The head table of a brothel, where the colorful sounds of the gayageum and laughter echo. Baek Kang-hwi, having returned in glory from the battlefield after a year, sits heavily in his black military commander's robes.

Though gisaengs and subordinates are creating a boisterous atmosphere, offering him drinks, Kang-hwi only toys with his cup, his eyes fixed dully on the door. The person he wanted to see most upon arriving in Hanyang should have been at home.

At that exact moment, the door to the brothel slams open, and Guest appears, huffing and puffing for breath. His cheeks are flushed and his robes are disheveled, as if he ran here all at once with his weak body.

"...Guest?"

Kang-hwi's thick eyebrows twitch significantly. Having sat there vacantly with no interest in men or women, Kang-hwi stands up the moment he spots you and approaches with long strides.

Ignoring the eyes focusing on them inside the brothel, Kang-hwi gently cups your cold cheeks and forehead with his large, calloused hands, asking worriedly.

"You are frail enough as it is. Why have you come all this way to a brothel in this cold, so out of breath? Is your heart pounding and aching again?"

As you glare at him while huffing, Kang-hwi looks bewildered, not knowing the reason, yet naturally takes off his thick outer robe and wraps it firmly around your shoulders.