Chapter 1: Boy

As the evening wind blew, white ash rose into the twilight-stained air before sinking futilely and scattering in all directions.

His blurred vision gradually cleared.

He brushed down the long hair tickling his cheeks with his hand.

For some reason, the scene filling his eyes resembled a memory from the past that had been hunched over in his mind for a long time.

Soon, Ahnok thought:

‘So, this is what the afterlife looks like… The sky is stained with twilight, and the wind feels both warm and cold.’

Since his five senses, including sight and hearing, were vividly alive, it didn’t feel as if he were dead.

As if drawn by some kind of gravitational pull, Ahnok rose from the stump he had been leaning against and headed toward a spot where several people were surrounding something.

“…?”

Ahnok, who was about to ask what they were doing, froze instantly.

Everything entering his field of vision remained vividly etched in his memory.

The final day of the funeral; though modest in scale, several people had gathered to bid farewell to Chusan, an elder of the tribe.

As he approached hesitantly, the people turned to look at Ahnok at the sudden sense of a presence.

The hostility, rejection, and wariness readable in their eyes were also far from unfamiliar.

It triggered an instinctive dread branded into Ahnok’s mind—a primal fear known only to those whose very existence has been rejected.

Ahnok’s mind began to race.

There were only two possibilities.

First, even in death, he could not rest peacefully and had to suffer amidst the resentment of the tribespeople who had gone before him.

And second, perhaps he was not dead.

“Ahnok.”

It was a voice exceptionally cold toward him.

Since there were more than just one or two people who treated him with coldness, he was momentarily confused about who had called him.

Faced with the unbelievable events unfolding before him, Ahnok’s bewildered gaze, which had been wandering through the air, turned toward the woman who called his name.

Upon facing the woman who appeared to be in her early forties, memories of her surfaced.

Her name was Nanseok; she was the adopted daughter of Chusan—the deceased subject of the funeral—and a priestess of Baekya-bu, a tribe that had maintained its identity even after being absorbed into the Great Empire of Daejin. She was also a sworn sister to Ahnok’s biological mother.

Nanseok was particularly harsh toward Ahnok.

Unable to resent her adoptive mother, Chusan, who had chosen to be ostracized to protect Ahnok, or the sister who had risked her life, she poured all that rage onto the small child.

Suddenly, an old conversation flashed through Ahnok’s mind.

Seven years ago, on the day they held the funeral for Chusan—who was like a grandmother to him—and sent her body away through cremation.

Exhausted from weeping, he had been practically discarded on a large tree stump.

He had been leaning there, having fainted briefly from exhaustion, and when he opened his eyes, the cremation was nearly finished.

To Ahnok, who was dripping sorrowful tears in despair, Nanseok had spoken while standing before the remains of her teacher and adoptive mother, which were scattering like grayish ash.

– Choose. Either die and follow Lady Chusan, or disappear forever to a place where the tribespeople will never see you.

Thinking about it now, Nanseok must have known that Ahnok could do neither.

She had intentionally narrowed the options down to two that a boy who had just come of age might consider.

She had said those words knowing that when he was agonized by his lack of options, he would gratefully grasp the saving hand that was about to reach out.

Recalling this, Ahnok’s gaze sank coldly.

If this was not the afterlife, but rather a repetition of past time as punishment for trying to flee of his own accord, then what Nanseok was about to say was already determined.

Ahnok and Nanseok opened their mouths at the same time.

“Choose.”

“Choose.”

Nanseok’s eyes widened in surprise.

Ahnok, with a distorted face, also spoke the words Nanseok was supposed to say as if reciting them weakly.

“Either die and follow Lady Chusan… or disappear forever to a place where the tribespeople will never see you…”

Gazing at Nanseok, who was utterly shocked as if her inner thoughts had been completely seen through, Ahnok swallowed a hollow laugh.

The corners of his mouth twisted into a subtle sneer.

Just seeing Chusan’s funeral being held was enough to tell him exactly where and when this space-time was.

But he couldn’t believe it.

He had clearly died in front of the child’s memorial tablet after consuming a deadly poison and coughing up blood. How could he have returned to seven years ago?

Ahnok suddenly reached out and examined the back of his hand thoroughly.

On the back of his right hand, there should have been a hideously shriveled burn scar.

That scar had been formed while he was learning the tea ceremony after his marriage.

It was a burn scar sustained while practicing pouring boiling tea water over and over again because of Noble Consort Sa, who despised the lowly Consort of the Third Prince from Baekya-bu for not knowing proper etiquette.

But now, the back of Ahnok’s hand was flawless.

It was pale and bloodless, but there was no trace of a burn scar.

If this was not the afterlife, and if he had returned to the time when Chusan’s funeral was being held…

He had traveled back seven years in time. He couldn’t help but admit it.

At twenty-seven, Ahnok, who had chosen to die, did not die.

Instead, he had returned to a point seven years prior—a time when certain gears had already begun to lock together, yet room for change still remained.

In an instant, the strength left his legs.

No matter how harsh the world was to him, and even if it had never once favored him, it shouldn’t be like this.

In truth, Ahnok didn’t even have a desire left to change his life.

How futilely and miserably had the expectations and hopes he once held vanished?

He did not want to experience that pain again.

He didn’t want to hurt anymore. That was why he had chosen the way to flee forever, yet the world had returned him to seven years ago as if mocking him.

What is meant to happen will happen.

This land of Baekya-bu—incorporated into the Great Empire of Daejin as a small tribal nation but still maintaining its unique lineage—would also welcome a new, long winter stained with blood.

The Third Prince of Daejin would take advantage of that to seize the position of Crown Prince and eventually ascend the throne.

He could not stop any of it. Since what is meant to happen will happen.

If so, what should he do?

How could he run away? How could he escape?

“…Fine, either die and follow Lady Chusan or disappear forever to a place where people won’t see you.”

Nanseok’s face was as confused as Ahnok’s, but she soon composed her expression.

Ahnok, who had faltered momentarily at the frostily cold voice, steadied himself and stood straight.

‘A long winter will arrive in the land of Baekya-bu, and the Third Prince will become Emperor. But if I run away now, I might become irrelevant to all of it.’

Such a thought flashed through his mind.

In his previous life, Ahnok had to helplessly watch the land of Baekya-bu become stained with blood, and he ascended to the position of Empress—which he had never even dared to desire—simply because he was the primary consort of the Third Prince.

It was said that what is meant to happen will happen, but it didn’t necessarily mean he had to be near or at the center of those events.

‘Perhaps now is the chance. While I haven’t married the Third Prince yet, and the King of Baekya hasn’t sent Seol Ga Hyo to find me…’

Chusan’s gaunt body had long since turned completely to ash.

A dark blue curtain began to drape over the sky where dusk had settled.

Ahnok gazed at the people beginning to clear the traces of the cremation before turning his head toward Nanseok.

In his previous life, he had trembled in fear upon hearing Nanseok’s words.

That was because he was merely a boy who had just come of age.

It was impossible for a young thing who had lived only twenty years to easily harbor the thought of leaving his birthplace, no matter how much he was despised by the people.

Back then, he was also afraid of dying.

He didn’t have the courage to die following Chusan, and he didn’t have the confidence to go somewhere and live well on his own.

But now was different from then. Ahnok slowly approached Nanseok.

The Ahnok of that time had been so terrified that he regarded the news that his father was looking for him as salvation.

But the Ahnok of now trusted no one.

He only thought of escaping from the second life given to him.

Nanseok frowned her thin eyebrows upon seeing Ahnok standing before her.

As if to make it obvious that she detested even facing him.

Regardless, Ahnok spoke in a tone of calm resignation that was hard to believe came from a twenty-year-old.

“I will leave.”