Chapter 29.1

Chapter 29.1

It made sense. As usual, Min-gyu had been attentive to her, yet his gaze seemed heavier than normal, sunken with thought. His responses came slower, as though his mind was somewhere else.

The man who would typically initiate conversation after the conversation had grown unusually quiet after mentioning the flower viewing. Their exchange stalled, punctuated by awkward silences.

In contrast, Yeon-ha found herself wanting to ask Min-gyu a million things today, of all days. But she decided against it, thinking it would feel out of place, and focused on finishing her meal in silence. Eventually, the prolonged quiet became unbearable, and she broke it first.

“Is work wearing you out? You leave so early every day.”

The question, after much hesitation, seemed to catch him off guard. His hand, which had been reaching for his glass, froze midair. His lips twitched into a sheepish grin, as if amused.

“Well… jobs that take a toll on the body are always like that. But, you know, I do it because I have to earn money.”

“……”

“I can’t leave right away, but once I save enough, I’m getting out of here.”

“Where will you go?”

When he spoke of leaving, Yeon-ha assumed he meant moving to a different neighborhood. His reply, however, shattered that expectation entirely.

“I’m leaving Korea. I want to live somewhere with wide-open land, working as a carpenter.”

“…Seriously?”

“Yeah. It won’t be easy—that much I’ve figured out—but it’s not impossible either.”

As he flicked at the rim of the empty soju bottle with his finger, he clicked his tongue. He must’ve thought she’d noticed his pace, having already gone through two bottles of beer and one of soju. She had been planning to say something if he went back to the fridge, but instead, he continued speaking. His face, as composed as ever, showed no trace of inebriation.

“Anyway, money’s the most important thing. As long as I can work, I’ll save up as much as possible.”

At his resolute statement, Yeon-ha nodded instinctively. He reacted immediately.

“What about you? You think so too?”

“…Yeah.”

“Money’s the most important thing, huh?”

“It is.”

This time, her reply carried more conviction. For a moment, Min-gyu’s expression faltered slightly, though she didn’t notice. Overcome by a sudden surge of emotion, she began to speak her mind, uncharacteristically scattered and unfiltered.

“Well, of course, money doesn’t solve everything. There are plenty of other important values in life. But… money is undeniably important. It never hurts to have more, right? In the end, having money always seems to solve things. I’m going to earn a lot someday.”

And when I do, I’ll make sure to repay you—every last bit.

Yeon-ha pressed her lips together, unable to voice the final thought. Though her response to his casual remark might have sounded overly serious, she meant every word. How many times had she faced moments when money was painfully scarce?

“Looks like we’ve got the same values,” Min-gyu remarked, chuckling openly, oblivious to the weight her heart carried. He joked that his goal was to earn lots of money too, finding it amusing that they shared at least this one similarity.

“Guess I’ll have to make sure I earn more than you, Hwang Yeon-ha.”

“…Why?”

“Why else? So that I can—”

He abruptly cut himself off, the edges of his lips twisting into a bitter smile. Then, as if dismissing his unfinished thought, he changed the subject. “Man, it’s no fun drinking alone.”

It wasn’t a particularly remarkable conversation, yet as Yeon-ha watched him sit there, idly toying with the empty bottle, a faint pang of pity stirred in her chest. He looked so composed, almost as if he had no worries, but she knew better.

Whatever her own struggles, Min-gyu’s life likely held countless untold stories. At least she had college to look forward to—albeit only because of his out-of-the-ordinary generosity with her tuition.

She didn’t know much about carpentry, but she understood it wasn’t an easy job. Seeing someone her age working hard at such grueling tasks every day, without hobbies or distractions, was both impressive and heartbreaking. Not that she looked down on his dream—far from it.

But today, for reasons she couldn’t explain, Min-gyu seemed burdened in a way that made her heart ache for him. Was that just cheap sympathy?

Why am I acting like this? Seriously.

Maybe it was the rain, making her unreasonably sentimental. Silently scolding herself, she quickly steered her thoughts away, unwilling to let emotions complicate things. She didn’t want to assign a different name to their relationship—didn’t want to waste energy on emotions she couldn’t afford. When a faint ache brushed against the corners of her heart, she instinctively pushed it away and changed the topic.

“You’re so good to me that I end up feeling guilty sometimes,” she said quietly.

“Guilty?”

He frowned, and she nodded earnestly.

“To be honest… at first, I didn’t fully trust you. I mean, I came down here feeling pretty defeated, and when you offered to take care of me until my ankle healed, no strings attached, it sounded too good to be true.”

She could feel his gaze on her as she spoke, but her eyes stayed fixed on the empty glass in front of her.

“Even if all you did was help me get to the hospital, I would’ve been incredibly grateful. But you went above and beyond. Honestly, if it weren’t for you, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I know you hate hearing stuff like this, but you covered my rent, my tuition—you’ve been so understanding about everything. And that’s not even counting all the other ways you’ve looked out for me…”

Her voice trailed off as embarrassment crept in. Still, none of it was untrue. Even yesterday, after everything that happened, he’d cheerfully suggested they go flower viewing and set a date without hesitation. In the end, Min-gyu was a kind person through and through.

“What exactly have I done for you?”

“…Huh?”

Something about his tone—suddenly colder—made her look up in surprise. His face was unreadable, devoid of any clear emotion.