MWM Chapter 4
by HoshiumiDrawn as if enchanted by the man, Soyi sat on the bench, her gaze wandering aimlessly.
She lifted her head toward the pale clouds, watched the boy kicking the ball he’d brought, and then wondered, ‘Why am I sitting here?’
“Wipe your face.”
Her restless eyes slowly settled on the man’s hand. A neatly folded handkerchief was now in her grasp.
Nodding toward her damp hand, he continued.
“Don’t wipe your tears or snot with your hand—use that. Don’t bother giving it back.”
Soyi stared at the handkerchief for a long moment. Its soft texture curled around her fingers.
His words, urging her to wipe her tears, weighed heavily on her chest. They asked a question: “Why was I sitting on the ground, sobbing?”
Was it the overwhelming despair of reality, the urge to pour her heart out to anyone who’d listen, or a need to lean on someone?
Without realizing it, Soyi opened her mouth.
“There’s no one as pitiful as my mom. She worked her whole life until she died.”
“…”
“Is there a life more unjust than that?”
“…”
“Mom said Seonamjae was the best. Compared to the warzone outside, this place was paradise—there was nowhere better. That’s why she wanted to keep working here.”
As she spilled her heart without restraint, the image of her mother—always toiling like an ant, every day looking exhausting—flashed by in slow motion.
“But I overheard the staff talking. They said I’d end up like her. That I’m good at cleaning and cooking, just like Mom. They meant I’d spend my life working, like she did. I don’t want that. I’d rather die than live like that.”
“…”
“To work my whole life like Mom and then just leave? That’s too much. I’d rather die.”
Instead of saying she was tired or sad, Soyi rambled about something absurd.
Once her mouth opened, she couldn’t stop. She even threw extreme words at the man. He could’ve sighed in disbelief, but his response caught her off guard.
“How would you die?”
His expression, listening as if he might help, was strikingly serious.
“…What?”
“Would you drown in the sea? Jump off a cliff?”
His tone was genuinely curious. Soyi frowned, a mix of confusion and irritation. Scanning her face, he gave a flat smile.
“You’re not going to die.”
His presumptuous certainty, as if he’d peered into her soul, felt downright insolent.
“…How would you know? You don’t even know me, so don’t act like you do.”
“Why die? Just leave this place.”
His calm retort left Soyi speechless.
A brief silence hung in the air. Then, looking straight ahead, he stood from the bench.
Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment.
“You said you don’t want to work here until you die, like your mom.”
“…”
“Leave. Then you won’t have to die.”
“…”
“So let’s never see each other again.”
His indifferent words, as if she weren’t worth a response, kept rattling in her head.
Without a goodbye, he started walking, raising his voice toward the boy kicking the soccer ball.
“Kong Jigu, let’s go.”
The boy, flailing at the ball, and the man’s conversation grew loud, then faded as they moved away.
“Uncle, let’s play soccer a bit more! You were talking to that Nuna1 and didn’t play with me. Play with me now!”
“Later.”
“When later? Even if you don’t want to, play now! Life doesn’t always go how you want!”
“I told you not to mimic adults.”
That’s when she learned.
The seven-year-old boy she’d just met had lost his parents in an accident around the same time as Soyi and was now living at Seonamjae for that reason.
The man beside him was his uncle. In other words, Park Sunok’s grandson.
His name was Kong Jinha. Twenty years old.
“Kong Jinha. Kong Jinha.”
After hearing his name from a staff auntie, Soyi sometimes whispered it like a breath.
Reflecting on it, she realized their meeting wasn’t their first. In the past, during Park Sunok’s birthdays or anniversaries, family and relatives would gather for celebrations. The man had appeared at those events from time to time. The unfamiliar boy, introduced as his nephew, was also becoming familiar.
Those who had once passed by like blurry figures from another world now came into sharp focus.
“Kong Jinha.”
Calling his name brought his words back, hooked on a loop.
“Leave.”
Those words snapped her awake. Only then did she think about leaving Seonamjae.
The questions about why she had to live here, her rejection of a life like her mother’s, the desire to escape—it all stemmed from a collision of those impulses.
“Let’s never see each other again.”
‘I’ll leave.’ Soyi made her decision.
From then on, her reason for preparing for the future shifted. To leave Seonamjae and live as Baek Soyi. Thinking of the day she’d depart, enduring life at Seonamjae no longer felt powerless.
One day, as she let time flow like this—
She saw Haena visiting Seonamjae. Soyi’s gaze, fixed on her, soon shifted to one person.
That man.
Kong Jinha.
Haena, waving enthusiastically, approached him and smiled.
A genuine smile she’d never shown Soyi.
At that moment, Soyi realized.
Studying and working—those alone wouldn’t bring Haena down.
But it wasn’t hopeless.
The one way to shatter Haena’s smile stood right before her.
***
Eight years had passed since she lost her mother.
Graduating middle and high school, entering a prestigious university with top grades, and earning scholarships, Soyi still remained at Seonamjae.
At that time, Seonamjae had gained one more family member: Kong Jigu.
“This is wrong. This too. Do it again.”
At a desk strewn with open books, a red pen slashed lines across Jigu’s painstakingly solved problems. Feeling as if he’d been whipped, Jigu finally leaped from his chair.
“This is weird! I got it right, and you’re saying it’s wrong!”
“No tricks. Sit down and solve it.”
“I can’t!”
Soyi looked at the boy’s acne-covered face with exasperation. His teenage rebellion, quiet for a while, was rearing up again.
At Sunok’s request, Soyi had been tutoring the rambunctious Jigu for over three months. Her strict guidance and Sunok’s tactic of withholding his allowance worked effectively. But how long had he been compliant before his patience ran out again?
“If you keep acting like this, I’m reporting you to Hwejangnim. Your card will be confiscated immediately.”
Despite her attempt to curb him, Jigu held his ground with unusual bravado today.
“Go ahead! I’ve got backup now!”
As if he had a solid ally, Jigu brandished his phone.
“Uncle’s coming soon. And when he does, Baek Soyi’s done for.”
Mimicking a throat-slashing gesture, the boy grinned wickedly.
Normally, Soyi would’ve brushed off his antics, but now she couldn’t respond. Her thoughts zeroed in on one person.
Kong Jinha.
Kong Jinha was coming.
The man who’d gone to America, appearing only briefly during summer vacations, was too elusive to even speak to.
He was coming to Seonamjae.
The last time she saw him was last summer. Haena’s radiant face, greeting Jinha in Korea, flashed in her mind.
Would he only stay briefly this year too? But it wasn’t even vacation season.
“Is your uncle coming for a vacation?”
Unable to hold back, Soyi asked. Thinking she’d taken the bait, Jigu laughed loudly.
“Nope, he’s moving back to Korea for good. And he’s going to live here. You know what that means? Baek Soyi’s in big trouble. You’re gonna pay for looking down on me and bossing me around. Just wait.”
Jigu pointed his index finger out the window.
‘There.’
Vrrr! The sound of a drill echoed from afar, hitting her ears repeatedly. The three-story annex had been under renovation for weeks. Only now did she realize it was for Jinha’s stay.
‘But why is he coming here…?’
“Why’s he moving back to Korea for good?”
Jigu, who’d been stuffing his books into his bag, stopped whistling. His giggling face soured with discontent as he glared at Soyi.
“You know that fake, prissy ajumma?”
One of the expected answers followed his pointed term.
“He’s marrying her. Halmeoni said so. Tch!”
***
On a sun-drenched afternoon, thinly sliced pickled radish collapsed on the cutting board.
The mechanical chopping lost its rhythm at some point.
“You’re here!”
A welcoming voice pierced her eardrum, and Soyi turned her head. From one spot, a chorus of voices greeting someone mingled and flowed.
Wiping her wet hands, Soyi slowly took a step.
One step, two steps—the closer she moved, the clearer one figure became.
The man, receiving the family’s greetings, was still tall, still striking. His haughty, impenetrable face was still handsome.
His head tilted up, then paused.
Their eyes met.
‘Welcome.’
Soyi replaced the greeting she held inside with a silent bow.
Eight years later, on an unusually hot autumn day.
Soyi faced Kong Jinha again.