Shin Jiho could only watch.
The elder placed two fingers gently on Sohee's pulse point, her expression calm but focused. A soft white glow—qi imbued with the essence of ice—flowed from Elder Hwayeon's hand into Sohee's body. Jiho held his breath.
Within moments, Sohee's strained breathing evened out. The deep furrow between her brows smoothed, and her fevered complexion turned visibly calmer. For the first time in days, she no longer winced in pain.
Jiho's lips parted in awe. "She's... not hurting anymore."
Elder Hwayeon slowly withdrew her hand. "No," she said, her voice cool and steady, "but it's only temporary. The poisons are complex, and her body too frail to resist them on its own. What I gave her just now is merely a thread of relief."
Her gaze met Jiho's.
"And that is why I'm taking her."
Jiho clenched his fists. He wanted to argue, to plead, to say something—but the calm authority in Hwayeon's voice left no room for protest.
"I empathize with you," she continued, softer this time, "for not being able to say goodbye properly. But there's no other way. She wouldn't survive the journey awake."
With practiced ease, she bent down and lifted Sohee into her arms. Jiho was reminded—this woman was no ordinary physician. She was a Jianghu master. Small in stature, but formidable in skill.
Hwayeon turned to gather Sohee's few belongings from the inn, then waited for Jiho to approach.
He did.
Kneeling beside her, Jiho reached out with trembling fingers. He brushed a strand of hair from Sohee's face, his touch featherlight against her cheek. For a moment, it was as if time paused—his hand resting gently on her face as if trying to memorize every contour.
"Be strong," he whispered, though he wasn't sure if he was saying it to her or to himself.
Hwayeon said nothing. She watched with the quiet understanding of someone who had seen too many goodbyes in her life.
Then, without another word, she turned.
As Elder Hwayeon walked, her thoughts stirred behind her calm expression.
That poison… and the girl's condition—there's no doubt she's connected to the Tang Sect. Whether by blood, or by something darker.
Her steps were steady, but her mind weighed the implications. The Tang Sect was not known for mercy, nor for letting their "possessions" go easily. Taking the girl might stir ripples in still water… or awaken sleeping serpents.
Still, she thought, glancing down at the unconscious Sohee, a Yin Body this pure is a once-in-a-generation talent. I would be a fool to let her waste away, even if it means facing complications later.
She tightened her grip ever so slightly, as if affirming her resolve.
Even if war comes, I will protect her. For that is what our sect stands for.
Jiho didn't move. He stood rooted in place as the elder carried Sohee away—her small figure cradled against Hwayeon's chest like a sleeping child.
Snow fell lightly. Their silhouettes grew smaller with every step, until the swirling mist of the mountains swallowed them completely.
And Jiho, once again, was alone.
---
The snow had long settled when Jiho finally turned away from the path where Elder Hwayeon and Sohee had disappeared.
He stood there in silence, the cold biting at his skin, but his thoughts far more chilling.
He couldn't afford to stay here any longer.
He had focused everything on Sohee's recovery. Every breath, every moment, had been for her. But now, with her gone, carried away toward the Ice Blossom Sect, reality closed in fast—like frost creeping up the edges of a window.
The manual… the thief…
That night still burned fresh in his memory. The older man, slumped and bleeding in that forgotten chamber, dying from the Tang Sect's own venom trap. The sect had rigged the vault themselves, expecting only fools or traitors to try their luck.
And one did.
The man had managed to escape with the manual, barely. But death caught up with him anyway. And when it did, he handed Jiho a burden wrapped in blood and secrets: the Wusheng Sutra of the Venom Path.
A heretical scripture.
Forbidden.
Deadly.
And now, it was in Jiho's possession.
He had hidden it carefully. Carried it everywhere since their escape. Never letting it out of reach. But even so, he couldn't shake the dread growing inside him.
They'll know it's gone.
They'll track the thief's route.
They'll find the body. Find no manual.
And they'll ask: who was the last one near him? Who disappeared from the sect that same night?
He and Sohee had fled in silence, but the Tang Sect was not a place where people disappeared quietly. They would scour Liangshan, question every merchant, every stable boy, every passing traveler.
And when they realized where the trail led—
"They'll come for me," Jiho murmured, eyes narrowing.No… they'll come for both of us.
But Sohee… at least she had Elder Hwayeon now.
He turned toward the small shed of Granny Meng. The wind bit harder now, as if pushing him forward.
By nightfall, he was ready.
There wasn't much to pack—because they had come with nothing. No keepsakes. No supplies. No past.Still, Jiho moved with purpose. He gathered what little he could: dried herbs Granny Meng had generously shared, a spare robe, and the manual—still wrapped tightly in layers of cloth and oilskin. Each movement was deliberate, his hands steady even as his chest tightened.
Before stepping out, Jiho turned to the corner of the room where Granny Meng sat on a worn mat, sipping from her chipped cup.
"Granny Meng…" he bowed his head slightly. "Thank you. For everything. Even though we were strangers, you let us stay. And now… thanks to you, Sohee's with someone who might truly help her. Elder Hwayeon—she came here. If not for you, we would've never had that chance."
The old woman waved a hand dismissively, the lines around her eyes deepening with a faint smile.
"What I did wasn't much," she said. "At my age, helping young ones like you… perhaps it'll earn me some favor when I meet the gods."
Jiho's throat tightened.
He knelt and placed a small pouch in front of her. "This isn't much, but… please accept it. I took it from a man who had no more use for it."
Granny Meng looked at the pouch, then at him.
"Very well," she said softly. "I'll take it—if only so your heart can feel lighter."
She paused, studying his face one last time.
"Take care of yourself, child."
Jiho nodded, eyes lingering for a heartbeat longer.
Then, with a deep breath, he turned away and stepped out, leaving behind the last place they had known as shelter. The floor creaked faintly under his feet as the wind howled against the eaves.
He glanced once toward the north—the direction Elder Hwayeon had taken Sohee."Wait for me," he whispered.
And then he disappeared into the darkness.His path was uncertain.But his heart was resolved.