Chapter 5
Passing through a yard full of flowering trees behind the brewery building, they reached the living quarters.
The old hanok, with its beautiful tiled roof, was divided into a main house and a separate annex.
If you looked closely, there were signs of age here and there, but the inside seemed renovated—the bathroom was clean.
Yeon-eum guided Hwi-do to the bathroom and said she would go get him a change of clothes.
Left alone, Hwi-do squeezed his tall frame into the small bathroom where his head nearly touched the ceiling and took off his jacket and shirt.
Just as he loosened his belt and started to take off his pants—
Flicker.
The yellow bathroom light flickered.
He paused for a moment, but nothing else seemed wrong, so he continued.
Then the light went out completely, plunging the room into darkness.
Hwi-do sighed and reached for the door handle—
the resistance he felt was ominous.
The door was locked.
The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence.
“…What is this? Don’t play games.”
……
Outside was silent.
The thin plywood door looked flimsy.
After a brief hesitation, he gripped the handle.
“Hup.”
He slammed his solid shoulder into the door.
The handle popped off uselessly, and the door flew open.
Carried forward by the momentum, Hwi-do stepped out just as Yeon-eum returned with clothes in her arms.
She froze on the spot, eyes wide in shock.
“The door was broken—”
“Aaaah!”
Forgetting that he was wearing only his underwear, Hwi-do opened his mouth—and Yeon-eum screamed.
She dropped the clothes and turned to run.
Only then did he realize his appearance and hurriedly grabbed her arm.
“Calm down. This is a misunderstanding.”
“Let go! Mom! Grandpa!”
Her screams grew louder.
This was bad.
If someone showed up now, Lee Hwi-do—the powerful CEO—would be mistaken for a pervert.
Revealing his identity right now would be even worse.
If the police came and Yeon-eum claimed she didn’t know him, he could end up as the president of Daebok Liquor accused of indecent exposure and trespassing.
Even if the funeral had been chaotic, his face wasn’t ordinary enough to forget after seeing it once.
He sighed and carefully tapped her shoulder.
“Look at my face properly. Don’t you remember me?”
Yeon-eum squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head wildly.
“P-please don’t hurt me. I’ll pay the money back. I’ll pay it back, okay?”
She clearly thought he was a loan shark.
“Get a hold of yourself and open your eyes. Don’t you remember seeing me at the funeral?”
“……”
She cracked one eye open and glanced at him.
Gradually, the tension drained from her body.
Hwi-do cautiously stepped back.
“…Were you the one who came at dawn?”
She finally recognized him.
When Hwi-do nodded with a relieved sigh, Yeon-eum tilted her head.
“Then… you’re not a debt collector?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh wow. That’s a relief.”
The hostile glare she’d had a moment ago instantly turned into a bright smile.
Was there anyone whose emotions changed so fast and showed so clearly on their face?
Hwi-do let out a short laugh and held out the broken door handle.
“The power went out and the door locked. I had no choice.”
“Huh? Why did it break?”
Now that the misunderstanding was cleared up, Yeon-eum finally came to her senses and took the handle from him.
The man stood calmly, wearing nothing but his underwear.
Broad shoulders like a trained athlete’s, firm chest muscles, defined abs, and thighs that looked ready to burst from beneath a suit that usually hid them.
Even in that brief moment, he looked like a perfectly crafted work of art from head to toe.
Even the undeniable presence bulging beneath the thin fabric.
“P-please put some clothes on first. I’ll go change too.”
As Hwi-do picked up the clothes, Yeon-eum fled with a red face.
Standing in front of the wide-open bathroom, Hwi-do quickly threw the clothes on.
They were fairly large, but his wrists and ankles stuck out noticeably.
Wearing loose work clothes that looked like a modernized hanbok, he couldn’t help but feel ridiculous.
“All this trouble just to buy a piece of land.”
He sat on the wooden porch of the annex, waiting for Yeon-eum.
Under the moonlight, a complex scent drifted from somewhere beyond the quiet scenery.
Resting his head against a pillar, he closed his eyes.
The damp smell of rain-soaked earth, fresh grass, faint flowers, the cool breeze brushing past tree branches—
And mixed among them, the faint scent of nuruk.
The smell of alcohol fermenting.
Had he dozed off?
A sweet scent brushed his nose, and when he opened his eyes, Yeon-eum was right in front of him, reaching out.
Her hair was still damp from washing, droplets falling and soaking the shoulder of her white dress until it turned slightly translucent.
“…Did you put on perfume?”
His voice came out low and rough, his throat tight.
“No?”
Then was it shampoo? Lotion?
Curious, Hwi-do leaned in and sniffed lightly.
The scent was fresh, soft, and faintly sweet.
“I get headaches from artificial smells, so I don’t use strongly scented products.”
That couldn’t be it. Then what was this strong scent?
Frowning, Hwi-do sniffed again.
Pfft.
A small, amused laugh escaped Yeon-eum.
“Ah, sorry. You keep sniffing—it’s kind of like a dog.”
“…Like a dog?”
A dog.
He was used to being called that—
but usually, he was the one saying it, not hearing it.
Realizing she’d been rude, Yeon-eum widened her eyes and hurried to explain.
“No, I mean—when I was little, we had a dog. Whenever I was eating something, it would come up and sniff like that. Even though it knew it wasn’t getting any, it always had to smell it once before giving up.”
At that, Hwi-do moved instinctively.
“Then may I smell it?”
As he stepped closer, Yeon-eum inhaled sharply.
Ignoring everything else, Hwi-do focused only on the scent tickling his nose.
From the nape of her neck rose a soft, refreshing, sweet fragrance that sank deep into his lungs.
Strong smells always put him on edge, but this one didn’t bother him at all.
He wanted to smell it a little longer.
Yeon-eum peeked at his face as he stood there with his eyes closed.
His long lashes lay neatly against his closed eyes. Smooth skin, a sharp jawline, perfectly shaped lips—everything was in balance.
A lazy smile curved his lips.
Warm breath brushed her delicate ear.
Her heart started pounding wildly.
“Haaah.”
She released the breath she’d been holding.
When he slowly pulled away, his sharp gaze had already returned.
“So… did you really come because I told you to visit Jeongju today?”
She asked, trying to hide her awkwardness.
Lowering his eyes, he replied slowly in a relaxed voice.
“…I was passing by and thought I’d stop to say hello. It’s sudden, so let’s leave the drinks for another time—”
“No! Since you came all this way, you have to try Barun Beopju.”
The bathroom incident had made things awkward, but he wasn’t a debt collector, and he’d ruined his expensive clothes because of her.
On top of that, he was a guest who had come to the funeral.
Even if she’d said it while drunk, she couldn’t very well beg him to come and then kick him out now.
“Please wait here for a moment.”
Hwi-do had never been told to wait before.
He was always the one giving orders.
Yet here he was, obediently waiting because a much younger woman told him to.
Strangely, it didn’t feel bad.
He had become president of Daebok Liquor at a young age and worked nonstop for years.
He’d turned the company’s soju market share from second place to first, and reversed declining overseas exports into profit.
Had he ever truly enjoyed a full vacation, free from work?
The air here was completely different from Seoul.
He lost track of time.
He had already sent Team Leader Park ahead to explain the land acquisition to Yeon-eum.
To accurately assess the chances and finalize the contract without mistakes, Hwi-do had no choice but to come himself.
Since it’s come to this, having a drink and hearing her true thoughts might not be a bad idea.
Soon, Yeon-eum returned carrying a small table with food and alcohol.
“This is Jeongju Brewery’s pride—Barun Beopju.”
“May I look forward to it?”
As soon as the lid was opened, a gentle rice aroma rose up.
Clear liquor filled the ceramic cup.
Just as Hwi-do was about to drink, Yeon-eum quickly stopped him.
“Wait. We need to clink glasses.”
Clink…?
Hwi-do paused midair, raising one eyebrow.
Yeon-eum lifted her cup with a bright smile that could disarm anyone.
After a brief moment of thought, she shouted cheerfully,
“To our future.”
Her cup tapped lightly against Hwi-do’s suspended glass and bounced away.
Hearing the toast, Hwi-do let out a hollow laugh.
Our future.
There was no future where the word “our” belonged.
If she knew why he had really come—
Still, the situation was amusing.
For now, he decided to play along with the rhythm of a woman who knew nothing.
