Vol 1 Chapter 1 – Heukcheon Pt 3

The fact that he was so visibly shaken now was because, just moments ago, he had been thinking of Kang Oh’s Master.

“I was looking for a path and noticed a firelight. I simply followed it.”

That was a lie.

Woo knew it immediately.

Their encounter at the stream might have been a coincidence. But now, after being moved to a remote mountain in near exile, running into Kang Oh again could not be chance.

“You… followed the firelight?”

Kang Oh nodded.

At that moment, a wolf’s howl echoed from somewhere in the distance.

“There was a report of wolves nearby.”

It was an excuse, hastily given. But Kang Oh’s face remained perfectly composed. He spoke with practiced ease, pretending to be surprised as he continued.

“Still, didn’t you say yesterday that you served my master directly?”

“Yes.”

Woo bowed quickly, his head bobbing with each word. Kang Oh’s tone grew quieter.

“Then why were you transferred here?”

“I made some mistakes… and was punished for them.”

It was a lie, and a poor one. He could not even hide the nervous glance in his eyes. Kang Oh stared at him for a long moment, then clicked his tongue.

Even when he had told his master that the servant should be given time to rest and a dose of Golden Essence Tonic, he had not truly expected it would be honored. But to send him away to this extent felt excessive.

It was strange.

What puzzled Kang Oh more than anything was the fact that he had come all this way, chasing after a lowly servant.

One of his subordinates had just returned from a surveillance mission and reported that the Third Overseer had relocated the servant to a remote mountain. The moment he heard that, Kang Oh had risen to his feet. He had already placed men near the overseer in case something happened, and it was only thanks to that precaution that he learned the servant had been moved.

Still, Heukcheon’s territory was vast, and this mountain was so far removed from human presence that finding him felt no different than searching for a needle in sand.

The more he thought about it, the stranger his master’s actions seemed. Yae Jinrang had allowed him to investigate the abuse. But instead of dealing with the offender, the punishment had fallen on the victim. And it was not as if Woo had been exiled either. He had merely been pushed aside. Still kept within Heukcheon’s bounds, but moved out of sight.

It was as if Yae Jinrang could neither cast him out nor keep him close. As if he had been placed just far enough to be forgotten, yet not fully erased.

The very fact that his residence had been changed with no stated reason was suspicious enough.

So Kang Oh had not sent others to watch him. He had come himself.

He remembered that his master often stepped back the moment he intervened.

“A punishment, is it. And what kind of task were you given?”

“I… was told to clear the mountain’s trees. That was all.”

Kang Oh turned his head slightly and caught sight of the axe embedded in a tree stump. His vision, far sharper than an ordinary person’s, immediately confirmed what he suspected. The axe was missing teeth. Rust had eaten away at the blade. It could no longer be called functional. A dry scoff slipped from his lips.

It almost felt as though his master was personally tormenting this worthless servant.

“How did you come to know my master?”

Woo’s lips moved slightly.

“When… when I was dying, he… he saved me.”

It sounded like an answer he had prepared ahead of time.

“So that is what you owe him. Is that why you endure the abuse and refuse to leave?”

“Ab… abuse? That… that’s not…”

Woo lifted his head in panic and shook it quickly.

“I saw your body the first time we met. Are you lying to me?”

“I… it… it was punishment. I was too… too slow.”

He wanted to bite his tongue. His stuttering had started after he recovered. The sentences always came clearly in his mind, but when he tried to speak, the words tangled. He had long since stopped thinking of it as a problem. He rarely spoke to others anyway. But now, in this moment, he wished he had bitten through his tongue just to claim injury and avoid answering.

No matter how reasonable his words might sound, he knew they would be heard only as excuses. Especially under that gaze, the one Kang Oh fixed on him now, like it could see straight through him.

“A person who swings late and takes the blow has no place in Heukcheon.”

“No… it’s not… that.”

The pressure was overwhelming. Cold sweat clung to his back. His thoughts turned white, and he could no longer respond. All he could do was shake his head.

What is happening? Why am I like this?

There had been a time when he was called a once-in-a-generation talent. Surrounded by scholars and masters. He had learned a hundred things for every one he was taught. That was what the world had said about him.

But now, his mind felt frozen. Like it had sunk into mud.

Seeing him stiffen like a frightened bird, Kang Oh finally fell silent.

He was not the most sociable of people, but even he could tell that this reaction was not normal. And despite what people said about his cold nature, he was not someone who took pleasure in tormenting the helpless.

“Thank you for sharing your fire. Consider this your payment.”

Kang Oh stood and pulled something from his robes, a vial of Golden Essence Tonic. He pressed it into Woo’s hand. He had brought it with him on a whim, just in case. He never thought he would actually give it away.

Woo jolted as though burned. He shot up from the ground.

“I can’t accept this!”

It was the first time he had spoken without stuttering. But he didn’t notice. He reached out across the fire to return it to Kang Oh, not even thinking. He didn’t stop to register what was in his hand.

“Careful.”

Kang Oh grabbed his wrist and yanked it aside. In the same motion, he tore Woo’s sleeve and threw it to the ground, stomping out the edge of his robe that had caught fire.

“What are you doing?”

A sharp voice burst from Kang Oh. He had not expected to feel so thrown off. The first reason was that he never imagined a gift offered in good faith would be refused. The second was Woo’s unwavering attempt to return it, even in the face of his anger.

“Please… take it back.”

Head lowered, Woo held out the Golden Essence Tonic once again. On his arm, just beneath where he gripped the bottle, a fresh burn had already begun to form. He had received the salve as treatment, yet in trying to give it back, he had injured himself.

To Kang Oh, it was incomprehensible.

Woo seemed to care more about returning the medicine than tending to his own wounds. He hadn’t even looked to see what he was holding.

It was foolish. Too foolish. It no longer seemed like the act of someone merely unthinking.

He looked broken.

“Fine. I understand.”

Kang Oh’s voice was cold as he snatched the vial from Woo’s hand.

He turned slightly, ready to leave. He would confront the Third Overseer and wash his hands of this strange, infuriating servant once and for all. That was what he told himself.

But instead of leaving, he opened the vial.

He stepped forward and took hold of Woo’s arm.

“Huh…?”

“Hold still.”

The cool salve touched his skin, and Woo flinched.

The scent was familiar.

Golden Essence Tonic.

And not the common kind either. The quality was obvious from the first whiff.

Woo had once lived surrounded by only the best. He knew this fragrance well.

The moment he realized what Kang Oh was applying, he tried to pull his arm back. But with the strength he had now, there was no way to break free from that grip.

“Stay still.”

The voice came again, low and quiet.

Woo lowered his head.

“Who reaches their hand across open fire like that? If you wanted to return it, you could have just said so.”

“It… it is too much for me.”

He mumbled the words softly. Kang Oh finished applying the ointment and stood. Woo clearly had no intention of accepting the medicine, so he decided he might as well apply it to his back as well. It was an unusual gesture, and he knew it. But for some reason, he could not bring himself to walk away.

“This won’t heal the burn completely, but it should ease the pain.”

He moved behind Woo, noticing the goosebumps rising along the back of his neck. The air was cool, but not enough to bother a martial artist. For someone like this, though, the mountain chill would bite deep.

He let out a quiet sigh.

“Your back.”

He kept his tone flat, not wanting anything else to slip through.

Woo slowly pulled up his shirt.

He had stopped resisting. Whatever Kang Oh wanted, he would just let it happen. The sooner it was over, the sooner he would leave.

He only hoped this would be the last time they ever crossed paths.

Under the moonlight, Woo’s back came into view. There was nothing alluring about it, only the impression of quiet, worn-down suffering.

Back at the stream, Kang Oh hadn’t looked closely. This time, he saw everything.

He scooped out a measure of tonic and spread it across the skin. His hand moved over the bony frame, tracing the outline of someone who had endured far too much.

The story this body told was clearer than anything Woo could have said.

He paused for a breath. Being this close felt unnatural.

He wasn’t used to physical closeness. His instincts resisted it. Yet here he was, hand on another person’s bare skin, and the sensation left him unsettled.

Woo’s face had gone pale. Then faintly red. Then pale again.

As Kang Oh’s hand remained where it was, Woo seemed to freeze. The tension between them grew unbearable. Time itself seemed to stretch.

He stood there, motionless, waiting for it to be over. His thoughts had long since stopped.

He should have accepted the medicine the moment it was offered.

But when Kang Oh reached out his hand, his mind had gone completely blank.

The fire crackled beside them, but it did nothing to soften the cold pressing in from the mountain air.

His chest felt tight. He hadn’t wanted to accept anything from Kang Oh. The shame of past mistakes still weighed too heavily.

Foolish. He had been so foolish. And this sinful life continued because of it.

He should have taken Kang Oh to Yae Jinrang and disappeared. Even if his legs failed, he should have crawled as far from Heukcheon, and from Kang Oh, as his body would allow.

But back then, part of him had thought that just passing by from a distance would be enough.

He had never intended to see Kang Oh again. But there had been a quiet, unspoken wish to at least remain close. Just enough to see him rise, to watch him grow into something radiant beneath Yae Jinrang’s hand.

He had believed he wanted nothing.

But the desire had already taken root.

He had lived too long with everything handed to him. Even when he longed for something, he hadn’t recognized it as longing.

Wanting to live under the same sky as Kang Oh had already been too much. Why had he taken so long to understand that?

“You can put your clothes back on now.”

“Th… thank you.”

The treatment, which had felt as if it might never end, was finally over.

Woo pulled his clothes back around himself and edged away. Kang Oh watched him in silence, a faint crease between his brows. The way this servant avoided his eyes left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He could not understand what kind of malice his master could possibly bear toward someone this powerless. Yae Jinrang was temperamental, sharp, and impulsive. He had no need to consider others and possessed the strength to support that freedom. People often said the Lord of Heukcheon was cold and terrifying, but Kang Oh knew his master could also be surprisingly free of grudges. He was blunt by nature. If something displeased him, he dealt with it directly and on the spot.

If he had belonged to the righteous martial world, people would have called him passionate and bold. It was only because he led the demonic path that even his smallest gesture invited dark rumors.

This made Kang Oh all the more curious about his master’s relationship with this servant. If Yae Jinrang disliked him, taking his life would be easier than wringing the neck of a sick bird. Why keep him alive only to put him through this?

Kang Oh felt a seed of doubt begin to take root. Yae Jinrang had saved his life. He had accepted him as a disciple despite having no connection to him. He had given him a name and even his family name. Still, the discomfort he felt whenever Woo came up only grew stronger with every encounter.

He could not investigate his own master. That was unthinkable for someone in his position. In Heukcheon, even thinking of doing something outside Yae Jinrang’s sight was almost impossible. Yet Kang Oh wanted to remove the doubt from his heart as quickly as possible.

If his master would not give him answers, then Woo would have to.

“I’ll be nearby for a while. There’s a wolf to catch.”

Kang Oh repeated the same excuse he had used earlier. There was no real need to explain himself to a servant, but the words left his mouth anyway.

“A wolf, I see. If there is anything this lowly can do, please let me know.”

Woo bowed his head, then regretted it. What help could he possibly offer? He could barely stay on his feet. At best, he could promise not to get in the way.

He should have stayed quiet. Why had he spoken as if they would meet again? Maybe some part of him still hadn’t let go.

“Get some rest.”

“Ah… yes, I…”

He faltered. The Third Overseer wasn’t likely to come anytime soon, but if someone else appeared, how could he explain Kang Oh’s visit? No one would believe it.

For a moment, he even considered starting a fire. Just enough to draw attention to this place. But wildfires were unpredictable, and if the flames spread, even someone like Kang Oh could be hurt. All he could do now was hope Yae Jinrang would somehow hear that his disciple had come to the mountain.

Earlier, he had bowed in thanks. But even now, after Kang Oh had said nothing more, he remained kneeling.

Kang Oh pressed his lips together. His presence only seemed to make things harder. That thought sat uncomfortably with him. He had no desire to watch someone already worn down lie against the cold earth.

The longer he stayed, the longer Woo would remain bowed.

He exhaled quietly and turned to leave. His steps were light and soundless. Within moments, his figure had vanished into the trees.

Even after the last trace of him disappeared, Woo stayed where he was, still bowed to the ground. He couldn’t sense when Kang Oh had gone. He could only wait.

He was afraid to lift his head. Afraid of meeting his eyes again. Afraid that the tears forming at the corners would be seen. That Kang Oh might recognize the sorrow, the regret, and the quiet joy that refused to be hidden.

The fire crackled softly.

In the silence, it was the only sound that remained.

Crickets called from somewhere beyond the trees.

Only then did Woo begin to believe that Kang Oh had truly left. Slowly, he sat back and lowered himself to the ground. The sting on his arm had begun to throb, but he said nothing.

He simply hugged his knees and waited for the pain to pass.

Time moved on. When he felt strong enough to get up, he stepped into the hut. It still smelled of mold, but there was a blanket and a worn mat for sleeping. It wasn’t much protection from the wind, but somehow, this frail little place had begun to feel like home.

Curled up and trying to sleep, Woo found his thoughts returning to the warmth of Kang Oh’s hand.

It had been warm, just like before.

He should never have let go of that hand. Even as he pushed Kang Oh away, telling himself it had to be done, he had always known the truth. Kang Oh would never truly cast him aside.

Born into comfort, Woo had never needed to understand loss.

His mother had ensured that. She had always given him more, fearful that he might lack anything. Even if she had to take it from someone else, she never hesitated if she believed it belonged to her son. Woo had grown up with the best of everything. And in the end, he had only become a clever fool.

Lately, the past had come to him more often than he liked.

He clenched his jaw and tried to shake it off. There was no point remembering things that could never be restored. He had no plans to go back, so why carry those memories forward?

As he closed his eyes, the smell of mold from the blanket drifted up. Beneath it lingered the faint, cool scent of the medicine still on his skin.

There was no silk bedding. No incense from faraway lands.

But for some reason, tonight, he felt like he might finally sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was already high in the sky.

He stepped outside and froze when he saw how late it was. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept past morning. Usually, the discomfort would keep him half-awake through the night, and he would rise with the dawn, no matter how tired he was.

Sleeping through half the day felt unnatural.

If the Third Overseer had come, the punishment would have been swift.

A flicker of panic rose in his chest as he hurried to the place where he had left the axe. He had been told to clear the mountain’s trees. It was a task that could take days. Maybe even the rest of the year.

He had tested the axe before and already knew what to expect. The handle was brittle, ready to split at any moment. The blade was rusted and dull. He would need ten swings just to make a single cut. Worse still, the head might fly off the handle.

But he had no other tools. He couldn’t do the job with his hands alone.

By now, it was impossible to tell what would give out first. The axe or his body.

He sighed.

The winter days were short. And now, he had already lost precious hours. Still, it had been a long time since his body had felt this rested. That small truth brought the faintest smile to his lips.

He still had to finish the grain sifter he had started. Without it, there would be no way to clean the rice properly.

His hands weren’t skilled. He had always relied on others for everything. Now he had no choice but to make do with what he had.

First, he needed to eat. So he picked up the bark he had peeled the day before and began to weave.