That night, Hwirim ran away from Jaseonwon.

The sudden changes brought on by her first monthly bleeding had thrown her into confusion, and in a fit of anger, she packed her belongings and left the charity house on her own.

When Myojeong heard the devastating news the next day, it felt as though the sky had collapsed over his head.

It seemed Hwirim had been unable to endure the sudden restrictions and taboos imposed on her. Suhyang said that, for someone as free-spirited as Hwirim, such superstitious rules must have felt like shackles.

“Should we go bring her back?”

“Leave her alone. Whether she returns or leaves for good is her decision.”

As rumors of Hwirim’s departure spread, a quiet commotion swept through Jaseonwon.

Opinions were divided regarding the fact that she had run away on her own, but most people reacted with pity mixed with criticism, as though she were simply being foolish.

“Doesn’t everyone live according to the fate they’re born with?”

Some said she would come crawling back within a day or two, while others claimed that, judging by her stubborn personality, they would never see her again.

“Well, if a monk dislikes the temple, then the monk leaves.”

“What can anyone do? That’s just how the world works.”

“I don’t understand why she’s the only one who refuses to accept it.”

“She’s always been strange.”

Myojeong could hardly believe any of it.

All day long, a heavy gloom clung to him, and a lonely sadness washed over him as though he had been left behind alone in the entire world.

If he could have done as he pleased, he would have immediately left to search for Hwirim himself, but his life remained bound to this place.

One day passed, then another.

After several days, people gradually began saying that Hwirim was never coming back.

Even Suhyang, who had initially said they should wait, grew visibly subdued.

But Myojeong desperately wanted to deny those words.

He wanted to believe Hwirim would shake everything off and return exactly as she always had.

Every day, Myojeong lingered near the main gate, waiting for her.

Only after Hwirim disappeared did he finally learn how painfully unbearable it was to wait for someone.

Even without Hwirim, he was not truly alone. Suhyang still remained by his side.

And yet, as the days passed, Myojeong increasingly felt the empty space Hwirim had left behind, like a gaping hole carved into one corner of his heart.

Suhyang, too, seemed deeply dispirited and had become far quieter after Hwirim left.

On the third day after Hwirim’s disappearance, Suhyang quietly spoke.

“Hwirim may not come back.”

Myojeong, crouching near the outer gate, slowly lifted his head.

—Why do you think that?

“Because she hates losing more than anyone.”

Suhyang smiled faintly as she looked off into the distance.

“Hwirim can’t endure hearing that the world is ‘just the way it is.’”

Before coming here, Suhyang had lived like a doll.

She always had to obey, listen carefully to the teachings of her elders, and walk the path that had already been laid out for her. She learned etiquette, folded her hands neatly, and bowed her head.

How she walked. How she spoke. How she carried herself.

Everything had already been decided for her.

“But sometimes, I think there’s value in being grateful for what you’ve been given.”

Truthfully, Suhyang was rather satisfied with her current life.

“There are certainly things that are lacking, but compared to the life I used to live, this is more freedom than I ever imagined possible.”

Here, she could draw talismans whenever she wished. If she wanted to, she could even wield a sword and accomplish things through her own strength despite being a woman.

Of course, people still looked down on such work as vulgar and lowly. She could never openly reveal herself to the world.

But compared to the life she once lived as a doll, she was undeniably freer now.

“For people like us, what we can and cannot do is decided from the moment we’re born. If you can’t accept that, then all you’ll do is suffer. That’s why I think this life is the best I can hope for.”

Suhyang continued speaking with her eyes fixed somewhere far away.

“As long as we’re born human, no matter how hard we try to escape this land, we can never truly leave it behind. There is a sky above our heads and earth beneath our feet. That will never change. Even if you run and leap to escape the ground, in the end you still have no choice but to live with your feet planted on this earth.”

Suhyang closed her eyes with a faint, wistful smile.

“I believe everything in this world is predetermined.”

Ideals and reality were different things.

The more a person chased impossible ideals and looked toward unreachable heights, the more they suffered.

That was why one had to acknowledge their limits, compromise, and accept reality.

“When I think that way, I feel a little more at peace.”

Myojeong blinked silently.

He could not say that either of them was wrong.

Perhaps it truly was that way.

Perhaps there really were things decided from birth.

And even Myojeong himself existed within that same cycle.

After returning to Jaseonwon, Myojeong closed his eyes and attempted to divine the future.

[Will Hwirim come back?]

It was a desperate question.

Lacking confidence, Myojeong kept his eyes closed for a long time before finally inhaling deeply and raising his head.

He stared at the bamboo tube filled with wooden divination sticks before drawing one out.

—It is not so.

The moment he read the result, a tear rolled down his cheek.

So this is what sadness feels like.

Only then did Myojeong fully understand.

Suhyang had been right.

Hwirim was not coming back.

He would never see her again.

From that day onward, Myojeong could neither eat nor sleep properly and eventually fell ill from grief.

The thought that he might never see Hwirim again hurt unbearably.

Several days passed after the divination foretold that Hwirim would not return.

One morning, while mourning as he always did, Myojeong awoke to the sound of murmuring voices outside.

The instant he heard the unusual commotion, he felt it instinctively.

Hwirim had returned.

Even while telling himself it could not be true, a tiny spark of hope surged uncontrollably from deep inside his heart.

Myojeong flung the door open and ran out into the wide courtyard of Jaseonwon.

In one corner of the yard, people stood crowded together in a tight circle around someone.

Hwirim must be there.

Myojeong pushed his way through the crowd surrounding her and stepped inside.

And there she was.

The moment he saw her, he froze.

Hwirim, who had returned after only a few days away, had cut off all her long hair, leaving it cropped short.

Myojeong stared blankly at her, unable to react.

Hwirim, standing at the center of everyone’s attention, was soon summoned inside by an adult.

After finishing the conversation and coming back out, she walked forward as though nothing had happened.

The children lingering nearby stared at her as though she were some strange animal on display.

Then, as Hwirim strode past without caring about their gazes, someone spoke loudly enough for her to hear.

“You stormed out acting so proud, so what gives you the nerve to come back?”

“She really thinks she’s something special to the very end.”

At the voices mocking her from behind, Hwirim stopped walking.

“She’s insane for cutting her hair.”

“That’s the kind of thing only crude lowborn people do.”

Hwirim slowly turned and glared at the children.

“If you’ve got something to say, then stop whispering like rats and say it to my face.”

The murderous look in her eyes instantly silenced everyone.

“......”

“......”

The area fell completely quiet, as though nothing had happened.

“You think you’re the best right now, don’t you?”

One of the boys, as always, was the first to lash out.

“How exactly do you plan on surpassing grown men?”

Hwirim tilted her head with a defiant look.

“We’ll see when the time comes.”

Something about her felt different as she spoke.

Her face looked slightly gaunt, though no one knew where she had gone or what she had done while away, and her eyes seemed sharper than before.

Then—

Hwirim spotted Myojeong standing among the crowd.

“Well, if it isn’t the beloved dog.”

A soft smile spread across her lips.

The moment his eyes met hers, Myojeong’s lips trembled.

He still could not believe what he was seeing.

The Hwirim he thought he had lost forever was standing right in front of him.

Myojeong staggered toward her.

The two stood silently facing each other for a moment before Hwirim grinned.

“You’ve been well?”

Myojeong’s lips moved soundlessly.

I thought you would never come back...

Slowly, he lowered his forehead onto Hwirim’s shoulder.

Perhaps thinking he looked childish, Hwirim grinned and gently patted his back.

Myojeong took her hand and wrote onto her palm.

[Why did you cut your hair?]

Hwirim laughed as though the letters tickled her skin.

“My hair kept getting in the way when I used a sword.”

At those words, Myojeong lifted his head and stared fixedly at her.

“......”

“......”

Hwirim looked back into his eyes before eventually lowering her gaze.

They had only been apart for a few days, yet somehow he seemed taller already.

Maybe because of her short hair, she felt strangely awkward today.

Then Myojeong suddenly took hold of her hand.

[If you ever become weak someday far in the future, then I’ll protect you.]

Hwirim flinched and looked up sharply.

“......”

As though trying to understand his true intentions, she narrowed her eyes slightly.

“...Why? Because I’m a woman?”

Her sharp tone chilled the air between them.

“Are you saying you’re a man now? Is that it?”

That wasn’t it.

Myojeong’s lips trembled.

But no words could come out.

He did not know how to explain this feeling.

When he had watched her being struck with the switch, he had wished he could take the punishment in her place.

When he thought she would never return, he had fallen sick with fever from grief.

Unable to express any of it, Myojeong hurriedly clasped Hwirim’s hand tighter.

[Because I’m your dog.]

With fingers that were gradually becoming more slender and bony, he carefully wrote the words into her palm.

[It’s natural for a dog to protect its master.]

Hwirim stared at the writing, eyes widening slightly.

“......”

A moment later, she broke into a grin.

A dimple formed on one cheek.

Standing beneath the sunlight with her short hair and bright smile, Hwirim looked unbelievably radiant.

“Alright.”

She rubbed the back of her neck.

The breeze brushed lightly against her exposed nape.

“Ah, this feels so much cooler with my hair cut short.”

Hwirim took a few steps backward, spun around once, and clasped her hands behind her back.

“It was just pointlessly heavy before. This feels so light. So freeing...”

And like a loyal dog following after its master, Myojeong trailed after Hwirim as she walked away with her hands clasped behind her back.