “two days” based solely on how many times she had slept and woken might not be accurate.
But that wasn’t the real issue. Waking up to darkness was actually familiar to Yeo-won, who had worked as a freelancer.
There were two far more pressing problems.
The first was the food Cheong-sil kept bringing.
On the day he had brought grasshoppers, Yeo-won had spent half a day explaining human meals to him. She had passionately described everything from staple rice to side dishes, but Cheong-sil never quite understood.
To be precise, he understood her words but failed to grasp the core concept.
Both Cheong-sil and Shin-wol were transcendent beings who had long surpassed the need to eat. Cheong-sil, still carrying memories of his days as a wild fox, occasionally went hunting as a hobby.
Unfortunately, in his hundred years of life, Cheong-sil had never once seen a human dining table, so Yeo-won’s explanations were lost on him.
Even so, he seemed to want to listen to her. He made his own earnest attempts.
“This is a staple sparrow, seumnidayo! And for side dishes, I have brought actinidia berries, seumnidayo!”
Cheong-sil had dropped a still-twitching sparrow and a few actinidia fruits in front of her.
Faced with the half-dead bird, Yeo-won had let out a hollow laugh and given up on everything.
When she released the sparrow back into the wild, Cheong-sil had clicked his tongue in regret.
At least there was fruit. That was something.
Yeo-won popped one of the wild strawberries into her mouth and placed a hand over her growling stomach.
If only there was more of it…
She finished the meager handful in seconds and tried to fill her empty belly with water.
The moment she finished eating, Cheong-sil’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.
“Now that you’ve eaten, let’s continue what we were doing yesterday, seumnidayo!”
He dragged over a beanbag that barely fit in his small mouth and dropped it in front of her.
Yesterday, out of boredom, she had thrown the beanbag around the room and played tug-of-war with him. Cheong-sil had gone wild as if he had discovered a new civilization.
He had squeaked and tugged at the beanbag for over three hours straight. Only after it finally tore did the game come to an end.
And now, somehow, a brand-new beanbag had appeared before her.
Yeo-won fiddled with the empty bowl and answered listlessly.
“I’m not playing today. I told you yesterday. I need to meet your master.”
“Lord Shin-wol is busy, seumnidayo!”
Yes. This was the second problem.
Two whole days had passed, and that damned Shin-wol hadn’t shown even the tip of his nose.
When you kidnap someone, the least you could do was talk to them. Yet this insufferable man had remained completely silent.
“Then send me home. I have things to do. I can’t stay here forever.”
“That won’t do either, seumnidayo! Lord Shin-wol ordered me to take good care of the human, seumnidayo!”
Cheong-sil lowered his front half and lifted his rear, wiggling his hips from side to side. His golden eyes sparkled with excitement and expectation, clearly waiting for her to throw the toy.
Take good care of me, my ass. This is more like being a pet sitter…
More frustrating was how he could reveal such dangerous secrets yet become stubbornly inflexible about certain things.
Yeo-won had tried bringing up the leather pouch again, but he had firmly refused, saying he had already repaid that debt.
It seemed the first time had been easier to persuade because he hadn’t heard it directly from Shin-wol nor received specific orders. This time, however, he had been given a direct command.
When Yeo-won picked up the beanbag, Cheong-sil’s pupils dilated. Watching him huff excitedly through his nose, she tossed the pouch straight out the window.
“…”
“Ah, sorry. I didn’t aim properly. Want to go look for it together?”
Yeo-won smiled brightly at the fox who was now staring blankly out the window.
“Th-that’s not allowed…”
“Then I guess we can’t play.”
She answered casually, yawned, and flopped back onto the silk pillow.
At her thoroughly disinterested attitude, Cheong-sil whined and spun in circles.
He seemed to be debating whether it was okay to take her outside.
“Now that I think about it, there’s something even more fun we could do…”
Cheong-sil’s ears perked up. Yeo-won barely held back her laughter and muttered as if to herself.
“Too bad we don’t have the beanbag anymore. What a shame.”
This time his fluffy tail began to wag vigorously left and right.
Even with his back turned, his tail and ears gave away his every mood. He really was a pitifully adorable creature.
Cheong-sil glanced back at her, half-turning his head.
His anxiety was obvious. Yeo-won gently stroked his swaying tail and coaxed him in a soft voice.
“If we both look, we’ll find it faster. Besides, you’ll be right beside me the whole time. What could possibly happen?”
“Well… that’s true, but… still, Lord Shin-wol’s orders…”
“He told you to take care of me, didn’t he? He never said a single word about not taking me into the garden, right?”
Cheong-sil’s eyes widened as if a great realization had struck him.
“…You’re right, seumnidayo. He never said that, seumnidayo.”
He began bouncing around the room in delight.
“With this Cheong-sil here, the garden should be perfectly safe, seumnidayo!”
Puffing out his chest with pride, Cheong-sil leapt onto the windowsill.
After confirming no one was outside, he urgently tugged at Yeo-won’s sleeve with his mouth.
“This Cheong-sil will give you a tour of the garden, seumnidayo! Once we’re outside, you must stay right beside me, seumnidayo!”
“You really are kind, Cheong-sil.”
Yeo-won followed the fox, who was still tugging insistently at her sleeve, and clenched her fist tightly.
She was lucky that Cheong-sil was the one watching over her. Only he would fall for such ridiculous logic.
As they left the corridor and stepped into the garden, a breathtaking scene unfolded before her.
“Wow…”
The sight was so magnificent she couldn’t stop the exclamation from slipping out.
Neat stone pathways wound between carefully arranged pine trees that stood with quiet dignity. In the center lay a small but strikingly elegant pond.
When she approached the water’s edge, silver scales glittered across the surface.
Silvery aquatic plants swayed like dancers beneath the surface, and between them, fish so transparent their insides were visible poked their heads out curiously.
The moon was reflected clearly in the crystal-clear pond.
As Yeo-won stared at it, entranced, Cheong-sil trotted past her with a sniff.
“Where is it, seumnidayo! Beanbag!”
Watching him press his nose to the ground in search of the toy helped her snap back to reality.
The space was so impossibly beautiful and alien that she had nearly forgotten why she had come out here in the first place.
Yeo-won lightly slapped her own cheek.
I need to find some clue about our location—anything. Even just something that looks like an exit.
She might not have the courage to run away yet, but she couldn’t simply sit still forever.
She couldn’t afford to die an anonymous death in a place whose location she didn’t even know.
Fortunately, just as she had expected, Cheong-sil was completely absorbed in hunting for the beanbag.
Taking advantage of the moment, Yeo-won crept stealthily back toward the room where she had been kept.
Looking beneath the window, she spotted the beanbag lying among the bushes.
After checking Cheong-sil’s position, she quickly snatched it up and stuffed it back into the pouch.
At that moment, Cheong-sil came bounding over from a distance.
“Did you find it, seumnidayo?!”
“No, I don’t see it. Could you check a little deeper inside? I’ll look around here.”
“Understood, seumnidayo!”
Cheong-sil nodded with solemn determination and dashed off toward the pond again. As he disappeared into the distance, Yeo-won pressed a hand to her pounding chest.
Thank goodness he hadn’t suspected anything.
In the meantime, deciding there was nothing behind the pond, Cheong-sil had moved further into the garden.
Keeping her eyes fixed on him, Yeo-won rose onto her tiptoes and quietly slipped out of the garden.