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Chapter 11
Yeon-woo, unable to find the words to respond, only mouthed soundlessly as if to mirror her confusion. Jung-ha then tossed out a meaningless remark.
“I’m good at fighting too.”
“…Who said you were good at fighting?”
“Uh, apparently my face says so.”
Had this guy been brainwashed somewhere about face reading?
At the absurd statement, a clear laugh burst out of Yeon-woo’s mouth. What kind of nonsense was a “fighter’s face,” ahaha. Her bright laughter blended with the sound of waves, creating an unexpected harmony.
“Were you some kind of delinquent in Seoul?”
“Do I look like one?”
“No. You look like you had no friends.”
The trembling look she had before was gone, replaced with a loose mouth and relaxed eyes. Seeing him chuckle and even crack jokes, Yeon-woo realized his mood had lightened a lot.
“My face says I had lots of friends, actually.”
“Don’t believe that guy. You didn’t pay him a bunch of money for some weird junk, did you?”
Yeon-woo couldn’t stop the laughter spilling out of her rosy lips. This time, she even playfully tapped his shoulder without hesitation, making Jung-ha put on a mock-scary frown.
“Cut it out.”
Yeon-woo could tell from his tone that he wasn’t truly annoyed. So she kept giggling until finally clutching her stomach and laughing loudly. Seeing her enjoy herself over nothing, Jung-ha’s lips curved into the faintest smile.
Just then, a hermit crab carrying its shell trudged slowly across in front of them.
It looked heavy, but only just enough for it to bear—carrying the weight of life it could manage, moving slowly yet carefully.
Peace, however, always shatters without warning. Something that had only ever happened inside the annex now spilled outside that tiny room for the first time.
“So this is the ‘young master’? He ain’t shit.”
Thud—Park Jung-woon’s solid fist struck Jung-ha’s face just as the two stepped back through the blue gate at dusk.
“Park Jung-woon!”
Hearing Yeon-woo’s shrill cry, her aunt came rushing out of the annex in a panic. Without reason, Jung-ha spat out the blood pooling in his mouth.
“…”
Jung-woon’s eyes rolled with a grotesque aura, his drunken body swaying as if possessed.
“W-what’s going on, Yeon-woo?!”
“Auntie, U-woo Jung-ha got…”
When her aunt saw the young master’s lips split open, her face drained white. The sight of them returning side by side had clearly enraged Jung-woon.
The violence he inflicted on Yeon-woo days ago, and now this blow—both carried with them the weight of his inferiority toward the “refined, wealthy young master.”
Knowing this, Jung-ha turned his head and gave Jung-woon a derisive smile.
“You little fucker.”
“What, you want me to hit you more?”
“You think I can’t just because you’re a young master?”
Jung-woon’s face flushed purple with rage. Jung-ha, wiping the blood from his lips with his thumb, actually laughed—a rare, tooth-baring grin.
“Jung-woon, for god’s sake!”
Reading the dangerous fury in her son, Yeon-woo’s aunt clung to his thick arm.
“Let go! This little punk isn’t worth shit!”
Twisting violently, Jung-woon flung his arm wide, sending his mother flying back as his elbow struck her chest. She tumbled to the ground. Yeon-woo, seeing this, froze in shock.
“Auntie!”
Her panicked cry pierced the annex. Eyes burning red, Yeon-woo glared at Jung-woon. Her aunt was still groaning, unable to rise.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“What the hell am I doing?”
“If you’re drunk, go sleep it off!”
Yeon-woo had never once defied him before—not when she was living off her aunt, not when Jung-woon towered over her, all muscle and menace.
But now, fists clenched, she shouted right back. Jung-woon’s expression cracked like glass.
Ha… what the fuck should I do with these two?
He muttered curses under his breath, swaying drunkenly on his feet, his face a flushed, bruised red.
Yeon-woo’s defiance had clearly gotten under his skin. He started looking around for something to grab, and sensing this, Yeon-woo hurriedly stepped in front of Jung-ha.
Bloodshot eyes clashed.
“Hey, didn’t I tell you not to hang around that bastard?”
“…”
“Did that bastard pay off your loan or something? You stupid bitch, straighten yourself out. If rumors start, what the fuck are you gonna do? Huh?!”
Loan shark.
At that single word, Yeon-woo’s trembling shoulders faltered. Her anger ebbed away.
Truthfully, no reason could ever justify Jung-woon’s violence. Yet Yeon-woo still took a step back from Jung-ha, face pale.
“…Woo Jung-ha.”
“…”
“Go.”
“What?”
Her cousin’s violence, senseless as it was, managed to break her fundamental will—to fight, to cling to her own life.
The small sense of safety she’d felt with Jung-ha dissolved. The moment she stepped back into the blue gate, it stabbed her heart again—reminding her she couldn’t breathe freely here.
She caught a blurred glimpse of Jung-ha’s split lip. Bringing him into this hell brought nothing good. Look at what had already happened—chaos that never should have occurred, all because of her.
Yeon-woo laughed bitterly to herself.
So what if you came back from the sea? You thought your life would change? You thought being next to Jung-ha made it better?
No illusion could be more foolish. No matter how many days passed, the heavy storm cloud over her life wasn’t going anywhere.
If he stayed near her, Jung-ha would only get dragged down into filth too. Hanging around the unluckiest girl in Gojung-eup…
“Seo Yeon-woo.”
“…Young master.”
“…”
“Please don’t ever speak to me again.”
Tears welled but didn’t fall, brimming in her wide eyes. Of the four people present, only Jung-ha didn’t understand this ridiculous situation.
All he’d done was take Seo Yeon-woo to the sea. What was so wrong about that? Yet the moment he saw her trembling, pulling away, his lips closed.
“I’m sorry.”
Lowering her head deeply, Yeon-woo’s words weighed heavy in the air. Jung-ha’s eyes darkened with frustration. He wanted to say more, but already people from the main house were spilling out, having noticed the commotion.
If his mother came, he knew full well—Seo Yeon-woo wouldn’t be allowed to stay in the annex anymore.
Her obsessive gaze, once fixed on her husband, had long since shifted onto her son.
“…Lift your head.”
“…”
“Did you commit some crime?”
Damn. With that, Jung-ha turned away.
Yeon-woo, still staring at the ground, couldn’t even bring herself to glance at his retreating back. Behind him, her aunt’s desperate pleas trailed—“Young master, young master, please…”
Still bowed, Yeon-woo’s tears finally fell, dripping onto the withered grass.
“…What the hell.”
Uncle Yang-gyu, arriving late, groaned when he saw Jung-woon sprawled out drunk.
Muttering about having no face to show his mistress, he noticed the upstairs curtain of the main house snap shut.
It wasn’t even mid-February yet, and her nineteenth year had already begun in chaos. In that short moment, the winter wind had swept past Jung-ha and Yeon-woo.
She could still smell the forest lingering at the tip of her nose—the scent only Woo Jung-ha carried, already buried in her memory. Realizing this, Yeon-woo wept harder.
Crouched on the ground, her lips trembled open in silent sobs, but no sound escaped.
So no one would ever know that the debtor Seo Yeon-woo was still living in the orchard house. And so she stayed like that, weeping, until the sun finally set.
