Kang-oh furrowed his brow, feeling uneasy about the sight of the servant who tried so hard to avoid making eye contact. He couldn’t begin to guess what kind of ill will his master might harbor towards such a frail human as this.

Ye Jin-rang was unpredictable, prickly, and impulsive. He held a position so high that he had no need to mind others, and he possessed the power to back it up. People often spoke of the Black Sky Lord in hushed tones, calling him a terrifying and ruthless man, but Kang-oh knew better—his master wasn’t the type to hold grudges. Jin-rang’s straightforward nature meant that if he had a problem, he was the type to resolve it immediately.

If Jin-rang had belonged to the White Path, people would have described him, even with his short temper, as a bold and forthright man. Alas, because he was one of the leaders of the Black Path, even a sneeze from him would give rise to sinister rumors. For this reason, Kang-oh had become increasingly curious about the relationship between his master and the servant, Woo. If Jin-rang didn’t like someone, he would have easily taken their life, no more difficult than snapping the neck of a sickly chicken. Why, then, did he keep this servant alive and continue to torment him? Kang-oh, daring as it might seem, began to feel a budding distrust towards his master.

After all, Ye Jin-rang was the one who had saved Kang-oh when he was on the verge of death, who had taken him in as a disciple despite their lack of any prior connection, and who had even given him his name. Ye Jin-rang was undeniably a benefactor. And yet, the more conversations Kang-oh had with the servant Woo, the more this gnawing sense of unease grew. Of course, he couldn’t openly investigate his master’s affairs—not when he was a disciple of the Black Sky Lord himself. In the Black Sky clan, it was nearly impossible to act without Ye Jin-rang noticing.

Still, Kang-oh wanted to rid himself of this seed of doubt as quickly as possible. If he couldn’t get answers from Jin-rang directly, then he would have to get them from Woo instead.

“I’ll be in the area for a while. I need to hunt down a certain wolf.”

Kang-oh didn’t even need to give this excuse, especially to a mere servant, but the words tumbled from his lips anyway.

“A w-wolf, you say… understood. If there is anything I can do to help… please let me know, without hesitation.”

Woo bowed his head as he stammered his response. At the same time, he wanted to slap himself. Help? How could he possibly help? What could he even do? With his weak and sickly body, the best he could hope for was not getting in Kang-oh’s way. In fact, wasn’t his goal to minimize all contact with the man? So why had he just spoken as though they might interact again in the future? Was there still some lingering attachment?

“Rest well.”

“I… Understood…”

Woo hesitated for a moment, lost in thought, trailing off because he realized he shouldn’t have spoken so rashly. He knew the Third Overseer weren’t likely to appear anytime soon, so how could he pass along word of Kang-oh’s arrival? Setting the woods aflame might force the Third Overseer to come, but the fire would be uncontrollable—no matter how skilled Kang-oh was, he could easily be caught in the blaze and gravely injured. All Woo could do was hope that Jin-rang would soon realize his youngest disciple had shown up in these lowly hills.

Kang-oh, meanwhile, quietly closed his lips. Woo had remained prostrate on the cold ground since gratefully bowing after his wounds had been treated, showing no signs of rising. It seemed Kang-oh’s presence only caused discomfort to Woo, and though this fact sat uneasily with him, he didn’t want to leave the ailing man to lie on the hard, cold floor any longer.

The longer this dragged on and the longer he stayed, the more obvious it became that Woo wouldn’t be able to rest. Kang-oh sighed and quietly left the scene, his form vanishing from sight.

Even after Kang-oh’s shadow had completely disappeared, Woo remained prostrate on the ground. He dared not raise his head, timidly gauging if Kang-oh had truly left, afraid that he might meet eyes with the man. After more than a decade of keeping his distance, he found himself overwhelmed by the warmth in Kang-oh’s touch—the warmth that had now laid bare Woo’s inescapable regret and the joy he couldn’t hide. He didn’t want Kang-oh to see these feelings in his tear-filled eyes.

Crackle, crackle—

Amidst the silence, only the sound of flames burning remained.

Hearing the faint chirping of insects in the distance, Woo decided Kang-oh had indeed left and slowly rose to his feet, collapsing into a weary heap shortly afterward. The pain from the fresh burns on his arm hit him all at once, but Woo didn’t let a single groan escape his lips. He merely curled up, hugging his knees tightly until the pain subsided.

After some time had passed, Woo finally judged that he could stand up and headed inside the hut. Although there was some mold, there was still a blanket and even a straw mat to lie on. The hut, which was so flimsy that its only role had been to block the wind, now somehow resembled a home.

“….”

Woo, who was curled up and trying to force himself to sleep, suddenly recalled the touch of Kang-oh’s hand on his back. It was warm. Just like in the distant past. He should never have let go of that hand from the start. No matter how harshly he pushed Kang-oh away, telling himself that it couldn’t go on like this, he knew that Kang-oh wouldn’t be discarded in the end. Having been born with everything in his grasp, how could he understand loss? Woo’s mother was a woman who constantly gave him more, fearing he might lack anything. Even if she had to take it from others, she didn’t hesitate if she thought it belonged to Woo.

Woo had received all sorts of education, but in the end, he was nothing more than a fool for all that learning. Recently, Woo had found himself thinking a lot about the past, but he grit his teeth and shook off those memories. He had no intention of going back, so what was the point of constantly recalling it? When he closed his eyes, he caught the musty smell of the blanket. There was also the cool herbal scent of the wound ointment he had applied to his body. There was no familiar silk bedding, no incense brought from the Western Regions, but somehow, tonight, he felt like he might easily fall asleep.”

---

When Woo finally woke up, it was the tail end of the morning. Crawling out of the hut, Woo was utterly shocked to see the sun approaching midday. Never before had Woo slept so long. Normally, Woo would toss and turn in discomfort and then wake up at dawn to start wandering around. Though the body complained of fatigue from the lack of proper rest, Woo would start the day’s tasks without ever lying back down. But to sleep late? If the triplet guards had come by, he’d have been in deep trouble.

Jumping to his feet in a hurry, Woo headed to the spot where he had seen the axe the day before. He had been ordered to clear all the trees from the hillside, which meant he’d have to be at it the entire day.

Still, it was uncertain whether he could finish before the year ended. To make matters worse, after using the axe a bit yesterday, he had realized the handle was rotted and creaked, and the rusty axe blade had grown so dull that a job that should take one strike took ten. And that wasn’t even the end of it; at any moment, the iron blade and wooden handle could separate completely. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t chop wood with his bare hands. He couldn’t tell whether the trees would be felled first or if the axe would break first.

Woo clicked his tongue in frustration.

The days were already so short, but now he had slept in too long. Still, this was also the first time in a long while that he had felt this refreshed, and a small laugh escaped from his lips as he acknowledged how good his body felt.

‘That reminds me, I also need to finish making the winnowing basket to separate the grains from the chaff. But…’

Having lived so long relying on others for everything, Woo wasn’t much of a skilled craftsman, and the thought of the job ahead left him feeling hopeless.

First of all, since he needed to eat immediately, it seemed right to make the sieve first. Woo began weaving the bark that had been peeled the day before. The roughness of the unevenly trimmed bark caused splinters to prick his fingertips. To make matters worse, his arm, which had been burned, kept throbbing with pain. Even though he had applied a good ointment, the pain was not going to disappear in just one night. Reaching over the fire had, after all, been a foolish thing to do. At the time, he hadn’t even realized it… Though clucking his tongue wouldn’t make the burn go away now.

Sitting hunched over while weaving the bark was starting to make his back ache as well. Still, it was fortunate that he had applied the ointment. Suddenly recalling Kang-oh’s touch made Woo’s ears turn red. What a kind child. They had always been that way.

The finished sieve in his hands looked rather clumsy. Woo furrowed his brow, doubtful it would even serve its purpose, but he knew there was no point in asking Third Overseer for proper materials. Bringing over the rice that had sand mixed in, he placed it on the sieve and shook it. It seemed like some of the sand was being filtered out. For what couldn’t be seen, he would just have to spit it out while eating.

He took a small pot from the hut and went to the stream he had discovered the previous day to fetch some water. Pouring a scoop of water and the rice, from which he had filtered the sand, into the pot, he placed it over the fire. Then, he grabbed the lid, which no longer had a handle, and covered the pot. He sat in front of the fire to watch it.

In the past, Woo wouldn’t have even imagined cooking for himself. At mealtime, a lavish feast was always prepared for him. Having such a picky palate, he often left food unfinished, and on days when the side dishes weren’t to his liking, he would sometimes send the entire meal back to the kitchen. But now, even rice with sand mixed in was something to be thankful for.

He had indulged in every luxury imaginable. He had taken it for granted. However, when Woo realized that his entire life was like that of a cuckoo chick that had taken over someone else’s nest, the despair, anger, and sense of betrayal he felt were beyond words.

The blazing fire flickered with red-hot tongues, and even its wavering seemed to mock Woo’s foolishness. He buried his face in his hands and rubbed it several times as if trying to wipe away his troubled thoughts. There was no point in lingering on them, as they offered nothing beneficial. He had no intention of returning to the fields from that day, making his thoughts futile attachments to the past.

The hurriedly prepared rice turned out better than expected. Woo, who was about to scoop the rice into a chipped bowl, suddenly realized that he had no spoon. He must have underestimated the mischief of the Third Overseer. It was indeed careless of him to think that a broken-handled pot lid would be the end of his ploys.