***

Chirp, chirp.

The birds had been chirping since early morning and Woo-hye’s eyes had flown open.

“……”

Why can’t I see? Is it still night?

Then suddenly memories flooded back, cutting through the haze in her mind.

‘Ah… that’s right. I was kidnapped.’

The last thing she remembered was being punched in the neck by that suspicious man dressed in all black with his face covered.

So what was her situation now?

Judging by the sensations, sounds and smells around her, she could tell – this wasn’t the river.

She was in her own house.

‘How…?’

To confirm her guess, Woo-hye reached for the usual place where she kept her stick.

Thud.

Her hand touched the stick.

It really was her room.

“Haa…”

A deep sigh of relief escaped her lips.

What had happened during her unconsciousness to bring her back home?

Could that man really have come to rescue her?

‘No… he was far too suspicious. Not a word from him.’

Anyway, she was safe and that was all that mattered.

“Ugh.”

Woo-hye tried to sit up, but immediately collapsed from the pain that shot through her body.

It felt as if her whole body had been beaten.

She also had a fever and chills.

The side effects of the poison needles, combined with everything that had happened the day before, had clearly worsened her condition.

‘Of all the times…’

It seemed that this time she’d be without her sight for quite some time.

People didn’t often realise it, but in truth, light and darkness had weight.

Light was light.

When it touched her body, it felt so light that she wanted to dance. Her whole body felt like it was floating.

But darkness – darkness was heavy.

It pressed down on her like the foot of a giant, suffocating and crushing her completely.

The darkness clung to her body with a density heavier than being submerged in water – perhaps even heavier than sinking in oil.

Every breath felt choked by a sticky, suffocating blackness.

Even when lying still, she was out of breath, panting as cold sweat trickled down her skin.

In the darkness, even when someone was right next to her, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being utterly abandoned.

She began to believe that others were deceiving her – that even her own memories were lies. She couldn’t trust the information her other senses were sending her, no matter how clear they spoke.

Nothing felt reliable.

And that – more than anything else – was what Woo-hye hated most.

Not being able to trust anything.

Even the words of the people she loved – deep inside she began to doubt them, to reject them.

And whenever that happened, she felt an unbearable loneliness that made her want to die.

‘Is it really morning?’

Even when she opened her eyes, the world remained pitch black, like a moonless night. She tried to get used to it – but each time she was overwhelmed.

‘Do I lack the ability to learn? Am I really so weak, so stupid?’

Her mind mocked her, cold and distant – but her trembling body refused to listen.

For now, all she could do was regulate her shallow breaths until she felt stable again.

On days like this, the dark emotions she had locked away beneath her consciousness would burst forth like vengeful spirits released from their seal.

And one by one, they began to crush her.

Her mother, shrivelling like a withered tree.

The death of her eldest brother, lost to the war.

Her mother’s death soon after.

Seol Mi-hee’s smile.

Her father, only concerned with profit.

The day she arrived in Doha, when she couldn’t see.

Revenge.

Self-loathing.

Anger.

Grief.

Helplessness.

Frustration.

Despair.

Fear.

“Hyang-eum… Hyang-eum…”

Woo-hye murmured weakly, her voice fading to almost nothing as she called for Hyang-eum.

Even if it wasn’t her – the warmth of anyone would have been enough at that moment.

Then, not wanting to reveal her condition, she bit down hard on her lip and endured the pain in silence.

‘If I let anyone see me like this, I lose. They’ll all mock me, say I acted like I had it all together, that I was fearless – only to end up like this.’

She wanted to prove to herself and the world that she was doing well, that she was living right, that she hadn’t been wrong.

The mistakes of her childhood were enough.

On that day, she hadn’t overcome her fear and had climbed a mountain until she was bloody, intending to end her life – it had to end there.

‘I wasn’t wrong. I won’t stop until I’ve destroyed Seol Mi-hee and everyone in the Dan family.’

This thought alone kept Woo-hye going, kept her going through everything.

“……”

Only when her face was drenched with tears did the trembling in her body finally begin to subside.

With great effort, Woo-hye sat up, still weak. She grabbed a handkerchief from nearby and wiped her face.

There was no need to check – she knew her face was pale and dry, drained of life.

She didn’t want Hyang-eum to see her like that.

Hyang-eum would surely go somewhere and cry in secret.

And because Woo-hye had done the same thing many times before, she understood exactly where this behaviour came from. This made her even more determined not to worry Hyang-eum.

‘Still, it’s strange… Things are way too quiet, considering I’ve been kidnapped.’

If Hyang-eum had found out, knowing her personality, she wouldn’t have left Woo-hye’s side for a second.

‘Maybe she’s brewing medicine?’

Wondering if she could smell it from here, Woo-hye got out of bed.

The room she used was a small one, tucked away in a corner of the house.

It wasn’t suitable to be the master’s room, but for Woo-hye – who couldn’t see – large rooms were inconvenient. It was a necessary choice.

The layout of the palm-sized room was engraved in her mind, and she easily found the window and opened it.

Birdsong came through clearly.

And she could faintly smell medicine being brewed.

Since Hyang-eum was the only one in the house who did that, Woo-hye finally felt at ease.

Just then, a light breeze blew through the open window –

At that moment, a light breeze carried the scent not of medicine but of peach blossoms.

True to its name, the house Na Ryeo-eun left behind in Doha, called Yeonmowon (‘Garden of Affection’), had a single peach tree.

Hyang-eum had once said that when the window of this room was opened, its branches came so close that the view was breathtaking when it was in bloom.

Woo-hye had never seen it herself, of course.

She stretched her hand over the window.

Just as she had grown from a girl to a woman in the past seven years, so had the peach tree.

Perhaps its blossoms could reach here now.

Her attempt to grab a peach blossom became more and more desperate – a silent, desperate struggle.

Not being able to catch a single blossom felt like proof of her own helplessness.

‘If I can’t manage something so small, how can I ever get revenge?’

‘Am I really capable of anything? Or is it all just an illusion? Like those blossoms, so close and yet always just out of reach.’

‘Come on… just let me catch one. Please…’

Just as her body was about to collapse, she heard the flutter of birds taking to the sky – and something brushed her fingertips.

“Oh?”

It was a texture as soft as silk.

What was it?

Woo-hye, startled as if burned, withdrew her hand, then cautiously reached out again.

It was a flower.

Woo-hye gently cradled it in her fingers.

Imagining its soft pink petals, she caressed it carefully, over and over again, making sure not to damage it.

At that moment, something warm brushed lightly against her cheek and fell away.

It touched the exact spot where sweat had trickled down earlier.

“Who is it? Hyang-eum?”

But no matter how long she waited, there was no answer.

‘Was I imagining it?’

Perhaps it had just been a falling petal brushing her cheek.

Since nothing else happened, Woo-hye didn’t think much of it and continued to touch the flower.

The human heart was a fickle thing.

Moments ago, she’d felt like she was in hell – and now the touch of a single petal was enough to make her smile.

“It must be beautiful…”

Woo-hye ran her fingers over the peach blossoms again and again until she was satisfied.

So that she could picture them vividly in her mind.

So that she would never forget what they felt like.

And as her fingers carefully traced each delicate shape, spring flowed quietly into her heart.

“Achoo!”

Whether it was the cold or the pollen, a sneeze finally broke out.

Reluctantly, but not wanting to aggravate her condition, Woo-hye closed the window.

Still, what had started as a dreadful day had turned around thanks to the peach blossoms.

With a much lighter heart, drowsiness washed over her.

Still under the influence of the drug and with her body weakened, she couldn’t hold out any longer and collapsed into bed, falling fast asleep.

When Hyang-eum, who had just finished brewing the medicine, came to wake her up, Woo-hye’s body was already feeling much better.

“Well, what a surprise – you slept in today? But that’s good. When you’re sick, there’s no better medicine than sleep. So how are you feeling? The fever seems to have gone down quite a bit.”

“Mm, I can manage.”

“I’ve also brought you some water for washing. As soon as you feel better, take your medicine.”

Just as Hyang-eum said, Woo-hye drank the hot infusion after washing her face and shaking off the drowsiness.

She winced at the bitter taste, tears stinging her eyes – just as something sweet fell into her mouth.

A sugar treat.

Woo-hye rolled it around with her tongue, trying to wash away the bitterness.

“By the way, Hyang-eum… how did I get home?”

“I didn’t think you’d remember. You really had a close call yesterday!”

‘Yesterday.’

So it had been a whole day since the kidnapping.

“I just went out to buy some sweets and when I came back – you were gone! Do you know how scared I was?”

By then she had probably been loaded onto the ferry.

‘But… it sounds like I just wandered away from the apothecary on my own, not like I was kidnapped.’

Almost as if reading her thoughts, Hyang-eum scolded her.

“No matter how suffocated you felt, why did you go outside? You know how weak your body gets after those poisonous needles. You collapsed on the street – thank goodness it was Young Master Cheong-un who found you…”

‘What?’

“Cheong-un? You mean that Cheong-un from the Taesang Merchant Guild?”

“Yes! He looked exactly like the portrait, so I recognised him even without hearing his name.”

Hyang-eum let out a long sigh.

“He carried you to Doctor Maeng’s clinic. He also paid for your treatment. Just what you’d expect from a wealthy young master – he’s certainly not stingy.”

Doctor Maeng was known for charging high fees and only treating those who could afford it.

“Fortunately, one of his servants saw me looking for you and told me where you were. If it wasn’t for him, I would have turned Doha upside down.

“Cheong-un… saved me…?”

She didn’t know why, but the fact that she had been kidnapped had effectively been erased.

The fact that even Hyang-eum was unaware of it meant that Pungwoo-gak hadn’t caught wind of it either.

Whoever had saved her had deliberately concealed the truth.