She was transmigrated into the body of a dimwitted young tavern keeper and thought she was done for.
Who knew that one jar of wine would make every powerful person in town her patron?
That cold-faced hunter was even more unbelievable.
He climbed a cliff to find her flowers for brewing wine and came back covered in injuries,
yet refused to take any money. He only dared to sneak game through her back door under cover of night.
She thought he was just an honest man.
It wasn’t until he went to war that she learned the truth:
He had fought his way up with everything he had, all so that one day he could take her hand in public without shame.
Later, when the emperor arranged their marriage, he asked, his ears red,
“Can I hold your hand?”
She smiled. “Hasn’t your hand been mine all along?”
