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Chapter 03
It wasn’t Yeonwoo’s will that her teeth kept chattering. She had been feeling light-headed for a while now, and her dizziness grew so severe that it felt as though someone were standing on her head, weighing her down.
“Hey.”
“…What.”
“Don’t fall asleep.”
She already knew. This wasn’t a good sign.
If she blacked out like this, she might die—even without falling into the sea.
Seo Yeonwoo, dead from hypothermia after jumping into the sea in the middle of winter wearing only her school uniform.
Even she had to admit, it sounded humiliating.
And then, as her mind wandered, she realized no one would bother to retrieve her body anyway. That thought made her lips twitch with a crooked smile. They wouldn’t mourn her; instead, they’d probably complain about the cost of her funeral. She could already hear her aunt’s shrill, biting voice in her head.
The man who had been watching her frowned as though he were witnessing something strange.
“Why are you grinning like that? You crazy?”
“…Why do you keep talking down to me?”
Yeonwoo’s weakened voice wavered faintly. From inside the padding jacket the man had given her, she could smell his scent. Not the cheap smell of her own worn clothes, but the fragrance of fabric softener and the warm, masculine scent unique to him.
For the first time, she realized a scent could be warm, even sweet. Yeonwoo raised her large eyes to him.
“Gojung High School, Seo Yeonwoo.”
“…?”
How does he know my name?
Startled, Yeonwoo flinched as the man lifted a finger and pointed toward her chest. Following his gesture, she looked down and realized she was still wearing her school uniform.
“….”
“A high schooler, huh.”
In an instant, her name, age, and even her school had all been revealed. Yeonwoo groaned inwardly.
What a stupid mistake. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to wear the last thing her mother had ever bought her. She hadn’t thought it would hand her identity to a stranger.
“Then how old are you?”
“Why do you care.”
“Your name?”
“…Are you interrogating me now?”
She parted her lips, trying to argue, but no words came out. Half of her resisted the idea of giving her name when he already knew hers. The other half thought—he did save me, after all. Maybe it was only fair.
But the man seemed unwilling to share, so perhaps there was no need to press.
That was what she thought—until it happened.
“Jungha!”
“….”
“Woo Jungha!”
Shit.
He didn’t say it aloud, but his face clearly spelled the word.
A middle-aged woman was calling out to him from afar. She drew closer, her eyes widening at the sight of the two dripping, shivering figures.
“Jungha!”
“What a bother…” the man—no, Woo Jungha—muttered, looking for all the world like a boy reluctant to be scolded.
But then, as if dusk had fallen across his face, a shadow passed over him. Yeonwoo thought she caught a flicker of resentment aimed at the woman, and glanced at him curiously.
The woman was clad in a dazzling cashmere coat, clearly no ordinary person. She looked every inch the type who would be addressed as madam.
“What happened here!”
“…Nothing serious.”
“Nothing serious? In this freezing weather…”
Her gaze shifted to the padding Yeonwoo was wearing. Was it expensive? Hastily, Yeonwoo began to shrug it off, but Jungha’s brow furrowed deeply.
“Mother.”
His voice sank low—like nightfall itself. The woman flinched, her body trembling, and Yeonwoo, nervous at the tension, carefully stood up.
The woman’s eyes swept over the uniform under Yeonwoo’s jacket, then to her bleeding feet.
“…As long as you’re all right.”
The woman pressed no further.
Ordinarily, anyone would be suspicious upon seeing a drenched girl in the middle of winter.
Yeonwoo could only blink, suffocated by the atmosphere, when the woman suddenly asked,
“By chance, do you know where Ire Orchard is? We seem to have lost our way.”
Whether they were truly lost or simply uncomfortable leaving a soaked, injured girl behind, Yeonwoo couldn’t tell.
“…Yes.”
Since the buses had already stopped running, she gave a cautious nod. The woman took that as her cue and strode off the beach, leading the way.
She paused now and then to shake the sand from her shoes but never once looked back.
No one offered to support Yeonwoo, despite her injured foot. Only Woo Jungha walked slowly, matching his stride to hers.
An eerie silence fell, heavy as the calm before a storm.
Half an hour later, the foreign car the woman drove finally arrived at Ire Orchard.
Only then did Yeonwoo realize why the mother and son had been wandering by the beach. They truly didn’t know the way, and the woman was a poor driver to boot.
“We’ve arrived,” the woman sighed in relief, cutting the engine.
As soon as they stepped out, the warmth evaporated.
Before the headlights dimmed completely, Yeonwoo opened her mouth. She had a feeling she absolutely had to say this.
“Um…”
She meant to tell them—that she, too, lived here at this orchard.
But the chance slipped away, stolen by the man rushing barefoot out of the large blue-roofed house that stood beside the orchard.
“Madam! Oh my, we weren’t expecting you so late. The roads must have been rough?”
“…A little. But luckily, we met this student on the way and found our bearings. Have you been well?”
“I have, but… Yeonwoo, just look at the state you’re in!”
The woman, or rather the Madam, glossed over her own poor sense of direction and gestured toward Yeonwoo.
She pulled out her wallet, ready to hand the girl some money and send her off, but froze when the caretaker greeted Yeonwoo by name.
Slowly, Woo Jungha stepped around the car to stand behind them.
“Do you know this student?”
“Yes, she rents a room here…” The caretaker, Mr. Yang, bowed low. His usually rigid spine had never seemed so pliant before.
But before he could finish his words, a shrill voice split the night air, echoing through the wide yard.
“Seo Yeonwoo! You insolent brat!”
At the vulgar shout, everyone turned to look.
Her aunt.
The sight of her fleshy cheeks and garish work pants brought Yeonwoo crashing back to reality, like storm clouds rolling in.
Her expression froze instantly. Her aunt, too, seemed startled by the refined lady and young man at the gate, her words faltering.
“Uh… and you are?”
“Didn’t I tell you the Madam would be visiting today? Hurry up and come pay your respects!”
Mr. Yang’s rebuke drained the color from her aunt’s face. She had indeed been told—but so furious at Yeonwoo’s absence from the housework, she’d forgotten all about it.
“Oh my goodness, forgive me. So you’re the Madam!”
Her aunt’s booming voice rang out across the garden.
