Chapter 6
* * *
Everything was hazy.
Soha’s vision blurred in and out. Through half-opened eyes she saw unfamiliar faces—men, women, elders, children.
So many different people. She wondered if this was heaven.
Strangely, everyone looked big.
They were busy, moving around. Sometimes a warm voice brushed her ear.
She was cold. She didn’t want to sleep, but her mind kept going dark.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw a little white puff—like a small animal’s paw.
It looked like the paw of a cat or dog she’d seen long ago in Fox Valley.
Maybe this really was heaven.
A soft, fluffy blanket wrapped her body.
So warm… I like this.
Falling asleep no longer felt scary.
Annex Unjoru of Hwachon Palace, the Phoenix Clan estate.
Geum Ihwan sat by the sunniest window, wrapped head to toe in silk quilts, watching the doctor examine a small white fox on the bed.
“Her heartbeat is still unstable,” the Phoenix Clan’s physician said, taking the fox’s pulse in several places.
Beside him, Ihwan’s mother Cheon Unseon dipped a towel in warm water and gently wiped the fox’s fur.
“She’ll need medicine to raise her body heat regularly,” the doctor said.
“Can’t we try something else?” Unseon asked, worried.
“She’s very young. I can’t give strong drugs. Normally, transformation (switching between beast and human form) is possible only for adults.”
“How did this fox child transform at all?” Unseon asked.
“Most likely because the power of a divine relic interfered. I think the relic’s power stepped in to stop her death by forcing a transformation.”
“That’s dangerous too, isn’t it?”
“To be honest, this child is almost dead. Her body is filled with yin energy. I’ve never seen anything this strong. Even if fate is kind and she wakes, she won’t live long.”
Unseon’s hands slowed and stopped.
The fox was no bigger than half her forearm. The thought that such a little one was doomed left her speechless. She loved animals and children; it hurt twice as much.
“I don’t know what we can possibly do,” she murmured, putting the towel back in the basin and lowering her rolled sleeves.
Just then the door opened.
A man in a gold robe embroidered with red patterns entered.
“Clan Lord.”
“You’re here, my lord,” they greeted.
With neat golden hair tied back, he was Geum Heemun, head of the Phoenix Clan. He had rushed back from the Polar Night after a disaster caused by his reckless son.
The boy had nearly died—and brought back a dying fox. Nothing had shaken the clan like this in years.
His aide Myeongheun followed him in.
“How is she?” Heemun asked.
“As I told Lady Cheon, not well,” the doctor answered.
“Will she die?”
The doctor nodded.
“That would be a problem. For some reason, the child is linked to Ihwan.”
“Linked?” Unseon asked.
“When she weakens, Ihwan shivers with cold,” Heemun said.
Everyone looked at Ihwan. His lips were blue. In the Phoenix lands—warm all year—that was unheard of.
“It seems he fell under a curse when he used the Hyupundo,” Myeongheun explained.
“A curse?” Unseon swayed. The clan lord steadied her.
“Two hundred years ago, the sacred sword Hyupundo joined two powers as one to defeat enemies,” Myeongheun continued. “But there’s a price: the user shares senses and life with the one connected.”
“Th-then…,” Unseon whispered.
“Yes. If this child dies, Young Master Ihwan dies as well.”
Unseon’s strength left her. Heemun helped her sit by the small fox.
“Then we must keep the fox alive,” he said.
“But at this rate…,” the doctor began.
“Keep feeding her Phoenix energy to warm her body. And give her the clan heirloom medicine, Jeok-yeong Pill,” Heemun ordered.
“For this child?” the doctor asked, shocked.
“You heard me. If she dies, Ihwan dies.”
His tone left no doubt.
“Son…” Unseon looked at Ihwan trembling under the sunlight. Tears gathered in her eyes.
“Don’t worry, Mother,” Ihwan said weakly. “I won’t die that easily.”
“But—”
“And even if I did, it wouldn’t be her fault. This is all because of me. She was dragged into my mess.”
Unseon stroked the fox’s back. Guilt pricked her—just as Ihwan said, a fox child had been pulled into disaster.
“…I should go pray,” she murmured.
Silence settled.
“This must never leave this room,” Heemun said.
“Yes,” they replied.
After that, the clan lord and doctor spoke at length about Soha’s condition.
Meanwhile, Ihwan stared at the softly breathing fox.
He had been shocked for days. How could cold like this exist?
Born to the Phoenix Clan, he had handled fire since birth. Cold had always been like a light breeze to him.
Cold.
This ache to the bone was new—like death waiting nearby.
Even then, he worried most about the little fox.
If he suffered this much with fire in his blood, how was a powerless fox enduring it?
Sometimes he put his hand on her. Her body was ice. Feeling pity, he’d push Phoenix warmth into her until she thawed a little.
I can’t even move a finger now, he thought.
He knew if he gave more, he might die. Luckily, his father had taken over.
His strength kept dropping; his eyes blurred. He wanted to sleep on a warm floor, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the fox’s room.
Until the curse is lifted, our lives are tied, he realized.
The future felt heavy. His eyelids sank; he dozed against a pillar.
A scene flashed up: Soha, covered in frost.
Whenever he remembered that moment, a sadness he’d never felt in his ten years surged up.
A sorrow made entirely of cold.
Soha’s foggy mind cleared—and the first thing she felt was cold.
It’s cold…
Struggling in a dream, she wished for warmth.
Maybe that wish worked a miracle. Suddenly, heat filled her body—as if someone held her close.
She opened her eyes.
“Are you all right?”
A woman’s face came into view first—like a fairy: white jacket and skirt embroidered with flowers and birds, a light pink shawl over her shoulders.
“Who…?” Soha looked around.
Gold wallpaper. Shining wooden furniture. A phoenix scroll on the wall. Porcelain vases and jade ornaments on the shelves. Above, a canopy embroidered with dragons and clouds.
Was this what it felt like to lie in a treasure room? Everything was beautiful.
“You’ve been unconscious for a full week,” the woman said. “Can you see clearly? Any headache?”
A stranger was worrying over her. Soha felt uneasy at the attention.
“Oh—my manners. This is the Geum family estate—the home of the boy you saved, Ihwan. I’m his mother, Cheon Unseon.”
“I see…”
“Here, drink some warm water first.”
The cup she offered was painted with lotus and a silk carp. Soha stared at the pretty cup, feeling everything was strange.
She had gone back to age nine, been chased by a merchant, met an evil spirit… then, because of a boy she got tangled with, ended up here.
She’d thought she would surely die. Being alive filled her with mixed feelings. Was this good or bad? She couldn’t tell.
But one thing was certain.
“Is… is this place always this warm?” she asked.
Unseon blinked, unsure how to answer. It was an odd question from a child who’d nearly died.
“I’ll make it as warm as you want,” Unseon said, placing her hand over Soha’s.
Soha looked at that hand. It was gentle and warm.
The future had changed.
It all began with one step she chose to take on her own.
