Chapter 7: The Reality Left Behind

While searching the nightstand drawer where he found the glasses, Yunhwan’s eyes caught a brown leather-bound notebook. It clearly belonged to Seonghye and showed signs of heavy use. Its corners were worn, and a small, dainty lock was fastened to it. Yunhwan carefully placed it inside the suitcase.

“Finished packing?”

At Manager Hong’s question, Yunhwan nodded quickly.

“Yeah. These two suitcases are Mr. Min Seonghye’s things.”

“Less than I thought. I figured he’d moved his whole life down here.”

Carrying a suitcase each, the two men stepped out into the yard, where the morning sun was just beginning to peek through. As if yesterday’s commotion had been a mirage, the surroundings were blanketed in their usual silence.

Manager Hong, who had stopped by to pick up Seonghye’s belongings on behalf of Manager Park, grumbled that he hadn’t slept a wink all night.

And as usual, he moved on to complaining.

“I shouldn’t have quit that good company back then to start a business. Right, Yunhwan? My mind was most at ease when I worked with you. I don’t know what got into me to try business.”

Six months after Yunhwan resigned, Manager Hong had followed the trend and started a claw machine arcade business. He still seemed bitter about it. Later, in an attempt to recover from that failure, he poked around the idea of farming like Yunhwan, but quickly gave up when nationwide floods turned the fields upside down that year.

“Is there anyone in Korea who hasn’t had a business fail?”

“If you know that, take some of these dolls. Am I supposed to deal with this inventory for a third year?”

Manager Hong nudged Yunhwan’s shoulder and began quickly loading the luggage into the open trunk.

“I have no idea what kind of story that guy Manager Park has to shove a person into a mountain valley like this.”

Yunhwan followed up quickly.

“You don’t know either, Hyung? Why Seonghye had to come here?”

Manager Hong’s eyebrows shot up at the informal address.

“Seonghye? Wow, you two must have gotten close in a week. What, did crossing the line of life and death together give you some sense of comradeship? You’re even dropping the last name.”

“It’s just sad. I don’t know the reason, but he had to come down here all alone without any family.”

Manager Hong tsked at Yunhwan, who still hadn’t come to his senses despite being in that state. Although he had come for the luggage on Manager Park’s orders, there was one more thing he had to retrieve.

The contract he had found in the master bedroom closet while Yunhwan was packing was already tucked inside his jacket.

He didn’t know why Manager Park had demanded he bring this contract back, but it was likely an attempt to erase any record of Min Seonghye’s time in Sanghui-ri. The contents of the contract—signed and sealed directly without agents—were simple: keep Min Seonghye safely in Sanghui-ri for a certain period. At first glance, it was the kind of story that brought crime dramas to mind.

“Give it a rest, Yunhwan. Don’t go around pitying people so easily. I guarantee you, no one who knows Manager Park was born and raised in the sun. You’re done with this job now, so stop caring. I don’t know who Min Seonghye is either.”

“…….”

Faced with such a firm line, Yunhwan said no more. Manager Hong, who claimed the name Min Seonghye was all he knew, opened the driver’s side door with a final word of advice.

“I’m off. Keep the doors locked, and I hope your Aronia or whatever business hits the jackpot. …Wait, did you say that failed? Anyway, hang in there.”

He climbed into the car, pretending not to see Yunhwan’s shoulders slump at the mention of the Aronia. He felt overwhelmed thinking about navigating the winding mountain roads again, but he had no choice. If he didn’t leave now, he didn’t know what kind of hell would break loose from Seoul.

By the time Yunhwan’s figure waving behind the car window became a blur, Manager Hong put on his hands-free headset. After a few rings, a voice as scratchy as sandpaper answered.

“Yes, Manager.”

—The contract?

the other party got straight to the point. Manager Hong’s face soured.

“I got it, of course. That was the first thing I grabbed.”

—And you got all the luggage?

“Of course.”

His submissive answers followed without a gap. To deal with the already sensitive Manager Park, he had no choice but to lay low. Manager Hong rubbed his dry eyes and swallowed a sigh.

Then, the conversation shifted to an entirely unexpected topic.

—Right, let’s talk when you get up here. Oh, and another thing. You and Kwon Yunhwan. You used to work at the same company, didn’t you?

“…….”

—Don’t be so flustered.

Manager Hong blinked in a daze for a moment before quickly accepting the situation. After all, for a company like Seoil, tracking someone’s footsteps was child’s play. In the process of investigating Yunhwan’s background, they would have easily discovered they worked at the same place.

‘If I’d known this, I should have just been open about it with Yunhwan.’ Manager Hong, who had been pretending not to know Yunhwan in front of Manager Park, glanced at the rearview mirror. The junior who had been seeing him off was no longer visible; his car was the only one on the road.

—Don’t worry, I’ve known for a while. I didn’t say anything, so I guess you thought I really didn’t know.

He kept his mouth shut at the mocking tone.

—Anyway, drive safe.

“…Yes, understood.”

Manager Hong glanced at the shrinking orange slate roofs and pressed his lips together. When the call ended, silence returned to the car. Meanwhile, the scenery outside the window was monotonous and calm. The small country town was excessively quiet, the landscape still silent and deep.

‘Is that why you hid here?’ A low, heavy breath escaped him. Removing the hands-free set, Manager Hong thought of Yunhwan back there somewhere and let out a small click of his tongue.

The minor commotion that had occurred in the small village quickly settled into nothingness.

On the mountain at the entrance of the village, there was a particularly hollowed-out dent halfway up, but no one discovered it. The same went for the axe, hidden under leaves and mud.

Of the two who experienced that day’s turmoil, one chose to remain in Sanghui-ri. In a place where lush leaves and the sound of mountain winds could easily hide a single person.

Yunhwan once again concealed his presence from the world.

And the other person.

No news came from Seonghye after he went up to Seoul. Yunhwan concluded that while bitter, it was natural. He wondered if it was even right to expect updates from an acquaintance whose connection was as thin as a thread.

But the reason Yunhwan couldn’t easily forget Seonghye was the guilt and sense of debt that remained in a corner of his heart. Though he couldn’t judge for certain, the state Seonghye was in before they parted was far from normal.

‘Who are you, and why am I here?’

Did something go wrong with his memory? Even his personality seemed different from before.

“…No.”

Thinking deeply, Yunhwan shook his head and corrected his hypothesis. He wasn’t sure about the memory, but his personality didn’t seem that different.

‘…Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to crack Manager Park’s forehead.’

While Yunhwan was surmising Seonghye’s condition, a man stood next to him. It was Seong-pil, a resident of Sanghui-ri who frequently interacted with Yunhwan. However, unlike Yunhwan, he had a rather displeased look in his eyes for some reason.

A summer breeze passed between them several times.

“Hyung-nim.”

Looking at the waterlogged Aronia field spread out before them, Seong-pil spoke.

“Man… how are you supposed to make a living like this?”

“…….”

The other reason Yunhwan couldn’t leave Sanghui-ri: the typhoon that had struck without warning a few days ago. The sudden heavy rain and gusts had devastated Yunhwan’s field.

Sensing his question was too blunt, Seong-pil added.

“What are we gonna do about this? I thought only my peppers were dead, but your ‘kids’ have no hope either. None.”

“…….”

With his hands behind his back, he let out a tsk-tsk sound.

Yunhwan, who had been ruminating on the empty space Seonghye left behind, finally faced the reality before him. The ruined field entered his vision in stark detail.

“The typhoon this year was definitely stronger than last year. I wonder if I can even cover the cost of fertilizer with this.”

Yunhwan was a young farmer who had moved down to Sanghui-ri three years ago, but he was still not immune to the annual natural disasters. He hadn’t imagined that his farming would be overturned by a series of misfortunes over the last few years.

He wiped his forehead with the towel around his neck and looked to the side. There, Seong-pil was tsking at a sapling with exposed roots.

“I told you not to be so stubborn about doing Aronia.”

“…….”

In the past, when Yunhwan bought this field, the crop he chose was Aronia, which at the time was being spotlighted by every domestic cable channel every other day.

Back then, Aronia was in the limelight as a next-generation health food, and it was famous for being easier to cultivate than other varieties.

“No matter how good it is for you, Koreans don’t like it if it tastes bitter.”

Just as Seong-pil said, sadly, the future of Aronia was not bright. Perhaps because the market had been milked dry, new health foods like barley grass, mate tea, and ABC juice had appeared after Aronia.