Episode 50
19 December 2025, Friday. Morning. Village Gotan-ri near Chuncheon, little hillside street off Chunhwa-ro, Jeong's family home.
Den woke up at seven to the muted sounds from the kitchen
He got up, dressed, and tried to quietly slip into the bathroom—but failed.
Bo-ra peeked out from the kitchen and said calmly,
"Good morning, Do-Nis-ssi. Come when you're ready. I'll make you coffee and breakfast."
Den bowed a little awkwardly.
"Thank you, Eomeonim. I'll wash up and come right away."
He went to the bathroom, washed his face, brushed his teeth.
He studied his reflection for a moment. Critical. Evaluating.
Then took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for the day, and went to the kitchen.
Breakfast was already waiting for him on the table, along with a mug of coffee.
Den bowed again and sat down.
Bo-ra sat across from him, pouring herself coffee.
"How did you sleep, Do-Nis-ssi?"
He nodded.
"Very well, thank you. I feel fully rested."
She smiled faintly, pleased, and they exchanged a few quiet words about the weather, the cold night, the peculiar stillness of village mornings.
At that moment, there was a soft noise from the hallway.
Mi-yeon had bolted out of bed the instant she heard his voice.
She had rushed to the bathroom, trying to be quiet but moving far too quickly for that.
A few minutes later, she appeared in the kitchen, hair neatly tied back, face freshly washed, still slightly pink from haste.
"Good morning," she said, bowing quickly.
Bo-ra looked at her daughter, then at Den, and smiled as if the morning had unfolded exactly as expected.
"Sit down. Eat."
Mi-yeon sat beside Den. For a while, the three of them talked about small things—nothing important, nothing heavy. Just the gentle rhythm of a family kitchen.
Then the front door opened.
Cold air swept in, along with the sound of boots.
Her father came in from outside, having returned from checking the greenhouses. He set his jacket aside and looked at the table.
"You're up early," he said.
"Yes, Abeonim," Den replied, rising briefly before sitting again.
Her father poured himself tea and asked, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world,
"So. What are your plans today?"
Mi-yeon instinctively tensed, but Den answered calmly.
"We were thinking of going to the ski resort nearby," he said. "I like skiing. And I want to teach Mi-yeon how to ski."
Her father looked at Mi-yeon.
"You?"
She nodded quickly, a little embarrassed.
"I've never really learned properly."
A short pause followed.
Her father took a sip of tea.
"Hm," he said. "Be careful. Don't get hurt."
Den bowed slightly.
"I'll take responsibility."
Her father nodded once, as if that was enough, and turned his attention back to his tea.
Mi-yeon lowered her eyes to her bowl, hiding a small, relieved smile.
At that moment Su-ha shuffled into the kitchen, still in her pajamas, hair a sleepy mess. She yawned hugely, stretched like a kitten waking from a nap, and immediately whined,
"Eomma, I'm hungry…"
Bo-ra set a glass of juice and a bowl of rice in front of her without a word.
Su-ha took a long sip of juice, blinked a few times, then fixed her bright, curious gaze on Den.
"Oppa," she said cheerfully, "do you want to see our room? Mine and unni's?"
The kitchen froze for half a second.
Bo-ra's hand paused mid-pour, and she quickly glanced at Mi-yeon.
Jung-guk slowly lifted his eyes from his tea and looked straight at Den.
Den cleared his throat, buying himself a moment. He opened his mouth to reply, but Mi-yeon was faster.
She finally snapped out of her shock and hissed,
"Su-ha! Aren't you awake yet? Go wash your face and comb your hair! Why would he want to see our room?"
She quickly looked at Den and felt her cheeks burning immediately.
Su-ha pouted, undeterred.
"What's wrong with that? I just want to show him my manhwa collection and my plushies. I'll show only my half.
Oppa, don't look at unni's wall. It's embarrassing."
Su-ha looked at Den with a teasing expression and put her hand to her mouth, bent forward and pretended to whisper just to him, but obviously too loud for everyone to hear.
"Unni has her entire wall covered with Cha Eun-woo posters."
Mi-yeon's face turned scarlet. She slapped her palm lightly on the table.
"Su-ha! You little menace!"
Su-ha squeaked and instantly darted behind her father's chair, peeking out from behind his shoulder.
"Appa! Unni is being mean again!"
Jung-guk set his teacup down with deliberate calm. He turned his head just enough to give Su-ha the full weight of his gaze.
"Su-ha," he said quietly. "Sit down and eat."
Su-ha's shoulders slumped. She muttered something under her breath, slid back into her chair, and picked up her chopsticks—though she kept shooting triumphant little glances at Mi-yeon.
Den allowed himself the tiniest smile at the corner of his mouth—but said nothing.
Mi-yeon finally spoke. Nervously fixing her hair, hyperaware of how hot her cheeks felt, her voice trembling with embarrassment and excitement at the same time.
"Not today anyway. We are going skiing right after breakfast."
The kitchen returned to its gentle morning rhythm, as though the brief storm had never happened.
19 December 2025, Friday Late morning. Village Gotan-ri near Chuncheon, little hillside street off Chunhwa-ro.
After breakfast, Mi-yeon and Den were finally released outside—only after Bo-ra had carefully checked that both of them were dressed warmly enough.
"Should we go by car or by bus?" Mi-yeon asked.
Den thought for a moment.
"By bus," he said. "The weather's nice. We can walk a bit. I'd like to see what your hometown looks like."
Mi-yeon nodded.
"Then we should hurry. If we miss the next bus, we'll have to wait almost an hour."
They set off at a brisk pace.
Mi-yeon walked slightly ahead, her steps light and confident, as if the road itself belonged to her. Den followed just behind.
She smiled faintly and said, a little shy,
"At the university, you always walk like this. So confident. I'm always the one following you, barely keeping up. And now… I'm the one in front."
Den smiled to himself.
"At the university, I know exactly where I'm going," he replied. "Right now, I'm completely lost and just want to walk behind you."
The village was quiet in a way Seoul could never be. Snow lay in thin, uneven patches along the road, swept aside in front of houses. Elderly neighbors were shoveling snow near their gates, stopping for a moment to glance at them. Children in padded jackets chased each other between houses, their laughter sharp in the cold air.
Den felt the curious looks on him—his height, his hair, his face standing out immediately. A few people greeted Mi-yeon—neighbors, perhaps old acquaintances of her parents. She bowed politely and greeted them in return. Den followed her lead, bowing as well, even though he had no idea who they were.
No one asked questions. But curiosity lingered openly on their faces.
They reached a wider street, turned right, and started walking toward the village center.
"So what is this street called?" Den asked out of curiosity.
"Chunhwa-ro."
"I thought your street was called Chunhwa-ro."
"It is."
"Okay. I'm a bit confused."
"Well, my street is kind of part of this bigger street, so it's technically the same street."
Den pointed toward the intersection farther down the road behind them.
"I have a bad feeling about this. Let me guess this street is Chunhwa-ro as well?"
Mi-yeon laughed.
"Yes, but not all are named the same. We have a few bigger streets with unique names. Our street is actually bery big. It goes through several villages."
Den smirked.
"I just gained immense respect for Korean delivery drivers."
Mi-yeon pushed Den lightly on the shoulder.
"Oh, stop being so dramatic. It's not that bad."
He looked at her, teasing.
"Not that bad? Mi-yeon, you have streets that grow sideways like tree branches."
She lifted her arms and laughed.
"What can I say? My people love to complicate things."
After ten minutes of walking, they reached a larger intersection—the kind that marked the center of the village. Cars passed more frequently here. Across the road stood a modest municipal building, some sort of community center or perhaps a town hall. On the other side stretched a row of one- and two-story buildings with small shops on the ground floor: a bakery, a café, a convenience store. Warm light glowed through their windows, a quiet contrast to the cold air. At the end of the street, another large gray building stood out.
"It's my elementary school," she said, pointing to it. "I used to love it there,"
There was a hint of sadness in her voice.
"But my middle and high schools were in Chuncheon, which I survived more than I enjoyed.
Su-ha doesn't seem to mind it though. At least for now."
Den didn't have a chance to ask about it. A bus appeared at the end of the street.
"Oh—there!" Mi-yeon said brightly, peering down the road. "Nine-o-sixth! That's our bus!"
They both smiled.
Then, almost at the same time, they looked away, pretending to focus on the bus as it approached—each of them suddenly very aware of how close the other was standing.
The village felt still around them, as if watching quietly, letting them pass.
19 December 2025, Friday. Noon. Gangwon-do, Elysian Gangchon Ski Resort, beginner slope.
The beginner slope was small and very gentle—the kind of place where people first learned how to stand on skis without fear. Along the side, a slow rubber conveyor belt carried people uphill, a "standing lift" that moved at an almost comically calm pace.
At the top of the slope, Mi-yeon stood on her skis.
In front of her—facing uphill, with his back to the slope—stood Den.
One look at her eyes was enough. She already regretted this.
With a mix of envy and panic, she watched small children—three, maybe four years old at most—slide down one after another like ducklings following their mother. All of them moved carefully in a "pizza" shape behind an instructor.
She stretched out the words as she spoke, half-pleading, half-panicking.
"I can't do this, Den… I really can't. Please, just ski by yourself and I'll watch from the side…"
He smiled.
"Mi-yeon, I didn't come here just to ski," he said gently.
"I came to teach you. I even suffered through kimchi last night for this. At least try. Just one day, okay? If you still hate it by evening, I won't force you anymore."
She shifted her weight uncertainly from one ski to the other, stared at the slope with dread, then looked back at him with something close to despair.
"And if I crash and die?" she said dramatically.
"You promised my dad you'd take responsibility for me! How can you risk my life like this? You should be ashamed!"
Den let out a quiet laugh and sighed, continuing patiently.
"Mi-yeon, this is a training slope. You can't crash here, and you definitely can't go fast enough to do anything dangerous—even if you try. Look."
He nodded toward a toddler wrapped in a thick scarf, sliding carefully between his father's skis, holding onto a pole the man gripped firmly with both hands.
"That baby probably isn't even two yet. He can't speak yet, but he's already skiing."
They both watched the child for a few seconds.
Then Den said,
"I'll ski right in front of you. I'll go backward. Even if you lose control, you won't go past me. I'll catch you. I'll stop you."
She swallowed.
"You promise?"
"I give you my word."
"Okay…" she said weakly.
He positioned himself directly in front of her, back to the slope, so that her skis were between his. He gently took her by the elbows.
"Alright. Make your skis into a slice of pizza. Tips together, heels apart."
Mi-yeon froze.
His hands on her elbows were firm, not intimate—but steady, grounding. The sensation went straight through her.
Oh my god… I'm going to lose my mind…
Den leaned in slightly, meeting her eyes, misreading her stillness as fear.
"Mi-yeon? Can you hear me? Don't be scared. Set the skis at an angle and we'll go slowly. I'll go very slowly. I promise."
She nodded quickly, forcing herself back into the moment. She adjusted her skis the way he told her to.
They began to slide down.
Very slowly.
From the outside, it was almost ridiculous—barely a slope, barely any speed at all. But inside her head, everything roared. Her ears rang, her heartbeat pounded, and she forgot entirely about balance, technique, or dignity.
She looked only at Den's eyes.
Clung to them.
As if they were the only solid thing in a wild, endless ocean.
19 December 2025, Friday. Afternoon. Gangwon-do, Elysian Gangchon Ski Resort, the lift "A".
A couple of hours later, Mi-yeon was finally starting to enjoy herself.
They took a short break at a small café right on the slope, eating a warm rice cake and drinking hot cocoa. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her body relaxed, fear replaced with a light, pleasant excitement.
Warmed up and full, she said decisively,
"I don't want to go back to the beginner slope."
Den looked at her.
"I'm the only adult there. It's all kids. It's embarrassing," she added, then hesitated for half a second before continuing. "Let's go to a real slope. The easiest one—but a real one."
Den raised an eyebrow, uncertain.
"You're still scared to ski alone even on the training slope," he pointed out carefully. "Are you sure?"
She nodded.
"Yes. I'm scared to ski alone even on a tiny slope. But with you, I'm not scared anymore. So I want to try a real descent."
She looked at him directly.
"You'll hold me the same way, right?"
Den smiled.
Her logic broke every rule of proper ski instruction he knew. But right now, what mattered to him wasn't perfect technique—it was that she enjoyed herself.
"Alright," he said. "Let's find a wide beginner run."
They got on the chairlift. Den lowered the safety bar and showed her where to rest her skis on the foot support.
Mi-yeon's breath caught.
She stared down at the mountains spreading beneath them, the trees, the snow, the distance. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.
At one point, she even let go of the bar, stretched her arms out wide, and laughed, tilting her head back.
"I'm flying like a bird!"
Den watched her with a soft smile, patiently waiting for the inevitable realization—the one that came to everyone the first time they rode a lift.
Just about now… he thought.
Right on cue, Mi-yeon noticed how close they were to the top. She snapped her head toward him.
"Wait—how do we get off?!"
Den chuckled.
"Getting off a lift for the first time… it's like a first kiss," he said lightly. "Hard to explain, exciting, a little scary—but somehow it usually works out on its own."
Her eyes widened in outrage, panic and indignation colliding on her face.
"Denis Sokolov, are you making fun of me right now?!
Explain it properly! Immediately! I'm going to die of fear!"
He laughed, warm and harmless.
"Don't worry. I won't let anything bad happen. When we pass the red markers, we lift the bar. When the lift slows down at the end, we stand up and slide gently to the side down a small slope. If we fall, the operator will stop the lift. It's really not a big deal."
He added calmly,
"The most important thing is to take your skis off the footrest in time. Otherwise, we won't be able to lift the bar."
Still glaring at him, Mi-yeon nodded and carefully removed her skis from the support ahead of time.
Den placed his gloved hand over hers.
"Don't be scared when we get off," he said quietly. "I'll hold your hand."
She nodded again.
And his hand stayed right there, covering hers.
19 December 2025, Friday. Afternoon. Gangwon-do, Elysian Gangchon Ski Resort, "Rabbit" slope.
They went down the slope together.
At first, Den held Mi-yeon firmly by the elbows. Then, on the wider and gentler sections, he began to let go, controlling her only by keeping her skis between his as he continued skiing backward. He took hold of her elbows again only on the trickier parts of the run.
They completed the descent successfully a couple of times.
On the third run, however, Mi-yeon—feeling a little more confident—let her attention drift for just a second. She lost her balance.
Panic hit instantly. She squealed, picking up speed.
Den reacted instantly, catching her around the waist.
She slid straight into his arms, sweetly and innocently, her hands braced against his chest.
They came to a stop.
She looked up at him, eyes wide, not daring to move, and whispered,
"…Oops."
Den looked down at her.
"Did you get scared?"
"A little," she admitted softly. "But I knew you'd catch me… You always do."
He met her gaze.
Flustered by how close they were, she tried to joke, her voice shy,
"We're… standing really close. Like a scene from a K-drama…"
At that exact moment, the snow beneath Den's right ski gave way. He lost his balance.
Mi-yeon squealed as they tumbled into the snow—Den landed right on top of her.
He lifted his head, blinking snow off his eyelashes.
"Mi-yeon?"
From somewhere beneath him came a cheerful, grumbling voice:
"I'll take that back!"
He quickly rolled to the side.
They lay on their backs in the snow, side by side, laughing, breathless, staring up at the winter sky.