Episode 2
Tae joo clenched his jaw and strode across the wooden corridor.
“To think I came here just to hear this nonsense.”
Coming here was clearly a mistake, and regret bubbled up inside him. Marriage? Ridiculous.
He had no intention of taking his grandfather’s words seriously—not about marriage, nor anything else in his life. The man had no right.
Stepping out of the main house and into the garden, Tae joo instinctively reached for his jacket pocket. He habitually pulled out a cigarette and lit it with his Zippo lighter, only for his eyes to catch sight of Yoon Seol approaching.
“You can smoke if you want,” she said, smiling shyly when their eyes met.
“…I missed you, teacher.”
One of Tae joo’s eyebrows lifted. The flame wavering at his fingertips vanished.
Grinding the cigarette’s filter between his teeth, Tae joo pressed a hand to the back of his neck. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him—perhaps from the long flight, or maybe from the absurd situation. Perhaps both. Either way, he just wanted to end this mess quickly and rest.
Looking at Seol’s innocent face, he felt a pang of guilt. This is pointless. She’s done nothing wrong.
“Yoon Seol.”
“Yes, teacher?”
“I told you to keep your wits about you, didn’t I?”
Seol nodded earnestly, her face pure and guileless.
“Good. As long as you remember that.”
Tae joo crushed the cigarette between his fingers.
“So ignore whatever nonsense the chairman says. Just because it’s from an elder doesn’t mean it’s worth listening to.”
“Teacher…”
Seol seemed like she wanted to say more, but Tae joo turned away, heading toward the parking lot—only to stop abruptly.
“Damn it.”
He remembered being practically dragged here straight from Incheon Airport. There was no way his car would be waiting at this cursed house.
Spotting Mr. Choi, the family’s ever-prepared chauffeur, Tae joo veered toward the main road instead. He’d flag down a taxi if he had to.
Walking down the sloping road, Tae joo finally gave in to his craving and pulled out another cigarette. But the sound of sneakers scuffing against asphalt followed him.
A quick glance at a roadside mirror revealed Seol trailing behind him. When he walked, she walked. When he stopped, so did she. She keeps her distance but follows like a stray puppy abandoned in the rain.
A strange heaviness pressed against his chest.
Slowing his pace, Tae joo turned sharply into a narrow alley. The hurried sound of footsteps quickened, and Seol dashed past without noticing him hiding behind a random gate.
Her brown hair shimmered as she looked around, likely searching for him.
Satisfied he’d lost her, Tae joo quietly began walking in the opposite direction. That was until—
“Hey, it’s a celebrity!”
“A celebrity? Where?”
The rough voices of middle-school boys stopped him.
“Can we get a picture with you?”
“Yeah! I’m gonna post it on Insta!”
Tae joo turned to see Seol surrounded by a group of boys, looking visibly flustered.
“Um, excuse me…”
Though he wanted to ignore the scene and walk away, his feet wouldn’t move.
“Damn it,” he muttered. She really knows how to make things complicated.
Tae joo walked over and placed a large hand over Seol’s face, pulling her toward him.
“Kids, you’ve got the wrong person.”
“But it’s her! Yoon Seol! The actress!”
“Yoon Seol? Who’s that?” Tae joo asked, his voice sharp. “And don’t you know taking pictures of someone without their permission is illegal?” He gestured at their phones with his chin.
“Go home and study. Now.”
“Geez, what a boomer. And why are you talking down to us?”
Tae joo stomped his foot firmly. The boys hesitated, intimidated by the towering man shielding Seol. Reluctantly, they began to back off.
Once they left, Tae joo realized Seol was still tucked against him, her soft cheek pressed into his palm. Her slender frame fit against him like it belonged there.
He released her quickly, feeling awkward. Her face was flushed red, likely from embarrassment.
“Why’d you follow me and cause this mess?” he scolded.
“I’m sorry…” Seol muttered, fidgeting nervously.
“Where’s your manager?” Tae joo asked, sighing when she didn’t answer. She must have snuck out again.
“Fine, go find Mr. Choi and ask him to take you home—”
“Teacher,” Seol interrupted, grabbing his sleeve. “I’m hungry.”
Her voice was desperate, her expression pleading.
“Eat at home…”
“But it’s been four years since we’ve seen each other! We could at least share a meal, right?”
Her frozen fingers tugged at his conscience.
[Teacher, will you teach me? I’ll work hard, I promise. I won’t bother you or cause trouble. I want to go to high school.]
The memory of her tearfully begging him four years ago surfaced unbidden.
“Fine,” he relented. “What do you want to eat?”
“Spicy rice cakes and fish cake skewers, right?”
The server slammed two bowls onto the plastic-covered table. Inside one, bright red tteokbokki ( tteokbokki is a popular Korean street food made of chewy rice cakes (tteok) cooked in a spicy and sweet red chili sauce steamed invitingly.
“This is what you wanted so badly? Rice cakes?” Tae joo asked skeptically.
“It’s the place we went to before,” Seol replied, beaming.
The small street-food joint hadn’t changed much in four years, save for the extra graffiti on the walls. It was empty except for them.
Seol eagerly dug into the tteokbokki, only to yelp, “Hot, hot!” as she waved her hand at her mouth.
Tae joo sighed and handed her a cup of water.
“I didn’t eat anything today…” she admitted sheepishly.
“Still skipping meals?” he asked, frowning.
“They don’t let me eat because of my weight. It just makes me want food more,” she mumbled, smiling weakly.
Tae joo watched her with narrowed eyes. She seemed thinner than he remembered.
His gaze drifted to the small TV above her, where an ad for an energy drink played. The same Seol, dressed in white and laughing against a blue ocean backdrop, smiled down at him.
The chairman’s voice echoed in his head. “She looks just like her grandmother.”
For someone who hated entertainers, the old man certainly doted on her.
But why? If he cherished her so much, then why…?
“Why are you staring at me?” Seol asked, breaking his thoughts.
“I wasn’t,” he replied.
“You were! Do I look different or something?”
Straightening her back, she looked at him with eager anticipation.
Tae joo’s eyes scanned her slowly. Has she gotten taller?
He recalled briefly holding her earlier. Four years ago, she barely reached his chest. Now, her gaze was closer to his. The baby fat on her cheeks had melted away, leaving a more mature face behind.
But she was still a kid—a 19-year-old at most.
“You’re wearing a school uniform,” he said flatly.
“Oh,” she blushed. “Does it suit me?”
“Sure.” Tae joo nodded indifferently. She was a student; of course, it did.
Even so, Seol lit up as though he’d paid her the highest compliment.
“So, you must’ve taken your college entrance exams,” Tae joo commented.
Her face stiffened immediately.
The absurdity of a girl fresh out of high school being pushed into marriage wasn’t lost on him.
“What did the chairman say to convince you to marry?” he asked with a bitter smile.
Instead of answering, Seol chugged her water like it was liquor and set the cup down firmly.
“Teacher,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. Her expression was serious, her tone unwavering.
“I told Grandfather I wanted this marriage.”
“…What?” Tae joo stared at her, dumbfounded.
“I told him because… I love you, teacher.”
With a face as red as a tomato, she declared,
“I love you.”
