TSIT 1

Chapter 1. Baekryeon (1)

Plump fingers like grapes sliced through the midnight current.

Along the crude webbing of her paws, the once-quiet stream scattered, and through it swam a dark little beast.

The moment her wide, sharp eyes caught a flicker of movement—

Her sharp fangs snapped up a slippery snakehead fish.

Clutching the thrashing prey in her mouth, the creature emerged onto land. It was a baby otter.

Before she could even savor the joy of success, she dove back into the water.

While the people of the capital slept peacefully, the small creature’s short gray-brown fur had no chance to dry.

Splash, splash.

After diligently combing the stream, the otter managed to secure four or five fish in her grasp.

Flap, flap!

Hugging the prey she had struggled to catch, she shook her drenched head.

She lacked both sleep and stamina; her small body ached all over. But she could not neglect her nightly task of catching fish.

The otter—no, Soram—had a conscience. She had to repay kindness.

To Granny Geum, who had taken in Soram when she possessed nothing at all.

Even though she helped with various chores at the old woman’s bookshop, it was not enough to repay the debt.

To earn what humans repeatedly emphasized as the “worth of one’s meals,” Soram made use of the only talent she had.

Wiggling her hips as she crawled forward with difficulty, the tiny creature suddenly lifted her chin.

“Ppyong!”

So exhausting!

Leaving behind that brief lament, she dragged her heavy body along.

She slipped into a secluded shed and curled up in a corner, quietly waiting for sunrise.

For two hours each day, she would return to her true form. Especially on nights when the moonlight deepened the yin energy, becoming human was even more difficult.

Thanks to spending the entire long night devoted to repayment, a red glow soon began to rise.

As the sluggish sun climbed and illuminated heaven and earth, Soram’s body was enveloped in a sacred light.

Before long, the short glossy fur vanished, leaving only pale skin behind.

The young woman pulled out the clothes she had hidden earlier and hurriedly dressed.

After stuffing the freshwater fish into a netted sack, she quickened her pace. Though her face was weary, her eyes sparkled with innocence and intelligence.

Geum Soram.

A name formed by attaching the character for “person” to what humans treasured most—a gem.

She truly was special. From a young age, she had possessed thoughts unlike other beasts.

Yet her insignificant drifting life had changed in an instant because of one event.

The day a human child she was close to fell into the water, Soram had thrown herself in without hesitation.

The day she saved him and instead met death herself—

That was when she received radiant words.

Special being. By virtue of your merit, you have been born again.

Ah, how sweet and exhilarating that revelation had been.

Even as only half a human, she was happy. Special being. That alone made her tiny heart pound.

If she awakened intellect, emotion, and will, she could rightfully become human—that added promise she repeated to herself again and again. And so Soram would sneak into human settlements whenever she could, observing them and imitating their speech.

Long ago, when she had roamed the riverside peacefully with her family as an otter, that had been good too…

She blinked quickly, erasing the blood-red afterimage from her mind, and hoisted the sack.

Her small otter’s wish was simple: once she became fully human, she would repay the benefactor who had saved her.

For now, though, she needed sleep first.

“If I go back now, I can sleep for two hours.”

Since Granny Geum woke early, Soram had to hurry back to the bookshop before the rooster crowed.

The sound of a wide, cool river winding along. A place where a group of otters once cut through the water like a black dragon.

It was surely Dalcheon.

In the blink of an eye, pitch-black night descended.

The gleaming eyes of birds of prey flashed—

Ssshhhk.

A rain of arrows poured down, exploiting the stillness.

Hunters crowded the banks, casting nets and loosing arrows. In an instant, the once-clear stream turned dark red.

A river soaked in blood. Parents and brothers sprawled helplessly. Countless lives slaughtered.

Soram swam and ran without stopping—until the hunters were out of sight. Until their killing could not reach her.

Blood dripped from her mangled body, claws torn away. Terror burst in her chest as though it might explode.

Just as her fur bristled all over, a large man appeared before her.

The jade ornament at his waist swayed wildly.

“The sun is high in the sky!”

The booming voice, loud as a gong, shattered her deep sleep.

A dream!

She had experienced it several times since becoming human, but it still felt unfamiliar. Sweet dreams of honey were pleasant—but nightmares like this were dreadful.

Soram shot upright, rubbing her eyes, and staggered out of her room.

“If you’re that lazy, can you even earn your keep?”

Granny Geum clicked her tongue as she looked at the drowsy young woman. Arms crossed, standing straight, she was the one who had picked up Soram when she wandered as a beggar.

Because of her brusque words and manner, she might seem heartless at a glance—but Soram could feel her true nature.

Having come to the capital from a remote village with nothing, Soram had barely managed to live as a human thanks to Granny Geum.

If the old woman hadn’t taken her in after catching her secretly reading stolen books in the shop, Soram would surely have starved or frozen to death.

Knowing this debt, Soram briskly washed up and tended the shop.

Though Granny Geum’s bookstore was not large, it was filled with neatly arranged volumes.

Stocked with high-quality books that met the owner’s exacting standards, it was quietly known among scholars. Thanks to that, Soram could continue her “stolen studies.”

Tomorrow was finally the entrance exam for Baekryeon Academy.

The very academy that lay at the heart of why she had left her hometown.

“You can learn everything there?”

She had heard it from a peddler who carried rumors from every region.

“Of course. Talents proficient in all fields will lead the nation—what a blessing that is.”

“How do you get in? Can someone without money apply?”

“As long as you’re under twenty-four, family background and wealth don’t matter. Once admitted, they feed you, house you… even provide funds to maintain dignity befitting the academy’s reputation. Vast courtyards with flowing streams, ninety-nine tiled halls stretching in all directions! Most admitted are young nobles well educated from childhood, but every so often, a dragon rises from a humble stream.”

Baekryeon Academy—where scholars of noble character were raised amid muddy worldly turmoil.

Five hundred years old, the oldest and most prestigious academy in the Kingdom of Baek.

The rumors might sound exaggerated, but the talents it had produced were truly remarkable.

And so Soram planned to awaken the three human qualities there and become complete.

Among brilliant minds, intellect would be natural. Emotions would come from living among people.

According to the scriptures, humans possessed seven basic emotions: joy, anger, sorrow, pleasure, love, hatred, and desire.

As for will—if even noble parents sent their will-less children there to cultivate it, surely she too could master it.

After cleaning the shop, secretly studying, and serving customers, Soram sat down to lunch with Granny Geum.

“You’re really going to take the entrance exam?”

Her hand paused as she picked up a piece of grilled snakehead fish she had caught herself.

Despite her scolding tone, Granny Geum gestured for her to eat.

“It’s easy to talk. Noble sons from powerful families stand like iron fortresses. Do you think a child from some insignificant household can overcome that? Countless people give up before even daring to try.”

She continued grumbling without even looking at Soram.

Words about destined nobles and meals meant for certain people flowed endlessly.

All those four-character idioms were things Granny Geum herself had taught her.

She always told Soram to leave quickly, to go far away—and yet now she told her not to take the exam.

Soram didn’t understand humans who said one thing and meant another.

But she didn’t dislike Granny Geum.

Unlike her cold words, her warm hands placed side dishes gently atop Soram’s rice.

As she accepted everything given to her, Soram made a vow.

Even if she entered Baekryeon Academy, Granny Geum would always be her precious grandmother.

They even shared the same surname—surely heaven had made them family.

Soram rose early and prepared to head to the academy.

She owned nothing of value; her small bundle was nearly empty. It didn’t matter to her.