“…How are you going to help me?”
Unable to meet his eyes, Haram stared at the floor as he spoke, clutching the hem of his shirt while swallowing hard. Tae-yi didn’t waste any time.
“Sell me your land.”
His deep eyes fixed on Haram’s tear-reddened ones. The gaze that had always felt gentle now seemed unfamiliar.
Haram had expected him to ask why. But Tae-yi didn’t offer any further explanation.
“Tae-yi…”
His voice was barely above a whisper, tired and worn. Slowly lifting his heavy head, Haram met Tae-yi’s eyes and said,
“You should go back to Seoul. I’m staying here… I’ll take care of the land myself.”
He’d only wanted comfort. But when even Tae-yi brought up the land, the wave of resentment swelled again. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get angry at him. Pressing his lips together, he swallowed the frustration and quietly turned away.
He was just too exhausted. Whatever help Tae-yi meant to offer, if it had to do with the land—whether it was from Tae-yi or the dangerous people from Changi Construction—he didn’t want any of it. He was sick of it.
That land, left to him by his late grandmother, was something he was supposed to protect. He’d been living just fine farming it until suddenly these strangers came out of nowhere and started threatening him. It terrified him. All he wanted now was to hide his heavy body under a warm blanket.
“…Da Haram.”
Tae-yi called out quietly as he stared at Haram’s retreating figure heading toward the small room. But Haram shut the door behind him without a word.
Click.
The sound of the door closing echoed through the now-empty living room. Left alone in the silence, Tae-yi let out a low sigh and raked his hand through his hair.
He’d always made the right choices. Every decision he made brought about better-than-expected results—and those results had built his public image.
The competent younger son, always compared to the useless eldest born into an elite Alpha family.
The ridiculously long nickname had almost become something he was proud of. He’d never once regretted any of his decisions in life.
Until now.
The door to Haram’s room stayed shut until dusk. Tae-yi had knocked repeatedly, trying to coax him out, but there was no sign of the door opening. Haram had even locked it from the inside.
He’d been too hasty. He should’ve comforted his scared little sky squirrel more before bringing it up. But the urgency had gotten the better of him. He didn’t expect Haram to lock himself in before he could even explain.
Knock, knock—
Night had fallen. The unlit living room was now completely dark. Tae-yi knocked one last time, then gripped the doorknob and gave it a hard twist.
With a strange crack, the knob came off in his hand. Tae-yi set it on the floor and cautiously stepped inside the small room. Underneath the fluffy blanket, he saw a figure shift.
“Da Haram.”
His low voice filled the small space. Haram slowly peeked out from under the covers, looking up at him before quietly closing his eyes again.
“…I’m going to sleep.”
Still flushed from crying, Haram turned his face away as Tae-yi touched his forehead.
“I’m sorry. Just hear me out.”
He’d rarely ever apologized to anyone in his life. But when it came to Da Haram, apologies came naturally—like breathing.
Haram jerked his head to avoid the touch, his voice hoarse and tight.
“I hate all of it… I just want to live quietly, like I used to…”
His weary tone silenced Tae-yi. He quietly stared down at Haram as he burrowed deeper under the blanket, then picked up his phone from the floor and left the room.
Once Haram heard the door close, he emerged slowly from under the covers. He rolled around restlessly, sighed deeply, and stared up at the ceiling.
Maybe he should’ve listened to him. The moment Tae-yi mentioned buying the peanut field, all that hurt just came rushing in. But the people he should be angry at weren’t Tae-yi. They were the ones who kept harassing him—those debt collectors and Changi Construction goons. Yet he’d taken it out on Tae-yi.
He’s probably really gone now. I’m the one who told him to go, so I don’t have the right to be upset…
Tears welled up again, and soft sniffling filled the small room.
***
Out in the yard, Tae-yi stared down at the garden patch in the corner and brought up Haram’s phone.
Without hesitation, he dialed the number. The chirping of birds from the nearby mountain blended with the ring tone.
The call connected quickly—before the other party could even ask who it was, Tae-yi spoke first.
“Yoon Ji-seok.”
—“…Kang Tae-yi? You crazy bastard, where the hell have you been—”
“Your younger brother’s back in Korea, right? I’m hiring him as my assistant. Send him over.”
—“Where the hell have you been? I thought you were dead, I—”
“Farming.”
Yoon Ji-seok sighed through gritted teeth, holding back his irritation from being cut off twice.
—“Farming? Who’d you bury this time? Anyway, I’ll send Yoon Min-ho right away. Where are you?”
Tae-yi cut him off again, ignoring the sarcasm about being presumed dead and now miraculously working.
“Send him tomorrow morning. I’ll text you the address.”
—“This is about Kang Tae-jin, right? I heard about Manager Kim’s body…”
“Come and we’ll talk. I’m hanging up.”
No matter how he looked at it, the only person he could trust was Yoon Ji-seok—an old friend whose family had ties with his since childhood. A bit of a junkie, sure, but still the only one Tae-yi could honestly call a friend.
After hanging up, Tae-yi looked down at the lettuce growing tall like little trees in the garden. He crouched and picked a handful of leaves.
“Da Haram…”
Should I just carry him out on my back? I want to take him with me. No—I have to take him. But I know he won’t come willingly.
“Haaah…”
He hadn’t expected things to end up like this. Kang Tae-jin, as always, was no help. And of all places—why did it have to be this village, and this land that belonged to Da Haram?
Even after telling Haram why he was being chased, he couldn’t reveal his connection to Changi Construction. From Haram’s perspective, he and Kang Tae-jin would seem no different.
And worst of all, he couldn’t go back and confess all the lies he’d told to hide his identity. If everything had been fake, what reason would Haram have to trust him? To follow him? To sell the land?
At some point, Tae-yi realized his hand was full of lettuce. Staring at the now sparse garden patch, he sighed and walked back inside the house, leafy greens in hand.
***
When Haram woke up, his body felt lighter. The pounding in his head had cleared, too.
Now, he kind of wanted to hear Tae-yi out.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Haram sat up in his warm blanket and fluffed out his tail. As he walked to the door—
“…What happened to the doorknob?”
All that remained where the knob should’ve been was a round hole. He blinked in confusion and pushed the door open, stepping into the living room.
I didn’t even feed him dinner yesterday. What did he eat?
Worried, Haram headed to the kitchen—and blinked in surprise when he saw the sink piled high with freshly picked lettuce. He didn’t need to ask who picked them. The sight made him smile before he realized it.
“Tae-yi.”
He gently knocked on the door to the main room. No answer. Carefully, Haram pushed it open.
Usually, the bedding was laid out in the center of the room—but today, it was empty.
“Did he go out…?”
He shut the door and headed toward the front entrance. As he glanced at the shoe rack, he saw Tae-yi’s sneakers still there. But the black dress shoes were missing.
Panicking slightly, Haram rushed back into the main room and flung open the wardrobe. The black suit Tae-yi had worn the first time they met was gone too.
He… left?
The thought hit him like a blow. His mouth went dry.
The instant it dawned on him that Tae-yi might really be gone, tears surged to his eyes.
Crying hard, Haram slipped on his slippers and dashed outside. He was just about to run to the gate when it opened—and there stood Tae-yi, dressed in that same black suit.
“Hnnng…”
The moment he saw him, Haram’s tears flowed even harder than before. It felt like his whole body was crying. And yet, Tae-yi approached him calmly, without a trace of confusion, and gently wiped away his tears.
“Why are you crying?”
Was he seriously asking that? His calm voice only made Haram sob harder.
“You said… hic… you’d send me peanuts… hnnng!”
Peanuts? Oh… right. He had said he’d send some after the harvest. Even now, Haram was thinking about peanuts. Tae-yi couldn’t help but find it endearing.
“So what brought that up all of a sudden?”
Looking up at Tae-yi as he wiped away his tears with those large, warm hands, Haram suddenly burst out,
“You have to know my address to send them! Hnggg…!”
Like a child, he bawled. And as Haram cried, Tae-yi felt a flicker of hope.
Cradling the weepy little Sky Squirrel in his arms, he gently patted his back for a long while. When the crying finally began to subside, he softly spoke.
“Come with me, Da Haram.”
“Hnnng… hic…”
Soaked through with tears, Tae-yi’s dress shirt clung to his chest. Haram sniffled and gasped, hesitating. But then he looked up.
He’d been devastated, thinking Tae-yi had left without a word. That moment had knocked the wind out of him. And that’s when he realized—he wanted to go with Tae-yi.
“J-just for a week. Only one week…”
At those words—the ones he’d been so desperately hoping for—Tae-yi let out a long, satisfied exhale. Almost like a sigh of relief.
