My deep soul

Chapter 15

Jinyoen tried to scream, but the cloth pressed into her mouth like a gag. She fought blindly—kicking, twisting—but her hands were bound so tightly her fingers went numb. Panic clawed up her throat, but the sound could not pass the cloth.

Sunwoo saw her dragged away and broke into a run, feet pounding the cobbles. For a wild instant he thought to fling himself between Jinyoen and the men, but a sword flashed at his ribs and forced him to halt. The stranger who held the blade—a broad-shouldered man with a cruel smile—kept the weapon tipped so close it sang against the air above Sunwoo’s chest.

“How dare you wear silk in the capital,” the scarred man spat at Sunwoo, voice hot with contempt. “You must think you have come far to parade like this.” He jabbed an accusing finger at the bound girl. “This pretty thing—her life is easy in the city now, isn’t it?”

“Let her go,” Sunwoo said, jaw tight, eyes on Jinyoen. “Deal with me. Take me instead.” His voice was steady, but his hands trembled by his sides.

The scarred man laughed, cruel and sharp. “Dog-bird—never seen one this frightened.” He flicked his gaze toward Jinyoen, amused. “Strange. I have a feeling it’s because of her.” He leaned in, as if the thought pleased him.

Another figure moved in the dusk—a nameless man with a blade pressed to his own throat, held by a third guardian. He staggered forward despite the steel at his neck, drawn by Jinyoen’s plight. He tried to step closer, to do something—anything—but the blade at his throat forbade it. His eyes flicked to Jinyoen and then to Sunwoo; the helpless rage in them made the scarred man grin wider.

“This pretty girl’s life depends on what you do,” the scarred man said, voice soft as a threat. He lifted the knife at Jinyoen’s throat until the metal’s cold shivered across her skin.

“If you touch a single hair on her head, you’re dead,” Sunwoo warned, stepping forward until his face was white with strain.

The man only smiled. “Then you will die before she does.” His hand tightened. The knife’s edge kissed Jinyoen’s throat; a smear of blood beaded where the cloth met her skin.

Without thinking, Sunwoo lunged. His fingers closed around the blade at his own chest in a desperate, raw motion—grabbing, pulling it aside so the weapon no longer sat at his ribs. Pain flared; the metal sliced his palm. Blood welled hot and red, soaking through his sleeve.

“Kill me now,” he breathed, voice full of reckless dare. Blood ran down between his fingers in a shaking line. His eyes were bright with a terrible promise. “But if you hurt her before you kill me—then I will kill you first.”

For a beat the alley held its breath. The men’s faces flickered—surprise, calculation, then a slow, ugly smile from the scarred man as he regarded the burning wound in Sunwoo’s hand and the madness in the boy’s eyes.

Jinyoen’s tears soaked the rag at her mouth. In the blink before the next move, every shadowed silhouette became a possible end. The nameless man with the blade at his neck watched, trapped between duty and desire to act. Somewhere beyond the press of bodies, the hush of the city seemed to constrict around them all.

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Jinyoen woke to suffocating darkness. Her wrists burned from the rope cutting into her skin, and the gag still muffled her cries. Memory returned in shards—the alley, the blade, Sunwoo’s bloodied hand. Fear knotted in her chest.

Footsteps echoed. She shrank back until her spine pressed against the cold wall. A shadow leaned over her, steel glinting.

“You are the girl the Dog-Bird treasures,” the scarred man sneered, pressing the flat of his knife along her cheek. His fingers gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “A noble lady showing interest in someone lower than her? What a waste.”

Before he could say more, a heavy crash thundered from the next room. Shouts followed. The men cursed and hurried away, leaving her bound.

Jinyoen tried to free herself, twisting her wrists, but the knots only cut deeper. Warm blood trickled down her hands. Her body shook with both pain and terror. Desperate, she kicked against something wooden, ignoring the sharp ache in her legs.

The door creaked open. She froze, heart thundering.

Arms wrapped around her from behind. Another hand fumbled at the gag. She panicked, thrashing and slamming her head into someone’s shoulder.

“Jin! It’s me—it’s me,” Sunwoo’s voice broke through her panic. His tone, so steady, melted her fear. “Hold on.”

Her eyes filled with tears as he pulled the gag away. The first words spilled out trembling. “I thought you were gone. I thought you left me again. I—I was so scared.”

Sunwoo’s jaw tightened. “I promised you I won’t leave you again.”

Jidiwi stepped closer, fury burning in his eyes as he saw the raw, bleeding marks on her wrists. His hands curled into fists, but he forced himself to stay silent.

Sunwoo worked quickly, freeing her hands. Blood smeared across his fingers as he untied the rope. Jinyoen whimpered, shoulders trembling with relief as the bonds loosened.

Then—the voice of the scarred man rang out beyond the walls.
“Where are they? Find them!”

Sunwoo stilled. He glanced at Jinyoen, then at Jidiwi. Without hesitation, he lifted her into his arms and began to run. Jidiwi, though conflicted, followed close behind.

But at the alley’s edge, they were surrounded again. The scarred man and his gang stepped into their path.

Jidiwi stopped, turning to face them. His eyes locked onto Jinyoen’s. “Go ahead. I’ll stop them.”

“What?” Jinyoen’s voice cracked, still raw from the gag.

“Go,” he repeated firmly, gaze steady despite the danger. There was something unspoken in his look—an assurance, a silent confession.

Jinyoen shook her head fiercely. “No. I won’t leave you.”

Sunwoo set her down gently and knelt to undo the last knots. “Jin, you have to go. Don’t look back.” His hand lingered over hers. “If you feel afraid… count to two hundred. I’ll return.”

Her tears blurred everything. She grabbed his sleeve desperately. “No. I’ll only count to one hundred and fifty. Please… don’t get hurt. Come back.”

Sunwoo gave her a faint smile and gently pried her fingers away. Then he and Jidiwi turned back to face the men.

Jinyoen forced herself to run down the narrow path Sunwoo had pointed out, but every step tore at her heart. She stopped halfway, unable to abandon them. She waited, breath shallow, every second feeling like an eternity.

Finally—footsteps.

“Jin… you’re still here?”

Her head snapped up. Sunwoo and Jidiwi emerged from the shadows, battered but alive. Relief overwhelmed her. She ran to them, throwing her arms around both at once.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she beat her small fists weakly against their chests. “I was so worried about you two! What if something had happened?”

Sunwoo held her hands, his voice softer than before. “Come on, Jin. We’re already late for the ceremony. Let’s go.”

Jidiwi stood silent, stunned by the way she clung to him as well, her worry shining through. For the first time, warmth unfurled in his chest. She cared for him—not just Sunwoo.

And as the three of them walked back together, Jinyoen between them, Jidiwi knew his feelings for her had only grown stronger.