Shaken Resolve
In the end, his promise to hold back was never kept.
After three relentless rounds, Yeo-won could endure no more and collapsed where she stood. Shin-wol murmured, as though in pity.
“Does this seem like a question of stamina to you?”
Despite her usual habit of sparing words, the ordeal had been so exhausting that her voice rose sharply.
Thoroughly worn out by him, Yeo-won dragged her heavy limbs and staggered out of the motel. Before leaving, she glanced at the old clock on the first floor and saw that it had only just passed nine.
The relief that so little time had passed lasted only a moment. It was barely nine o’clock, yet Yeo-won’s appearance was unrecognizable.
Her legs trembled with every step, and her face was haggard, as if she had been awake for three days and nights. In contrast, Shin-wol looked perfectly composed, as though nothing had happened. The faint freshness clinging to him only fueled her irritation further.
I’ll never worry about him again.
All of this had stemmed from that trivial concern. How foolish, to worry about someone who needed no worrying.
Yeo-won pushed back the wave of fatigue and made her way toward the bus stop that led into the village.
When she arrived, she habitually reached for her phone, only to realize it was powered off. Her expression turned troubled.
Her family home lay in a small village twenty minutes by car from town. A village bus ran between the town and the hamlet, but it operated only six times a day, and the schedule was so irregular that one had to check the app each time.
With her phone dead and the next bus still a long wait away, Yeo-won looked around urgently.
Just then, a taxi appeared in the distance, heading toward the stop.
She rejoiced at the perfect timing and waved. The approaching taxi slowed to a stop.
Yeo-won shoved the rigidly standing Shin-wol into the back seat as if folding away a screen, then climbed in after him and closed the door.
“Driver, to the entrance of Samwol Village, please.”
“Samwol Village? Not many people come out from there, so it’s a bit…” The driver, adjusting the rearview mirror, suddenly asked in a startled voice. “Aren’t you the granddaughter from the Apricot House?”
At the somehow familiar voice, Yeo-won flinched and looked forward. When she saw the man who had turned to peer into the back seat, her eyes widened.
He looked older than she remembered, but his features remained unchanged. The elderly man lifted his green cap slightly and grinned.
“That’s right. Han Yeo-won, granddaughter of the Apricot House.”
“Village chief?”
“Aigoo, it’s been years since I was chief. I stepped down from the position several years ago.”
“Ah, I left home when I turned twenty and have been living elsewhere, so I didn’t know.”
Then what should she call him? Come to think of it, she had never properly heard his name. While she hesitated, the man turned forward again and shifted gears.
“Heading into the village? Since it’s a familiar face, I’ll take you as a favor.”
“Thank you.”
The man glanced at the rearview mirror once more and pulled away.
Inside the car, only the steady rumble of the engine filled the space. No conversation passed between them.
A silence that would normally feel ordinary now felt strangely tense.
Yeo-won understood. This tension did not come from mere awkwardness, but from discomfort.
In her childhood, the way adults had whispered openly in front of her, saying What would a child know? had left a scar so deep that the memory still surfaced from time to time.
Not everyone had been like that, but some of the village elders had never particularly liked her.
The unwelcome memory, rising after so long, made her clench her fists tightly. At once, Shin-wol’s hand rested on her head.
Startled, Yeo-won turned to find him resting his chin against the window with a languid smile.
“…Why are you smiling?”
Shin-wol spoke as if he were enjoying a play. When Yeo-won glared at him without answering, he seemed to find even that amusing and kept chuckling softly.
He toyed with her long hair, winding it around his finger before letting it slip free. She slapped the back of his hand, telling him to stop, but he merely laced their fingers together with a mischievous grin.
His playful antics were absurd, yet strangely endearing. A small laugh escaped Yeo-won before she could stop it.
“Did you come to see your grandmother?”
At the sudden question, Yeo-won jumped and yanked her hand away. Shin-wol’s expression hardened, but she didn’t notice as she answered quickly.
“Y-yes. Tomorrow is Grandfather’s memorial day.”
“Ah, has it already been that long?”
The village chief stopped the car at a red light, then glanced at the back seat through the mirror.
More precisely, he was studying Shin-wol with open curiosity. The heavy, clinging gaze only fell away once the light turned green.
“So you brought a prospective husband to introduce? Your grandfather would be pleased.”
At the chief’s hearty laugh, Yeo-won thought, Here it comes.
“He’s not a prospective husband. He’s just…”
While she debated whether to call him a friend or a colleague, the chief continued swiftly.
“Ah, a lover then? I hear young people these days bring partners home even if marriage isn’t on the table. How times have changed.”
Yeo-won hesitated briefly, then answered in a small voice.
“…Something like that.”
Upon reflection, claiming he was a friend or coworker would have sounded even stranger, so she simply agreed.
She had already expected some gossip the moment she brought Shin-wol along.
Encouraged by her answer, the village chief launched into full conversation.
There was little substance to it. Most of his words required no reply, so Yeo-won offered only polite exclamations.
When they were nearly at the village entrance, the chief let out a long sigh and said,
“Still, your grandmother can finally set her worries aside.”
“Pardon?”
“Ah, that woman who never once spoke of you before suddenly started talking about you.”
Yeo-won’s face, which had remained indifferent throughout, hardened in an instant. Her pupils, fixed on the scenery outside, trembled violently before shifting to the back of the driver’s head.
“…About me? My grandmother?”
“Well, she didn’t bring it up first. The villagers had been asking when you would marry. When the women kept meddling, do you know what she said? That you’re a capable child and would handle it well, so they should stop worrying and mind their own business. Imagine that—defending her granddaughter so fiercely.”
The chief laughed heartily, then coughed as if something had caught in his throat. The conversation ended there. Yeo-won asked no further questions and quietly turned back to the window.
At first glance, nothing seemed different, but the hand resting on her thigh trembled faintly. Shin-wol, noticing the change, regarded her with a face grown slightly cold.
Yeo-won stared into the farthest distance, trying desperately to hide the heat rising in her eyes.
She had sworn not to hope. Yet with one careless phrase, the heart she had barely pieced together shattered completely.
It would have been better to be met with coldness.
If her heart was going to waver so easily, it would have been better to keep hearing herself called an evil spirit.
Emotions surged uncontrollably.
Her brown eyes, drifting without direction, filled with a sorrow she could not name.
Self-loathing flooded her—for reading meaning into words that could hardly be called praise, for daring to hope once more.
But it is already too late.
Her body was drawing closer to death with every passing moment, and no one could stop it. Even if someone could, Yeo-won did not wish for that.
In a life that felt both long and short, she had already lost so much. She had grown weary of it all. At least for the time she had left, she did not want to witness another death.
If she could have one final wish, it was only this.
I hope Grandmother does not cry at my funeral.
If she thought of her as an evil spirit, then let her remain one until the very end. That way, Grandmother might carry one less burden on her heart.
Above all, she simply hoped the grandmother who would be left alone would suffer even a little less.
A few minutes later the taxi came to a stop. The moment Yeo-won stepped out, she frowned deeply.
“What is this?”
At the familiar entrance stood four jangseung she had never seen before, lined up in a solemn row.
They had definitely not been there on her last visit.
Overwhelmed by their size—each easily twice her height—and the heavy aura of intimidation they radiated, Yeo-won murmured softly.
“There was nothing like this when I came before…”
“Those? Grandma Yoon had them put up.”
The village chief, who had gotten out behind her and was lighting a cigarette, responded to her quiet words.
“Grandma Yoon?”
“Yes. It feels a bit unpleasant, but she insisted so strongly. Tsk.”
They were meant to ward off evil, but what evil? If it had been anyone else, perhaps she could have understood, but the fact that it was Grandma Yoon made no sense.
Grandma Yoon was not the type to assert her opinions boldly, nor did she ever favor actions that exposed her past. As proof, she had driven away villagers begging for fortune-telling on more than one occasion, often quite harshly.
While Yeo-won stared at the jangseung in a daze, a chilling laugh drifted down from above.
At the ominous sound, she turned. Shin-wol stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the jangseung.