Perhaps because it was autumn, the sky was clear and bright. When Yeon-woo lowered her gaze slightly, trees covered in every shade of autumn came into view.

She rubbed her fingertips together out of habit.

She had not even crossed the front gate yet, but she could already imagine hearing the sound of a gayageum.

“Arirang, Arirang, Arariyo,
Crossing over Arirang Pass.
My love who leaves me behind
Will not make it ten li before his feet begin to ache.”

Her lips, which stood out against her fair, flawless face, moved repeatedly as she murmured the lyrics.

“Mom, I’m home!”

The moment Yeon-woo opened the gate and stepped inside, the grand old house welcomed her home, its timeless elegance intact. More than two hundred years had passed since its construction, yet it remained as majestic and beautiful as ever.

Richly colored autumn trees seemed to encircle the house, which appeared to embrace them in return. Blending harmoniously with nature, the old residence was always filled with the unending melody of the gayageum.

After passing through the beautiful traditional garden, which could never be fully appreciated in a single glance, Yeon-woo arrived at a set of stone steps. She knew the estate so well that she could navigate it with her eyes closed; her familiar footsteps naturally carried her towards her mother.

She would be in the anchae, the women’s quarters.

Yeon-woo knew this without even having to look.

She crossed the garden, passing the sarangchae (the men’s quarters) on her way.

“Mom!”

The mouthwatering aroma of food drifted from the kitchen in the anchae. Instead of entering the kitchen, Yeon-woo called out to her mother from outside.

“Yeon-woo, just a moment! Let me finish this, and I’ll come out.”

They spoke on the phone every single day, so it was a voice she heard all the time. Yet she could not understand why hearing it now made her so happy. Delighted to be home, Yeon-woo’s lips curved into a radiant smile.

“All right. Take your time.”

Today was her father’s birthday. As he had never enjoyed parties, they had planned to celebrate as they always did, with a simple family meal. However, one of her father’s closest friends, her father-in-law, had asked to join them for dinner this year.

Because of that, her mother was probably preparing the meal with even more care than usual.

Standing before the entrance, Yeon-woo glanced at the raised wooden veranda to the right of the main hall and the master bedroom to the left. She then stepped onto the stone block leading up to the building.

After removing her shoes and arranging them neatly, she climbed into the main hall. With every step, the old floorboards creaked beneath her feet, their peculiar sound curling around her.

As a child, she had been frightened by the creaking. Now, however, she found it comforting. Blending with the melody of the gayageum, it sounded as if the old house itself were singing. A gentle smile spread across her face.

Yeon-woo sat in the middle of the hall with her legs stretched out in front of her. Bracing her hands against the floor beside her hips, she tilted her head back and gazed at the massive ridge beam bathed in sunlight. When she was young, she used to sit on her father’s lap and listen to him talk passionately about the beauty of the rafters, the wooden floorboards and the doors covered in traditional paper.

Now, however, she no longer needed her father’s explanations to appreciate the beauty and timeless elegance of a hanok.

Yeon-woo truly loved this place.

When she lowered her head, she could see the silver magnolia, crab apple and royal azalea trees that had been planted in the front courtyard. She would be able to see them far more clearly from the sarangchae’s wooden veranda. From there, she could also hear the birds singing cheerfully among the branches.

Today, she found herself longing to hear their chirping keeping time with the melody of the gayageum.

The historic residence, composed of eleven buildings spread across nearly ten thousand square meters of land, had been designated a national monument. Her diligent parents had also planted wildflowers behind the residence to attract a constant stream of visitors who came to admire them.

She had heard that her father-in-law had once briefly considered buying the estate. Naturally, her father rejected him without hesitation. However, this incident had brought their families closer, and her in-laws, having fallen in love with the old residence, began visiting frequently.

Yeon-woo closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The faint fragrance of wildflowers drifted towards her, gentle and familiar.

“Yeon-woo, you’re here?”

She opened her eyes at the sound of her mother’s voice. Dressed in a modernized hanbok, her mother emerged from the kitchen while wiping the sweat from her forehead.

“Mom!”

Yeon-woo sprang to her feet and practically ran toward her.

“You’ll trip. Don’t run—walk.”

Her mother must still think she was a child. Don’t run. Eat slowly. Watch out for cars. Everything that came out of her mother’s mouth was filled with concern for her.

“Mom, I feel like this place becomes even more beautiful every time I visit.”

Since she had not been able to visit as often after getting married, the place seemed to transform anew whenever she returned. Unlike when she was young, she now realized just how precious it was to her.

“I keep telling you we should open a teahouse together.”

She was certain a teahouse here would be an enormous success.

“Your father would have a fit if he heard you.”

Yeon-woo knew perfectly well how much her father cherished the old residence. She also knew that he had inherited a considerable fortune from her grandparents, so there was no chance he would ever sell the estate.

“I was only saying it. Why are you taking me so seriously?”

When Yeon-woo scrunched up her nose and smiled, her mother’s warm hand gently stroked her hair.

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s probably showing the visitors who came to see the wildflowers around the grounds. It’ll take him a while.”

That made sense. The estate was enormous, after all.

Yeon-woo nodded in understanding.

“I’ll help you.”

Since her parents-in-law were coming, her mother must have taken greater care than usual in preparing the food. Yeon-woo rolled up her sleeves to help, but her mother waved both hands and stopped her.

“There’s no need. What is there left for you to help with? I’ve finished everything.”

“Then should I at least clean?”

“You’re supposed to rest when you visit your parents’ home. Go relax in your room. I already cleaned it for you.”

Knowing that her mother would stubbornly refuse no matter how much she offered to help, Yeon-woo simply wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. When she was young, she used to lie with her head in her mother’s lap, drifting off to sleep as her mother gently stroked her hair.

Had her mother remembered those days as well? She continued to stroke Yeon-woo’s hair as though she found her daughter unbearably precious.

“Go take a nap and come back afterward.”

“Mom, you must still think I’m a little girl.”

She was already a grown woman and even married. Yet her mother was still telling her to take a nap.

“Of course you’re still a child. You’ll always be my little girl.”

“……”

“Come here.”

Just as she had when she was young, Yeon-woo nestled into her mother’s embrace. Her mother wrapped her arms around her and held her with all her strength. Simply being in her mother’s arms seemed to make all her hardships disappear, and a small smile slowly crept across Yeon-woo’s lips.

“Married life hasn’t been difficult, has it?”

“What could possibly be difficult? I’m happy.”

“That’s a relief. I’ve been so worried about you.”

Yeon-woo thought she knew exactly what her mother was worried about, so she deliberately raised her voice and answered with forced confidence.

“Don’t worry. I’m truly happy.”

“All right. I trust my daughter.”

Yeon-woo gazed at her mother’s gentle smile for a moment before pulling away from her embrace.

“Maybe it’s because I haven’t been home in so long, but I’m feeling sleepy. I’ll take a nap and come back out.”

“All right. Go and get plenty of rest.”

After receiving what sounded like a gentle warning not to come out until she had rested properly, Yeon-woo headed towards the outbuilding where she had lived before getting married.

She pulled the handle and the door swung open with a long, familiar creak. The moment she stepped inside, a familiar scent filled her senses. Without sitting down, she stood where she was and slowly surveyed the room.

Nothing had changed since she got married.

The room was immaculate; not a speck of dust was visible. Yeon-woo could almost see her mother carefully sweeping and wiping every surface day after day.

Her gaze slowly drifted to the right.

Before long, it came to rest on an object standing against the wall.

“……”

It was her gayageum.

Her steps grew heavy as she approached it, as though she were wading through thick mud. The closer she got, the more she instinctively rubbed her fingertips together. It had been so long since she last played it that the calluses had disappeared. Yet when she touched her fingertips together like this, she could still feel their lingering presence.

She had majored in gayageum performance. In hindsight, the instrument had always been by her side. She practiced so tirelessly that blisters constantly formed on her index, middle, and ring fingers. Her index finger in particular would throb whenever it rained, forcing her to take painkillers throughout the monsoon season.

But all of that belonged to the past now.

Seeing that the gayageum was completely dust-free, Yeon-woo realized that her mother had cared for it as carefully as she had cared for the room. Since the instrument was made of wood, it required constant attention to preserve it.

Excessive heat could dry out the wood and cause it to crack, while direct sunlight could make the delicate strings snap. Too much moisture could stretch the strings and interfere with their vibrations, weakening the sound or altering its tone. For this reason, a gayageum could never be stored in a damp place.

One might assume that keeping the instrument inside its case was the safest way to preserve it. However, in truth, a gayageum needed to be removed from its case during long-term storage.

“How carefully must she have cared for it……?”

It was her mother’s love made visible.

A bitter smile touched Yeon-woo’s lips as she reached for the gayageum in front of her.

When she had given up the instrument that had once felt inseparable from her body, it had felt as though a piece of her flesh had been carved away. Yet now, she found herself trembling at the thought of touching the instrument she had once cherished as dearly as her own life.

Her fair, delicate hand glided lightly across the twelve strings woven from twisted silk. There was no reason for them to hurt her, yet a sharp pain shot through her fingertips as if they had been cut by an invisible blade.

She then carefully caressed the akan, where the cords hung in tangled strands like loosely wound skeins of thread.

The distant melody of a gayageum continued to drift in from somewhere outside. Yeon-woo curled up and lay down in the middle of the room.

Closing her eyes, she listened to the music she only ever allowed herself to hear at her parents’ home.

She wasn’t tired, yet sleep gradually began to pull her under. Her body felt weightless, as though she were floating on air.

She surrendered to the drowsiness and sank into a deep sleep.

A short while later…

The celebration of her father’s birthday began with her in-laws joining the family. Although he had never liked parties, her father was happy to accept the cake and gifts brought by his best friend, Yeon-woo’s father-in-law.

Everyone gathered in the main hall around a feast so lavish that the table seemed ready to buckle beneath its weight.

On closer inspection, Yeon-woo realized that every dish was one of her favorites.

“What about the birthday present you promised me?”

Her father asked cautiously, but he could not completely conceal the hope in his voice. At his question, all eyes in the room turned to Yeon-woo.

“……I’m sorry.”

Forcing the corners of her lips upward, Yeon-woo looked at her father.

“It’s all right. It’s all right.”

“……”

“I’ll look forward to it again next year.”

Unable to meet her father’s warm gaze, Yeon-woo lowered her eyes and nodded.

Her father had wanted to hear her play the gayageum for three years, but this wish had remained unfulfilled.

Once again, she could not bring herself to pluck its strings.

In an attempt to dispel the somber mood, her father laughed loudly and produced a large bottle that he had been hiding behind his back.

“Do you know what this is?”

He was speaking to Yeon-woo’s father-in-law.

“What is it?”

“It’s wild ginseng liquor aged for twenty years. I dug up the ginseng myself!”

Yeon-woo let out a quiet laugh at her father’s obvious pride.

“By the way, where did you leave your son?”

As he opened the bottle, her father glanced sideways at her father-in-law.

“Which son?”

In response, her father clicked his tongue. Such behavior would not have been possible if the two men had not been friends since childhood. Who else in South Korea would dare scold the chairman of the TJ Group like that?

“Who else? My son-in-law.”

Yeon-woo flinched at the word son-in-law that left her father’s lips.

“Ah, Taecho?”

“Yes. My daughter’s husband.”

“He should be here soon. Speak of the devil.”

Yeon-woo turned her head to follow her father-in-law’s gaze.

“……”

A man strode confidently across the garden, immediately catching her eye.

It was Ma Taecho, her father’s son-in-law and her father-in-law’s son, as well as her husband, who was approaching them. With every step, he exuded the commanding confidence of a king.

Or perhaps it was arrogance.

For some inexplicable reason, the melody of the gayageum seemed to grow louder with each step he took.

When he finally stopped on the stepping stone, Yeon-woo stared at him and swallowed dryly.