Further away from Shinju they move, the less signs of winter become. There are still lingering traces of autumn in fields, frozen grounds and last wilting flowers. Nights are punishingly cold, biting winds stealing any meager warmth flames would provide. Indignity and unfairness of it all bear deeper than those on Seol's conscience.
Beom is extracting his own personal vengeance from Seo, and vicariously from her. She would never live this down. This disgrace and helplessness. She wonders if Yong is going through a torment of similar kind, where his ego is getting beaten and stripped as hers was. Or, she thinks with a daring heart, if his torment had more physical nature.
She has seen the wicked pleasure in Beom's eyes during the brief mention of her brother. If anything Beom regretted failing to have his hands on Yul, which in turn made her fear for Yong, and for the twins. The poor children, dangled on the face of so much uncertainity without a warning.
