***

As the night deepened, the heavy snowfall escalated into a full-blown blizzard. The storm was so fierce that even opening one’s eyes became a struggle. Eventually, the soldiers searching the pits were forced to retreat.

“Sir, I’ll bring you some liquor to warm your body,” Woo-gong said.

When Ah-shin returned to his quarters, he shook off the snow that had piled on his head and shoulders. Woo-gong promptly ordered a maid to serve him hot liquor.

The maid who entered with the drink was a rare beauty, her elegance impossible to overlook.

Ah-shin immediately understood Woo-gong’s intentions. Sending this particular maid was a calculated move—an attempt to ease Ah-shin’s anger by presenting a woman even more beautiful than Kang Yul-hye.

But Ah-shin’s interest in Yul-hye had never been about her beauty. Despite serving Ah-shin closely for years, Woo-gong still failed to understand this about him.

“Leave the liquor and go.”

Ah-shin said curtly, dismissing the maid without a second glance. After she left, Ah-shin opened the window, letting the cold air rush in as he picked up the steaming liquor. The blizzard swept through the room, chilling it instantly, but he found the sharp, icy wind refreshing.

He preferred to keep his head clear and cold.

During the three years he had spent guarding the Hwangmyo, even in the depths of winter, he had refused to keep a brazier nearby.

When snow fell, Ah-shin would stand motionless beneath it, so still that anyone passing by might have mistaken him for a frozen snowman. He remained unmoving as he watched over the Hwangmyo.

The cold meant nothing to him. If anything, the colder it became, the sharper his senses grew. His mind would clear, and his thoughts would flow more smoothly, unhindered by distraction.

‘She must have hidden in a pit, but there are so many pits…’

He thought, his gaze fixed beyond the swirling snowstorm. To complicate matters further, he had heard there were pits unknown even to his men. If she had hidden in one of those forgotten hideouts, it could take months to locate her—though, realistically, she would likely flee long before then.

‘The daughter of a traitor.’

The daughter of a traitor, a girl with the surname Kang.

‘Did Kang Mu-yeol have a daughter?’

Ah-shin slowly searched his memory.

‘He seemed to have a young child…’

But whether that child was a daughter or a son, he couldn’t be sure. He had only heard rumors about the child’s existence; he had never seen the child in person.

‘She certainly stood out, though.’

When he first entered Gangseo Province, amidst the crowd gathered to welcome him, that woman immediately caught his eye.

She had a delicate face, though not one of extravagant beauty. The capital was filled with women far more dazzling than her.

Her features were striking, but that wasn’t what held his gaze.

Just before she lowered her head, their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, something in her gaze captured his attention.

There are times when such things happen—when something insignificant unexpectedly catches your eye. Like a leaf falling from a tree, dislodged by the wind, landing perfectly within your line of sight.

Sometimes, you pick up such things, press them into a book, and keep them for months, only to eventually discard them when they’ve grown old and brittle.

Insignificant as they might seem, there are rare moments when such things capture your gaze. She was one of those moments.

In that fleeting instant, their eyes met, and his curiosity was stirred. Once he showed even a hint of interest, that foolish husband of hers had delivered her to him without hesitation.

He had intended to toy with her for a few days before discarding her, but she had the audacity to escape after just one day.

Being treated with such disregard only fueled his anger further. Now, once he caught her, there was no chance he would let her go so easily.

Breaking that husband’s limbs, leaving him a cripple, and making him watch what happened next—well, that would be truly entertaining.

‘Still, I wonder if it’s too cold inside that pit.’

If the blizzard buried the pit entirely, could she survive unharmed?

‘Finding her frozen corpse would be disappointing.’

She needed to be alive when he found her. A dead body would serve no purpose.

Thunk.

Ah-shin set the glass down with a decisive movement and reached for the fur coat he had put aside earlier. He pulled it on and straightened up, his expression full of determination.

“With nothing else to do, I might as well finish what I’ve started.”

Yes. It was time.

Stopping because of a blizzard wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t stop until he’d seen her through to the end.

***

‘So cold…’

Yul-hye shivered violently.

Even wrapped in her leather coat and curled up tightly, the cold was relentless, piercing through every layer.

A pit like this was usually dug deep into the ground, lined with straw mats, and covered with wooden planks. Above the planks, soil was spread to conceal the pit, making it nearly undetectable.

Now, with the soil on the planks frozen solid, it was possible to remain completely hidden without anyone needing to cover her from above. The frozen ground provided natural camouflage.

The problem, however, was the snow. Flakes seeped through the gaps in the planks, and a considerable amount had already accumulated inside the pit, slowly encroaching on her cramped space.

The pit had been left unattended for so long that the boards above it were poorly sealed, allowing freezing air to enter unhindered.

‘It’s snowing… If it’s snowing, maybe they’ve paused their search for now, right?’

Yul-hye thought, grasping for some semblance of hope.

But the bitter cold gnawed at her relentlessly, and she soon realized that if she stayed any longer, she might freeze to death. Her original plan to endure in the pit for three days no longer seemed viable. What was the point of perseverance if it led only to death?

‘I have to get out. I’ll find another place to hide. If I stay here, I’ll die.’

Determined, Yul-hye gathered what strength she had left and pressed against the planks above her.

Thud, thud.

Creak.

With a creaking, groaning sound, the planks shifted, and Yul-hye pushed her way out from beneath them.

All around her, the world was blanketed in snow, the landscape transformed into a stark, white expanse.

‘It’s really coming down hard.’

The snow had already piled up to her knees, and with each step, her feet sank deeply into the icy drifts. Though she hadn’t walked far, her head and shoulders were soon covered in a fresh layer of snow.

‘The city gates must be closed by now.’

If the gates were sealed, her only option was to head for the mountains.

This small mountain was the only one within the city walls. Fortunately, Yul-hye was intimately familiar with the terrain.

If she climbed a little higher, she recalled, there was an old hut once used by herbalists. The last herbalist who had lived there had passed away last year from old age, leaving the hut unoccupied ever since.