Goi approached the Jangto Limit, a remote and tranquil outpost where the sprawling plains of Golpo Gaya met a towering mountain range. It was often untouched by the bustling trade routes and shielded by its natural borders.
This peaceful village often remained isolated and untouched due to its natural borders and the amicable relations between Samul Gaya and Golpo Gaya. Commerce was minimal, as most trade utilized the southern seas.
The villagers led simple lives, with soldiers doubling as farmers, tending their fields until the harvest ended, after which they mostly hunted. Only during harsh winters, when hungry wildlife descended from the mountains, did the village stir from its quiet routine.
As Goi slowly descended the mountain path leading to the plains of Jangto Limit, he noticed a lone woman in a far distance, wandering aimlessly. Her figure appeared faint, almost ethereal.
The spirit of the woman stood in silence, dazed, her eyes sweeping across the forest where the afternoon sunlight was being filtered by thick, trembling leaves. She blinked slowly, turning in place, scanning the quiet woodland path with a vague sense of confusion. Then she lowered her gaze, as if seeing her own form for the first time.
Wait... Why am I here? Her voice was barely a whisper, lost in the breeze.
How... am I here?
She pressed a hand to her chest—though there was no warmth, no pulse.
My name... is Sarin. I died.
A month ago, I followed the Guide into the Other World. I remember it—clear skies, a stillness beyond sorrow, a peace I thought would last forever. So why—
She turned, her eyes narrowing at the slope to her right.
That cliff... I think that's where I fell.
A sudden chill swept through her, though she had no body to feel it.
Yes. That path, two hundred paces down... leads right to the ridge. That's where—
Wolves. There was a wolf.
She stiffened.
That's right. I was startled by a wolf. I turned... I lost my footing. I fell.
Her breath hitched, though her lungs held no air.
...she. Where was she? The one who stood beside me… in that final moment.
At the name, a phantom ache spread through her chest—an emotion too heavy for death to erase. Her voice trembled now, not with fear, but with sorrow.
I was foolish… and I'm sorry. I wasn't enough—for anyone. I wasn't enough for him. For Jingon.
She bowed her head.
You poor man. Just a gentle, awkward soul who felt responsible for a traitor's children. I'm just a young sister of your friend. You married me not out of love, but loyalty. A stupid kind of loyalty, born of friendship and pity. And I—
She closed her eyes.
—I accepted it. I needed safety for my brother and me. That's all I had. We both did. Jingon, you never owed us anything. But you still gave me your troth.
A bitter smile flickered across her lips.
Then came the young woman. Beautiful… too beautiful. I've never seen you look at anyone that way. That fire in your eyes—I didn't even know it existed until you looked at her.
She touched her chest again, the pain returning stronger than before.
I'm already dead. But to remember the way you looked at her... that hurts more than the fall itself.
She turned away, hands clenched now.
When I told you to take that woman in as a concubine, you said no. But your eyes... they betrayed you. I knew. Fourteen years of marriage, and I knew.
A hollow laugh escaped her lips.
In the end, both your wife and concubine met the same wolf on that cliff. And now you're alone. Again. Raising our three children... by yourself.
A long silence followed, and then her voice softened, barely more than a breath.
...This shouldn't have happened.
Suddenly, she stopped moving. Her eyes widened as a vivid memory struck her.
A wolf. A massive one. But... on its left foreleg—
She froze.
That red string. The bracelet!
The forest grew still. Only the birds dared move.
Her breath caught—if such a thing still belonged to her.
Why was it on the wolf's leg?
Wait! Saju… My old brother's voice!
Her eyes darted around in sudden dread. Her heart—or what was left of it—pounded in a rhythm she thought she had forgotten.
Then, higher up the mountain path, she saw him. A young man.
He stood calmly, partially in shadow, but their eyes met—just for a moment.
Did he see me? She blinked. ...I think he did.
Attempting to ignore her, Goi continued on his way, but the soft chime of bronze bells swayed by the wind caught his attention.
As the sound faded, Goi paused and whispered, as if in response, "Yes, I can see her. She looks sad, but her thread to this world has already unraveled."
He walked past Sarin with light, deliberate steps, but suddenly, the chime echoed again, and she spoke.
"Sir... Perhaps... Can you... see me?"
Her voice was filled with sorrow, causing Goi to halt.
"You may have unresolved grievances in this life. Let go and move on," he advised gently.
Sarin, now closer, seemed to fade even more, her presence becoming increasingly tenuous.
"I have no regrets about my life in this world, but please..." she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. As she wept, the bronze bells chimed softly once more.
Goi stood silently, listening to her lament. After a while, her form grew fainter until it was barely visible.
Finally, he spoke again, "I understand. Go now. I will take it from this moment."
Sarin's figure vanished completely, leaving only the gentle echo of the bells behind.
Goi sighed, murmuring, "Alright, I'm going, I'm going," as he quickened his pace down the mountain path.
Descending the mountain, Goi rushed towards the Jangto Limit's administrative office.
After running for a while, he paused momentarily as the bronze bells chimed again.
"I know where I should head. An empty shrine... an empty shrine..."
Goi murmured, standing at a crossroads as the sun set, scanning his surroundings.
The bronze mirror on his chest flickered once, prompting him to nod and sprint towards the shrine. Goi ran on the overgrown path leading to the ruins of what was once a shrine.
The sudden appearance of Goi startled the black-masked men who had been attacking a monk lying on the ground.
Observing the scene, Goi remarked, "She was perfectly right."