By Zephyria 
“I wanted to ask if you’d be interested in boarding at my place, since commuting from Suwon must be difficult. It’s in the Jongno area, so it’s not exactly right next to the office, but you could commute with me… Oh, and I don’t live with other family members; it’s just me.”
As he explained further, it seemed that after getting back in touch with his younger siblings, he had left the official residence and returned to the house where he used to live. Jiha’s heart fluttered, but there were practical issues.
“I’ve never lived away from home before, so I’m not sure if I’ll adjust well, and I don’t know if my parents will give me permission…”
“I attended a boarding school for a short while, so I fully understand what you’re worried about. But we won’t really clash. I’ll hire someone separately for the housework, so you don’t need to worry about that, and the house is large enough that we could go the whole day without seeing each other if we wanted to. You can think of it as a share house. I redid the interior early this year, so the inside is clean.”
With his hands on his hips, he bowed deeply toward Yoo Jiha. As their faces drew closer, Jiha’s steep line of sight tilted diagonally to meet his eyes. While maintaining that eye contact, the man gave a beautiful smile.
“And the house is truly lovely. You’ll adore it once you see it.”
With a racing heart, Yoo Jiha felt certain. He would be lovelier than the house.
Thus, bewitched once again by his handsome charms, Jiha took a ride in the incredibly expensive-looking sedan that Jeil Heon said he’d recently bought. Within one minute of touring the house, Jiha called his mother. Even if he had just said he was boarding, she wouldn’t have permitted it easily, but the place he wanted to board was his boss’s house. His mother openly suspected that he had been drinking during the day and was talking nonsense, so Jeil Heon took over the phone.
“Hello, Mother. I am Jeil Heon, working with Jiha.”
What? Are you really our child’s team leader?
After chatting with his bewildered mother, Jeil Heon ended up being invited to their home. Jeil Heon ruffled the hair of Yoo Jiha, who was embarrassed that he had not only aroused his mother’s suspicion but had actually brought the man home.
“You’re a student. Your parents would worry if you moved out on your own, so it’s only natural that I meet them in person.”
It seemed that the hope of appearing as a fully functioning member of society in his parents’ eyes was still a premature wish.
In the end, the location for their date—or rather, the dinner they had agreed to share—was changed to the house in Suwon. With his father returning from work, the house was bustling for the first time in a while. Despite the chaos, his mother prepared a wonderful spread, and by the end of the meal, the tension of his parents, who had found Jeil Heon intimidating, had largely eased. In particular, his father looked as if he were about to bring out the liquor, if only Jeil Heon hadn’t driven his car.
“The house is so large that it was getting lonely living alone, so I happened to hear about Jiha. I’m actually the one who should be grateful.”
“Jiha is still immature despite his age, so I worry he might be a burden to you, Team Leader. We raised him too indulgently…”
After the number of times he’d been smacked on the back, what kind of nonsense was this? Yoo Jiha looked at her with a protesting gaze, but he shrank back when he met his mother’s eyes, which were glaring at him secretly behind Jeil Heon’s back.
Meanwhile, the response was a calm voice filled with warmth.
“Jiha is a very upright and wonderful young man. It must be thanks to being raised by such excellent parents.”
It was a single sentence that didn’t use flowery adjectives or add specific reasons why he was good; at a glance, it almost felt dry. However, the low, steady flow of his voice and his soft expression signaled that it was more sincere than anything else.
What parents would refuse praise for their child? While his mother and father hid their delight behind modesty, Yoo Jiha buried his nose in a fruit plate so that his burning cheeks wouldn’t be discovered. Ah, there it was again. This feeling, as if his heart were drumming right in his ears whenever he was in front of him.
Since the only things to bring were summer clothes and personal belongings, the moving day was set for the coming weekend. Yoo Jiha insisted that, as a member of society, he would pull his own suitcase, but his parents didn’t buy it for a second, and he ended up riding in his father’s car to Bukchon, where Jeil Heon’s residence was located.
“The navigation clearly says to go this way, but this is strange…”
His father tilted his head, repeatedly checking the GPS. They had declined Jeil Heon’s offer to meet them and were trying to find the way on their own, but they simply couldn’t find the path. Left with no choice, they called Jeil Heon for help.
The neighborhood is complicated, so people usually get lost on their first visit.
Strangely, as they followed Jeil Heon’s guidance, the alleys they had been circling in just moments ago opened up smoothly. Listening to the conversation between his father and the man, Yoo Jiha broke into a cold sweat. If you try to go on your own, you get lost, but if you follow the ‘exact method someone tells you,’ the path opens… If he just changed a few words, didn’t this feel familiar? Specifically, it felt similar to the records he had been diligently reading in the office yesterday.
‘No way… No, it can’t be. It probably isn’t.’
Pretending not to know the proverb that “the ‘no way’ is what kills you,” Yoo Jiha focused on the scenery outside the car window. As expected of Bukchon, famous for its hanoks, the view was a feast for the eyes no matter where he looked.
Eventually, they climbed the hill and arrived at their destination. As they passed under a magnificent plaque that read ‘Hall of Brush Ploughing’, his mother’s jaw dropped.
“Is this really the place? Not some kind of hanok pension?”
Like father, like son; it was the exact same thing Yoo Jiha had said to Jeil Heon when he first saw this whale-back tiled house. In addition to the stunning vista overlooking Bukchon, the vast interior, which seemed to consist of dozens of rooms, featured a sarangchae built with traditional methods and topped with celadon tiles, and beyond the firmly closed middle gate lay the anchae.
The area in front of the site where a pond had been filled was the spot for a detached building. If the doors on all four sides were opened wide, one could leisurely enjoy the garden scenery as if sitting in a pavilion. On one side of the garden, a small bamboo grove had been planted, and a subtle scent of bamboo drifted on the gentle breeze.
“I’ve been away from home for quite a while, and it’s thanks to my siblings managing it well in the meantime.”
Jeil Heon explained it nonchalantly, but his parents’ faces quickly shifted to worry, wondering if it was truly alright to board in such a magnificent house without paying a single cent. Perhaps reading their minds, Jeil Heon continued in a light tone.
“It’s not as great a house as it looks. It originally belonged to a pro-Japanese collaborator.”
“A pro-Japanese collaborator?”
The atmosphere shifted as if an exciting story were about to unfold. Not only the parents but Yoo Jiha also pricked up his ears. Jeil Heon’s story did not disappoint those expectations.
A bomb had exploded at the residence of a pro-Japanese collaborator who had lived in luxury even during the Japanese colonial period, just before a family celebration. Not stopping at the explosion, a meticulously planned arson followed. The vast mansion was almost entirely burned down and several people died, but it didn’t end there. Rumors abounded that ghosts appeared on the site where only ashes remained, or that a curse for selling out the country had been cast. Because the entire family had been wiped out, the pro-Japanese relative who inherited the estate as a legacy sold the land for a pittance instead of restoring the mansion. The new owner of the sold land also failed to escape misfortune, and the ownership changed hands several times.
His mother, listening intently, swallowed hard.
“Don’t tell me ghosts still appear now?”
“If that were the case, I wouldn’t be living here, would I? Ah, but if there are pro-Japanese collaborators among your ancestors, you might need to be a bit careful.”
“Oh, thank goodness. Both my family and my husband’s family were just commoners who farmed in the countryside. Right, dear?”
“Among my great-aunt’s family, there was someone who went over to Japan because it was hard to make a living; I assume that wouldn’t be a problem?”
His father let out a hearty laugh. His parents seemed to treat it as a joke following a ghost story, whether they believed it or not, but Yoo Jiha could not. While his parents were touring the house, he stealthily tugged on Jeil Heon’s clothing—the hem of the shirt he wore instead of the field jacket he had stopped wearing after ruining it.
“The part about the ghosts… that’s just a lie someone spread to lower the property value, right?”
“The part about the bomb and the arson burning it down is a true story.”
“…”
“If you look up old newspapers, the articles are there. I didn’t mention it because I thought your parents might be shocked if I went into detail, but the exact time it happened was 19…”
“No, no. I don’t want to hear it!”
Yoo Jiha hurriedly covered his mouth. As his hand reached out urgently to block Jeil Heon’s mouth, he felt the texture of soft lips. That is, the same texture from the scene of the water deer collision accident.