Chapter Text
"Will this rain ever end..."
It was Cheoseo. It should have been a pleasant season of high, clear skies and light clouds, but leaden clouds hung heavy in the distance. A cold, needle-like drizzle pricked its way down Han Yoojin’s thin collar.
The "bride's ceremonial robe" he wore offered no protection from the rain or cold. The embroidery threads on the green wonsam were frayed and pulling loose, and the five-colored saekdong stripes on his sleeves were worn and tattered, so cheaply made that it was worse than a decent everyday garment. Shuffling through the mud of the mountain forest, his hem was caked in sludge, making him look like a bedraggled, vengeful ghost. If the old Confucian scholars back in the village saw him, they would probably shudder in fear and scold him for disrespecting Lord Sangun.
Absurdly, this rain had been pouring for days before he went up the mountain. Seeing the village’s ripening crops about to rot in the waterlogged fields, the gentry had panicked. They fabricated a claim that this was "the wrath of Lord Sangun, whose birthday went unhonored." They had even dug up some bizarre, ancient remedy, insisting on imitating the ancients by drowning a sacrifice to appease the god—forcing him into a bride's robe and sending him into the deep mountains.
In ancient texts, sacrifices at least wore gold and silver jewelry like the yangban nobility, but this group of selfish villagers sent him to his death with nothing but a tattered piece of clothing.
The only stroke of luck was that he hadn't been tied to a stone and thrown into a river. Still, left in this deep mountain teeming with toxic mists and wild beasts, his end wouldn't be much better. No one knew what Lord Sangun actually looked like, but Yoojin knew all too well how savage the wolves and leopards in the mountain could be.
Han Yoojin shuddered. If he couldn't find a cave to shelter in before nightfall, let alone meeting the Mountain God, he would probably become a birthday feast for the wild beasts first.
Drenched to the bone, he gripped branches and scrambled up the muddy slope. Near the edge of his vision, an empty stone cave was hidden behind leaves. Had he not been paying attention and missed this shelter, he would have wandered in the mountain all night.
Heavy clouds swallowed the moonlight, leaving a dim mist. Ignoring the muddy water splashing around him in the dense drizzle, he quickened his pace toward the cave.
Just as his hand touched the stone wall, he froze, straining his ears to listen to the sound inside. Beneath the pattering rain, something was rumbling like low thunder from the depths.
Humans need shelter from rain, and so do animals; there was no telling what kind of creature was lurking inside. Han Yoojin hesitated, standing in place. He had two choices: leave and search for another shelter, risking hypothermia in the rain, or step into the stone cave to hide for a while and see what happens.
Han Yoojin snapped a few dry branches, holding them tightly in his hand as he slowly dragged his steps into the cave.
He tossed a branch in; there was no movement. He advanced cautiously. Unlike what he had imagined, the deeper he went, the warmer and strangely comfortable the cave became. Thanks to the natural terrain, the wind and rain were blocked outside, making it a truly excellent sanctuary. Sitting on the dry ground, Han Yoojin took off the bride's robe he wore and let out a long sigh.
This rain likely wouldn't stop anytime soon.
The villagers always said that wind and rain were the tears of a gloomy Mountain God, and that lightning and thunder were his wrath.
What did the Mountain God have to be angry about? Would a deity who had everything have a worse life than Han Yoojin?
After being chosen as a sacrifice, he had been locked up in an outhouse by the villagers to starve for several days. Only when Lord Sangun's auspicious birthday hour approached was his weakened, defenseless body exiled to this desolate mountain forest. But even if he was framed as a sacrifice and abandoned alone in the mountains, Han Yoojin was fully capable of slipping down the mountain in the dark. He didn't care about sacred offerings or divine duty—honestly, he hoped the rain would keep pouring and starve those heartless bastards to death.
He only wondered if his younger brother, far away in Hanyang, would abandon his studies and return if he heard of this. Back then, they had sold so much of their belongings just to scrape together the travel expenses for him to set out. He definitely couldn't return to that village now.
So where could Han Yoojin go? He wrung out his soaked undergarments, staring helplessly at the curtain of rain.
Once the outside air was blocked, the smell inside the cave became more noticeable. As he took a deep breath, he smelled a strange scent. In the windless stone cavern, the smell of blood drifted.
Could there really be another wild beast in here? Or its leftover prey? At this thought, he stood up, leaning against the stone wall.
His life was worth little anyway, so there was nothing to fear. But if there was a chance to survive, Han Yoojin would still cherish it.
Walking further in, the scent of blood grew even thicker.
A scent this heavy meant a massive size.
Was it a wolf? If he really stumbled into a wolf's den, he had to leave immediately. But the moment he poked his head in and saw the deepest part of the cave, the sight made him take a step back.
Wait, could that be...?!
He held his breath, freezing in place, not daring to move a muscle. He didn't want to wake that thing up—
It was not a wolf; it was far more terrifying. It was a tiger—a massive white tiger, its fur lined with light-colored stripes, its body nearly twice his size. The scent of blood was coming from it. A beast like this would easily defeat four or five of the strongest men in the village, let alone Han Yoojin holding a few tree branches.
The tiger lay with its head buried between its forelimbs, its eyes tightly closed, its body stretched out as it rested. Its thick tail was coiled at its side. Han Yoojin's movement just now hadn't awakened it or put it on alert. If he hadn't seen its belly still rising and falling, it would be hard to tell if it was alive or dead. Seeing this, the only thing Han Yoojin could do was tiptoe back out.
The tiger did not chase him; it hadn't even opened its eyes.
Returning to the edge of the cave, Han Yoojin clutched his chest, still recovering from the shock.
A white tiger? Could such a rare beast truly be Lord Sangun? But how could a deity be injured, lying so miserably in a stone cave? Han Yoojin had once heard from merchants at the market that Hanyang had everything, and that rare tiger pelts sold for a great price—one pelt could fetch a thousand gold pieces, or even a house with several acres of land!
"A tiger pelt this large... must be worth a fortune..."
And it was a white tiger. Han Yoojin had never seen a white tiger, and he figured not many people had.
The yangban officials in their village boasted for so long over a simple wolf skin; if Han Yoojin could get a tiger pelt, it would pay not only for his travel to Hanyang but maybe even leave him with enough to buy property!
He rested his head against the stone wall. Although his limbs were exhausted, his mind was spinning.
Not having seen the tiger's injuries clearly, he deduced that this rainy weather was unfavorable for hunting. The beast must have gone without food or water for many days, so weakened that it didn't even react to Han Yoojin's scent.
So, if he just held out long enough for the tiger to starve to death, would he get the tiger pelt? He could even eat some tiger meat... Though he had never tasted it and didn't know what it tasted like, when you are starving, everything tastes good.
But the tiger was so large. How many days would he have to wait? Or should he take advantage of its weakness and give it a fatal blow with a stone? Han Yoojin was no hunter; he knew nothing about hunting. The only weapons he could imagine were stones or woodchopping blades. Where would he find such a large stone?
Exhausted, he leaned against the stone wall, thinking.
＊
He did not find a large stone.
The rain continued to fall. Under the heavy clouds obscuring the sunlight, Han Yoojin scooped up a few mouthfuls of rainwater to quench his thirst and gathered wild grass around the cave to stave off his hunger. The next day, he went to check on the white tiger again.
The beast remained in its original position without moving. This time, he walked close enough to see blood welling from beneath its forelimb, matting its fur in dark scabs.
It seemed Han Yoojin didn't have to do anything; he only had to wait, and a priceless tiger pelt would soon be his!
Listening to the faint breathing, he stood watching the tiger slumped weakly on the ground.
It wasn't sleeping; it was completely unconscious. In its sleep, a low, muffled rumbling sound came from its chest. Compared to the low groans Han Yoojin heard when he first stepped into the cave yesterday, it now sounded like mere intermittent gasps for breath.
A tiger pelt! Land! A new house!
Han Yoojin gritted his teeth, standing up with all his strength.
He quickly walked to the cave entrance and picked up the pile of tattered bridal wear. Although the hem was caked in mud, the rest of the silk was intact. Without thinking further, he ripped the fabric and returned to the tiger's side. Han Yoojin nudged it slightly with a branch, but the beast did not respond. He proceeded to part the matted fur and inspect the wound underneath.
The wound looked incredibly painful. How did it not make a single sound? Yoojin thought, recalling the distant thunder-like rumbles he had heard.
As he reached out to touch the tiger's forepaw, he thought he saw its whiskers twitch. He quickly pulled his hand back, waiting a few seconds before kneeling down again. The foreign object that had caused the wound seemed to have been pulled out by the tiger itself, leaving only an open gash. He wiped away the blood clots and wrapped the wound with the fabric. Then, he used the remaining strips to wipe away the blood around the tiger, lest the impurities in the blood seep back into its body and cause infection.
Han Yoojin had once cared for an injured stray cat near the rice fields. Small animals were like that; they were even cleaner than humans, and unless they had no strength left, they would certainly clean their own fur.
Once this coat of fur was cleaned up, it wouldn't look so filthy; it would surely look magnificent.
Another day passed. When Han Yoojin changed the fabric strips for the white tiger, he added some detoxifying herbs.
As the rain tapered off, the area he could explore widened. Perhaps heaven believed that Han Yoojin was not meant to die yet; he even found mulberries in the bushes and pine nuts nearby. The bleeding in the tiger's forepaw had completely stopped.
He would trickle some rainwater over the tiger's mouth. Sometimes, he saw a bright pink tongue slide out instinctively past the giant fangs; tasting the rainwater, the tiger's throat would bob as it swallowed. Sometimes, Han Yoojin would gently stroke its chin.
"You probably don't eat berries. That's a shame—the fruit of this season is sweetest when ripe."
Perhaps because he finally had food to eat after several days, Han Yoojin chattered away in high spirits. After Cheoseo, the bountiful autumn would arrive—the season of harvest. Every year, the farmers waited for this moment to gather their crops and thank Lord Sangun for his year of protection.
"This summer has been so strange. Why is it still raining at this time? I wonder what Lord Sangun is even doing."
Han Yoojin moved the tiger's limbs with practiced ease. When the thick paws sheathed their sharp claws, they felt just like oversized cat paws. The cat back home never let Han Yoojin look at its feet. The edges of the clean fur shimmered with a silvery sheen, looking as though they would sparkle under the sunlight.
"I really want to go back and see how our persimmons are doing. I wanted to make dried persimmons to send to Yoohyun this year."
Only the steady breathing answered him, and a soft, purring sound seemed to come from the gently rising and falling chest and belly.
Lulled by the patter of the fading rain, Han Yoojin leaned against the tiger and fell asleep, the soft fur radiating warmth against his cheek.
In the quiet cave, a pair of golden eyes slowly opened.
＊
There was a wonderful scent in the air. It was a familiar smell, but what was it? Han Yoojin blinked open his eyes in confusion.
Bright sunlight filtered through the paper window, casting patterns onto the straw mat. A thin wisp of steam drifted from hot tea, and flower-shaped pastries sat on a low wooden table.
He was no longer in the cave.
The realization hit him, and Han Yoojin bolted upright.
Above him, golden lacquer beams carved with auspicious crane and cloud motifs stretched across the ceiling. Beneath him lay a thick, soft silk mattress, and the gentle warmth of the ondol underfloor heating had chased away every trace of chill from his bones.
"...Did I die in the mountains?" He rubbed his eyes.
Where was he? Could the Mountain God have taken pity on his meager acts of kindness and spared him from the underworld's judgment, whisking him straight to paradise to enjoy a life of ease? Han Yoojin looked at the food laid out by his bed, glancing around, but saw no signs of anyone. All of this seemed to have been prepared just for him.
Paradise really was as grand as they said.
Alongside the dried persimmons he had been craving, there was even yakgwa—the honey cookies he had heard of but rarely seen. Back in the village, the yangban children were given these honey-glazed pastries when they fell ill to ward off chills. He had always wondered what they tasted like. He hadn't expected them to be this sweet. He ate another yellow flower-shaped pastry, licking the residual honey from his fingertips.
A few bites of the treats left him feeling remarkably energized. After finishing his barley tea, Han Yoojin left the room. The corridor beyond the sliding doors was completely silent. He wandered through the grand palace, but saw no signs of servants or officials.
＊
"Is anyone there?"
Standing in such an empty palace should have made him fearful. Yet, perhaps because of the leaves slowly turning red or the cool, gentle breeze, the scenery brought him a strange sense of calm as he wandered about. Walking beneath the blue-tiled roof along the gold-lacquered railings, he found a vast pond behind the palace, framed by miniature stone mountains and apricot trees.
On the small bridge in the center sat a figure impossible to ignore—a white tail hung over the edge, swaying gently. The beast seemed engrossed in watching the carp swimming in the pond. Not wanting to disturb it, Han Yoojin softened his footsteps as he approached.
Before Yoojin could even get close to the bridge, one of those round ears twitched.
...Just like a cat.
"It seems Han Yoojin is entertaining some rather disrespectful thoughts."
When that deep male voice drawled, Yoojin couldn't immediately tell where it was coming from. It took a moment for it to click.
Hearing such a voice say those words would make anyone shudder. Had it been any of the other villagers, they probably would have already fallen to their knees, begging for mercy for their insolence. But having been brought to this place—whether it was heaven or the underworld—without any explanation, Yoojin felt he was the one who should be angry. "How could I? I am just glad to see you in good health, Lord Sangun."
He didn't need to ask to know the beast's identity. In such a strange and beautiful palace, who else could it be?
Lord Sangun—the white tiger—stood up, turned around with effortless grace, and padded toward Yoojin. Those golden, slitted eyes stared at him.
Narrowing his eyes, the god spoke, his voice carrying an ambiguous tone that could have been either amusement or irritation: "I, too, am pleased to see Han Yoojin so full of energy."
His long whiskers twitched slightly.
The white tiger lowered his head, peering down from his height with golden eyes. Even though the beast deliberately lowered himself, his massive frame still forced Yoojin to tilt his head far back. Staring for so long made his neck ache, but he did not look down.
For a moment, the human and the tiger simply stared at each other. Then, a low rumble rolled in the tiger's throat.
"As a servant, does Han Yoojin not know the proper etiquette he should observe?"
"The tea was delicious, the dried persimmons were wonderful, and the yakgwa was especially tasty," Yoojin replied earnestly. "Are such fine treats usually given to servants to enjoy? If so, this is much better than I expected."
"If not as a servant, then why is Han Yoojin here?"
With those words, the beast took a step forward. A shadow instantly fell over Yoojin, blocking out most of the sunlight overhead.
"What have you come for, human?"
"While it is true that I tended to and healed you, I did not come here to be a servant."
"Then who are you?"
"I am the one chosen by the village," Yoojin paused. Though he had actually been framed and locked up by those bastards. "Sent up the mountain on the very day of Lord Sangun's birthday—your bride."
"Bride?" The white tiger's gaze swept over him, his voice tinged with genuine doubt. "I don't see it at all."
"Do you think I'm just some wanderer who got lost in the mountains?"
Sensing the beast's dismissal, Yoojin looked down at his own thin undergarments, then raised his head again. He pointed at the tattered bundle on the tiger's forepaw. "Isn't the proof right there?"
The tattered wedding robe he had torn apart was still bound around the tiger's leg, its bright saekdong stripes stained with dried blood. "Our village pooled their money for a long time just to have a weaver make that wedding robe. Knowing you were in danger, I didn't hesitate to tear such a precious garment apart... Even if you can't tell what it was now, it was a bride's robe nonetheless," Yoojin said, completely righteous.
"I see. However, I do not celebrate my birthday, nor do I have any need for a human bride. You may return."
"Does Lord Sangun think a bride can be rejected so easily? That would violate the customs of the human world! Aren't you, Lord Sangun, the one who values propriety the most?"
"The customs of the human world?"
The white tiger sat down, seemingly intrigued by these unfamiliar words. Yoojin drew out his words with dramatic flair; if he had a clapper in his hand, he would have looked exactly like a professional storyteller. "Yes! In the human world, becoming husband and wife means standing together through thick and thin," Yoojin looked around, adding with heavy emphasis, "and sharing all fortunes!"
Look at this vast, magnificent palace! The comfortable couches and exquisite food! Just a single gold-rimmed plate here was worth enough to pay for a round-trip journey to Hanyang; would Yoojin ever have to endure the disdain of carriage drivers again?
What's more, no one here would force him into the fields, and no one would complain about him wasting food when he couldn't get his fill. If he could live here forever...
Yoojin's eyes followed the fish darting in the pond. ...Yoohyun probably wouldn't have to worry about his livelihood anymore.
"You protect this land, and the people of this earth look up to you with reverence. But living here all by yourself, you must be quite lonely, aren't you?" As grand as Lord Sangun's palace was, Yoojin hadn't seen a single servant or even an animal on his way here. Even a deity must get lonely.
"Every year, everyone offers prayers for your birthday, but no one actually stays to celebrate it with you."
That was why he had been staring at the carp alone on the bridge, even though he had clearly heard Yoojin approaching.
"This year, at least, you have me."
Tigers didn't have eyelids like humans, but Yoojin felt he could see the beast smiling as it blinked and narrowed its eyes. "How rare. And what does Han Yoojin intend to do?"
"Well, on a birthday, we set out a feast, sing celebratory songs, and present gifts."
"Even I do not know when this so-called birthday is. How does Han Yoojin know?"
"Your birthday?"
Lord Sangun didn't know his own birthday? Yoojin's own birthday had been told to him by his family, but did gods have families too?
Looking around the empty halls, Yoojin turned back to those curious golden eyes.
"Your birthday is the day when the searing heat of Cheoseo passes, when the warmth fades and the first autumn breeze rises. It is the moment we bid farewell to summer and welcome the beautiful, bountiful autumn."