A Surprise in Cheongunpo

"Whoa."

The breath slipped out of me before I could stop it.

The messages she'd sent were packed with blogs, sites, and videos covering everything around Cheongunpo in Changhae-gun—places to see, things to do, food to eat. What made me laugh was that among the restaurants ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she'd picked were my mother's bunsik shop and Sangjun's family raw-fish restaurant.

Well, searching for Cheongunpo would turn those up.

"This looks like more than two nights and three days could cover."

I snorted and made a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠helpless face.

Even if we finished the family gathering and raced straight to Cheongunpo, we'd still arrive around five in the afternoon. What was she thinking, loading up this much…

Wait. Was she planning an overnight stay? Just the two of us?

The image of her from the set a few days ago—soaked through—flashed into my mind and slid, without permission, into a picture of the two of us lying in the same bed. It was so vivid my face went hot.

Having a memory this good is a problem in its own right…

I shook my head hard and tried to think of something else.

The three-hour trip home was not going to pass easily.

After arriving in Changhae-gun, before catching the bus into Cheongunpo, I looked for a real estate office nearby.

I wanted to stop at one in town and get a general sense of how the price ranges were structured.

Being outside Seoul, building prices overall were lower.

Three-story buildings in other areas mostly traded around the eight-hundred-million-won mark, while Cheongunpo properties were sitting in the nine-to-one-billion range.

Coastal premium, pure and simple.

I kept the conversation light, flattering him just enough, and managed to pull out some genuinely useful information.

The market had been soft lately, and listings for Cheongunpo buildings were stacking up steadily.

Prices holding, inventory rising…

If buyer demand was cooling, prices could stall for a stretch—or a fire-sale listing might surface. Worth watching for an opening.

If I time the entry right…

Real estate in a tourist destination rarely stays depressed for long. There's a mean that reasserts itself.

Cheongunpo's standing as a destination was clear, and demand from retirees looking for country homes stayed steady. More than anything, I had an emotional stake here. Hometown was a force you couldn't dismiss.

I rose quietly and headed for the local bus stop.

The route into Cheongunpo only ran a few times a day. Miss the timing and you waited a long while.

While I waited, staring blankly at the cars going by, a thought surfaced.

Maybe it's time I got a car…

Every time I came back to this inconvenient hometown, the idea returned. Especially when I was out on foot like this, the need for my own vehicle hit hard.

Until now, once I left the capital region, I'd scraped by on taxis and public transit—but it wasted time and was a genuine hassle.

And the situation was different now.

I had money.

Besides, I couldn't keep riding in Bitna's car forever. Setting practicality and economics aside, this was a matter of a man's pride.

Right. When I get back, I'll buy one.

There was parking at the house, so I wouldn't have to worry about that.

Just then the bus rolled slowly into the stop.

I climbed aboard the local bus as it rumbled to a halt and pulled out my phone, starting to search the latest new models.

I really have made money, haven't I.

Aside from the house, I'd mostly earned and barely spent, so the thought hit me fresh.

Time to start living a little.

The hometown scenery sliding past the window looked somehow different.

Or had I changed?

By the time I reached Cheongunpo, it was past one in the afternoon.

After the message saying she'd met her family, Bitna had gone quiet.

I tugged down the cap I'd brought and started walking a full circuit of Cheongunpo. Being the weekend, there were a fair number of tourists. Not as many as in the old days, but livelier than most places.

Just as the realtor had said, "For Lease" banners hung here and there. Not glaringly obvious, but once you looked for them, they showed up often enough.

I stopped at the office I'd contacted ahead of time.

It wasn't run by a local—an outsider had opened it a few years back.

Naturally he didn't recognize me. We headed out together to look at the places I'd already shortlisted.

Riding around in the agent's car, I confirmed what I already knew: the feel on the ground was nothing like what you got from a call or an online listing.

The more properties I walked through, the more certain I became that this was not the moment to buy.

Facades looked decent enough, but alleys behind them reeked, parking was absurdly short, or the interiors were a mess despite the exterior. More than anything, my eye caught the heavy hand of cosmetic cover-ups—paint slapped over mold stains, illegal expansions to stretch the floor space.

The agent nodded, looking flustered.

"Wow, you really know what you're looking at. Most people miss this stuff completely."

"I'm just the picky type."

I smiled and brushed it off.

If I'd told him the truth, he would have stared at me strangely.

I'd been analyzing everything—interior and exterior structure, the angle of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cracks in the outer walls, tenant foot traffic, nearby pedestrian patterns—so of course I was thorough.

A few listings looked passable, but none of them gave me a reason to buy right now.

Prices were awkward, locations ambiguous.

"If anything good comes up, please call me. I'm not in a rush."

I thanked the agent and left it there.

Then I headed straight for the water. Coming out from between the buildings into the open, the sea wind hit clean and sharp.

I adjusted my cap and walked slowly.

Looking out over the open ocean after so long felt like a hole opening in my head. Coming out once in a while to give my brain a rest didn't seem like a bad idea.

Of course, I hadn't come just for the view.

I watched the people on the beach carefully—clusters taking photos, couples, families. Couples strolled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the breakwater, catching the spray that occasionally fountained up. Kids screamed and ran across the sand.

I followed the edge of the beach and the paths people used most, tracking their routes.

Where they parked. Which way they moved after looking at the sea. The spots where people stopped, the popular photo points.

More of them than I expected cut into the alley near my mother's shop. That path was a shortcut into the restaurant strip and saved a lot of time.

Beside the alley stood two abandoned houses no one lived in.

If this is the traffic pattern, the front of that alley is prime real estate… but there's no decent building.

Everything nearby was old, and the best corner was occupied by an eyesore of a ruin.

Then the thought landed.

What if I just buy a good lot and put up a new building?

Right then—

Bzzzt—

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

Bitna.

I stopped walking and answered.

I checked the time—4:10.

How hard had she been pushing on the highway? Or had she left mid-meal?

I scanned the area quickly and gave her the most visible spot at the seaside parking lot. The moment I hung up, something clicked in my head.

Looking around, I saw several other eye-catching signs besides Cheongunpo Super.

Hmm… turning a place into a landmark people use to find Cheongunpo wouldn't be a bad approach either.

I was walking the coastal road, checking shop positions and signboards, when a soft lavender SUV glided along the road and parked.

The car was so distinctive that a few heads turned.

"Hoojin!"

Bitna hopped straight out and waved at me.

Under the warm March sun she looked fresher than usual.

A thin ivory knit, light-wash wide denim, pure white sneakers. On paper it was an ordinary outfit—on her, it looked incredible.

Her long hair fell in soft waves, and a crossbody bag sat lightly on her shoulder.

In the sunlight she somehow matched the Cheongunpo seascape perfectly.

Eyes around us drifted to her without thinking.

The quiet beach air seemed to stir a little.

I walked over.

"You got here faster than I expected."

"I just wanted to see you, so I listened to the adults talk and left right away. Which is why I'm starving right now…"

She cupped her stomach and made a pitiful face.

Even that looked cute. I had no scientific explanation for it.

"Oh no… What do you want to eat? Just say the word. I'll take you."

"Hmm, so what I want most right now is…"

She thought for a second, then decided.

"Let's go to Cheongun Bunsik! I heard the tteokbokki and fish cakes are amazing? You saw the blog I sent, right? The owner started making the fish cakes herself a little while ago. And everything on the menu is supposed to be good. Even the gimbap!"

"Ah, that place…"

Before I could finish, she was already grabbing my arm, face bright with excitement.

"Come on, hurry! If we're late there might not be seats!"

I glanced around with a slightly stiff expression.

No—that was my mother's shop.

The handmade fish cakes had been my quiet suggestion to her in the first place. With her skill and easy access to fresh ingredients nearby, it had seemed like a solid idea.

"Uh, maybe we should go somewhere else? There are plenty of places close by…"

"What? You just told me to say whatever I wanted! Come on. Let's go!"

Bitna, all lit up with anticipation, started pulling me toward the bunsik shop.

I had no choice but to lead her to my mother's place, mind racing for a way to handle this.

In the end I decided to just tell her. I couldn't lie to her.

"Bitna."

At the front of the shop I stopped and caught her arm.

"Hmm? What is it?"

"This bunsik shop. It's my mother's."

Bitna's eyes went round.

"…Huh? Really? This is your mom's place?"

She looked back and forth between the shop and me, stunned.

"Yeah. That's why I was trying not to come earlier. I thought meeting my mother out of nowhere would throw you off."

"Why are you only saying this now? You never mentioned your mother ran a bunsik shop here!"

When she pressed me, I smiled and deflected.

"You never asked."

"I have to ask for you to tell me?"

She pressed in close, eyes narrowed up at me.

Truth was, there hadn't been a good moment, and I still hadn't planned to tell her about my family. Things with my father were bad enough that I'd been reluctant.

I'd meant to be honest once we were closer.

But standing here now, I couldn't hide it from her any longer.

Right then the shop door opened and my mother stepped out.

"Oh? Hoojin!"

Our eyes met and she broke into a wide smile as she came over.

"Ah—uh, Mom. I'm here."

I smiled awkwardly, flustered.

"What are you doing here without a word…"

Her gaze shifted naturally to Bitna.

And her eyes went wide.

Oh no…

Just as I was panicking—

"Hello, Mother!"

Bitna bounced right up to her in the warmest voice.