#jeong jaeui

[byuno-o]

CHAPTER 1: LOS ANGELES TO YEONGDONG-DO

"How did it get so late so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before it's June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?"

Brown eyes filled with disdain glanced at a man in his late fifties, sitting upright with one leg resting over the other while one hand held a thick copy of a novel based on Dr. Seuss' illustrations from The Secret Art of Dr. Seuss. The fingers of his other hand touched his tongue before landing on the page, presumably containing the lines he was about to read, before it was turned by those fingers.

"That's true for you, Wookyung-ah, isn't it?" he added, his lips curved in a questioning smile.

Cha Wookyung rolled his eyes at the bothersome man who was not only his relative but also the sole person his father had assigned to look after him. "You know, I wouldn't mind seeing you run three kilometers. Your health took a nosedive the moment we landed," he remarked, emphasizing the word 'run' with a warning smile on his tired, sleep-deprived face. Despite the frustration, the tired nephew had spent the entire long flight tending to his uncle, who had caught the flu a day before the departure date.

"You know," his uncle said, pointing a finger at him, "I've always told your mother that she gave birth to another Wooyeong." The subtle wrinkles on his face deepened at the mention of his older brother, as a familiar face that resembled his own flashed through his mind. Shaking his head, he continued, "You're just like your overbearing father."

"And how should I be, then? Like you?" Cha Wookyung yawned. "Just close your eyes and get some sleep. We've got a long way to go, right Warner?" He tapped the leather of the driver's seat, prompting the stern-faced man with black hair to nod in agreement. His uncle groaned like a child at the confirmation before resuming his reading, this time murmuring the words to himself.

The man had the stance of a gentlemanly hero from the movies of the fifties—and he was also dressed as such. His linen blazer, which coincidentally matched his light-coloured pants, partnered together with his slick, thick line of moustache��cleanly shaved, to give him an aura of authority and poise. Yet, the brown-eyed man who had resorted to sighs at the preposterous way of his uncle's reading habit, which caused him to lose his sleep throughout the journey, could sense the nervousness trying to hide itself from the world. The glitz and the glam could not hide the fact that his uncle was, indeed, a child in the body of an aged man.

Although the instances of that child coming out of that body were rare, since he preferred to keep a frown on his face to ensure he never had to land in any situation which would cause his fears to become evident, there were moments when the facade cracked.

The uncle's meticulous mannerisms, the almost ritualistic way he turned the pages of the book, and his constant need for order and control were all indicative of a deeper, unspoken anxiety. This was a man who had lived his entire life trying to maintain a semblance of dignity and strength, yet behind closed doors, or in the quiet moments of solitude, the façade would crumble, revealing a vulnerability that he worked so hard to conceal.

Like the rest of the men of the Cha household, his uncle was bound by the invisible chains of tradition and expectation.

But that day was one of those rare occasions when Cha Wookyung wished his upright uncle would loosen up a bit and provide him with humorous anecdotes about the person they were on their way to meet and share a bit of history about their long-forgotten property. He sighed, shaking his head as he stared out of the car window.

The mud-ridden road bumped and jostled the vehicle as it made its way through the verdant tea gardens. The blues of the night before had faded into the early morning, although the sun had yet to rise and shine over the tea leaves, which still held onto the dewdrops from the night air. His stretched arm managed to touch the ambitious branches growing outside the fences, causing the delicate dewdrops to fall to their deaths.

There was a sudden jolt that shook the car as it dipped into a small pit of muddy water dug by the incessant rainfall the night before, causing his arm to move like a rubber band. A yelp of pain escaped his lips as he retreated back into the car. He turned to see his uncle rubbing the back of his head.

"Warner!" His heavy voice seemed comical, with his eyes practically popping out of his round, thick-framed glasses. "Drive carefully! At this rate, I'll end up with a broken skull and five teeth!"

Cha Wookyung started counting the times they had encountered such potholes, noting that almost three kilometres still remained to be covered.

"Uncle," he tried to stifle a chuckle, noticing the old man's glasses resting lopsided on his nose, "what can Warner do when there are potholes covering every inch of this road? Matter of fact why did Grandpa never bother to rebuild this road?" he added, attempting to sound serious, though he was partly serious.

His uncle adjusted his glasses and let out a deep sigh. "Your grandfather is a man of principles and habits. He believed in maintaining the authenticity of the estate, which included the road. He always said it was a reminder of our humble beginnings and the hard work that went into building the estate. Besides, he rarely leaves the estate grounds, so he saw no need to improve the road."

Wookyung shook his head. "Times have changed, Uncle. This road is a hazard. We're not living in the past anymore."

His uncle nodded slowly, looking out the window. "Perhaps you're right. But change comes slowly to places like this, unlike us who live fast-paced lives. The estate is more than just land and buildings. It's a symbol of our family's history, our struggles, and our achievements. Sometimes, it's hard to let go of the old ways."

Yet Cha Wookyung never felt any attachment towards the glory of that tea estate.

He added, "also, I hope your Korean hasn't caught rust. You must make your grandfather happy."

"I do know Korean."

"Do you, Wookyung? Do you?"

"I do know how to speak Korean, my dear Uncle. I've been brought up in a Korean household by a strict Korean mother." he retorted in fluent Korean, making his uncle chuckle.

The car hit another bump, causing both men to lurch forward. Warner muttered an apology from the driver's seat, trying his best to navigate the treacherous road. The nephew glanced at his uncle, who had settled back into his seat, the initial shock of the bumps giving way to a contemplative silence.

The brown-eyed man said with a yawn, 'I'll just close my eyes.' The slow sun and the endless rows of tea bushes seemed to make him feel dizzy, so he shut his eyes and soon began to snore. His uncle, noticing the snores, gently covered him with a small blanket before returning to his book.

At twenty-seven, Cha Wookyung—the sole heir of Cha Wooyeong, the owner of one of the largest publishing companies in the United States—felt more like a jaded old man than someone in the prime of his life. Despite growing up with every luxury and zero pressure, the weight of unspoken expectations and unfulfilled responsibilities left him with a burden of thoughts he could never share with anyone, not even his own family.

His life had been relatively enjoyable, marked by routine pleasures. However, he came to realize that fun has a shelf life. The daily grind of office work, gym sessions, social outings, and club nights eventually began to feel meaningless. It was as if the world around him continued to advance while he struggled to keep pace, despite having resources and opportunities that many people fought hard to obtain. The privileges and advantages that were handed to him on a silver platter seemed to only highlight his growing dissatisfaction and sense of disconnection.

In time, Wookyung's inability to adapt and his careless handling of his family's legacy led to a public image tarnished by the media. News outlets branded him as the quintessential rich kid, indifferent to the struggles and hardships of those less fortunate and living like a recluse on his parents' wealth. His perceived lack of purpose and contribution to society further fuelled the narrative of a privileged individual who squandered the opportunities and legacy bestowed upon him.

In Cha Wookyung's defence, by the time he came to understand the struggles of others, he had already lost the desire to live in a society where his image and the assumptions people made about him overshadowed his true thoughts and feelings. The weight of these expectations had drained him, leaving him feeling isolated and misunderstood.

His father, a strict man with an uncanny ability to foresee the future, had noticed the gradual but profound changes reverberating through the empty halls and rooms of the Cha mansion. The once vibrant home had become a place of silent echoes and unspoken tensions. After much deliberation and careful, secretive planning, he decided to send his only son to South Korea. He harboured a fervent hope that this journey would transform his son, reigniting a passion and hunger that mirrored his own.

"Changes come when we least expect it," Cha Wookyung remembered his grandfather's words. He was twelve when the oldest man of the family left United States and returned to his ancestral land. When his father broke the news, the golden-haired man could only think of those words. Since his grandfather's departure, he did not keep much contact with him, partly because he hated phone calls and texts, and partly because Cha Wooshik was a man with a spontaneous personality.

The old man lived like every day was an oyster for him—full of surprises, until he no longer could. One day he would jump off some cliff trying to learn sky diving, and the other day he would end up with an Italian chef, learning how to make ravioli the authentic way. He was very different from his oldest son, who not only detested travelling, but also preferred learning about the world through books and newspapers.

And Cha Wookyung was very much like his father.

As the car ascended a steep road, a sudden jolt roused him from his sleep. His drowsy eyes caught sight of a small gate made of painted, imitation bamboo. A man dressed in winter clothes and a beanie ran toward them from a large house enclosed by walls and the gate. The man promptly opened the gate, allowing the car to glide into the driveway, coming to a stop near a garden that bordered the pebbled path leading to the wooden building.

Despite his family's considerable land and influence in South Korea, Cha Wookyung had never set foot in the country. He was born and raised in Los Angeles, in a wealthy neighbourhood, where he learned little about his family's heritage. It seemed as though his family preferred to leave the past behind, and whenever he questioned about his heritage, he would get half-baked answers, and gradually he gave up on connecting with his other side.

As he stepped out of the car, the man, who appeared older than his uncle, greeted them with a warm smile. The sun had finally risen, casting its rays over the lush greenery surrounding the wooden house. The house showcased traditional Korean architecture, featuring a wooden gable roof clad with dark-gray tiles typical of Hanok design. A deck on both the ground floor and the upper floor, right below the roof, offered cool spaces to relax during the hot summers. Smaller windows in the observatory framed picturesque views of the distant mountains, enhancing the serene and timeless beauty of the home.

"Welcome, Mr. Cha Woogyeon. The master has gone for a walk in the village. He will return by 11," the man said, his voice polite and respectful. "Would you like to rest for a while, or would you prefer to have breakfast?"

"I will sleep. The potholes sure broke some of my bones, I guess." He chuckled taking off his linen coat, "anyway, how are you doing. Mr. Boo? What about your family?"

The man broke into a boyish grin at the mention of his family. In his sharp voice, he said, "I'm doing well. My eldest son welcomed a baby girl two months ago. My younger son graduated a year ago and has been preparing for the bar exam since then. My youngest daughter just started her freshman year at Hanguk University. My wife is living with her—you know how she is."

Wookyung nodded, recalling the memory of the old man's wife tearfully attending their eldest son's college entrance ceremony. Wookyung had visited his father for some paperwork and ended up driving the man's family to Seoul on their eldest son's first day of college.

"Do visit us," as he spoke, he assisted Warner with unloading their luggage from the car, "my wife will be happy to see you and young master." Cha Woogyeon—the younger son of Cha Wooshik—acknowledged the man's words with a nod. His attention was soon drawn to his nephew, who was wandering through the garden, taking in every detail with an inquisitive gaze. The garden was a beautiful blend of traditional Korean landscaping, with carefully arranged stones, meticulously pruned bonsai trees, and a small koi pond that reflected the morning sunlight.

"Wookyung-ah!" His uncle's voice broke through his thoughts, calling him back to the present.

"Yeah!" he responded, his voice echoing slightly in the open space.

"Go freshen up! Your grandfather has gone out for his morning walk. He'll be back soon."

"Alright!" Wookyung replied, a hint of eagerness in his tone.

Mr. Boo picked up Wookyung's luggage, "young master, let me show you your room," he gestured for the golden-haired man to follow. They walked together through the house, entering through a sliding wooden door framed with delicate bamboo panels stitched together by jute thread. The interior was a harmonious blend of tradition and modernity. The floors were polished wood, and the walls were adorned with calligraphy scrolls and Korean lanterns that cast a soft, warm glow.

"Young master, I am Boo Minseok," the man broke the silence, "I've been working for your family for almost thirty years. I live in the village down south. If you ever visit the village, do grace us with your presence. My wife and family will be very happy to see you."

"Do they know me?" he asked, intrigued by the man's contagious aura, "I've never been here."

Mr. Boo shook his head, the wrinkles around his eyes contracted as a long grin canvased his lips, "we've seen you in photos. Master loves to talk about you. He also told me that you had graduated from Harvard. My youngest daughter is in Hanguk. Her name is Sujin. She is very pretty, and docile."

Cha Wookyung could only give a polite smile.

As they moved further inside, Wookyung noticed the intricate lattice work on the doors and windows, typical of Hanok architecture. The corridors were lined with beautiful, traditional Korean paintings depicting serene landscapes and historical scenes. The gentle sound of a nearby indoor water fountain added to the tranquil atmosphere.

They passed through a spacious living area, where a low wooden table surrounded by floor cushions sat in the centre, inviting guests to sit and relax. The room opened up to a courtyard garden visible through large windows, where bamboo plants swayed gently in the breeze.

Finally, they reached his room. The man slid the door open, revealing a serene space with wooden panels covering the floor. A futon was neatly folded in the corner, ready to be laid out for sleeping. A large window offered a stunning view of the garden and the mountains beyond, framing the scene like a living painting. A small, lacquered table held a ceramic tea set, and traditional Korean artworks adorned the walls.

"Please make yourself comfortable, Mr. Cha. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," the man said, placing the young master's luggage gently on the floor before bowing and exiting the room.

Wookyung took a moment to appreciate the tranquil scene, feeling a sense of connection to his heritage that he had never experienced before. He then began to freshen up, his mind filled with anticipation and curiosity about the day's events and the family he was slowly reconnecting with.

If there was one thing he was sure of, it was the fact that his grandfather's words would manifest for many times in Yeongdong-do Tea estate.

[faithful91]

𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 & 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧! 𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.. 𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 🤍

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