Chapter 03
Heeyeon clutched the hem of her skirt, a sharp pain tightening around her heart as if someone were squeezing it with their bare hands.
If they hated her that much, couldn’t they simply let her be now?
How could blood relatives be more vicious than strangers?
Hot emotion welled up, and tears blurred her vision—but she forced them back.
She would not cry. Showing weakness would not earn her pity; it would only invite them to pounce and tear at her throat.
“Why… why are you doing this to me? What have I done so wrong that you order me to die as a sacrifice? ”
Heeyeon summoned the very last of her strength. Never once in her obedient life had she dared to speak back this long.
“You still pretend ignorance? You are the cursed child who severed the Jeong bloodline. This house can only prosper once you vanish! And you dare ask why? ”
I finally found a use for you, and now you throw it away?
Hearing the Grand Matriarch mutter with suppressed fury, Heeyeon’s face turned ghostly pale. Rage, despair, and something sharp and choking twisted violently inside her chest.
“I… I never asked to be born this way.”
Her breath hitched as she forced the words out.
“Perhaps not. But what does it matter? It is your fate.”
The Grand Matriarch pressed the curse upon Heeyeon’s life yet again. The same words she had heard since childhood—each one a blade—echoed inside her skull.
But Heeyeon pushed them away. She set her jaw, eyes sharpening.
“Even if my fate is cursed, I will not die as a sacrifice.”
“Oh? If you refuse… then so be it. Return to your room.”
The Grand Matriarch waved her off, clearly displeased. Heeyeon was grateful, at least, that she didn’t order servants to drag her away. She rose shakily.
Her legs almost collapsed beneath her, but sheer will kept her upright until she reached her quarters.
Half a day later, a loud commotion stirred outside. Curious and uneasy, Heeyeon opened her door.
“Grand Matriarch, please spare me! ”
The desperate cry was unmistakable—Gopdan.
Heeyeon forgot her shoes entirely as she sprinted into the courtyard.
There, Gopdan knelt in a battered heap, bloodied and barely conscious, surrounded by murmuring servants.
“How dare a filthy maid touch her mistress’s belongings? ”
The Grand Matriarch’s enraged voice cracked like a whip.
“S-sa… save me… I never… I never did such a thing…”
Gopdan was swaying on the edge of fainting, barely managing to protest her innocence. Heeyeon knew instantly what had happened.
Her head spun, blood roaring.
Because she refused to die, they had chosen a helpless child in her place.
How clever, how cruel, and how monstrous could these people be?
Heeyeon stepped forward, shielding Gopdan with her body.
“What is the meaning of this? ”
The Grand Matriarch scoffed, shooting Heeyeon a cold glance.
“If you’re angry, be angry at me. Why take it out on an innocent child—? ”
“You misunderstand.”
She cut Heeyeon off with a chilling smile.
“A trinket of mine was found in your maid’s room. Imagine! A child so young already showing signs of theft. I know you cherish the girl, but such crimes must be punished harshly. Otherwise the servants forget their place.”
“No, Grand Matriarch! I swear—I swear I didn’t steal anything! ”
Gopdan trembled, voice cracked and raw. Heeyeon bit her lip hard.
This was nothing but a staged farce. No pleading would change the Grand Matriarch’s mind.
How could she save Gopdan?
Her eyes scanned desperately—and fell on her mother, Lady Sim, watching silently from the edge of the courtyard.
Mother… please. Just once. Please help me.
Heeyeon knew her mother disliked her, but she still sent that hopeful, desperate gaze.
Lady Sim understood it perfectly. But she remembered the Grand Matriarch’s words from earlier that day:
“You must harden your heart. Remove what must be removed, and the gates of fertility will open to you once more.”
“Is… is it truly possible for me to bear a child again? ”
Her voice had shaken uncontrollably.
She remembered the physician’s verdict—pregnancy would be near impossible. Her world had collapsed then. Still, she had clung to the faintest sliver of hope.
Her husband, Jeong Jaehyeon, as rigid a scholar as he was, had taken a concubine only to secure an heir. He longed for a son from his main wife.
Failing to provide one was a fatal flaw for any mistress of a noble house.
“If casting aside what is unnecessary brings you a precious son, what is there to hesitate for? ”
Lady Sim had hesitated—briefly.
But she could not deny how often she had wished Heeyeon had been born a boy instead.
“…I will obey your wishes, Mother.”
She had agreed. Convinced herself it was for the family.
So now, as Heeyeon pleaded silently, Lady Sim turned away.
Heeyeon’s last hope crumbled.
A servant’s life meant nothing. Whether Gopdan had stolen or not was irrelevant. If the Grand Matriarch wished her dead, she would die.
Heeyeon’s fingers trembled violently as she clasped them together. She would not lose the only person who had cried and hurt in her place.
“…I will do it. I will obey your wishes. So please… spare my maid.”
The Grand Matriarch’s lips curled in satisfaction.
“I did not realise you treasured the girl so.”
Gopdan looked between them with frightened confusion, unable to understand. Too weak even to breathe properly.
“Well then, since you beg so earnestly… I shall show mercy this once.”
“Thank you… thank you, Grand Matriarch.”
Heeyeon couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice. The Grand Matriarch’s pleased tone sickened her.
“M… my lady…”
Gopdan mouthed weakly before collapsing unconscious.
“See to her wounds.”
Heeyeon ordered the nearby maidservants, but they hesitated until the Grand Matriarch finally nodded.
Only then did they rush forward to carry Gopdan away.
The reality of her own helplessness settled bitterly in Heeyeon’s chest.
Three days later came the day of the sacrifice.
Ever since the shaman at Samgaksan had vomited blood and collapsed mid-ritual, no one dared volunteer. Rumours of missing travellers had only grown worse.
Still, some had to cross the mountain to survive—so people continued to vanish.
Then came the sudden rumour:
The eldest daughter of the Minister of the Left had volunteered herself as the offering to save the suffering people.
On a moonless night so dark it swallowed the air itself, crowds gathered at the Samsan Shrine to see the girl at the center of the rumour.
“Mercy, that poor child… she’s not even married yet.”
“Such courage… to offer herself for the nation.”
Pity filled their gazes.
Yet no one tried to stop her.
They believed sacrifice was the only way to end the calamity.
Some even praised the Jeong family for their noble decision.
Dong, dong—
The drums boomed, silencing the crowd.
The high monk stepped forward, lighting incense and chanting the ritual prayers.
Dressed in white mourning clothes, Heeyeon sat pale and still, watching numbly. The drums and gongs echoed like distant thunder, unreal and hollow.
So… I’m really going to die.
After the ceremony, she would be taken deeper into the mountains—left as prey for the rumoured monster.
She felt no grand sense of heroism.
What comforted her more was knowing Gopdan would live.
Gopdan had not awakened since that day. But Heeyeon had secured her safety with her own life—surely she would be spared now.
When Gopdan woke and learnt the truth, her heart would break. But strangely, knowing someone would shed real tears for her brought a small, fragile warmth.
Maybe… this is for the best.
A life of humiliation and cruelty had worn her thin.
Perhaps death was kinder.
The chanting ended.
“Let us go.”
Carrying torches, three or four sturdy men and the high monk urged her forward.
Heeyeon looked once—just once—at the Grand Matriarch and Lady Sim standing far back.
She did not bow.
She would not give final respect to those who sent her to die.
The bitter cold didn’t even register as she stepped over dry leaves and climbed the mountain path, one heavy step after another.
Eventually, the high monk stopped.
Deep in the untouched forest stood dozens of stone towers, surrounding an altar encircled by sacred ropes—who built them, no one knew.
“We’re here. Bring the young lady forward.”
Heeyeon stumbled as she was guided into the circle.
The sacred ropes felt like a snare tightening around her throat.
“This may offer you some comfort.”
The high monk placed a lantern before her, as if offering charity.
“I pity you… truly.”
His expression softened briefly—then he drew a dagger and sliced her left palm.
“Ah!”
Blood gushed down her hand.
“I pray you find peace in the next life.”
With a bow, the monk gathered the men and hurried away.
The darkness swallowed Heeyeon whole in an
instant.
