Episode 1
“Miss, wait! Are you really going?”
“Miss! Miss!”
On a spring morning overflowing with warmth and vitality, two frantic voices shattered the calm of Yeongak-ri. Lady Sohwa, striding ahead without hesitation, stopped and frowned as she turned back toward the two servants trailing behind her.
“Then what is it—are you actually coming, or just pretending?” she snapped. “I’ll be generous and overlook the fact that you’re from a scholarly household, but dignity is non-negotiable. Do you think I’d allow some ugly brat to loosen his hair in front of me? Absolutely not!”
With a sulky expression, she resumed walking.
At her neck swung a fire starter, bobbing with every step. It was a precious gift from her father, given just yesterday on her eighteenth birthday—her coming-of-age day. She had always envied the fire starters worn by her two older brothers, and until receiving this one, her life had been nothing but bliss.
Until the second gift.
“Now, there is one more thing I must give you,” her father had said. “The fortune reading of Jin Ju-an, the youngest son of Lord Jin Pyeonggi, the great scholar of Muyeon.”
“A four-pillars reading…? Then that means…?”
“Yes. A marriage proposal. The Jin family has deep ties to ours and is of royal lineage. They are a perfect match for you.”
Marriage? A husband?
Objectively speaking, it wasn’t shocking. Among the nobility, love marriages were exceedingly rare. Girls were typically engaged around eighteen and married by twenty. Sohwa knew this well.
The problem was simple.
She had no intention of marrying a man she had never met.
At eighteen, wasn’t it natural to be curious about the opposite sex? She stayed up all night devouring popular romance novels and blushed whenever she glimpsed a handsome young man her age in the streets. A fated love was her most cherished dream.
And now—an engagement to a complete stranger?
If she obediently followed her parents’ wishes and married him, what if he turned out ugly? What if he had a terrible personality? What if everything about him was wrong?
She couldn’t very well cry out after the wedding, This is unacceptable! I refuse this marriage! If she was going to ruin it, she had to do it now.
That was why, the moment dawn broke, she slipped out of the house—to see her future husband’s face for herself.
The maid, Kkotbun, looked utterly distressed.
“Oh heavens… what if you don’t like how he looks?”
“Then I’ll run away. Or spread rumors that I’ve caught some horrible disease—say my face is covered in pockmarks and I’ve turned deathly pale. They’ll be the first to cancel the engagement. There are still two years before the wedding. Plenty of time.”
Since he was from a scholarly family, he was probably dull, buried in books all day. And being her age, he was likely still round-cheeked and boyish. If nothing else, shouldn’t he at least be pleasant to look at?
An average-looking man was unacceptable.
“You’re saying things that would make both the General and the Madam faint!” Kkotbun exclaimed. “How can you be so shameless? One should judge a person by their heart, not their appearance!”
“You worry about inner beauty. I’m concerned with outer beauty,” Sohwa replied coolly. “With looks like mine, wouldn’t marrying an ugly man be a loss? Do you think I worked this hard just to look like this? And you two—Kkotbun, Pandong—you fell in love and got married, didn’t you?”
“Well… our situation is different from that of nobles—”
“Enough! I’ll choose my own husband!”
With her resolve so firm, there was nothing more they could say. Knowing her stubbornness was immovable, the two servants could only trail behind her with heavy sighs.
“…Then what’s your ideal type?” Pandong asked.
“Yes,” Kkotbun echoed. “If you’re judging by looks, there must be a certain type you prefer.”
At the question, a shy smile crept onto Sohwa’s face.
“Yes. Yoo Kang.”
“Huh? Yoo… Yoo Kang?”
Kkotbun froze. There’s already someone she likes? Panic flickered across her face—until realization struck.
“No way… that Yoo Kang? The male lead from Snow Wedding Song?”
“Yes.” Sohwa’s eyes sparkled. “Flowing jet-black hair. Eyes sharp as a tiger’s. Thick lashes that cast shadows. A high nose. A strong, square jaw. His face is colder than the harshest winter—but before the woman he loves, he melts into spring.”
Her voice brimmed with excitement. No matter how many novels she read, the man in Sohwa’s heart remained Yoo Kang of Snow Wedding Song.
Pandong snorted.
“Oh my. You really have terrible taste in men. Didn’t you tell me he was the worst scoundrel alive? Always making women cry.”
“And yet, didn’t he make me laugh harder than anyone else in the end?” Sohwa shot back. “If someone makes you laugh for a lifetime, a few tears are forgivable.”
“A good man is one who never makes people cry,” Pandong said proudly. “Like me. Isn’t that right, Master?”
Kkotbun pinched his cheek. “You’re acting strange again.” But the smile tugging at her lips suggested she didn’t entirely disagree.
“Oh! Miss, look—there it is.”
Their steps slowed.
Ahead of them stood a magnificent tiled-roof house, surrounded by cherry blossoms in full bloom.
Could my fiancé really be Yoo Kang?
Yoo Kang of Snow Wedding Song—the man who gifted a thousand laughs for ten tears.
Her heart pounding with both anticipation and anxiety, Sohwa took another step forward.
“Ah—Miss! Watch out!”
A rushing sound filled the air.
Something slammed into her.
“Ah!”
Sohwa screamed as she fell hard to the ground.
“Ugh… what just happened…?”
She lay sprawled on the road, dazed, when Kkotbun and Pandong rushed over in panic.
“Miss! Are you hurt?”
“I… I’m fine…”
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing to my lady!”
Kkotbun’s furious shout rang out. In front of them stood five or six beggar-like men and women, frozen in place. A young girl clung to what appeared to be her mother’s knee, her wide eyes trembling.
“Aren’t you going to apologize right now?” Kkotbun yelled. “Shall I drag you before General Moon Ik-cheol and have every last one of you whipped?”
“L-let it go,” Pandong whispered nervously. “They look like… Saris.”
Only then did Kkotbun notice the black ring-shaped tattoos circling the beggars’ fingers.
Saris.
Lowly Taoists from Sari Village.
The Sari woman gently stroked the child’s head before fixing her gaze on Sohwa. Slowly, she spoke.
“My apologies, my lady. Children have fire in their feet—they run even when told not to. And you, too… are fire, so you understand, don’t you?”
She grinned, revealing yellowed teeth.
A chill ran down Sohwa’s spine.
Fire.
Her name, Sohwa (小花), meant Little Flower. A fortune-teller had once said her innate energy was too fierce for a woman, and that only a delicate name could suppress it and prevent future calamity.
But Sohwa had never liked that fragile meaning.
“I’m not a little flower,” she always insisted. “I’m little fire—Sohwa (小火). If I meet the wind, I can grow. I can burn endlessly.”
Had that rumor reached Sari Village?
How did this woman know?
“Once you’ve seen the young master of the Cherry House,” the Sari woman said, “come to Sari Village. The Fire Maiden will read your fate and compatibility.”
With a deep bow, she turned and left with her group.
Sohwa stared blankly after them.
Beside her, Kkotbun shuddered.
“Disgusting people. Bad luck, bad luck—ptui!”
“Isn’t it strange?” Sohwa murmured. “How did she know I was fire? And she knew I was here to see my fiancé’s face…”
“Miss!”
“Oh—right. Right. Let’s go.”
Brushing dirt from her skirt, Sohwa resumed walking toward the cherry-blossom-covered house.
After all, what mattered most right now—
was seeing her future husband’s face.
