🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 3
Jeju-deok gently pressed the back of her hand against Yoon-jae’s forehead.
The heat beneath her palm was higher than usual, and the thermometer climbed past 37.5°C.
After a warm bath and a dose of fever medicine from the household first-aid kit, Yoon-jae soon gave in to the drowsiness of the drug. His eyelids grew heavy and sank closed.
“우짜노.”
“What are we going to do…”
“He’s running a fever.”
“This won’t do. We must call Dr. Park right away.”
“Chairman, I’ve raised two children myself. Kids get sick, they fall, they hurt themselves—that’s how they grow. Don’t worry too much. He’s had the medicine, the fever will break soon.”
“How can you and the chauffeur be so unconcerned!”
“It’s pouring buckets outside. Even Dr. Park wouldn’t be able to make it here tonight. We’ll call him first thing at dawn.”
“After seeing my grandson like this, you still say that?”
“It’s not that…”
“Enough. If Yoon-jae’s fever doesn’t go down, you’ll both answer to me.”
Between their voices, Yoon-jae’s brow twitched, easing and tightening in discomfort.
When Jeju-deok left to prepare abalone porridge, the chauffeur stepped into the room and laid a cool, damp towel across the boy’s forehead.
“Ahjussi.”
“You should be asleep. Why are you awake already?”
“I wasn’t really sleeping. I just pretended, because I knew Grandfather would be angry.”
At that, the chauffeur let out a faint laugh.
“Master Yoon-jae, you took the fever medicine. You must be drowsy. You know what they say—sleep is the best medicine. After all that rain, you should rest without thinking of anything else.”
“But you promised, when it’s just the two of us, you’d call me by name.”
“That was your decision, not mine. I know nothing about it.”
“I still like it better when you just say, Yoon-jae.”
Meeting the boy’s eyes, the chauffeur’s lips curved faintly.
If his own son had lived, he would have been the same age as Yoon-jae.
As he quietly replaced the towel, a shadow crossed his face.
“By the way, what’s this? Surely not yours, Master.”
In his hand was the wide-brimmed hat. Yoon-jae chuckled.
“Of course it isn’t mine.”
Then, like something struck his mind, Yoon-jae bolted upright.
“Ahjussi, is there a girl in this village?”
“What do you mean?”
“A girl about my age, maybe a bit younger. About up to my shoulder. Pale skin, red lips, long hair down to here—almost to the waist.”
“Sounds like a princess from that book I read to you when you were four.”
“Ahjussi, I’m not joking. She looked exactly like that. When I fell… she suddenly appeared, right there.”
“And that’s why you crashed with your bicycle.”
“Anyway, don’t you know who she is?”
“If you describe her that way, I can think of one girl. Yes.”
“Really? Who? Does she live here? What’s her name? Her school?”
“You should ask her those things, not me.”
The chauffeur couldn’t hold back his laugh.
“Must be the owner of this hat.”
“So she is from around here?”
“Most likely. From what you’ve said, I’d guess she’s the granddaughter of the old woman who runs the guesthouse by the peach orchard, near the great zelkova tree.”
“A guesthouse?”
“Suyeon’s Guesthouse. The girl there looks exactly as you described. Very pretty. Very charming.”
“Then… her name is Suyeon?”
“Not sure. It could even be her grandmother’s name.”
“She lives with her grandmother?”
“That’s what I’ve heard. I don’t know the details, but they say she came down from Seoul and lives here with her grandmother.”
That explained why her way of speaking wasn’t quite like the others from Yongso Valley.
Yoon-jae’s eyes flickered as he thought.
On the table lay the ribbon that had once circled the girl’s waist—now stained red from his wound.
Gazing at it, Yoon-jae swung his legs over the bed.
“You’re not seriously going out now, are you?”
“She might be looking for her hat…”
“It’s still pouring. Even if she is, she’ll look tomorrow.”
“But what if it’s precious to her?”
“Even so, it’s past nine o’clock. The Chairman was furious tonight. If word reaches the President, it’ll be far worse.”
“…Still.”
“I’ll return the hat to her myself once the rain stops. For now, eat the porridge Jeju-deok is making and rest.”
Yoon-jae stared at the mud-stained brim of the hat, his heart rippling with emotions he couldn’t name.
The flames roared.
Through the smoke, Suyeon saw her mother’s tear-stained face, still smiling warmly as always, waving desperately.
Even as the heat seared like it would melt her, her mother’s expression was unchanged—gentle, tender, only for her.
Suyeon tried to move, but her body froze. No voice came out of her throat.
The fire swallowed her mother.
Suyeon’s hand reached out, trembling, and at last, warmth began to seep into her cold fingers…
She woke drenched in sweat.
The same dream. Every night.
“아가, 니 괘안나? 땀 좀 봐라. 안 되긋다, 약이라도 가져올게.”
“My darling, are you all right? Look at this sweat. No, this won’t do. I’ll get medicine right away.”
When she opened her eyes, there was no canopy bed, no glowing stars on the ceiling.
Only the faded floral wallpaper, and the familiar scent of her grandmother, wrapping around her small body.
Her breath came hard, chest heaving, her lips trembling. The tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she bit her lip to keep them back.
Because the memory was still too vivid.
Because it was carved into her heart like a tattoo.
Even now, Suyeon was still living in that day.
Whenever she had the dream, she ran at dawn straight to the sea—her mother’s favorite place.
The sea her mother had brought her to every holiday, hand in hand.
The same wind, the same smell of salt, the same sound of waves. All of it etched inside her.
Since coming to Yongso Valley, whenever grief threatened to drown her, she ran to that sea. There, the sound and smell comforted her, as if her mother’s arms still held her.
That day was no different.
“어린 게 을매나 충격이 컸으면 즈그 부모 그래 되고 두 달은 말도 몬했다 카드라.”
“How big the shock must’ve been—for a little girl like her, losing both parents. They say she didn’t speak for two months.”
“어릴 때부터 좀 이뻤나. 본래 사람 손 많이 타고 입에 오르내리믄 팔자가 세다는 말도 안 있나.”
“She’s always been pretty. You know the saying—when everyone fusses over a girl, her fate is bound to be hard.”
“용순 할매라도 있어 다행이제….”
“Lucky she has Grandma Yong-soon. Otherwise, the orphanage would’ve taken her.”
These were the words the villagers always muttered when they saw her.
Day after day, they clung to Suyeon like shadows.
Covering her ears, she ran, faster and faster.
Not seeing the sky grow dim.
Not seeing the sun go down.
Not seeing the bicycle coming.
Not knowing she was about to meet him there.
Later, when Yong-soon gave her the fever medicine and brushed back her damp hair, Suyeon gazed at her grandmother with parched lips.
“Grandma.”
“Yes, my little one.”
“What does it mean… to have a hard fate?”
“What? Who told you such nonsense? Who said that to my precious girl?”
Her grandmother’s face flushed crimson with anger.
“These foolish women, wagging their tongues with nothing better to do. If you hear it again, you tell me right away, understand?”
Her granddaughter was more precious than jewels—born after seven long years of waiting.
Even in death, her daughter had not closed her eyes, leaving her child behind. The memory still pierced Yong-soon’s heart.
“No matter what they say, don’t you mind them. All I need is you. Let’s live together for a long, long time.”
“Then… I won’t have to go to an orphanage?”
“What nonsense. Why would you go, when you have me?”
“But they say kids without parents go there…”
“Didn’t I tell you? Don’t listen to their useless words. My Suyeon will only see good things, eat good food, and study hard.”
Her grandmother stroked her small hand, eyes glistening red.
“All I need is you.”
“Let’s live together for a long, long time.”
