Grasping the Hem
The place Shin-wol headed toward was, of course, Myoilgung—his own residence. The sight of the golden bed and the Go board that had become so familiar finally loosened the tension coiled inside him, and the pain he had been holding back came rushing forth. Shin-wol laid Yeo-won down on the golden bed with the same delicate care one might use when handling a child.
Sitting directly across from her, Shin-wol smoothed her disheveled hair and began inspecting her wounds.
One cheek burned a vivid red, and a crust of dried blood had formed at the corner of her mouth.
His gaze traveled slowly downward.
Her face was bad enough, but her body was in far worse condition. Her clothes were smeared with mud and filth, and blood droplets welled from the scratches that covered her. Lower still, her ankle had swollen into a dark, ugly bruise.
When Shin-wol’s fingers brushed down her ankle, Yeo-won flinched and pulled away.
“Could you… could you treat Cheong-sil first? He was hurt badly while shielding me. I think the internal injuries are severe…”
She held out the small fox in her arms and pleaded with quiet desperation.
His eyes turned cold and dry. Looking at Cheong-sil lying limp in her embrace, he let out an annoyed sigh and grabbed the fox by the scruff of his neck. Yeo-won’s face drained of all color at the sight of him dangling like a piece of baggage.
“Gently—!”
As Yeo-won panicked and tried to rise, Shin-wol spoke with icy calm.
Her small shoulders jerked. He was not speaking of her, but of Cheong-sil.
Yeo-won’s worried gaze darted between Cheong-sil and Shin-wol before she quietly sat back down.
Only after confirming she would remain still did Shin-wol’s attention return to the fox.
The small body lifted from his hand and floated into the air, enveloped by a curtain of turquoise light. Within it, Cheong-sil’s wounds began to mend. Soon the curtain drifted downward, burst like a soap bubble, and dropped the fox gently to the floor.
Startled, Yeo-won leaned closer. Not only were the injuries gone, but every trace of filth had been cleaned away. Cheong-sil lay soft and fluffy, breathing evenly in sleep. The blood that had stained his mouth had vanished completely.
Watching Yeo-won examine the fox with her eyes alone, too afraid to touch him, Shin-wol narrowed his gaze.
Growing impatient, he snapped his fingers. Cheong-sil disappeared.
Yeo-won whipped her head toward him. Her eyes held a silent protest. With a faint flicker of irritation crossing his face, he flicked his fingers again.
Yeo-won’s body rose lightly into the air and settled once more onto the golden bed.
Despite the threatening words, his hands were gentle as he took hold of her ankle. Yeo-won accepted the treatment in silence.
Yet her worry for Cheong-sil remained unchanged.
She told herself he surely had not truly cast the fox out, but knowing it was Shin-wol, she could not be certain. She chewed her lip anxiously.
Yeo-won stole a glance at him and spoke with caution.
“Is Cheong-sil all right?”
“Just because he won’t die doesn’t mean he can’t feel pain.”
Her strangely sullen reply made the hand stroking her ankle press harder.
A sharp sting drew a small whimper from between Yeo-won’s teeth.
He seemed deeply, genuinely angry.
“How could I possibly— ah!”
The hand on her ankle tightened again. Tears sprang to her eyes.
The sharp words pierced her chest like daggers. Yeo-won knew it herself. Time and again, while relying on Cheong-sil’s help, she had felt utterly powerless.
“He came to save me at great risk to himself. How could I abandon him and run? Besides, the ghost threatened to kill Cheong-sil, so I had no choice but to—”
Meeting his eyes, heavy with concern, Yeo-won caught her breath. He released her ankle roughly and sneered.
…
The ankle Shin-wol had touched no longer throbbed. The bruise still stained her skin, but the earlier pain had vanished. Yeo-won ran her fingers over it, then lowered her head with a gloomy expression.
She understood that his words were not mere criticism but stemmed from worry.
Yet was that worry truly for her?
Was it concern for the marble inside her, or was he once again seeing someone else in her place?
The doubt that rose so suddenly left a dark smudge upon her heart. She had never thought this way before. Strangely, her chest stung as though pricked by a needle.
His indifferent voice came from above her head. Indeed, Yeo-won was so covered in injuries that it was easier to locate the uninjured places.
Sorcery was convenient, but not all-powerful.
It could not revive the dead or heal fatal wounds, and treatment required the recipient’s own strength to endure. Forcing more on Yeo-won, who already looked exhausted simply sitting upright, would only cause her to collapse.
He snapped his fingers. In an instant, her tattered clothes transformed. The rags vanished, replaced by a white jacket and a voluminous skirt.
With those final words, Shin-wol turned away without hesitation. Remaining any longer would only yield harsher speech.
Shin-wol had indeed noticed the minor spirits hovering around Yeo-won and had deliberately left them there.
Words alone would not have reached her, so he had meant to let her taste true fear before drawing her to his side.
As expected, she had been terrified. While she drowned in her trauma, Shin-wol had briefly considered the idea.
What if he shattered her mind completely? She would never defy him again.
Deciding it was not a bad plan, he had watched from the shadows—until the fallen Yeo-won began to cry and move her lips in silent desperation.
Approaching just enough to avoid the Eodukseoni’s notice, he had read the depths of her heart.
Countless memories flooded in. Her tragic past. The elderly relative who had hated her. The Eodukseoni had artfully amplified her trauma to heighten her terror.
Yet one memory pushed back against the fear.
It was recent. The day they had played Go together.
In a dark, narrow cave, she had whispered that if possible, she wanted to play one more game with him.
If her mind broke, she would never be able to play Go with him again.
For that reason alone, Shin-wol had rescued her far sooner than he had intended.
Seeing her face—far more battered than it had appeared from a distance—unfamiliar rage had surged through him.
Even erasing the entire area without a trace and burning the main body in hellfire would not have been enough.
The fact that he had ultimately refrained filled him with self-disgust.
Suddenly, Myeong-an’s words echoed in his mind like a distant bell.
At the sound of Cheon-sin’s voice ringing like an omen, a bitter smile curved his lips.
A small flame flickered to life at his feet as he walked toward the door, then vanished.
Just as his slitted pupils began to tremble violently, Shin-wol suddenly stopped.
He turned his head slowly. Yeo-won was clutching the hem of his outer robe.
“…Are you going out?”
Her cheeks were faintly flushed as she asked the careful question. She seemed embarrassed by the way her lips pressed into a tight line.
The brown eyes looking up at him trembled slightly, fear lingering deep within them. No doubt the trauma the Eodukseoni had forced upon her.
Her grip was so weak that she would clearly release him the moment he told her to.
Yet the simple fact that she had unconsciously reached for him tightened something in his chest. In the end, Shin-wol could not bring himself to shake off that small hand.