The Selfless Heroine

Snow slowly melted on his shoulders, soaking the worn collar of his tattered robe. The mountain air bit into his skin, sharp and cold, but Jiho kept walking. Each step left a faint trail in the snow, only to be swallowed again by the winter wind.

It had been two days since he and Sohee parted ways.

And strangely, not a single pursuer from the Tang Sect had caught up.

Shin Jiho took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Warm mist escaped his lips, blurring in the icy air.

"Strange..." he muttered under his breath.

He glanced around—the white expanse, the bare trees standing still beneath the snowstorm. No suspicious shadows. No sound of footsteps behind him. No sign of anyone following. Only silence, and the whisper of the wind.

"Did they lose my trail?" he wondered. "Or... have they not sent anyone yet?"

He felt grateful, of course. As if luck was still on his side, buying him more time to get farther away, to gather himself.

But…If only he knew. If only he knew that instead, they had chosen to go after Sohee. If only he knew that just the night before, there was a clash to hunt down the girl he let go for her safety.

If only he knew... he wouldn't have called himself lucky.

But Jiho didn't know.

All he knew was that his current goal was to reach the nearest settlement. Somewhere safe enough to rest, to make future plans.

He kept walking, following a snow-covered path guided only by instinct and vague memories of an old map he'd once seen at a border outpost.

Eventually, his steps halted at a fork in the road. Two paths split in opposite directions, marked by a weather-worn wooden signpost. The letters were nearly faded by time and the elements.

He stepped closer, squinting to read:

← Hujin Hill – (2 li)→ Nirae City – (9 li)

Jiho stopped, brushing snow off the sign as he read.

Hujin Hill. Close, but not quite what he was looking for. It was better to keep moving.

Nirae Valley... farther, yes, but it led to somewhere bigger. More people, more places to blend in. He could lose them there, if he was lucky.

"Farther… but better."

He tightened his cloak and took the path toward Nirae City, disappearing into the swirling snow.

---

Jiho's boots crunched softly in the snow as he walked along the narrow path, his cloak fluttering in the wind. His mind was consumed by the distance to Nirae City, each step pushing him further from his past, but the snow-covered trees and the vast emptiness around him only heightened the silence. It was then he noticed something—a figure crouched low behind the thick brush, barely visible in the shadows.

Curious, he slowed his pace, squinting to make out the details. A young woman, dressed in the uniform of a martial artist, her movements poised but subtle. She was focused, her gaze fixed on something far off in the distance.

Jiho's brow furrowed. What was she doing here?

He took a few more steps, his feet crunching against the snow, and as he got closer, the young woman's head jerked up, her sharp eyes locking onto him.

"Wait," she said abruptly.

Jiho froze, confused. Who was this woman? What was she doing crouched behind the bushes? And why was she speaking to him?

She didn't give him much time to ponder. "You. Help me with something," she continued, her voice steady and calm.

Jiho blinked. "Help you?" He could only stare, unsure of what she meant. What could I possibly do for her? he thought.

"Look over there," she motioned toward the distant road.

Jiho followed her gaze and noticed a carriage, its horses frantically pawing at the ground. A handful of armed guards surrounded the carriage, but they were outnumbered, trapped by a group of bandits who had them cornered!

Jiho's instincts kicked in, and he straightened. "What do you need help with?" he asked, still unsure of her plan.

"Help them. Fight off the bandits," she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Jiho shook his head, his expression hardening. "Why should I? Are they your friends?"

She met his gaze, unflinching. "No. I don't know them."

For a moment, Jiho only stared, processing the young woman's words. She wasn't trying to save someone she knew. She was trying to help complete strangers, putting herself in danger without hesitation. This woman is... trying to play hero? he thought, his mind swirling with uncertainty.

"I don't have the luxury of helping others," he said, standing up, the weight of his journey pressing on him. "I'm just trying to survive myself."

The young woman gave him a brief look, her gaze scanning him from head to toe. Jiho's worn and tattered cloak, the disheveled state of his appearance—it wasn't hard to tell that he was no wealthy or high-ranking martial artist.

She paused, then said softly, "Sorry."

Jiho didn't know what to make of it. Her voice had softened, and it felt... genuine, but there was no time for that. He had no attachment to these people, nor any reason to risk his own life for them.

He began walking away, but just as he took a step, his stomach betrayed him. A low growl rumbled from his abdomen, the hunger gnawing at him sharply.

The young woman called him again. "Wait."

Jiho paused, wondering what now.

She approached him quickly, pulling something from beneath her robe. "Here," she said, offering him a steaming mantou—soft, round steamed buns wrapped in cloth. "I heard your stomach."

Jiho stared at the food, a bit taken aback. He hadn't expected this. A stranger offering him food, after all he had done was brush her off.

Without waiting for a response, she said, "Goodbye," and swiftly turned toward the carriage, her feet barely touching the ground as she ran.

Jiho reached out instinctively, his hand half-raised, his body still on the move, but it was too late. She was already gone, heading toward the bandits with an expression of determination.