The silence did not descend upon the main building until the last of the general tourists had cleared out of Domyeongjae and every gate had been firmly locked.
Various events had been held within the restricted areas of the estate, and over the weekend, a significant number of spring excursionists had arrived to enjoy the season.
Only when the distant, lingering sound of the taepyeongso flute finally ceased did Manager Moon swing the main building’s door wide open. She eased her stiff knees to sit on the veranda, gazing out at the deepening scenery.
“Don’t know? Hey, Grandma, if you live around here, you’ve gotta know. Haven’t you seen her?”
The man was a low-character brute. One didn’t need to engage him to grasp that, but after a few exchanges, it became clear he wasn’t just a low-life—he was scum, something barely human.
The woman in the ID photo was undeniably Yeonwoo. She didn’t even need the image to verify it; she knew exactly where the girl lived and was well acquainted with her mother.
“Looks like you know something, Grandma. If I catch you holding back, I won’t go easy on you just ‘cause you’re old.”
Why, of all people, was this piece of filth hunting for Yeonwoo?
Stunned, she stared at the photo for too long, prompting the man to loom over her. Only then did Manager Moon look up.
“A wife?”
“What?”
“Are you asking if she’s your wife? Did she run away from home?”
At the question, the man exhaled a sharp, jagged breath, as if stifling a murderous rage. He approached with a swagger—arms swinging wide—and nudged her shoulder with his gut.
“Grandma. I don’t like questions. Just answer what I ask. I’m in a hurry.”
“If you were in such a hurry, why didn’t you come yesterday? Why today?”
“Why, this crazy old hag.”
Enraged by the banter, the man raised his hand as if to strike her, but Manager Moon simply opened her shopping bag.
She pulled out a few of Yeonwoo’s mother’s undergarments and waved them.
“Young man. Buy some underwear. It’s nice and breezy.”
“Ha. This old woman has lost it.”
“Don’t you need any? Buy some. I’ll give you a deal.”
“If you’ve gone crazy, just rot in your house, don’t go wandering around! You insane hag!”
“I need to sell these. Just buy some. A hundred won a pair.”
As Manager Moon waved the linens and persisted, the man stepped back, disgusted. Dismissing her as a senile nuisance, he spat on the ground, cursed, and retreated to his car.
“To think someone birthed a monster like that, and his mother actually ate seaweed soup in celebration? Goodness, it makes my eyes water, it truly does.”
Manager Moon, who had been lazily swaying her feet while watching the sun set, muttered to herself.
“What kind of trouble did she get into in Seoul to be chased by such a bottom-feeder?”
Human instinct is a sharp, remarkable thing. Hadn’t there been something suspicious about Yeonwoo from the very moment they met?
Those eyes were pretty, yet they shielded too much. Her posture betrayed a constant, underlying anxiety. She had disposed of her cell phone and hadn’t even told her mother she’d quit her job.
It was difficult to make hasty assumptions, but he didn’t look like the kind of man who would chase a woman living a normal life. What could he be hunting for, his eyes bloodshot with such obsession?
She didn’t want to imagine it, but it was almost certainly money or men.
Whatever the connection, it was poison.
*‘I like it here.’*
Manager Moon sat lost in thought, recalling what Yeonwoo had said while eating a meal some time ago. She blinked slowly, pondering for a long time, before her head snapped up.
“So, she didn’t come here to help her mother from the start.”
For Yeonwoo, Domyeongjae was a perfect shroud.
“Something ominous has entered Domyeongjae. Something truly ominous.”
Seeking a sanctuary where no one could find her, Yeonwoo had simply chosen the shadow of the estate.
*
As soon as they reached the lobby, Yeonwoo went to the restroom to wash her hands, as she had been instructed. When she emerged, clattering along in her high heels, Seongheon was waiting. He reached out an arm as if it were second nature.
Feeling it wasn’t the right time to refuse, Yeonwoo gently took it. He led her straight out toward the manicured garden, and Yeonwoo, walking aimlessly while leaning on him, widened her eyes at the brilliant display before her.
“Wow…”
A gasp escaped her. The yellow lights illuminating the darkness, as if a festival of light had begun, offered an atmosphere entirely different from the day.
Having observed Domyeongjae by day and night, she had foolishly thought there was nothing left to surprise her.
Unlike the quiet, serene atmosphere of the estate—which calmed her bustling anxieties—this place possessed a luxury that made her feet feel as if they were floating. Forgetting for a moment who she was with or where she was walking, Yeonwoo looked around. It was a perfect landscape, the work of an expert, not something that had grown, bloomed, or withered by nature.
Unlike Yeonwoo, who was mesmerized by the night view, Seongheon’s thoughts were heavy.
He realized that the more he pulled her in, the more his internal conflict deepened, until he reached the stark conclusion that he could no longer protect or prevent anything.
Even when he brought her here, telling himself to make her smile. Even when he boasted that he would start some impulse of his own. He hadn’t thought his heart would end up like this. In a life where he had always valued cause and effect, he had never encountered a situation where he could understand neither the trigger nor the consequence.
If this were just a passing phase, he would have let it fade. He wanted to believe it was merely a fleeting moment of madness.
Yet, the thing approaching was quick. It was the very chaos he had spent his whole life guarding against.
“Oh, Managing Director.”
To think that the source of his undoing would be you.
“You said you had something to tell me.”
Had he been too defenseless? When had she slipped in?
While he was stacking questions only he could ask himself, she finished looking at the scenery and turned to him. Seongheon stopped, letting out a heavy breath to reorganize his mind and body.
What was the point of denying it now? His heart was filled with nothing but rage and jealousy at the memory of a strange man’s gaze touching her, and the bitter regret that if he could turn back time, he would never have brought her here.
“Managing Director?”
As she called him again, Seongheon straightened his hand. Yeonwoo pulled her arm away, her fingertips curling, and Seongheon looked at her squarely.
He felt many emotions from her gaze as she stood there wearing his jacket, ready to listen. She seemed nervous, perhaps even a bit uncomfortable.
“I have a question for Ji Yeonwoo.”
“Yes.”
“Thinking about it, you had already arrived in Moksan-Gun before your mother was injured. We met at the bus stop before the accident.”
“Yes. Actually, I had quit my job the day before.”
“Why did you leave Seoul? You don’t seem old enough to be looking for your retirement just yet.”
“Ah, that is…”
Yeonwoo’s mind tangled. She couldn’t grasp the intent of the question, wondering if her answer carried any real importance. She hesitated, her lips twitching with a prick of guilt, before she spoke in a quiet voice.
“I wanted to live a better life.”
She felt Seongheon’s gaze lock onto her.
“There was something in Seoul that was hard to endure, and I missed my mom. I was planning on resting for a little bit and then going back, but then this happened.”
“…”
“I plan to stay here for a while, stay well, and then return. Someday.”
Did she really have any intention of going back? It felt like an uncertain matter, even as she said it. But it was a clear fact that once her mother recovered, she would have to leave.
Yeonwoo raised her gaze. She wasn’t sure if she had satisfied his curiosity, but it was the best answer she could offer. There was no need to go into deeper personal matters or recite plans for an uncertain future.
“I’m not sure if that was the answer you wanted.”
“Hyun-wook. My cousin—does he happen to like you, Ji Yeonwoo?”
What kind of absurd question was this? Yeonwoo’s eyes widened.
“Yes? No? I don’t think so.”
“In the past?”
“No. That’s not it. Absolutely not.”
As Yeonwoo denied it vehemently, Seongheon tilted his chin up.
“Think carefully. Did he ever hover around you like a loser because he couldn’t confess, or is he giving off some strange, ambiguous vibe even now?”
*Like me.*
“No. We were just classmates in the same grade, that’s all.”
This was the first time she had answered so sharply, her own voice cutting through the air. Seongheon heard her spirited tone and let out a small, dry laugh.
So, he had to drag Hyun-wook into this to get a reaction like that, did he?
“Really. Hyun-wook and I, we aren’t like that. It might sound a bit presumptuous, but I have no desire to build romantic feelings with anyone. Not at all.”
Yeonwoo spoke faster than usual. She felt as though he were accusing her of harboring feelings for his cousin, so she put heavy emphasis on every syllable.
“So please don’t worry. If you want, I’ll avoid Hyun-wook while I’m at Domyeongjae. Since boyfriends or dating aren’t part of my life, I will never create anything for you to be concerned about.”
“…”
“I’m disgusted by men.”
The resentment and bitterness toward Cha Yoonseok, long tightly coiled within her, finally spilled out.
Realizing she had said something she shouldn’t have in her desperation to prove her innocence, Yeonwoo clamped her lips shut. She saw the expression on Seongheon’s face, which had been offering only his gaze, shift strangely for a second.
Seongheon, who had stood there as if ruminating on her words, exhaled a short breath.
“That was certainly a presumptuous explanation. It leaves me speechless.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were suspecting me and Hyun-wook.”
“I never suspected you. I just wanted to be sure.”
*Phew.* Seongheon’s breath cut off once more. Yeonwoo looked at him with a face that was even stiffer than before.
“Was the thing you wanted to say just about Hyun-wook?”
“Hardly.”
“Then please continue.”
“Never mind. Can’t have you being disgusted, can I?”
For some reason, Seongheon laughed softly. It was a reaction so ambiguous one could barely call it a laugh, but at the sight of his curled-up lips, Yeonwoo felt her heart sink.
“It seems like I’m going to end up unable to get a word out.”
Even though he spoke in Korean, she had felt like she couldn’t understand him—like hearing a foreign language—but suddenly, she tensed.
…Ah.
How could this be?
“You have many talents. First you leave me speechless, then you stop me from even opening my mouth. Do you know what you’re doing?”
Even standing here in this open space, she wasn’t on guard. She wasn’t worrying that she might run into Cha Yoonseok. She couldn’t feel the usual panic, the pulse beating like a trapped bird.
She felt safe. She had forgotten the terror of someone suddenly grabbing her by the nape of her neck.
“I will leave our conversation for another time. It seems today isn’t the day.”
Yeonwoo slowly closed her eyes and opened them. In the night, the wind grazing her ears began to chatter.
*Don’t worry, just breathe. There is no one looking for you, no one trying to cling to your defenseless back.*
“I will create a suitable time, little by little.”
His presence filled the void where joy had been lacking. Unable to believe the safety growing within her, Yeonwoo bit down on her lips.
…Under the thin moon, my time was safe.
Between the lights I wanted to hold in both hands.
“Let’s go in now. You worked hard today, Ji Yeonwoo.”
Standing under the protection of the blind spot named Nam Seongheon.