AC! – Chapter 8

Kangjun’s chili field was unnecessarily systematic and unnecessarily aligned in perfect rows.

Maybe the grandmothers’ jokes had burrowed deep into her brain, because impure thoughts kept invading her mind.

“This chili has a weak waist, so you have to secure it tightly with a string.”

Was he trying to make up for real sexual inadequacy through chili farming? If that wasn’t it, he didn’t even seem like someone in sales—so how could he be this passionate about growing chilies?

Considering the suspicious titles of the books in his house, and the way he managed ten thousand pyeong of chili fields with this much care…

“Are you listening?”

Sowon, who had been lightly tapping the clusters of hanging chilies, jerked her head up.

Focus returned to her hazy eyes. In Kangjun’s hand were a freshly plucked chili stem and a green string used to secure the support stake.

“Ah… could you please explain that one more time?”

“For chilies with weak waists, you tie them lightly in this shape.”

“Oh, yes. That shape.”

Sowon pulled herself together. She focused on his explanation so there would be no room for indecent imagination to slip in.

But she was terrible with hands-on work. By the time she’d fumbled and creaked her way through it, dawn had already broken. Just when the motions were starting to feel familiar, her stamina hit rock bottom. Sweat streamed down her forehead in the rising heat. In the end, she tossed the support stake aside and flopped onto the dirt.

“Humanely speaking, I think this counts as labor exploitation.”

As she exhaled, staring up at the clear sky, Kangjun—who had been tying another stake—shook off his gloved hands and looked over.

“There should at least be a break.”

Sowon muttered, sliding her sunglasses down over her eyes.

She had always been confident in her stamina, no matter where she went. But farm work was beyond imagination.

Who would’ve thought squatting and doing repetitive work could be this torturous?

Meanwhile, Kangjun didn’t look tired at all. Thick forearms. Broad chest. Solid thighs. That body clearly hadn’t been built for show.

Sowon clicked her tongue at his iron stamina.

As she steadied her breathing, a thick forearm gradually drew closer.

“There is another method.”

Following the large shadow cast over her head, she turned her gaze. He had crouched down right beside her, lowering his head. Startled by the sudden proximity, her voice rose.

“W-what do you mean?”

As she blinked warily, Kangjun grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and fluttered it.

One million six hundred twenty thousand won.

Sowon snapped back to her senses, shot him a glare, and snatched the string.

“Who said I wouldn’t do it? You need to move so I can get up.”

She waved her hand dismissively and pushed herself upright. A rush of hot air engulfed her. Sliding her sunglasses up onto her head, she let out a sigh.

A debtor was pitiful anywhere. That was an unchanging truth.

Unlike her spirited declaration, the next task was much more complicated.

“Chilies that are too small or deformed should be picked early so they don’t hinder growth. These are discarded chilies.”

Kangjun lifted the chili in his hand as he explained.

“…Okay.”

Finding deformed chilies wasn’t the hard part. It was watching Kangjun be this sincere about chili farming—and herself, unable to stop imagining indecent things every time the word “chili” came out of his mouth.

“Ah, this one’s seedless. These aren’t spicy.”

There it was again—chilies. Sowon could no longer stop her thoughts. Clenching her fist, she abruptly shot to her feet.

“Chili, chili! Why do you keep going on about chilies like that?”

“If you don’t call a chili a chili, what do you call it?”

Kangjun frowned up at her as she huffed in agitation.

She was at a loss for words. He was right. A chili was a chili. But she felt like she had to rebut something, so after a moment’s thought she opened her mouth.

“…Pepper?”

“Korean chilies are in the chili family. They’re a different species from peppers. The shape, the fragrance, and the spiciness are completely different.”

She hadn’t expected such a serious answer. Feeling her face grow even hotter, Sowon whipped her head away.

“I think I can handle it from here. Go take care of your work.”

If she stayed next to Kangjun, she felt like she’d keep having strange thoughts. She took a long stride to move away.

“Huh?”

The tip of her boot caught on a stone.

Wow, how does this even happen? Just as her body pitched forward, Kangjun—who had already risen—snatched her by the waist.

Her heart pounded.

As she exhaled in surprise, his low voice fell over the crown of her head.

“For reference, chilies are spicier than peppers. They’re smaller, but still. So…”

He removed the straw hat hanging around his neck and placed it directly on her head.

“Stop being so clumsy and just focus on working.”

***

“Why does he have to make a fuss about taking care of me, seriously?”

In the end, she decided to weed until she got used to the work.

The moment he’d grabbed her waist kept replaying in her mind, and Sowon stabbed the ground viciously with her hoe.

“And what kind of explanation was that?”

If every word that came out of his mouth sounded strange to her, then clearly some obscene demon had lodged itself in her ears.

Seedless chilies. Spicy. Why did everything sound like that?

She was muttering as she continued digging up weeds when the grandmothers approached.

“Sowon, why are you talkin’ to yerself? The work goin’ okay?”

This was all their fault. Still crouching, Sowon lifted her head with a resentful expression. Beyond the brim of her straw hat, three wrinkled faces came into view one by one.

“Looked like you and Kangju were gettin’ along earlier. Sparks flyin’ a little, eh?”

Grandma Deokrye bent her knees and crouched beside her as she asked. It was that uniquely rural-grandmother tendency to subtly pair up young men and women.

“What? No way.”

When Sowon laughed in disbelief, Grandma Deokrye nudged her side with her elbow.

“Why? Ain’t he decent? Gave you the annex for free, didn’t he? That’s first-rate groom material.”

“How much have you even seen to call him first-rate groom material? And I exchanged fair labor hours for lodging. And besides…”

Trailing off, Sowon turned her head toward Kangjun walking in the distance.

“That person’s just not it.”

For a moment, the atmosphere cooled.

Grandma Deokrye laughed awkwardly.

“That’s true. For a man, what’s between his legs matters. We shouldn’t be matchin’ Sowon with Kangju if he’s a sexual cripple.”

“Exactly, that’s what I’m saying. So no matter how… no matter how handsome he is, or how good his body is, or how unexpectedly kind he is—”

Sowon abruptly clamped her mouth shut mid-sentence.

…What did I just say?

Realizing she’d indulged in useless thoughts again, she struck the dirt even harder.

“Goodness, that ain’t a weed!”

“What?”

Startled by Grandma Deokrye’s sudden shout, she snapped her head up. Grandma Deokrye grabbed the plants strewn across the ground, aghast.

“Good heavens, look what you’ve pulled out. You uprooted all the perilla.”

“Perilla? Why is there perilla in a chili field…?”

“We plant this and that in between. Oh dear, look at these tender leaves all trampled. You grew up in the countryside till high school—how can you not tell the difference?”

If she’d seen the leaves properly, she would’ve known. But she couldn’t argue when she was clearly in the wrong.

Rubbing her hands on her pants, she let out a deep sigh. Grandma Chunsim added on.

“Unnie, don’t you remember? Old man Bang Gitae raised Sowon like a princess, didn’t he? Wouldn’t even let water touch her hands, doted on her like crazy.”

“Oh, right, right. When she was in school, he’d drive her an hour each way on that cultivator every single day.”

“That’s right. Sowon was a total princess, so she can’t do rough work like this.”

“A princess, a princess.”

With Grandma Eulnyeon chiming in from where she sat on the ground drinking makgeolli¹, hearty laughter rang through the chili field.

Embarrassed, Sowon averted her gaze.

“Let’s have some saecham². Kangjun! We’re hungry!”

After the burst of laughter passed, Grandma Deokrye straightened her back and called out loudly.

Claiming they’d exhausted all their energy from laughing, the grandmothers led Sowon beneath the shade of a large zelkova tree. Before long, Kangjun walked over slowly from the truck carrying a large cooler.

The grandmothers unfolded their small seat cushions and sat in a circle.

Where should I sit?

As she stood awkwardly, looking around, Kangjun untied the shirt from around his waist and spread it on the ground.

“Sit.”

“…Thank you.”

Before she knew it, she had sat on it. From the cooler, a tray, chamoe³ melons, sikhye, and rice cakes were taken out one by one.

“Let’s try the fruit Sowon peels.”

“A young lady has to peel fruit prettily to marry well.”

Burdened gazes poured down on her.

What do I do? I’ve never peeled fruit before.

When she was young, her grandfather never let her hold a knife, saying she’d hurt her hands. After moving to Seoul, she only bought pre-cut fruit.

So she’d never had the chance—or the need—to peel fruit herself. It was a truly awkward situation.

She was just staring blankly at the knife and chamoe placed in front of her when—

A large hand suddenly reached out and pulled the tray away.