CHAPTER~02
Coming and Going
Yoon Yeongwon woke up at her usual time—half past four in the morning.
She washed her face lightly, tied her hair up, and stepped outside with practiced ease.
Her family home in Mayeong-ri was a single-story country house with a wooden deck in the yard and two blueberry trees growing beside it.
Yeongwon swept the fallen leaves from the yard, checked the trees, stretched out her stiff body, and sat for a brief moment on the deck.
Soon, the sounds of footsteps drifted from beyond the gate—villagers heading to the fields, chatting as they walked.
Yesterday she’d joined them to pick cucumbers. The day before that, she’d planted onion and carrot seeds for the fall harvest.
Today was the day she rode the truck into town to help her father, Ho-gyun, at his noodle shop.
Once he returned from his morning walk, they would knead the flour, season the vegetables, and load the truck.
All of that had become routine now.
By the time she cut the hand-kneaded noodles, simmered broth in deep bowls, wiped down tables, and handled payments, the day would already be gone.
And Yeongwon didn’t mind that kind of continuity.
When today passed, tomorrow’s work would come; when tomorrow passed, the next day’s work would follow.
That mindless rhythm of movement—without thought, without ambition—was something she desperately needed.
She had been far away from such days for too many years.
In Seoul, Yeongwon had clung endlessly to things that wouldn’t work, again and again.
She had to keep holding on until they did.
Even when she needed to sleep, she couldn’t.
But despite all that, nothing ever turned out right.
She couldn’t spend even a single day in peace.
Here in Mayeong-ri, she didn’t have to live like that.
That was why she’d returned home a year ago.
“Awake already?”
Her father, Ho-gyun, came in through the gate after his walk. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the towel around his neck and sat beside her. A faint scent of grass clung to him.
“Dad, go wash up. I’ll get ready to go.”
Yeongwon urged him gently. He caught his breath before replying.
“Let me rest a little first.”
“Why are you so tired today? How far did you walk?”
“To the shop.”
“You walked all the way to the shop?”
Ho-gyun nodded briefly and glanced sideways at her.
“I have something to tell you.”
“What’s with the serious tone?”
“I’m going to take a break.”
Yeongwon fell silent.
It was the same thing she had said to him when she’d packed up her life in Seoul and come home.
“I started that restaurant the year your brother, Sewon, was born,” he continued.
Sewon was Yeongwon’s third eldest brother.
“So that’s thirty-three years in that kitchen.”
“…”
“That’s why I’ve decided to take a sabbatical.”
“A sabbatical?”
“Yeah. I’m leaving today.”
From his cheerful tone, Yeongwon could tell he’d been planning this for a long time—and today, he’d simply decided to act on it.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“That’s a secret, sweetheart.”
Ho-gyun rose to his feet with a smile. His eyes were bright and sharply outlined, and Yeongwon had inherited that exact gaze.
But she knew she hadn’t inherited his unwavering nature.
She looked down without meaning to.
He went on to say that he’d already decided to close the restaurant for the summer and had posted a sign about his vacation trip.
“Do your brothers know?”
“They know. I told them to keep an eye on you.”
For a moment, Yeongwon wondered if he had delayed this long-awaited break because she’d come back home.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, she pulled out her phone.
“Let me at least send you some money.”
“What money? You’ve been working here for free.”
“You’ve been feeding and housing me. That’s not free.”
“Forget it. Students don’t have money.”
“I’m not a student. You can’t call someone who dropped out of a PhD program a student.”
Laughing, Ho-gyun reached over and tousled her hair.
“You’ll always be a student to me, kiddo. My little girl. Just take care of the house, and rest well.”
“…Okay, Dad. Have a good trip. I’ll keep everything safe.”
After a simple breakfast, they packed his things. Most of his luggage consisted of hiking gear.
Yeongwon remembered him once saying he wanted to climb the Hundred Great Mountains someday.
The thought of her father, who’d spent his life sweating in a cramped kitchen, now standing at a mountaintop with open skies all around, filled her with a strange happiness.
But around noon, his phone rang.
The call lasted barely ten minutes.
After hanging up, Ho-gyun began to unpack the luggage he’d just finished organizing.
“What’s going on? Why are you unpacking?” Yeongwon asked.
“I just got a call from Wooheon Villa.”
Wooheon Villa.
The Wooheon Group’s countryside estate, located at the entrance of Mayeong-ri.
It was the same place where Ho-gyun had worked before Yeongwon was born, and even after opening his restaurant, he sometimes went there to help.
“That boy, Hwido, caused some trouble again,” he said with a sigh. “The chairman wants me to teach him a lesson.”
He chuckled as if it couldn’t be helped, but Yeongwon didn’t smile.
His restaurant was in town—a good hour and a half’s walk away from the village.
She could imagine how carefully he’d walked there earlier to hang the vacation notice on the door.
And now, with a single phone call, all that effort was about to be undone.
She couldn’t just stand by and watch.
“Dad,” she said firmly. “I’ll go.”
“What?”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure Kim Hwido gets a proper lesson. You go on your vacation.”
Yeongwon was determined to give her father the break he deserved.
When she stepped outside the gate, a sleek black sedan stood waiting—completely out of place in the quiet countryside.
It took about an hour and a half to drive from Seoul to Mayeong-ri with no traffic.
Her father had gotten the chairman’s call only three or four hours ago.
So that meant Chairman Jang hadn’t even bothered to ask about her father’s situation before sending Kim Hwido here on a whim.
Just like he had ten years ago.
A spark of anger rose in Yeongwon’s chest.
Ten years had passed, and still, Kim Hwido was getting into trouble—and still, it was her family who had to deal with him.
Her steps quickened toward the parked car. As she approached, the door opened as if on cue.
And there he was—unmistakably Kim Hwido.
Taller than she remembered—by a good head and a half. Pale skin, black hair, thick brows, a refined nose, and full lips. His long eyes gleamed under the fading light.
The only thing that had changed was the air of maturity about him, yet even that felt like a kind of threat.
Maybe it’s that deeper voice, she thought as he said her name.
“Yoon Yeongwon.”
Hwido’s gaze swept over her just as hers searched his face, both quietly measuring what ten years had done.
She was still infuriatingly beautiful.
Her family, for some genetic reason, all had light hair and golden eyes—almost northern European in hue. Her neck was long, her hair tied high, and a small mole dotted her collarbone.
Hwido caught himself staring.
What the hell am I thinking?
A mole isn’t elegant. Why am I even noticing that?
He ran a hand through his hair, turning toward the car to wave off his driver.
“See you in the fall, sir!” shouted Secretary Park with exaggerated cheer.
Hwido sighed. In the fall, he says. That idiot doesn’t even know he’s leaving me to roast here all summer.
Once the car pulled away, he glanced back at Yeongwon.
“Where’s your father?”
“Come inside first.”
She turned toward the house without looking back. Hwido shoved his hands into his pockets and followed.
The sun was sinking low, dyeing the sky crimson. Hwido’s eyes lingered on the little house bathed in that glow—the faded blue roof, the old porch, even the drifting mayflies in the light.
Everything was exactly the same as it had been ten years ago.
“Come in,” Yeongwon called when she noticed him hesitating at the doorway, scowling at the bugs.
Feeling oddly self-conscious, he stepped inside.
The interior hadn’t changed either—the cherry-colored moldings, yellow vinyl floor, turquoise sink—so dated it almost hurt to look at.
“Still the same,” he muttered. “Amazing.”
Yeongwon let out a breath of a laugh.
“And you’re still the same—showing up alone, just like back then.”
Hwido arched a brow at her tone.
She doesn’t know anything, he thought. Nothing about the hotel division, about how my results were devalued, or why.
And honestly, he didn’t feel like explaining.
Then again—wasn’t she the one who went to some elite university?
Wait. That reminded him—why was Yoon Yeongwon here, in this tiny village, instead of Seoul?
“So why are you here instead of your dad?”
“He’s gone on vacation. He won’t be back for a few months.”
“Vacation? Since when do small business owners get vacations—”
He stopped mid-sentence, blinking.
“Wait. Don’t you have, like, three brothers?”
Yeongwon was the youngest of four—her brothers all born a year apart, the youngest of them, Sewon, now thirty-two.
“They’ve all moved out,” she said.
“…Hold on,” Hwido muttered, his expression slackening. “So it’s just you and me here?”
