Chapter 1

April.

The dazzling sunlight poured through the bus window, making Soo-yeon squint. She raised an arm, shielding half her face.

“I don’t know how much hotter this summer’s gonna be again. Feels like spring turns right into summer, fall into winter—weather’s just gone crazy these days.”

“The earth’s losing its mind, so of course people are too. And the weather’s just tagging along.”

Through the small gaps between her fingers, shadows of Soo-yeon’s long lashes fluttered.

The bus’s air conditioner had long since given up. It had been on the road almost as long as the driver’s forty-year career. Now, in its twilight years, the old machine carried just five passengers—including Soo-yeon.

Cherry blossom trees stretched in lines along the narrow road. The radio hummed softly, filling the air with a familiar tune—one her grandmother, Yong-soon, used to hum when business was good at the market. Back then, the petals would burst into the air like popcorn with every note.

“Heading to Seoul today?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose this is the end, isn’t it.”

Mr. Kim, face weathered and tanned under a faded cap from the local pesticide shop, looked at her kindly. The woman beside him jabbed his ribs before he could continue.

“Why ask that, when Granny Yong-soon has already left us? Soo-yeon’s done enough here. It’s time she went her own way.”

Her white blouse sleeves swayed gently with the rattling bus. Soo-yeon smiled silently.

She had been only seven when her parents died in a sudden accident. Since then, her grandmother had raised her—but this winter, even Yong-soon was gone.

She still remembered her grandmother’s words, spoken on her deathbed:

“My dear, Soo-yeon… it’s time for you to live your life now. When I’m gone, think of me for just one day. Then forget me, go to Seoul, and live well. Don’t look back. Promise me.”

Now, each spring when the cherry blossoms bloomed along this familiar road, her heart would tremble all over again.

“Our driver always plays the songs your granny liked whenever you’re on board. He’s heard them so many times, he could sing them in his sleep.”

“True enough, but why do you always say our Soo-yeon, our this, our that? She’s not just yours, you know.”

“Did I? Ha!”

From the back, a man leaned forward between the seats, lowering his voice.

“You heard the news?”

“What news?”

“About Yoon-jae. Jung Yoon-jae.”

“Of course I know him—Chairman Jung’s grandson, the peach farm heir. Used to come here every vacation. Handsome kid—so much so my wife and I thought he was a girl when we first saw him. Why bring him up now?”

“The company redeveloping this village? Word is, Yoon-jae’s one of the top executives.”

“No kidding?”

“Not kidding. My source is solid.”

The men went back and forth, while Soo-yeon’s brows furrowed tighter with every word.

“Redevelopment here? What profit’s in reviving a dying town like this? Not even a proper supermarket, everyone still takes the bus to the market.”

“Ever heard of golden land? Sure, living here ain’t glamorous, but it’s like a hidden treasure—close to the sea, packed with vacationers in summer. Old Chairman Jung knew it. Bought up all the land ages ago. That sharp instinct for money runs in the family, no doubt.”

The men’s gazes drifted toward Soo-yeon.

“You know Jung Yoon-jae too, don’t you, Soo-yeon?”

She stayed silent.

“Of course you do. You and Yoon-jae, back then—”

Mr. Kim quickly twisted the man’s side.

“Ow! Alright, alright, I get it.”

Jung Yoon-jae.

A name she could never not know.
A name she must never forget.
A name she couldn’t escape, not even in dreams.

A single cherry blossom petal drifted in through the half-opened window, landing softly on her hand. Stroking it gently, Soo-yeon closed her eyes.

The cicadas had been screaming since dawn, their noise pressing into every corner of the house.

Chairman Jung sat like a stone statue, staring at the massive front gate. Time dragged.

At last, the gate opened.

“Grandfather!”

The boy’s voice split the silence, and Chairman Jung’s eyes softened instantly.

“Well, look who it is. My dear Yoon-jae.”

In polished black shoes and neat white socks, wearing a brown checkered jacket, twelve-year-old Yoon-jae ran straight into his grandfather’s arms.

“You said you couldn’t come. What changed?”

“It’s summer vacation.”

“Already? Time flies.”

The old man’s face bloomed with a smile he hadn’t worn in months.

“Father has work, so he’ll come on the weekend. Mother too… maybe.”

“Never mind that. Look at you, taking the bus all by yourself. You’ve grown so much.”

The driver behind him bowed, leaving the suitcase and shopping bags before departing.

“Grandfather, are the peaches ripe yet?”

“Peaches? You come running here just to ask about peaches? You’ll make me jealous.”

“I’ve told you more than ten times—peaches are my favorite fruit in the world. Well, aside from you, of course.”

“Haha! Of course, of course.”

Chairman Jung’s eyes wrinkled into a smile as he ruffled his grandson’s hair. He was a man of immense wealth, owning vast peach orchards, heir to a lineage of landowners.

“Grandfather, but I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?”

“This land—it’s all yours, right? People call you Chairman Jung, right?”

“Right.”

“But every chairman I’ve ever seen lives in a huge mansion, drives big cars, has servants all around… So why do you live alone in the countryside?”

“I don’t live alone—there’s Mrs. Jeju who helps around the house, and the driver.”

“Still, this isn’t what a chairman’s life looks like.”

The boy’s innocent words made the old man laugh until his shoulders shook. At last, he wiped his eyes and said:

“Yoon-jae, money isn’t just about what you can see.”

“You mean there’s money you can’t see?”

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“Then can I go see the peach trees before dinner? Just a quick look.”

“Can you manage on your own?”

“Grandfather, I’m twelve. I’m not a baby anymore.”

Hopping down from his grandfather’s lap, Yoon-jae mounted his bicycle.

“Be careful, alright?”

“Yes! And don’t tell Father.”

He loved Yongsoo Village more than suffocating Seoul. Riding down its endless roads, lungs burning, heart pounding so fast it felt like it might leap out of his chest—he lived for that feeling.

The cobalt sky was splashed like watercolor, dotted with clouds so close he thought he could touch them.

“Beautiful.”

He grinned, pedaling harder.

“Perfect.”

But then—

“Wh-what—!”

A white figure appeared out of nowhere.

“Move! Get out of the way!”

He swerved too late. The bicycle toppled into a ditch. Yoon-jae flew, tumbling into the thick weeds. Dizzy, he lay still, ears ringing with the spinning wheels of his fallen bike.