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Perhaps because he hadn’t expected a suggestion to come from Yiyeon, who had been keeping his distance and seemed to be avoiding him, Hyunhak hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Is that alright?”

“……It’s up to you, My Lord.”

Who would dare dissuade a nobleman who had offered to do it himself? If his lord wished to go, it was his duty as a servant to simply say, “Yes, I understand,” and lead the way. Given their positions and relationship, watching Hyunhak ask for his permission made Yiyeon realize he’d brought up the subject unnecessarily.

Now that he thought about it, it was Hyunhak’s fault. He was too kind. Hyunhak cared for him as if he were someone important. It was as if, by doing this, he was somehow his equal. That was why he kept trying to climb above his station without knowing his place.

If he were to leave Hyunhak’s side now and return to the village, who knew what might unfold? If such a thing were to happen, Yiyeon would become a lowly wretch in the truest sense of the word. It was Hyunhak who saved him from becoming that.

‘Snap out of it, Yeon-ah. Keep your wits about you.’

Harboring vain hopes and thoughts toward him was not only a failure to repay the kindness Hyunhak had shown him, but it was also like splashing filth on him.

“I’ll do it,” he said. Instead of answering, Hyunhak rolled up his sleeves, and Yiyeon, his hands reddened by the cold, scooped up a handful of snow and demonstrated first. Rolling a snowball didn’t require any grand explanation, it was just a matter of roughly shaping it into a ball.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s small. Just roll it into a ball like this and keep rolling it in the snow.”

When Yiyeon formed a small snowball, just like the one he’d shown, in his small hands, Hyunhak copied his movements exactly. Yiyeon patiently waited as he fumbled awkwardly with this unfamiliar task. It was a simple task and before Yiyeon could even give further instructions, Hyunhak took the initiative to form the next snowball a little smaller than the one that would serve as the body and rolled it.

After ending up making two snowmen, Yiyeon gazed at their empty faces for a moment, then made a couple of snowballs the size of his thumb and placed them on top of the snowmen’s heads. The round snowballs were pressed into crescent shapes by the force, and since they didn’t stick well to the tops of the heads, Yiyeon rubbed around the edges with his fingers. He hoped they’d melt from his body heat and stick together.

Hyunhak, who had paused for a moment to watch Yiyeon’s actions, saw the two snowballs protruding from the snowman’s head and, like a passionate student, asked again.

“You said that was the head, right? What are you making, it’s not a face.”

“……A tiger. These are the ears.”

Even Yiyeon, who had said it, found the idea that attaching two ears to a snowman’s head made it a tiger to be absurd. Perhaps he hadn’t imagined the answer would be tiger, as Hyunhak’s eyes widened in surprise. A glimpse of which Yiyeon caught out of the corner of his eye.

Feeling a bit embarrassed because the only difference between the snowman next to him and the tiger snowman was the two extra snowballs on its head, Yiyeon made one more small snowball and attached it to its rear end.

“Is that a tail…?”

“Yes.”

Yiyeon answered Hyunhak’s question with a somewhat half-hearted tone. He felt a little embarrassed even after saying it himself. Wasn’t it closer to a rabbit’s tail than a tiger’s? Why was he calling it a tiger just by sticking three snowballs on it, even though it didn’t look like one?

Was it because he’d been dreaming of the black tiger day after day? Or was it just that he suddenly thought of that tiger? He’d done so many terrible things to that poor creature. Perhaps the greatest debt he owed in this world wasn’t to Byun, nor the favor he owed Hyunhak, but to that black tiger.

Since he was no ordinary creature, Yiyeon hoped he was living safely and well somewhere in these mountains. He hoped the reason the black tiger kept appearing in his dreams was simply the guilt lingering in his mind from all the wrongs he committed against him in the past. Yiyeon offered a brief prayer as he looked at the tiger snowman he had made.

“It’s cute.”

Yiyeon, who had been keeping his eyes closed, opened them at Hyunhak’s voice. Hyunhak was grinning at the pooly made snowman. He stolen contentsmiled beautifully, and even his eyebrows, which usually stood slightly fierce, curved into a gentle arch.

For a moment, it felt as if the passing clouds had come to a standstill, and his face flushed as red as the tips of his fingers after touching the snow. He had seen Hyunhak smile at him many times before, but this was the first time he had ever seen him smile so brightly. It was almost overwhelming. The shock of Hyunhak’s smile was greater than that of a cracked skull or a battered cheek, greater even than the “my” he had muttered to himself.

Yiyeon buried his red fingertips in the snow once more. His heart seemed to be beating right there in his flushed fingertips, and all he could think was that he had to hide them. If Hyunhak hadn’t been right beside him, he would have buried his face in the snow to hide it as well. It was so cold it should have stung his skin, yet he could feel nothing but his heart pounding.

After burying his hands in the snow for quite some time, Yiyeon finally pulled them out and looked at his reddened palms. The heat had turned his palms bright red. Just as Yiyeon’s resolve had crumbled at a single glance of his radiant smile, the ice melted away.

While Yiyeon was mesmerized by Hyunhak’s smile, the man who had unintentionally struck him with his smile worked his hands. True to Hyunhak’s nature, he had become skilled in no time. He rolled a snowball, melted it with his body heat, rubbed it, and carved into it with a twig. His profile as he kneaded the snow looked as serious as that of a great artist or craftsman.

Ever since seeing Hyunhak’s smile, Yiyeon had been completely thrown off balance. Like the melting snow trickling through the gaps in his fingers, he could no longer contain or hide his leaking emotions, and he stared openly at Hyunhak, whose hands were moving ceaselessly beside him.

Even though the man was aware of Yiyeon’s gaze fixed on his face, he didn’t seem to mind. There was no trace of embarrassment or awkwardness; on the contrary, he was pleased that Yiyeon wasn’t averting his eyes but was looking right at him.

“What’s so great about making a snowman?” he murmured as he stopped. Hyunhak then held out the finished snowball to Yiyeon. The snow in Hyunhak’s hand was no longer just a simple lump of snow. He had shaped the small snowball here and there until it had become the head of a tiger.

Although the small sculpture was a bit blunt and slightly clumsy due to the limitations of snow as a material, it looked at least several times more like a tiger than the one Yiyeon had made.

“Here, a tiger.”

When Hyunhak handed it to Yiyeon, Yiyeon accepted the tiger he had made with both hands.

“Why… why are you so good at this?”

Yiyeon looked at the snow sculpture he’d handed him and asked, dumbfounded by how unnecessarily well-crafted it was. He knew that if you ​Read on​taught him anything, he’d do it twice as well, but he didn’t need to be this good at this.

“Really? Did I do well?”

“Yes. You’re really good at this, My Lord. It looks just like a real tiger.”

Amazed by his talent, Yiyeon nodded in praise. Then he turned the tiger sculpture in his hand this way and that.

As if Hyunhak knew tigers better than Yiyeon, a former tiger hunter, did, the tiny sculpture was a flawless tiger. When held up to the sunlight and viewed from various angles, it reminded Yiyeon of the black tiger.

Yiyeon turned the fascinating sculpture over in his hands, like a child who’d just received a toy. Compared to the one he’d made, it wasn’t even in the same league. They weren’t even comparable as snowmen. Every time the sunlight hit it, it sparkled and glowed with a translucent radiance, just as mysterious as Hyunhak himself.

Flattered by Yiyeon’s praise, Hyunhak, while he examined the snow sculpture, began to knead snow again. As this fascinating spectacle unfolded before his eyes, Yiyeon, who had forgotten his previous worries, focused his gaze on Hyunhak’s hands.

Hyunhak dug and rubbed the snow, and as he delicately shaped the snowball with his hands, it took on a familiar outline once more. Before Yiyeon could even guess what Hyunhak was making, the subject of his creation flew over and landed right beside him.

–Caw?

Since it was slightly bigger than the tiger sculpture he’d made a moment ago, shaping it was much easier. Hyunhak gently smoothed the surface with his hands until it was sleek, and in the blink of an eye, he created a crow that looked as if it had folded its wings and perched on a fence. Yiyeon thought to himself that with talent like this, he should be a national craftsman rather than just a physician.

Yiyeon, who had been mesmerized by this amazing skill and had been staring at the snow sculpture, only then noticed Hyunhak’s reddened fingertips, which stood in stark contrast to the white snow. Even though Hyunhak claimed not to feel the cold, there was nothing he could do about his hands getting numb.

Realizing too late that his hands had turned red from touching the snow, Yiyeon shook his head vigorously and snatched the snow sculpture from Hyunhak’s hands. He then quickly wiped his soaking-wet hands clean with his own sleeve.

“Your hands are cold. Please stop touching the snow now.”

“What about you?”

Even though it was snow that had fallen overnight, it was practically the same as playing in the dirt. Yiyeon belatedly regretted encouraging Hyunhak to try it.

After confirming that Hyunhak’s hands were completely dry and clean, Yiyeon began to tuck away his own soiled sleeve, but Hyunhak grabbed his wrist. When his attempt to hide the dirty sleeve was stopped, Yiyeon clenched his fist, which was still red.

“I’m fine. My Lord… please don’t get your hands dirty.”

It wasn’t simply a request to stop playing in the snow; there was another meaning behind his words. He felt he was more soiled and dirty than the white snow that had fallen. He felt damp and crumpled, just like his sleeve. At least, that was how Yiyeon saw himself. But the innocent, oblivious man held out the hand he had wiped.

“It’s fine. Your hands aren’t cold, nor are they dirty.”

Making snowmen was over now. He really shouldn’t have gotten involved in childish games. As if spellbound, he’d gone and done something useless again.

Yiyeon pushed the shapeless snowmen he’d made onto a pile of snow. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy the ones Hyunhak had made, so he carefully placed them in a shady spot where the sun wouldn’t reach.

That night, after Yiyeon had fallen asleep, Hyunhak quietly slipped out of the room at dawn. Then he cradled the ugly snowmeb Yiyeon had pushed aside as if they were newborn babies, and held them preciously in both hands. He ran through the mountains faster than the gusts of wind that had blown the night before. Soon, he reached the summit and headed toward the edge of the cliff.

He wanted the snowmen to be placed in his favorite spot, just as he had envisioned. At that very spot, where he used to look down at Yeongsan, Hyunhak seated the two snowmen Yiyeon had made in his place, then descended the mountain once more.

On the open mountaintop, in that prime spot that seemed to reach the sky, a man and a tiger sat side by side, gazing down at the world.