TBML 3

His nerves were drawn tight, like a taut thread of cotton, and the tension parched his lips. Just as Lee Yeonwet his dry lips with the tip of his tongue, the predator that had been threatening him fully revealed itself.

Crawling out from beneath the shrubs was a wretched-looking black tiger cub. He had seen it only once before, but its markings were so distinct that Yeon-ah recognized it immediately.

It was the same black cub he had left behind in the mountains yesterday, the one with unusually broad black stripes. As if imitating the way a great mountain lord hunted, the small creature stiffened its hind legs, striking a stance as though it was ready to pounce at any moment.

The cub wrinkled its snout upon meeting Yeon’s gaze and let out a low growl that rumbled like an echo in a cave. It was still young, yet it carried the presence of a mountain’s lord, making his legs momentarily tense.

But the tension did not last long. The young cub, having been discovered before it could strike, seemed flustered. Instead of attacking, it spun in circles, unsure of what to do. Whether it was out of instinct or an attempt to survive, it continuously licked at the blood-soaked fur on its body, matting its once-elegant stripes into a scruffy mess.

Watching the cub’s unrefined movements, Yeon felt his own tension dissipate, and he sank onto the snowy ground. The cold seeped into him, but he paid it no mind.

He sat there for a long moment, silently watching the cub, his shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath. His pulse refused to settle.

The young black tiger did nothing but glare at him with fierce eyes. Perhaps it understood that, in its current state, it could not hope to defeat the one who had slain its mother. Like a filthy stray cat fallen into a slop bucket, it hissed at him incessantly.

Seeing it struggle for survival reminded Yeon-ah of himself just moments ago, desperately fighting to cling to life. The same turmoil and guilt from yesterday welled up within him again, and he averted his gaze. He had no time to waste on needless emotions.

With firm resolve, he took his dagger and slit the boar’s belly open. Warm innards spilled onto the snow. The boar was still young and not particularly large, but he had a heavy enough load to carry today. It seemed fitting to leave this much for the future lord of the mountain—and it eased his conscience, if only a little.

Realizing that the cub was doing nothing more than hissing and had no intention of attacking, Yeon swiftly packed up his things. He slung the boar’s carcass onto his back frame and used a branch to push the entrails toward the cub, which continued to glare at him.

The young black tiger, which had been watching his actions with gleaming eyes, quickly snatched up the steaming entrails in its mouth and disappeared into the thicket.

Once it had retreated far enough to be beyond even his keen vision, Yeon finally let out a deep sigh of relief and removed the cloth from his face. Even as a cub, a tiger was still a tiger—it had approached him without a sound.

Had it been seeking revenge for its mother? As he replayed the encounter in his mind, a shudder ran down his spine. If the black tiger cub had been even slightly larger, he would have undoubtedly ended up a vengeful spirit.

Adjusting the weight of the boar on his back, Yeon hurried away as if fleeing. The scent of blood might attract other predators.

…

The hunt had been disappointing.

After hastily moving on to check the nets he had set up earlier, Yeon was left disheartened. Not a single pheasant—only one rabbit.

What good were skillful marksmanship and a keen eye if luck was not on his side? Some days, he would not even see a single creature worth hunting.

Suppressing his frustration, he tied the rabbit to his back frame. Its soft gray fur swayed with each step.

Though the boar was small and he had discarded its entrails, it was still a burdensome load. His shoulders ached under the weight, but it was manageable. Even so, his once-light steps grew sluggish, and despite the snowshoes, his feet sank deeper with every stride.

On his way down the mountain, he encountered a familiar hunter—an older man he had worked with several times in the past, back when he had trailed merchants as a hired hand.

“Are you out of your mind, trying to become a vengeful spirit? What is it this time?”

“A boar,” Yeon answered.

“I heard you traded a tiger for another yesterday. You’re still just a whelp, yet you keep this up, and you’ll truly end up a ghost.”

The man clicked his tongue, his wiry white beard curling with the movement. Yeon resented being treated like a child just because he had yet to tie up his hair in a topknot. The men of the village often called him a “boy,” and each time, it made him feel like a useless fool who could not even carry his own weight.

Look at him now—fully grown and capable, yet because he had not tied his hair, he was still considered “not yet mature.” Though the words were spoken with concern, they were hardly kind.

“I know what I’m doing,” Yeon replied curtly.

“Do you, now? Bah. There are tigers you can kill, and tigers you cannot.”

The very first hunter who had taken Yeon into the mountains had always said the same thing.

“The mountain lord who must not be slain.”

That man, his mentor in all but name, had eventually been killed by a tiger.

Unbidden, the image of the black tiger cub resurfaced in his mind. Its paws were thick for its small frame, and its eyes burned with fierce intensity. Even its pitch-black stripes were unusual. If a creature like that grew to its full strength, would it become the true lord of this mountain?

“The next village over is gathering hunters. Are you coming?” the old hunter asked.

“Didn’t you come back empty-handed last time?”

“The beast in that forest is no ordinary tiger. But it’s still better than chasing after rabbits and boars.”

Yeon knew exactly which village the man was talking about. The place had suffered repeated tiger attacks this year, to the point that Chakho soldiers had been dispatched. Despite gathering dozens of experienced hunters multiple times, they had failed to take down the beast.

The offer was tempting, but Yeon could not leave his ailing mother behind for such a long journey. Besides, this particular tiger had evaded capture time and time again. If he made the long trip only to spend days wandering the mountain with nothing to show for it, the loss would be too great.

Even if they managed to catch it, the prey would be divided among dozens, making it hardly worth the price of medicinal ingredients. The offer was appreciated, but Yeon quietly shook his head at the man.

After listening to a few more words of caution from him, Yeon parted ways and stepped onto the village road.

He handed over the wild boar to the tradesman, who greeted him warmly, then stopped by the fabric shop to purchase a thickly padded winter jeogori and baji^[1]. In times like these, when every coin had to be stretched, he should have sewn his own clothes, but he had neither the skill nor the time to sit on the floor stitching fabric.

As he planned to prepare minced rabbit meat for dinner, he turned his steps toward home.

…

By the time he arrived, just before sunset, his home was in complete disarray.

In the yard, Du-soe, his neighbor, was gathering the scattered household items. As Yeon stood in front of the broken wicker gate, Du-soe, who had been picking up a basket, noticed him.

“You’re back, Yeon-ah,”

“…….”

Yeon ignored Du-soe’s bright greeting and strode past him, heading straight inside to check the room.

Fortunately, the thugs had not harmed the patient. The room, at least, remained relatively untouched.

“Who was it?”

“Who else? The second son of the magistrate’s house.”

A face appeared in his mind—one with narrow, snake-like eyes that made his skin crawl. Of course. That worthless wastrel, always mingling with the moneylenders.

For the past two years, he had persistently pursued Yeon, demanding that he become his concubine, never once knowing when to give up.

Yeon could see right through him. Concubine? What a joke. The moment he gave in, that bastard would strip him of everything and discard him without a second thought. He wasn’t even fit to be a kept man in a gisaeng house.

Most of the men who lusted after Yeon, charmed by his delicate features, were empty husks.

The usurious loan his father had taken was a nightmare. The principal alone had been high, and the interest doubled each month. If he failed to pay, the next month it would double, growing into an insurmountable mountain.

If not for his hunting skill, he would have already been sold into slavery—or worse, become some nobleman’s plaything. Though, he even doubted whether he was worth that much.

There had been a time when he had considered it. When his poverty had been so unbearable that such offers had almost seemed tempting.

A butcher or a courtesan—both were lowborn in the end.

But status wasn’t even the problem. The real issue was that his debt was too massive. No man in this tiny village could afford to pay it off and take him in.

Perhaps in Hanyang, such a nobleman might exist. But here? Impossible.

The magistrate’s eldest son had passed the civil service exam, so things had been quiet for a few days. But now, it seemed, everything was starting again.

That petty, depraved man always lashed out whenever Yeon refused to yield to him. He would rile up the moneylenders who had given loans to Yeon’s father, hoping that the pressure would force him into his arms.

Yeon looked at the wreckage inside his home, then let out a sigh and lowered his pack to the ground. Instead of the wooden floor of the main hall, he simply sank onto the dirt floor, utterly drained.

It wasn’t that he was particularly frustrated or furious.

Today had simply been exhausting.

As he sat there, motionless like a stone statue, Du-soe, who had been haphazardly tidying up the scattered belongings, crouched down beside him.

Unlike Yeon, who was small and slender, Du-soe had thick, sturdy hands and a solid, dependable frame.

Now, crouched beside the wiry and slight Yeon, the contrast in their builds made Yeon seem even more fragile.

“Yeon-ah, just run away.”