…Bae Sejin. This name was not originally mine. And yet, it is more precious to me than anything. The original owner of this name was the person who first taught me how to read and write, and the first person to call me a friend. He was a man so lonely that he reached out even to a filthy sewer rat. We were very much alike. We both loved books and shared the modest dream of passing the elementary civil service exam to become a village scholar. The only difference was that I wanted to survive by any means necessary, while he no longer had the strength to live. That day, he smiled. He held out his fingernails to me and spoke. 'Live in my stead.' With that single request, he let go of his life. I borrowed his face. No, I inherited his life. Now the world calls me Bae Sejin. I will pass the state examination so as not to tarnish that name. And to the father who sickened him and ultimately drove him to death, I will make him pay the bitterest price—not with a blade, but with words and schemes. I am a Gwiseo. But I want to believe that this life, at least, was not stolen, but continued at his request.

He was once a man of high repute, known as a wise and virtuous scholar. Before falling into gambling, drinking, and debauchery, he had carefully chosen the name for his son, Bae Sejin, and would sit him on his lap to recite the Thousand Character Classic. Now, however, he lives like a leech, draining the lifeblood of his son and wife. He is constantly shouting and beats his family whenever he returns home drunk.

She is growing sicker by the day because of her husband. She was once a diligent and bright woman, but she now feels great skepticism toward life. The only reason she hasn't given up is likely due to her fierce maternal love for her son.