What greeted us after safely descending the mountain was the group of people who had come to pick up Lee Hyeonseok. With their imposing builds and black suits, standing there stone-faced, they exuded an overwhelming presence. The moment we came down from the mountain, Lee Hyeonseok let go of my nape, and I lost my balance and collapsed right there.
“See you later then?”
“…Yes.”
I secretly flipped off the car as it departed with Lee Hyeonseok.
“Please live a long life with plenty of illnesses.”
By now, it had become completely dark. Having no energy to take the bus, I pulled out my phone to call a taxi instead. There were 32 missed calls from my parents and 999+ messages. Seeing those numbers made my heart sink with dread. I couldn’t tell if it was worry over me not coming home without any contact, or anger over me not taking the Suneung.
I rationalized to myself that not taking the Suneung was absolutely not my fault, but the moment I saw the messages from my parents, I felt like I’d been dragged back to reality. I’d lost all face. My heart lurched at the thought of what if they hated me now.
No. It’s fine. All of this isn’t my fault—it’s the fault of the thugs who kidnapped me, and by extension, Lee Hyeonseok, the mastermind. It was absolutely not my fault. If I explained properly, anyone would understand me. I was just an incredibly wronged and pitifully unfortunate Suneung test-taker.
First, I stopped by a nearby pharmacy and bought some Woohwang-cheongsimhwan and took one. As expected, one didn’t seem like it would be enough, so I took another. It was very bitter and unpleasant, but thinking about checking my parents’ messages, even this tasted sweet in comparison. Even after taking the Woohwang-cheongsimhwan, I couldn’t calm down, so I took deep breaths. Honestly, it was also a desperate attempt to delay checking the messages even a little longer.
I took one deep breath, two, three, and as I was about to take the fourth, I felt a vibration. It was from the phone in my hand. The caller was, of course, Eomma. This was the scariest moment of the entire day. It was more terrifying than the moment I was kidnapped or when I rushed to the exam hall belatedly—so terrifying I lost my grip on reality. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might burst right out of my body.
“…H-hello.”
I barely managed to press the answer button just as the ringtone was about to end. I was scared to answer, but talking face-to-face would be even scarier. I was so frightened I was even stuttering, but perhaps it was better to be scolded without seeing their faces. I squeezed my eyes shut and desperately hoped for a lighter punishment.
―Jiwoo-ya! Are you okay?
―How can you startle the kid by being so loud!
―You’re being even louder!
I was waiting for the verdict with a heart so fearful it had become detached, but worried voices flowed from the phone. The person on the call was definitely Eomma. The voice I could hear beside her was definitely Appa too. Unable to comprehend the situation, I lost my words and could only blink.
―Jiwoo-ya, I heard from your teacher. Did something happen? Are you hurt anywhere? Where are you right now?
After bickering with each other, they finally calmed down and began questioning me. No. This wasn’t an interrogation—it was closer to worried inquiry. The voice was softer than usual, trying to soothe me, and I began to feel relieved. I also felt even more apologetic. Suddenly, I missed my original parents too. It was just me seeking another escape because I wanted to avoid this.
―Just come home quickly first. It’s cold outside.
When I gave no answer, Eomma urged me to come home. It seemed she was quite worried about me being outside. I could even sense a faint anxiety. It seemed she was terribly worried I might make a bad choice.
What would their reaction be if they found out I might have committed murder rather than suicide? Of course, I had absolutely no intention of committing murder whatsoever.
―Have you eaten?
I knew I should answer, but my mouth just wouldn’t open. Even though I thought I should at least apologize, my mouth was clamped shut like a clam.
―…Jiwoo-ya, it’s okay. Whether you couldn’t take it because you were late, or you didn’t take it because you didn’t want to, it’s okay.
Just as a clam’s tightly shut mouth opens when boiled, my mouth began to open as they kept wrapping me in warmth.
“…It’s not that I didn’t want to take it….”
―Mm, okay.
I mumbled like a child pouring out their grievances to their parents. It sounded like an excuse, and I wondered why my words were coming out like this when I wasn’t even a kid, but Eomma soothed me.
“Actually….”
I was kidnapped so I couldn’t take the Suneung. Ridiculously enough, I apparently got on the nerves of some young master in the middle of his dramatic love affair. What even is this? Is this a foot or makgeolli? Good lord, even I can’t believe it after saying it myself? Actually, I’m wondering if I’m having a lucid dream right now—am I really awake? From the moment I transmigrated, I’ve been wondering if this is all a dream, because how else does any of this make sense?
—I was about to pour out my grievances like that, but then the thought “Well yeah, why did you get on the nerves of a rich young master?” popped into my head.
What if my parents went to confront him and something bad happened to them? He’d gotten revenge on a Suneung test-taker by making them miss the exam. So what might he do to my parents? I was seized by all sorts of negative thoughts. Thinking coldly but realistically, it might be better if it ended with just getting beaten. What if they lost their jobs….
“…I overslept and then went to the wrong exam hall….”
In the end, I lied again. It was a lie where I’d have nothing to say even if I got scolded, nothing to say even if I got nagged. Being hated by my parents was the scariest thing in the world to me, but something happening to my parents was even scarier.
―I see. You must have been so scared being outside alone. Come home quickly.
It was a lie that would make it perfectly reasonable for them to think I was pathetic, yet Eomma said it was okay and comforted me. Only then did the tears come. One drop, two drops. Tears that came far, far too late. I wasn’t used to crying nor was I good at it, so no sobbing sounds came out.
“Mm….”
Still, my throat was so hot that saying even a single word was incredibly difficult. If Lee Hyeonseok saw me now, maybe he’d be a little satisfied.
―Jiwoo-ya, where are you? Appa will come get you.
“Huh? No, it’s fine. I’ll take a taxi.”
―What taxi. Just tell me where you are.
“Taking a taxi is faster.”
Before I knew it, Appa had switched with Eomma and was asking for my location, saying he’d come pick me up. I could hear him moving around as if he was about to leave. I firmly declined, saying it was fine, but Appa persistently asked. In the end, I had to hang up first, saying I’d take a taxi and be there soon.
He called again, but I pressed reject, sent a text saying I’d be there soon, and called a taxi. Perhaps being considerate, a reply came telling me to hurry instead of another call. I thought to myself, I’m really taking a lot of taxis today.
“Oh my. Student, are you heading home now?”
“Ah, yes….”
The taxi driver tried to make friendly conversation. I thought to myself, I’m really talking to a lot of taxi drivers today too. I wanted to ignore him, but the Confucianism in me told me to at least respond appropriately, so I answered half-heartedly.
“Did you do well on the exam?”
But then the taxi driver stepped hard on a landmine. Isn’t it basic courtesy to ask if I even took the Suneung first?
“I got kidnapped so I couldn’t take it.”
“Huh?”
“Just kidding.”
“O-oh, okay.”
When I answered curtly, the taxi driver was flustered. Blaming others is the easiest thing to do, but I thought what’s the point, so I just passed it off as a joke. The taxi driver realized this wasn’t a good topic and awkwardly smiled before closing his mouth.
That son of a bitch who ordered this, how should I screw over that fucking bastard so thoroughly that word spreads about how well I screwed him over?
The moment I arrived home, my parents embraced me. They told me to eat, and I wanted to force myself to, but I had no appetite and absolutely couldn’t eat. When I said I’d sleep first, my parents didn’t try to stop me. The stress must have really built up, because starting from dawn, I began to develop a fever.
Whether it’s Lee Hyeonseok, Han Taeseok, Cheon Jaekyung, or Lee Juwon—they might all be pleased to see me like this. I wondered how it was possible that not a single one of them had a decent personality. I thought I wouldn’t have any more business with Lee Juwon’s family now that they’d succeeded in their revenge, but I’d have to see Lee Hyeonseok for at least another month or two. I must have sold out my country in a past life.
Well, anyway, I was bedridden with stress for about four days.
* * *
After spending three days like a sick chicken, I finally started to regain my senses. The soft bed felt nice. I wanted to keep lying down, but something grabbed my clothes. Not being fully conscious yet, I couldn’t think deeply about it and simply frowned at the thought that something was disturbing my sleep. When I unconsciously turned my body to the side, whatever it was stopped.
But that was only for a moment. Whatever had grabbed my clothes began doing something again. My eyes opened naturally yet cautiously. Having slept so deeply, I was dazed.
When I directed my gaze toward where I felt the movement, the something was a hand, and the action was unbuttoning my pajama shirt. My thoughts froze for a moment, but my gaze followed that arm up to find its owner.
Lee Hyeonseok was unbuttoning my pajama shirt. Not understanding what was happening, my gaze was fixed on Lee Hyeonseok. Lee Hyeonseok, who had been undoing the third button, must have felt my gaze because he raised his head.
Our eyes met.
Lee Hyeonseok—what made him so confident, I don’t know—had not a single change in his expression. As I was debating whether to condemn him as a pervert first, fly into a rage calling him a sex offender, or call 112 to report him first, Lee Hyeonseok spoke in a calm voice.
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
What’s a misunderstanding?
