Power & Sex, and... 29
After checking out of the hotel, Eun-mi looked at me and said she was heading back to Seoul.
"Honey, I'm going up to Seoul now."
"Why?"
"There's nothing left for me to do in Busan anymore. And if someone I know spots us, that'd be a real headache."
She had a point. Hardly anyone in Seoul knew who I was, but Busan was different—running into an acquaintance anywhere wouldn't raise eyebrows. Still, I didn't have any particular plans or meetings until evening.
"How about we just head out of town for a date, the two of us?"
"Is there a quiet spot without people?"
"Remember learning about the Bangudeok Petroglyphs back in school?"
Bangudeok suddenly came to mind. On Saturday mornings, it was practically deserted, and the path to the petroglyphs wound through bamboo groves—perfect for someone in our situation. I took the familiar Gyeongbu Expressway instead of the new Ulsan highway, heading toward Eonyang.
Exiting at Seoul Mountain IC, we followed the national road, then turned onto mountain paths until the village appeared. It was still early Saturday morning, so the entrance was quiet. I parked there, crossed the wooden deck bridge, and passed through the bamboo forest trail. Rounding the corner revealed our perfect private world—no eyes on us.
"It'd be scary coming here alone."
She linked her arm with mine as she spoke. The winding but well-paved mountain path led us to the broad spectacle of Bangudeok across Daegok Stream.
The Bangudeok Petroglyphs were a cultural heritage site believed to date from the Neolithic era. They depicted whale hunting scenes with startling realism, along with land hunts and even animal mating in intricate detail, offering glimpses into prehistoric life.
Just decades ago, you could see them clearly with the naked eye from across Daegok Stream. But the 1960s Sayeon Dam, built to secure Ulsan residents' drinking water, submerged the lower sections, damaging the original form and sparking debates over preservation.
From the viewpoint, Eun-mi peered through the binoculars at the illustrated positions beside her, but soon looked to me with pleading eyes, the effort wearing on her.
"Hard to find?"
"Yeah."
It was, indeed. My first time, I'd strained my eyes for ages without looking away, but matching the drawings wasn't easy. I knew what her glance meant. Drawing on old memories, I adjusted the binoculars for her and let her take another look.
"Whoa~ Found it."
She cheered loudly, as if unearthing buried treasure, beaming with delight. Then she spent ages shifting the lenses slightly, hunting more images, unable to tear her eyes from Bangudeok.
"My eyes hurt~"
No surprise there. Nearly thirty minutes glued to the binoculars would tire anyone, and dark circles had formed around her eyes.
"How did they carve something like that back then?"
It was mind-boggling. No power tools or ladders in those days. Even if they used softer stone, for it to endure thousands of years—almost intact until the flooding—demanded incredible skill. Ladders woven from grass? Maybe.
After finishing at Bangudeok, we trekked back through the forest to the village entrance, hit the main road, then veered onto a side path toward the Cheonjeon-ri Petroglyphs. The upper part featured prehistoric carvings, the lower from Silla and Unified Silla eras.
"Whoa~ You can get right up close here. Nice."
"Yeah. The problem is the occasional graffiti artists."
"Really? People come all the way out here to scribble?"
"Yep. It was big news a few years back."
"Those jerks."
She pursed her lips in genuine outrage. At an accessible height with just a sign and rope barrier—no guards—it was vulnerable. Once damaged, these treasures couldn't be easily restored. Worrying.
She examined it intently, her face filled with emotion—adorably so.
"Want to see some dinosaur footprints?"
"Dinosaurs?"
"Yeah."
"Pfft~ Where would dinosaur tracks be in these mountains?"
I led her across the stream to the stepped rocks.
"Look there~ Those deep indents? All dinosaur footprints."
"Huh? For real? They're huge!"
She held her foot next to a fossil, her face lighting up in wonder. This spot near Cheonjeon-ri had over two hundred tracks from multiple dinosaur species—evidence of coexistence.
She hopped around like a kid—or a dinosaur herself—pure joy. Maybe her chaebol life left no room for such nature escapes, so I watched contentedly until she tired herself out.
"Assemblyman, where are you?"
"Yes, Chief Kim. I'm in Ulsan right now. What's up?"
"Assemblyman Seo Jeong-ho called several times. He heard you were in his district and headed to Busan. What should we do?"
"Set something up for this evening, then. Give me his number."
Seo seemed eager. Who in politics lacked ambition or the urge to flaunt status? But Seo's burned hotter than most. I'd leverage it: offer him a supreme committee spot for the National Assembly Reform Alliance in exchange for pulling him into my fold. Soon, his name might join my private phone's contacts—not the public one.
Ending the call with Chief Kim, I caught Eun-mi's worried glance, fearing I had urgent business.
"Don't worry. I told him evening, so we've got time."
She smiled brightly then, linking arms again.
"How do you know all these places, honey?"
"I hate crowds, so I scout quiet spots to clear my head. That's how I found them."
"Thanks to you, I've seen them too. Never imagined spots like this existed."
True enough. Even locals overlooked them; why would a Seoul-born chaebol heiress, sole daughter of Lee Hoe-jang, trek rural paths?
"Hungry?"
"A bit. But with you, I'm full even without eating. As long as you're by my side, I'll be happy forever."
"I won't leave you unless you choose to go first. But if you find someone else someday, feel free—no hard feelings."
"Don't say that. Even as your secret woman, I want to stay by your side always."
"Aigoo. What am I gonna do with you."
She squeezed my arm tight. Feeling her soft breasts against it, blood rushed south, making walking awkward.
"Honey, what's wrong? Turned on? Huh? Why?"
No chance to answer as she rapid-fired the same question. Too embarrassed to admit it, I ignored her, staring ahead. Descending the short hill, Daegok Stream sparkled gently below the low bridge.
"Whoa~ The water's so clear."
Admiring the stream, she unlinked arms, squatted, and dipped her hand in.
"Eek! It's cold!"
Of course—chilled even in midsummer, this pure water fed the Taehwa River. After splashing playfully, she suddenly flung water at me.
I dodged most, but a few drops hit. With the air not that warm, I couldn't retaliate fully—didn't want her catching a cold. Her splashes caught sunlight, forming tiny rainbows.
"So pretty~"
Charmed by the rainbows, she flung more drops skyward—one, two, endlessly—gazing at them with childlike glee, laughing openly.