AC! – Chapter 9

“Who even cares about that these days? The person who’s good at it should do it.”

Scrape, scrape. Kangjun began peeling the chamoe with practiced ease, and after exchanging glances, the grandmothers chimed in.

“That’s right, that’s right. Whoever’s good at it should do it.”

“True. Even my daughter-in-law can’t do it that well, so my son does it all.”

The peel came off in a smooth, even thickness, revealing the bright yellow flesh beneath.

How is he that good with a knife?

While she was secretly admiring him, the melon—now carved with all sorts of little flourishes—was set neatly onto a plate.

“Kangjui, how are your hands so nimble? Can you make it into a flower too?”

“What kind of flower would you like?”

Apparently, he felt no embarrassment at all saying things like that. Kangjun answered them shamelessly, smooth as ever.

How on earth had this man gotten this close to the grandmothers?

Before she left the village, she’d never even seen his face. It wasn’t like a bit of thoughtful courtesy could make elderly villagers open their hearts this wide to an outsider.

At most, they’d only known each other for around ten years. Yet he seemed several times closer to them than she was. It was baffling.

Just as Sowon was puzzling over it, Deokrye Grandma suddenly spoke up, as if she’d remembered something.

“That’s right. Come to the village hall tonight.”

“The village hall? Why?”

“We have to throw a feast to celebrate you coming back.”

“Oh no, you really don’t have to.”

She waved her hands in refusal, but Chunsim Grandma cut in.

“If not now, when are we gonna have a feast? All of us old grannies and grandpas are bringing all kinds of food, so you’d better come, alright?”

“Why are you deciding to throw me a welcome party on your own—”

She only realized Kangjun was looking at her after the words left her mouth. It shouldn’t matter, and yet the slight lift of his eyebrow bothered her.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll come.”

Was it because she hated the look on his face that said he’d expected that? Or was it the childish feeling that she was losing the grandmothers to him? She wasn’t even particularly attached to them, yet irritation pricked at her all the same.

“You’re really comin’, right?”

Sowon nodded, accepting the slice of melon Chunsim Grandma handed her. The sweet flesh spread through her mouth as she took a bite. The faint heat in her chest slowly settled.

Once her body relaxed, what rushed in was muscle soreness.

She’d only worked half a day—how could her entire body ache like this? Listening to the grandmothers chatter among themselves, Sowon stole a sideways glance at Kangjun.

His large hands, strong enough to crush a melon with just a bit of pressure, were peeling fruit with meticulous care.

If I keep working like this, will I build some muscle like him?

I won’t turn completely bulky, right?

They said hard labor chased away worries. As she watched the muscles flex faintly in his forearm, her thoughts drifted into pointless directions—only to realize the saying was true. A soft snort of laughter escaped her.

This kind of experience… wasn’t so bad.

***

The fieldwork didn’t end until four o’clock.

After dragging her sticky, exhausted body through a shower, she came out to deal with her luggage—and immediately ran into trouble. She’d thought she’d packed all her underwear, but no matter how much she rummaged through her things, she couldn’t find her light blue summer set.

Did I drop it somewhere?

In the end, she put on something else and checked her phone, which had been buzzing nonstop. The culprit was the group chat with her college classmates—a chat that had been quiet for a while.

[Hey, hey, did you hear? Gyeong Sowon quit her job and went down to the countryside.]

[Huh? You sure you’ve got that right? There’s no way. Pride’s the only thing she’s got.]

[Exactly…? Even when people found out she was pretending to be rich when she had nothing, she still stuck it out.]

[Guys;; Sowon’s still in the chat;;]

[Ah….]

This message has been deleted.

As she blankly reread the lines, the messages disappeared one by one.

Should I just pretend I didn’t see it?

Her pride slowly raised its head. They’d talk trash either way. Instead of ignoring it, a childish urge to confront them head-on took over.

[I just came down for a bit to try country life. It’s trendy these days.]

Once she replied, an impulse to explain everything surged up all at once.

[And since you all still seem to be misunderstanding, let me say this: you were the ones who assumed things. I never once went around saying I was rich.]

As if possessed, she typed and sent the message.

Regret came immediately after. Sowon smacked her perfectly innocent fingers and muttered,

“Should I delete it now?”

When she checked the screen again, the read count was dropping rapidly.

“Ah….”

Sighs poured out of her.

Of all times, it had to coincide exactly with the end of the workday. Most of them had already seen it.

“Whatever.”

She tossed her phone onto the sofa and sank to the floor, knees bent.

Leaning her back against the couch, she buried her face between her legs—and the memories she’d tried so hard to suppress surged back in like the tide.

“Sowon, I heard you’re an orphan?”

It had started with a coworker’s question. They’d been at a company dinner, and it had seemed like something said carelessly under the influence of alcohol.

The source was a senior from her university, whom she’d been getting to know with some interest. They hadn’t officially dated, but he’d been someone she relied on. The betrayal cut deep.

“Did you spread my personal story around?”

“Yeah. There shouldn’t be anyone else who gets scammed like I did.”

“What did you just say?”

“I mean, the way you carried yourself, you totally looked like some rich only daughter. I thought I’d hit the jackpot. But you’re an orphan, and your grandpa lying in a hospital bed has nothing but some worthless rural land. What is this?”

“When did I ever say I was well-off with my own mouth?”

“Hey, you never denied it. You acted so damn expensive, I put in all that effort—just a waste of time.”

Were all her efforts wrong?

Trying not to look provincial. Trying not to show that she had no parents. Trying not to disgrace her grandfather.

No. The real mistake had been pouring out her hardships to that piece of trash. She’d been stupid to think he was trustworthy.

That senior spread all kinds of rumors about her. She never even got the chance to explain that they were misunderstandings, that they were all lies. He was influential—well-liked, with a clean, exemplary image.

Reputation wasn’t something you could ignore. Most people believed him. No one doubted his words.

There was nothing Sowon could do but stay silent.

She’d thought time would dull it. Instead, the rumors only grew. In university, they said she’d had a sponsor to pay for school. At work, they whispered that she’d flirted with a married man to get promoted. Absurd lies tormented her.

Then, as if that weren’t enough, she received news of her grandfather’s passing.

The grandfather who had raised her without lacking anything, after her parents died in a car accident, he had left to join her mother.

With that one fact—that she would never see him again—everything she’d been running toward collapsed.

The reason for her life was gone.

In a daze, she impulsively cleared out everything in Seoul.

She thought if she stayed in the house where she’d lived with her grandfather, everything would somehow be okay. So she left the rumors as they were and ran away.

And yet, even here, everything was a mess. The house was still under renovation. She’d ended up abruptly living under the roof of a strange man.

“Girls like her can’t adapt anywhere. They just drift around, pretending, that’s all.”

The voice of a coworker she barely even knew rang stubbornly in her head.

Knock. Knock.

Someone knocked at the front door. Sowon, who had been buried in the past, startled and lifted her head.

She wiped the tears that had soaked her cheeks and opened the door. Kangjun stood there.

Under his silent gaze, she rubbed at her eyes again for no reason.

“I wasn’t crying.”

“Did anyone say you were?”

Her overly sensitive reaction seemed pointless; Kangjun showed not the slightest interest in her tears. Embarrassed, Sowon quickly lowered her hand.

“Exactly. My eyes are just naturally red.”

She snapped back with a flippant excuse. His eyebrow twitched.

“The elders are waiting. Get ready and come out.”

“They’re waiting? Why?”

“The welcome party. Did you forget?”

“Ah.”

Because of the group chat, she’d completely forgotten about the celebration.

“I’m sorry. I’m not really in the mood—”

“When you’re feeling down, it’s not a bad idea to let alcohol lend a hand.”

Was that so?

Hesitating, Sowon closed her mouth. After a short sigh, she shoved her feet into her shoes.

Right. I’ll just drink my fill. Why not.