Chapter 2: Unkku Han Seim
Seim boarded the village bus heading to the town. To spend three months at her vacant aunt’s house, she needed to buy basic necessities.
Electricity and water had been arranged by her aunt, so everything else was her responsibility. Even if it meant enduring the disaster of going into town, she had to handle it herself.
When she got off the bus, Seim clenched her empty fists tightly.
This place, lined with street stalls along the roadside, was the town.
She noticed a few children in school uniforms. She could almost guess where their steps were headed. Having spent her own school days on Manguldo, she knew what a town like this—anchored by mainland franchises—meant to kids.
She had once had such a time herself. On happy days, she would naturally stop by the town.
Unkku.
That’s what everyone had called her back then. At least, until she reached a certain age.
When she was a single-digit child, she had thought it was just a nickname.
“Unkku, you’re here? These grapes are super sweet! Let’s get some for Dad.”
She would cling to her father’s leg, pleading for grapes she didn’t even eat because she hated removing the seeds. Only during adolescence did she understand the meaning behind it—and feel embarrassed.
“Oh, our Unkku. You’re getting prettier by the day. A real young lady now.”
She would hastily lower her head and step aside, too busy to process the blush of shame that came even with rising anger.
There had been a decisive incident that ended her being called Unkku. It happened that day when she happened to meet Gu Seonju in the town market.
“Oh, Han Unkku? Why are you in town at this hour? Skipping night study? Oh, look at the goody-two-shoes.”
Classmates linked arm-in-arm with Gu Seonju’s group flashed gleaming, curious eyes.
“Han Unkku? What does ‘Unkku’ even mean?”
“She was born between a crooked-eyed boy and a one-eyed girl—Unkku. Han Unkku.”
“Ah, that’s freaking hilarious. Why didn’t anyone tell me this before?”
Usually, she brushed off such remarks with composure, but that day, she couldn’t.
She ended up striking his cheek hard, again and again, as he looked up at her from the ground.
Looking back, she had been fearless—daring to confront the only child of a wealthy family owning multiple market stores. That child, born between a crooked-eyed boy and a one-eyed girl, who was literally called Unkku Han Seim.
No regrets. The ridicule directed at her vanished that day. There were the long, embarrassing stories of her father having to kneel before that household, but she preferred not to dwell on them.
Anyway, the town had always been a dreadful place for her.
As she stepped into the market, the sharp smell of fish invaded her nose. She considered buying a few fish but decided against it. With her aunt already ordering melons, her hands would be full enough.
Turning from the fish corner, she spotted the large supermarket occupying a wide space. She picked up a shopping basket with familiarity, placing shampoo, conditioner, and body wash inside, one by one.
Her basket now considerably heavier, she headed to the cashier. Yeongran, who had been engrossed in a drama, began scanning the items. Seim had hoped to pass quietly, but of course, Yeongran recognized her.
“Oh my, isn’t this Seim? Long time no see! I already heard you were back. You can quit teaching and do something else instead.”
Seim offered a faint smile and carefully placed the items into plastic bags.
“How much?”
Beep. The last barcode scanned, and a warm, familiar voice chimed.
“It’s forty thousand won, but I’ll be generous! Thirty-five thousand for you.”
“No, that’s fine.”
She laid down four ten-thousand-won bills and hung the white bag over her wrist. It was time to leave.
Yet she paused and added something, feeling she had to correct one point.
“And I’ll be going back to Seoul.”
“…Oh, really?”
“I’m just here for a short break.”
“Of course, you need to go back. You’re taking the teacher’s exam again in Seoul, right? Gotta stick close and be filial to your father.”
“I’ll see about it.”
“Take care. Tell Han to come out to town sometime. It’s been too long since we last saw him.”
“Yes.”
Walking down the supermarket’s sloping exit, Seim forced a bitter smile. It was absurd to hear such words. Who were the people that had pushed her father to the top? And now they were telling her to come out to town.
The very people who had caused her so much shame weren’t the ones to say this.
Her nerves were already fraying. She wanted to buy the melons and leave as quickly as possible. Visiting a fruit shop in the meantime was exhausting.
Avoiding Gu Seonju’s fruit store, she wandered to a reasonably distant stall.
It was melon season, and baskets at the stand were piled high. As she examined the fruits, voices drifted from inside the store.
“Such a handsome figure, really looks like Chairman Cha, doesn’t he? And so tall. That bloodline shows.”
She instantly recognized they were talking about Cha Taemok. Hastily, she picked a basket, ready to call the shopkeeper.
“Maybe we should invite Seonju in for a bit. They’re the same age, well-educated, both live in Seoul. A match made in heaven.”
Her heart sank. Of all places, Gu Seonju’s mother was here. It was infuriating.
“Ah, don’t joke about that. That family’s rich. You can’t just say things like that, even as a joke.”
Seim silently turned and walked away. Fruit shops were everywhere; she could go to another.
Yet as she completed a half-circle, a familiar face caught her eye, and she froze again.
“….”
Unlike earlier in his suit, he now wore only a shirt, looking more casual. His waxed hair was looser than before.
There was something unsettling, a resemblance to someone else in that figure. She felt discomfort. It would have been better to maintain the distance she once felt.
Soon, his worn sneakers and polished leather shoes met at the store entrance.
Voices from inside continued spilling out.
“So what if he’s from a chaebol family? Our Seonju can handle it. And the chairman’s grandson has a surprisingly gentle side. He’s been hanging out in town with Seim since they were young.”
“That might just be because it’s Seim. Was she really that pretty as a child?”
“But now? Our Seonju is just as polished! And then they compare them? How dare they compare our child… raised under weak parents.”
Her eyelids twitched from the sudden blow. Still, Cha Taemok’s gaze didn’t waver. If anything, he slowly traced her from forehead down with an insistence, clearly oblivious to the conversation.
Had he heard those words, his impatient temperament would never have let him remain calm. Or maybe… now that he was a stranger, he didn’t care. The thought made her throat tighten.
“Seriously! How can people even say that these days!”
“Oh, don’t get mad. We’re just talking among ourselves. She’s been somewhat gloomy since childhood, aloof. But our Seonju is bright…”
Unable to listen any longer, Seim placed some bills on the counter. Her hands roughly stuffed the purchased melons into black plastic bags.
Why she went to such lengths, she wasn’t sure. Maybe she wanted to prove to Cha Taemok that she was unaffected.
Gripping the bags in both hands, she continued walking calmly.
She passed him lightly, turning her back completely.
“…!”
Suddenly, one of her melon bags was taken.
In the blink of an eye, the melon in her hand had shifted into his.
“What are you doing…?”
It was absurd.
“Give it.”
Cha Taemok glanced back over his broad shoulder.
“If I give it, you’ll run off. Why would I do that?”
He chuckled and continued leisurely. As if to show off, he held the bag with his fingers behind his back.
Seim’s stomach turned at the dangling bag from his finger. She quickly reached to snatch it back.
“…!”
Her hand was swallowed instantly. Trapped in his thick grip, it couldn’t move.
“Let go.”
She panicked that someone might see this. Her chest tightened with anxiety. Lowering her voice, she demanded,
“Let go of it.”
Surprisingly, he released it. Cha Taemok’s relaxed expression remained as he turned slightly away.
“Give me a melon too.”
Ignoring her, he calmly opened the bag and took out a melon. Though large, it seemed small in his hand. Then, to her disbelief, he bit into it whole with the skin.
“You…!”
He remained unfazed, chewing slowly with a smug smile.
“The pesticide’s strong as hell.”
