“Moon Ok-Rye. Is this Poseidon’s personal diet plan? Everything is seafood.”
Hyun-wook, who had visited the main building to dine with Seongheon, stared at the table with an appalled expression. A feast was laid out in its entirety, featuring chewy slices of octopus, steamed shrimp, and conch.
As he sat down, Hyun-wook cast his gaze over each individual plate.
“People shouldn’t be this extreme. Are you telling me and Hyung to eat all of this by ourselves?”
“If there’s too much, just invite the ancestors over to eat with you. There are so many people who passed away here; you think one or two wouldn’t show up?”
“Forget it! Ancestors, my foot! I’m allergic to old fogeys, okay? You want me to choke on my food?”
As Hyun-wook grumbled that he would just eat it all, Manager Moon rubbed her hands against her apron.
“You know, Young Master, you find it so hard to say you’ll eat well. A dim-witted person wouldn’t even be able to understand you.”
“I’m only acting this way because I trust you’re sharp, Manager Moon. Anyway, I’ll eat well.”
Hyun-wook chuckled, causing Manager Moon to arch an eyebrow. To her, Hyun-wook was the only member of the Nam family with whom she could speak freely. She had practically raised him on her back, and Hyun-wook was affectionate in return.
While they exchanged words, Seongheon poured grain-distilled spirits from a small tokkuri into a glass. It was a traditional liquor of Domyeongjae, known as Geumseolju, where edible gold flakes scattered like snow when the bottle was shaken.
He poured a glass and sipped it down, checking the time.
He hadn’t run into the woman on his way home, and when he had stepped into Unseondang, the place hadn’t even been swept or aired out yet.
Perhaps because the high-proof liquor had been consumed so quickly, it felt as though his entire body were set ablaze. Seongheon emptied a second glass and picked up a piece of well-boiled conch, his lips slightly parted.
Hyun-wook, sitting across from him, rambled on about trivial matters, but Seongheon felt no interest. He wasn’t even listening. Every time he poured or drank, his gaze instinctively settled on his watch.
He wasn’t waiting for anyone, and no one was waiting for him, yet he felt strangely chased by time.
‘That is a truly monumental thing. Once your eyes are clouded by love, you can’t see what’s in front of you; your ears are completely blocked, and you don’t even know if the water is hot or cold.’
Suddenly, he remembered the worker’s story from earlier that day.
Veins bulged on the back of Seongheon’s hand as he gripped his glass. When he realized that the man’s story and his own current state weren’t all that different, his molars clenched shut of their own accord.
“……so, what do you think, Hyung?”
The impatience rising from his toes to the top of his head—where on earth had it begun?
“Hyung?”
“Speak. I’m listening.”
Seongheon managed to answer, pouring himself more liquor. It was absurd; the high-proof alcohol went down without leaving a trace of scent or taste.
“I’m planning a reunion, and I was thinking of holding it at Domyeongjae this time. I wanted to see if that was okay.”
Seongheon swallowed the drink in one gulp and set the glass down.
“Do as you please. You’re family, so there’s no need to ask about such things.”
“Still, you’re the head of Domyeongjae, Hyung. I have to ask, naturally.”
Hyun-wook laughed. “Hyung, habits are a scary thing. To think that I still need permission to do anything here at Domyeongjae?”
Seongheon didn’t react, merely glancing at his watch and picking up the bottle again.
The more he drank, the more his throat burned, and the greater his thirst grew. The fire consuming his internal organs showed no signs of being quenched—it only seemed to grow fiercer, making his breath long and ragged.
Just then, he heard the sound of Eun-ja’s radio from a short distance away.
“Newbie. Where are you?”
Seongheon, who usually wouldn’t pay attention to an employee’s radio, focused all his attention on it.
─ I’m on my way to Unseondang.
As the woman’s voice drifted through, his pulse raced, as if nothing remained inside him but his heart.
Seongheon finished his glass, wiped his lips, dropped his napkin, and stood up. Hyun-wook’s head tilted to follow him.
“What, Hyung? You’re done already?”
Seongheon pushed his chair back, walked around the table, and looked at him.
“I’m done. Take your time and come over later.”
“Alright, Hyung. Go ahead.”
Seongheon left the main building immediately. His long, purposeful strides carried him toward Unseondang.
*
Yeonwoo arrived at Unseondang a little later than usual.
She was returning from an errand where Eun-ja had asked her to stop by the management office. Standing before the darkened Unseondang, Yeonwoo exhaled, a sense of relief washing over her.
Since Seongheon had left for dinner at the main building, she wanted to finish the sweeping before he returned. She gripped her broom out of habit, then changed her mind and stepped into the study first to turn on the lights. Seeing the mail she had organized that morning, Yeonwoo took her resume out of her pocket and placed it in front of the pile.
‘I know your name, I know your age. I was just wondering if there was anything else.’
It was difficult to remain still after hearing those words.
The first day, she had felt troubled about bringing her resume back home, but upon reflection, she realized she regretted it. Submitting it was the right thing to do, regardless of whether it would be used.
Carefully stacking the resume among the mail, Yeonwoo stood tall. It was a simple document, stating only the company she had worked for and her mother’s address, but she hoped it would serve as a sincere response to the words Seongheon had left her.
After claiming she would take back her dignity, she had shamelessly asked for a job; she didn’t want to be thought of as oblivious. She also didn’t want to interpret his words in any other way.
She stood still for a moment, collecting her emotions, before turning away. Perhaps Seongheon had become the most difficult person within Domyeongjae because he was an elder, a man, and her superior.
She felt a sharp sense of wariness—an inevitable reaction. Cha Yoonseok had also been an elder, a man, and a superior. Even though she knew they were different, her instincts hesitated. Perhaps she would never be able to invite a strange man into her world for a long time. The moment she believed she should follow someone, or let her guard down—those were the moments Cha Yoonseok had revealed his hidden claws.
Yeonwoo left the study with quiet steps. Just as she was reaching out one foot while looking at the shoes she had left on the stepping stone, she lifted her gaze and found Seongheon standing right in front of her.
“Aah!”
She lost her balance, faltering as she tipped forward.
Seongheon reached out, catching her falling body. Unable to put on her shoes, Yeonwoo stumbled, her body leaning completely against him.
Her mind knew she shouldn’t hold onto him, but her startled arms grabbed his arms tightly, clinging to his chest to avoid falling.
“Whew, whew…….”
Heavy breaths escaped her. She closed her eyes tightly, struck by the realization of how close she had come to twisting her ankle.
From an angle that clearly meant he was looking down at her, Seongheon’s voice sounded.
“A person breaking their leg by rolling down the stairs is enough with just your mother, Ji Yeonwoo.”
……Ji Yeonwoo.
It was her own name, yet it felt truly foreign.
“I hope you haven’t gotten hurt.”
And where could the foreign feelings be limited to just that?
“Because it would be difficult to find a staff member to replace you, Ji Yeonwoo.”
His embrace, his voice, his gentle tone.
Nothing about it was familiar.
*
Calming her startled heart, Yeonwoo stood apart from Seongheon and put on her shoes. Her socks were covered in dirt, but she didn’t have the leisure to brush them off.
She clasped her hands, bowed her head, and lowered her gaze.
“I apologize. I didn’t know you had come, and I was startled.”
It was Seongheon who had approached without a sound, so she felt a bit of resentment, but what could she do? She had been scared out of her wits, and the embarrassment was real.
“I’m sorry. I will finish the sweeping quickly and ventilate the room.”
Her cheeks, flushed with heat, made it difficult to lift her gaze. She had no way of knowing what kind of expression he was wearing.
As she passed him with narrow, quick steps, his voice caught her.
“From now on, I intend to try a few things I’ve never done in my life.”
Yeonwoo stopped and looked at him.
“Pardon?”
“Things I’ve never done. Things I don’t particularly like. Things I was confident I could live my whole life without ever doing.”
“…….”
“Well, I’m thinking of trying something like that.”
Yeonwoo’s gaze was full of questions; she couldn’t grasp his meaning.
Seongheon looked at her, slowly closing and opening his eyes.
This thirst, this heat—it wasn’t because of the 35-degree liquor. Nor was it because of the site situation.
“I’m sorry. I don’t quite understand what you mean.”
This woman.
This woman, Ji Yeonwoo.
“I’ll be going now……”
“For instance, a request.”
“…….”
“Or, an impulse buy.”
On this spring night, where insects buzzed in her stead, Seongheon clearly confirmed the emotions rising within him.
“I intend to try. Things like that.”
It was the substance of the emotions he had been unable to find his footing with for days.