Chapter 6

Lee Yeon had taken a taxi to the meeting place.

Two days prior, she’d asked her company CEO to convey her wish to meet the author. The other party had then sent the time and location. Lee Yeon’s firm decision to come alone, dissuading her CEO from accompanying her, was unyielding.

“There are places like this even in Seoul…”

Lee Yeon slowly surveyed her surroundings, taking off the sunglasses that had covered half her face.

Looking back, Namsan Tower was visible in the distance.

From what she’d seen climbing up in the taxi, it looked like an ordinary neighborhood with quaint houses clustered together, but she hadn’t expected to find such a traditional hanok hidden at the end of the road.

She called it ‘hidden’ because lush trees and sheer rock formations encircled the house. It felt as if she had arrived at a remote hermitage deep in the mountains.

“…”

The main gate stood wide open, as if welcoming guests.

Yet, Lee Yeon hesitated, unable to take a step, simply standing still and gazing at the entrance. She bit her lip lightly, then released it, pressing the tips of her fingernails repeatedly.

Only when she realized she would be very late for the appointment could she finally bring herself to move.

She carefully climbed the stone steps, crossed the threshold, and saw a path paved with red earth and black pebbles.

This was probably the way to the main house. Small briers and cherry trees lined the fence, with tiny shepherd’s purse and violets blooming beneath them. She thought she heard the sound of water somewhere. And the faint, distant trill of a nuthatch, a sound she hadn’t heard in ages.

Normally, Lee Yeon would have been immediately captivated by this tranquil scenery. She might have stood there for a long time, unable to pass it by, perhaps even taking out her phone, which she wasn’t very good with, to snap a picture.

But today, she had no such leisure.

Clutching the handle of her bag tightly, she walked straight ahead, her gaze fixed forward. She was so tense she barely noticed she wasn’t breathing.

It was almost a state of panic. On the surface, she might have seemed fine, but her composure had shattered long ago.

Would it explain her tension if she admitted to feeling nauseous in the taxi on the way here, something she never experienced? Tooth marks constantly renewed themselves on her parched lips.

“Lee Yeon, are you really going to be okay? I’m really worried about sending you alone… Why don’t you take Hyeongseok at least?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, CEO.”

“But what do you plan to talk about with that author? Has your mind changed about…?”

“There’s something I absolutely need to ask. I’ll tell you after I get back.”

Lee Yeon had practically stayed up for two full days.

Ever since reading the script, old memories resurfaced whenever she closed her eyes, making it impossible for her to sleep.

Given a chance, the gears in her mind would spin backward. Chewing over a scene would lead to an older memory, an earlier scene. Eventually, it would always return to the beginning.

The first scene of the scenario. The beautiful field where Yeonhwa and San first met.

“Ah…”

When the inner quarters finally appeared, a shiver ran through her entire body. Pink peonies densely surrounded the elegant, tiled building.

And then, a perfectly square stepping stone came into view.

The moment she saw the neatly placed pair of men’s shoes on it, her heart painfully tightened. Simultaneously, a worn, old pair of shoes from her memory overlapped with them.

“San. What about the ones I gave you? The soles of these are completely worn out.”

“It’s fine. If I wear new ones, everyone will ask where I got them.”

“If you just get a little dirt on them, no one will know. Surely… it’s not because of that, is it?”

“…”

San treasured the tiny embroidered flower inside the shoe as if it were solid gold.

A faint smile touched her lips, remembering how he’d asked her to put it inside, saying it would get dirty if placed on the outside.

“Next time, should I embroider a bird? So you can fly freely wherever you go.”

“I prefer flowers.”

“Don’t you want to go far? Aren’t you curious about the world outside, San?”

“I… I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

Lee Yeon quickly wiped away the tears that streamed down her face, unable to stop them, and stepped onto the stone.

The size difference between the neatly removed shoes was considerable. It hadn’t been this much before.

Suppressing a quiet chuckle, she stepped onto the wooden floor and stood before the octagonal, latticed screen door.

‘Inside here…’

The hand she raised to knock trembled so violently that she had to hold it with her other hand. Her fingertips were stiff, as if frozen.

While rubbing them for a moment, she thought. If the person waiting inside really was San, what words should she start with? What expression should she wear?

She had practiced various things all night, unable to sleep, but standing here now, she couldn’t remember anything.

I’m sorry.

That was the only phrase that surfaced in her mind, which felt like a blank slate.

Even “I’ve missed you so much” felt too shameful to say, as if that was the only thing she could utter.

“Hoo…”

Unable to calm her anxiously pounding heart, Lee Yeon knocked on the door.

Knock, knock. There was no response, so she raised her hand again. Then, a short “Yes” came from inside. But that alone made it difficult to tell if it was San’s voice or not.

Before opening the door, Lee Yeon touched the corners of her mouth with her fingertips. She didn’t know what expression she was making.

She wanted to present a decent appearance, if possible, and even gently pressed down on her stiff lips.

Creak. Pale sunlight first pierced through the opening door.

Lee Yeon’s gaze followed the long sliver of sunlight, then slowly moved upwards.

And finally, she met the face of the person she had been waiting for.

“Welcome, Lee Yeon.”

“…!”

“You’re a little late.”

But he… was not San.

Guk Geonwoo watched silently.

He observed Lee Yeon, who couldn’t hide her disappointment and had been staring down at the business card he’d given her for a while now.

How many lines could possibly be written on that small piece of paper that she had to read it over and over again?

What was she thinking inside?

He didn’t possess the skill to discern the intentions of someone who still hadn’t properly met his gaze. So Geonwoo leisurely enjoyed the view until she was ready.

He noted her loosely curled eyelashes and her full lips, which she kept biting.

The tips of her unpolished fingernails were rounded, and her wrist, as slender as a winter branch, had a prominent, round wrist bone. Her slumped shoulders, though covered by clothing, were exceptionally delicate.

Had she eaten anything? She probably couldn’t eat anything due to her nervousness.

The face he’d briefly glimpsed when she opened the door was not just pale, but almost blue with anxiety. Her trembling eyes and erratic breathing when she saw him were enough to make anyone feel uneasy.

What if he had been the person she imagined? Would she have smiled brightly?

Among model Lee Yeon’s photos, there were notably few of her smiling.

He had wondered if advertisers didn’t want it or if she simply found it hard to smile, but seeing her now, he leaned towards the latter.

“Um… Executive Director Guk Geonwoo?”

What was so hard about saying his name? She began very cautiously, raising her head.

It was a moment that brought to mind a poem by a certain poet. The eye contact made him realize the meaning of that ticklish line: that before someone called his name, he was merely an entity.

A much profounder thrill than he had imagined ran through him.

“How’s my name? Does it suit me?”

“Pardon?”

“I’m three years older than you, Lee Yeon.”

“Ah… Yes…”

Her face, blinking as she tried to grasp the intent of what she’d just heard, seemed quite innocent.

“And unless you’re planning to join our company, just call me by my name.”

She nodded with a bewildered expression, gently placed the business card she’d been clutching, and then straightened her back.

She seemed to be belatedly trying to appear composed, but unfortunately, just as she opened her mouth, a knock sounded.

“The refreshments are served.”

Her posture, silently lowering her gaze until the attendant finished setting the table, was elegant.

She naturally received the attendant’s polite bow, savored the tea’s aroma before drinking, and quietly set down the teacup after a sip. Everything flowed with natural grace.

Geonwoo watched her elegant movements intently, then tried to savor the tea himself. However, it was only hot and astringent, not to his taste.

“Guk Geonwoo.”

If only her voice, seemingly imbued with the tea’s fragrance, was different.

“First, I’d like to ask you something. What is your relationship with the person who wrote that script?”

Her eyes, an enigmatic color like unripe fruit or autumn leaves just beginning to turn, clearly met his. They were eyes that probed into something he had carefully kept hidden.

He quietly clenched his back teeth, and she added with a firm tone,

“I’d prefer if you didn’t claim to have written it yourself. It would be a waste of both our time.”

The tearful look he’d seen through the door crack was now nowhere to be found. Her warning, practically telling him not to attempt any lies because they wouldn’t work, was quite sharp.

Should he be disappointed that she regarded him as a stranger, or pleased that his prediction had come true?

Unless she truly possessed some mysterious ability, it was impossible for her to pierce through the truth the moment she met him. But still, he realized in this very moment that he had harbored a little hope.

Geonwoo curled his hands, which were resting on his knees. He rubbed the side of his index finger with his thumb, and only after barely suppressing a smile, could he speak in a normal voice.

“I like it.”

“…What?”

“To the point where I’m willing to waste any amount of time.”

Her incredibly beautiful eyes wavered with confusion.

As her lips, sweet as if one could bite into them, parted slightly, he had to pause for a moment to regain his gaze, which was helplessly drawn to them.

“Lee Yeon. How am I?”

You shouldn’t waver already, Yeonhwa.

This is just the beginning.