“Grandmother, were you curious about me?”

    “If my grandchild likes someone enough to cling to them, what kind of grandmother wouldn’t be curious?”

    Was this a misunderstanding? Had I misunderstood? Grandmother, you didn’t hate me? You were supposed to drag me out, chase me away, and scold me. Why? Why aren’t you doing that? You could have said I wasn’t here today and ignored me. You should have dismissed me, saying someone like me didn’t even deserve to eat here.

    But why are you giving me everything I want to eat? Grandmother, why are you being like this to me? Why? Why are you making me think strange thoughts? Because of you, I want to stay here even more. Just tell me to leave right now. Tell me to get lost and stay away from your precious grandson.

    “What are you crying for? Where did you even learn to make such a racket?”

    “Grandmother, give me money.”

    Ji-an barely managed to speak with his trembling lips, afraid that if he opened his mouth wrong, he would burst into sobs.

    “Alright, how much should I give you?”

    “A lot. And stop forcing that man to meet people.”

    “Alright. Is there anything else you want to say?”

    At her words, Ji-an shook his head vigorously. It was as if there was a faucet attached to his eyes—no matter how much he tried to stop, the tears wouldn’t cease. Even when he bit his lip to keep from crying, little hiccups kept escaping.

    “Is Secretary Lee outside?”

    “Yes.”

    “Bring the ledger.”

    “Understood.”

    “Handing over a large sum of cash outright is bound to cause trouble. I’ll split it up and give it to you gradually, so keep that in mind.”

    Hearing her conversation with someone outside, Ji-an wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve and stood up. He had to leave. If he hesitated any longer, either Secretary Baek or that man would come to drag him back. Not that he actually expected her to give him the money… but what if she really did?

    “Why are you getting up?”

    Whether it was because he stood up too suddenly or because he had been crying too much, Ji-an felt dizzy. He covered his face with both hands and stood still for a moment before speaking.

    “I told you. I only came because I really wanted to eat the food here. Now that I’m done, I’m leaving.”

    He was about to bow when a knock sounded, followed by the sliding door opening. At that moment, Ji-an’s body swayed and collapsed to the side.

    ***

    What was going on now?

    He knew Ji-an had an unpredictable nature, but his actions were beyond all expectations. Even when those stationed at the intercity bus stop reported where Ji-an would get off, Ideun had only instructed them to follow him discreetly and not interfere.

    But to think the first place Ji-an would go was there.

    At first, he was guided in alone, but he soon sought out the old woman and went to where she was. Even as Ideun received these reports, he couldn’t understand.

    Ji-an’s newly made phone remained off, and it felt uncomfortable to contact the old woman directly.

    Was she involved in this? But why? Then why had Ji-an run away, only to go to her afterward? Everything was full of contradictions.

    He didn’t want any third parties interfering when even a direct conversation led to misunderstandings. The only thing he could do was get to Ji-an as quickly as possible.

    Stepping on the gas, Ideun drove faster.

    Arriving at the entrance, he parked and, without waiting for guidance, made his way toward the space where the old woman resided. His jaw was clenched tightly.

    What did she say this time to make Ji-an uneasy? There were already too many obstacles in a situation where Ji-an needed absolute stability and trust.

    Not that he could lock Ji-an away somewhere to keep him from meeting anyone.

    Passing by people who bowed their heads at the sight of him, Ideun stopped in front of the sliding door, took a deep breath, and knocked. But he didn’t wait for a response before pushing it open.

    And the sight before him made him raise his voice without thinking.

    “What the hell is going on!”

    As soon as he saw Ji-an in Secretary Baek’s arms, Ideun strode forward and pulled him away.

    So Secretary Baek had looked him straight in the eye and claimed not to know Ji-an’s whereabouts—only for him to be here all along.

    Neither the old woman, who looked momentarily surprised, nor Secretary Baek, whose expression remained as unreadable as ever, mattered to him right now. Ideun’s hands trembled slightly as he checked Ji-an, who lay limp in his arms as if unconscious.

    When Ji-an stormed out, snapping at him not to follow, he had looked full of life. But now, his entire face was streaked with tears—he didn’t even need to ask to guess what had happened.

    There were no secrets in this world. Secretary Baek had spouted nonsense about family bloodlines, but in the end, he was clearly the old woman’s man. He had spoken to Ideun one way and then followed her orders behind his back. Just thinking about the men in black suits he had seen in town earlier made Ideun’s head throb.

    According to the information gathered by his people, the entire village had been searched simultaneously. A vast amount of human and material resources must have been invested. Unlike himself, who had tracked down Ji-an’s new phone number through the store where he had purchased it, they had likely used illegal means to obtain it even faster.

    While Ideun had spent time speaking briefly with the people who had looked after Ji-an and handling cleanup, Secretary Baek had come straight here. And in this room, in front of the old woman and Secretary Baek—what had Ji-an gone through?

    How much had that already frail boy cried for him to pass out? If Ideun had been even a little later, they might have whisked Ji-an away somewhere. He had people stationed around the area, but that didn’t mean he had the power to go against the old woman yet.

    Ideun shot a sharp glare at Eunsook, who was seated before an untouched tea set.

    “I’ll hold you accountable for this later.”

    “Stay right there.”

    As Ideun adjusted Ji-an in his arms and turned to leave, the old woman called out to him. He merely tilted his head slightly, glancing downward.

    “Dr. Kang will be here soon.”

    What was the point of calling a doctor after breaking someone?

    Even if Ji-an couldn’t rest easily with him, being with Ideun was better than staying here.

    Without answering, he stepped toward the door, but the sliding screen remained firmly shut.

    “He is mine, and this is my business. If you interfere any further, I won’t stay quiet.”

    “Choi Ideun.”

    At his firm declaration, the old woman’s voice took on a sharp edge, but it had no effect on him.

    Had she been like this when she killed his parents too? How twisted must someone be to ruin the lives of everyone around them? The very fact that her blood ran in his veins made him sick.

    “Chairwoman, having Dr. Kang treat him is a good idea, but going to the hospital wouldn’t be a bad option either.”

    Breaking the tense silence, Secretary Baek stepped in. Only after hearing the old woman’s heavy sigh did the tightly shut door finally slide open.

    Without looking back, Ideun walked out of that suffocating space.

    And he vowed never to return.

     

    * * *

     

    Ji-an slowly opened his eyes at the sound of someone quietly sobbing in the distance. The first thing he saw was the sky, painted in breathtaking hues. With not a single cloud in sight, the sky was filled with a mysterious blend of blue, yellow, orange, and deep navy, marking the setting sun.

    A refreshing breeze carrying the scent of grass brushed against his body, awakening him from his drowsiness. Unlike the pleasant sensation of waking from a deep sleep, the sound of quiet sobbing continued.

    Stretching lazily, Ji-an sat up and took in his surroundings—a wide field of grass and a forest.

    “Where is this?”

    The middle of the woods? Looking around more carefully, Ji-an realized he was in a slightly open grassy area deep in the forest. The sobbing sound, hidden somewhere nearby, continued like someone was crying in secret. Following the sound, his gaze landed on something small between the blades of grass.

    A thin, tiny snake, barely large enough to fit in his palm, had its head raised slightly above the grass.

    “Was it you?”

    Since the only living creature he could see was that snake, Ji-an spoke toward it. The small triangular head, peeking through the grass, wobbled slightly.

    “Why are you crying?”

    Rather than fear or discomfort, Ji-an felt an odd concern. The snake’s round, black eyes seemed wet, and without realizing it, he reached out a hand toward it.

    The black snake, which had been staring at him, didn’t come closer, watching him with cautious eyes. Ji-an met its gaze and asked, “Where’s your mom?”

    Ah… Snakes don’t have parents. They hatch from eggs and are on their own from the start. Though it was a logical thought, the small, sniffle-like sounds continued, making it hard for him to ignore the little creature.

    “Are you hungry?”

    If it was, should he catch a bug for it? But do snakes even eat bugs? It seemed too small to eat mice or birds.

    Ji-an moved carefully, turning toward the snake so as not to startle it. But the moment he approached, the tiny creature flinched, making him freeze in place.

    “I just want to check if you’re hurt.”

    Raising both hands, he tried to signal that he meant no harm, but the small head, which had been peeking out from the grass, slowly lowered. Then, showing its back to him, the snake started to slither away. Seeing that, Ji-an instinctively called out.

    “Wait.”

    The tiny snake stopped, only turning its head slightly to look at him.

    “Don’t go. Stay with me.”

    He wasn’t particularly fond of snakes, nor had he ever imagined touching a reptile. But seeing the little black snake lowering its head as if defeated, he couldn’t bear to turn away.

    As if hesitating, the snake remained still. Ji-an added softly, “Just stay with me.”

    The surroundings darkened further, making it harder to distinguish where the black snake was among the grass.

    I hate the dark… Being alone in the dark was like hell itself.

    Cautiously brushing the grass with his fingers, Ji-an moved toward the snake.

    At least, until this darkness fades, stay with me.

    The sun sets faster in the forest. As complete darkness fell, Ji-an stopped moving and sat down.

    If he had to endure this darkness, he’d rather do it with the snake. Even if it bit him, even if the venom killed him, at least for now, he desperately wanted to stay together.

    “Please… don’t leave me alone.”

    Overcome by fear, Ji-an could barely make a sound. Muffled words barely escaped his lips as he curled up, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face.

    With his eyes tightly shut, he could feel his heartbeat pounding irregularly as he struggled to breathe. Keeping his lips slightly parted, he inhaled deeply, exhaled, and repeated the process. Then, the scent of fresh grass filled his senses, and he momentarily forgot to breathe.

    The cold wind that had been wrapping around him vanished. A smooth, solid surface enclosed him, as though shielding him from the night. Slowly, Ji-an lifted his head.

    And when he fully tilted it back, he was met with the face of a massive black snake, illuminated under the full moon.

    ***

    Ideun stood frozen, his expression drained of color, as medical staff swarmed around Ji-an.

    The moment he carried Ji-an’s unconscious body out, he had contacted Rowoon. The second they arrived at the hospital, Ji-an went into shock and disappeared from Ideun’s sight.

    As his guardian, all Ideun could do was sign papers and wait outside.

    By the time morning broke, Ji-an had regained consciousness. After multiple tests, he was moved to a private room. Yet, all Ideun could do was wait. Wait for Ji-an to wake up. Listen to explanations that made no sense.

    A mutual imprint… and a child…

    Before he could even process those facts, Ji-an had another episode.

    With no room for argument, Ideun was forced out of the hospital room and left standing in the hallway. Leaning against the wall, he eventually slid down to the floor.

    Too much had happened in too short a time. Too many things he hadn’t known surfaced all at once, leaving him unable to make sense of anything.

    A mutual imprint. And a child.

    Raking a hand down his face, Ideun let out a shaky breath.

    He first met Ji-an in France. Ji-an was in  heat, and they had been physically involved multiple times. Ji-an had even bitten his nape.

    But to think that was an imprinting bond? That, from that moment, a child had been conceived?

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