Elder Hwayeon stared at Jiho for a long moment before finally saying, "Take me to the girl."
They moved quickly through the mist-draped village, the early morning fog still clinging to the air like ghostly silk. Damp wood creaked beneath their hurried footsteps, and distant roosters crowed, indifferent to the quiet desperation of two souls.
When they reached Granny Meng's house, Jiho pushed open the door with a quiet urgency. The small upstairs room was dim, lit only by faint slivers of light piercing through the old wooden shutters. The smell of herbs and old wood lingered faintly, but underneath it was something more acrid—something metallic and wrong.
On the bamboo bed, Sohee lay curled up under thick layers of cloth. Her breathing was shallow, barely audible. Sweat soaked her brow, and her pale lips moved faintly.
"Jiho…?" she murmured weakly, her voice thin and feverish, barely above a whisper. Her glazed eyes opened halfway, staring at nothing. "Where… are you?"
"I'm right here," Jiho whispered, falling to his knees beside the bed and gently taking her icy hand into his own. "I'm here, Sohee. You're safe."
Elder Hwayeon stepped forward silently, her expression unreadable. She sat beside the bed, not hesitating even as her sleeve brushed against the damp bedding. With calm precision, she placed two fingers on Sohee's wrist.
Her eyes closed.
A long, tense silence followed.
She moved her fingers slightly—along the wrist, then to the crook of the elbow, up the shoulder, and finally resting near the girl's collarbone. All the while, a faint ripple of qi shimmered around her fingertips, invisible to the untrained eye but deep as a current to those who could sense it.
Her brows furrowed.
"...Poison," she finally said. "Layered, complex, and old. This wasn't a one-time exposure. Dozens of toxins have accumulated in her meridians… introduced slowly, carefully. Like someone was testing her limits."
Her eyes flicked briefly toward Jiho—sharp and cold like a drawn blade—but said nothing aloud.
The Tang Sect isn't far from here, she thought. And this boy shows up with a girl riddled with their poisons? Hmph. Coincidence? Unlikely.
But she buried the suspicion beneath her usual calm. The world of the jianghu was a web of secrets, grudges, and unspoken debts. Whatever these two had endured, they were not ordinary.
Then she felt something else.
As she extended a fine thread of her inner qi into Sohee's dantian to assess the damage, her expression changed.
Her qi brushed against something… serene. Cold, but not lifeless. It was like touching snow that refused to melt—still, tranquil, but powerful in its own way. It was not the chill of poison. It was innate.
Elder Hwayeon slowly pulled her hand away, eyes narrowing in a rare flicker of surprise.
"…This girl has a Yin Body."
Jiho looked up, confused. "What does that mean?"
"A natural Yin Constitution," she explained, standing. "It's an extremely rare trait. Her body is naturally attuned to cold, receptive to the qi of the moon, frost, and winter. In the Ice Blossom Sect, perhaps one in a thousand disciples is born with such a gift."
She glanced down at Sohee again, her voice low.
"If she survives… if we can cleanse the toxins… she could become a formidable warrior. Perhaps even surpass anyone we've trained."
Jiho's eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. His gaze lingered on Sohee's face.
Elder Hwayeon's attention turned to him once more. Her voice, though calm, carried weight.
"You want to save her?"
Jiho nodded without hesitation.
"Then listen closely. No ordinary medicine, no village healer or traveling physician, can undo what's been done to her. The poisons have rooted too deep. But—there is a way. A method passed down in our sect."
She paused.
"It's dangerous. It will hurt her. There is no guarantee she'll survive. But it's the only path I know."
Jiho looked her straight in the eye. "Whatever it takes. I'll do it."
Elder Hwayeon's lips curved into a faint smile, but not one of encouragement.
"Not you," she said softly. "Her."
Jiho blinked. "What?"
"I will help her," Hwayeon said. "I will begin the process to purge the poison. But I'll do it at our sect, not here. She must come with me to the Ice Blossom Sect, and she must stay as one of our disciples. That is the price."
Her voice dropped, solemn.
"She will no longer be just Sohee. When the process is complete, she will walk a different path. One bound to the world of martial cultivation."
Jiho's breath caught.
He clenched his fists. "How can I trust you?! She can't leave my side—she's all I have!"
"Don't be selfish," Hwayeon replied, her voice hardening. "You think this is easy for anyone? But if you truly care about her… you must let her go. Do you know how many have died from this kind of poisoning? Who will save her—you?"
The silence that followed was a storm held just beneath the surface.
Then, through clenched teeth, Jiho spoke again. "Then I'll go with her. I'll join your sect too. If that's what it takes to stay beside her—then I'll do it."
Elder Hwayeon exhaled slowly and shook her head.
"No."
Jiho stepped forward. "Why not?!"
She met his eyes, and for the first time, there was a shadow of regret in her voice.
"Our sect accepts only women. It has always been that way. Every disciple, every attendant, every elder—no exceptions. We cultivate techniques that are inseparable from Yin energy. Men cannot follow our path."
Jiho's shoulders slumped. The strength drained from him like breath from a wound. He looked down, his voice hollow.
"So… I'm just supposed to let her go?"
"If you love her," Hwayeon said quietly, "then be strong enough to let her live."
The silence in the room was thick. Sohee stirred slightly, her brow furrowed. A low, painful noise escaped her lips.
Jiho knelt beside her again, gently brushing damp strands of hair from her fevered face. His heart felt like it was tearing in half.
"…Will you really save her?"
Elder Hwayeon nodded once.
"I swear it on the name of the Ice Blossom Sect."
Jiho closed his eyes.
And in a voice no louder than a breath—
"Then take her."