The Pride of Gyechon Has No Heart
Several hours earlier, Ji-su—who had been thoroughly worn out under Jae-gyeom's loving hands until dawn—had fallen asleep almost the moment they left Seoul for Gyechon, sleeping a solid two hours straight. She only woke when they pulled into a rest stop midway, where they grabbed a quick bite from the snack stand, bought coffee, and got back on the road.
We've already come this far? Sorry I slept so much. You're not supposed to doze off in the passenger seat when someone else is driving.
If I kept you from sleeping too, after what I did to you last night, wouldn't that make me a pretty terrible guy?
At the words what I did last night, the whole of the previous night—from its very beginning to its end—drifted slowly through Ji-su's mind.
The entryway, the bathroom, the bed—every corner of that small house... Two weeks of tender longing exchanged only through texts and calls had dissolved the instant their skin touched and they breathed in each other's warmth, and all restraint had gone out the window. The heat of just a few hours ago was still so vivid that Ji-su couldn't manage a single word; her face burning as red as a bell pepper, she simply sipped at her coffee.
Jae-gyeom caught sight of her scarlet ears from the corner of his eye and tossed out a joke—Im Ji-su's having naughty thoughts again. Ji-su couldn't deny it.
With about an hour left until Gyechon, the two of them talked about the holidays they'd each spent over the years.
I didn't really know much about Korean holidays when I was little, but then Mom married her boyfriend in the States, and she got curious about Korean traditions, so we started making songpyeon and eating tteokguk together. It was actually really fun.
Jae-gyeom's past, naturally, fell into two parts: his childhood in America with his mother, and his high school years in Korea.
Ever since I came to Korea, I've spent every holiday alone.
Alone?
Not blending easily into my father's family was a given—and from their point of view, I suppose they thought they were being considerate. Born and raised in America, Korean holidays would be unfamiliar to me, so rather than force myself to show up and go through all the rituals uncomfortably, they'd tell me to just rest easy.
Ji-su asked nothing more. As an outsider, it was hard for her to judge right from wrong, but the whole thing sat uncomfortably in her chest. Had it really been consideration? And Jae-gyeom himself surely hadn't believed it was, either.
Her heart ached thinking of him spending every holiday alone since his mother passed. And if they arrived in Gyechon as they were, he would spend this five-day holiday alone all over again. That was why—without even consulting her mother first—she had blurted out her invitation.
Jae-gyeom, my dad died when I was in elementary school. It was hard on me, but it was so much worse for my mom. Even after she'd managed to get back on her feet, every time the memorial rites came around she'd sink into this gloom. Somewhere around when I started high school... we talked, just the two of us. We decided Dad wouldn't want us sitting around grieving. So from then on, we left his memorial rites to the temple, and the holidays became 'Oh Hye-sook and Im Ji-su's Recharge Time.'
Ji-su explained the rest briefly. Her mother cooked up a spread of holiday food to get into the spirit of things, but it wasn't for any ancestral table. On the morning of the holiday itself, she and her mom would head into downtown Gyeongju, and the very first stop was always the sauna. After that they'd wander the town, buy themselves good things to eat, stop by cafés and bookstores, and catch a movie if there was one they wanted to see.
Yoon Jae-gyeom. As a special favor, I'll let you join our mother-daughter recharge this time.
Sounds good. Rename it the 'Family Course, Son-in-Law Included' while you're at it.
The offhand mention of son-in-law re-heated the face that had only just cooled.
Wh-what son-in-law?
I'm coming to your house as your son-in-law, aren't I? I even brought back all the empty containers your mother filled with side dishes last time. And I bought presents, you know.
Since that first visit to her house, Ji-su hadn't told her mother anything about parting ways with the man she'd supposedly been seeing. She hadn't formally introduced Kim Young-baek to her in the first place—Jae-gyeom had only been impersonating Kim Young-baek at the time.
Granted, she was dating Jae-gyeom now, but she hadn't thought of it as leading directly to marriage. Even counting from the day they first joined bodies and words rather than the day they'd agreed to date, it was less than two months—a relationship still green on the vine. Jae-gyeom, however, saw things differently.
Like I mentioned before... my father and stepmother want me to wrap up my life in Gyechon and move up to Seoul, so I'll probably head up before winter. And when I do, I want to marry you right away and live together.
Khk—!
Jae-gyeom's sudden declaration of marriage went down the wrong pipe. The americano she'd been sipping felt like it was lodging itself in her throat.
Ji-su. Why are you so surprised? Were you seriously planning to play with me and throw me away?
What are you even saying!
Well, aren't you? Slept at my place the very first night and tried to run off. And look at you now—I said I want to be your mother's son-in-law, I said I want to marry you, and you haven't given me a single answer. Anyone would think that. Wow, so the famously generous-hearted Pride of Gyechon is planning to eat and dump me without a shred of generosity....
Eat and dump? Keep it down!
In the distance, a road sign came into view: Welcome to Gyechon, the Land of Generous Hearts. Ji-su quickly sorted through the tangle of her thoughts. She'd been ready to marry Kim Young-baek, after all—there was no reason she couldn't marry Yoon Jae-gyeom. If anything, this was a far better deal. So was there really any point in refusing?
Um, Jae-gyeom? Let's talk about marriage slowly, later. It's not that I don't want to—it's just too soon. And separate from the marriage thing, spend this holiday with us anyway. Mom already thinks you're son-in-law material, so... .
It wasn't a perfectly satisfying answer, but Jae-gyeom accepted it well enough. They were just agreeing that he'd drop Ji-su at home first and come back to pick up mother and daughter on the morning of Chuseok itself when he asked:
Since you're not holding the memorial rite for your father yourselves... that recharge time of yours—could we start it today?
Well, I suppose we could?
Every year, matching the holidays and the summer and winter vacation seasons, Jae-gyeom's stepmother sent hotel vouchers through the secretarial office for one of Daeyun Group's affiliates, the Gyeongju Daeyun Hotel. It was her roundabout way of telling him not to set foot anywhere near the main house in Pyeongchang-dong. And every one of those vouchers, Jae-gyeom had always used alone. Daeyun Hotels had properties all across the country, after all.
One of them sat right inside the Gyeongju tourist complex.
Ji-su, I have vouchers for the Gyeongju Daeyun Hotel. The sauna there is wonderful, and there are tons of tourist spots nearby—I think it'd be great for you and your mother. What if we all went together?
And so, just as Ji-su, her mother, and Jae-gyeom checked into the Daeyun Hotel in the Gyeongju tourist complex and set out to enjoy the first day of their hotel-stay getaway, Kim Young-baek stepped off the train at Gyechon Station.
He had called Ji-su countless times, but she'd blocked his number long ago; not a single call got through, and he was left stamping his feet in frustration.
"Ugh, this is so annoying! Why won't she pick up! Ha... Should I just take a taxi and head back to Seoul right now? Mom's been going on and on about how I have to win Im Ji-su back—what am I supposed to do?"
Time kept slipping by, and with every inn in the Gyechon town center already booked solid, Young-baek found himself with no choice but to spend the night camping out in the waiting room of Gyechon Station.
Meanwhile, in Seoul, a report from her executive secretary arrived on the phone of Jae-gyeom's stepmother, Madam Jin Song-hwa.
It was a report that arrived every holiday without fail, and Madam Jin had been about to dismiss it as routine—until her expression took on an eerie gleam upon reading the next message.
"Company?"
With a perfectly steady hand, Madam Jin sent back a reply: Report all identifiable information on the accompanying party. Within seconds, the answer came straight back.
Beneath the message was a still frame from the hotel lobby's CCTV. As she stared at the photo—Jae-gyeom holding a young woman's hand—the corners of Madam Jin's eyes narrowed into slits, thin as a serpent's.
"Well, well... so the boy fancies himself in love. How delightful. Once I tear that romance apart too, it'll be all the more satisfying."
Something about it promised to make this Chuseok holiday genuinely enjoyable, and Madam Jin caught herself laughing, even humming a little tune under her breath.