Chapter 21

Disgusted with himself, Jeong Iwon set down the ladle and headed around to the back of the house. He climbed onto the stone at the base of the wall and cautiously peered over it.

The vegetable patch came into view.

Looking at the two men working themselves ragged out there, he figured making a little extra food wouldn’t hurt.

“Ah, fuck! These damn weeds! You pull and pull, and they just keep coming! And why the hell are there so many bugs?!”

With dirt smeared all over him and a straw hat jammed down over his head, Kwon Heeseong was waging a miserable battle against the weeds with a hoe. Beside him, Yoon Mujin had stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside, silently breaking up the hard-packed soil and carving furrows into the earth at a frightening pace.

Under the blazing midsummer sun, both men were drenched in sweat.

They may have lost out to Kang Taeon, the main top, but they were formidable bastards in their own right. And yet here they were, reduced to sweating their asses off in a vegetable patch.

The sight was ridiculous.

And, somehow, it tugged at Iwon’s heart.

Fine. They’re working themselves half to death out there. The least I can do is feed them properly.

His resolve softening despite himself, Iwon let out a long sigh and returned to the kitchen.

A little while later, a spread considerably more lavish than usual covered the wooden platform in the yard.

“Come eat.”

At Iwon’s indifferent call, Heeseong and Mujin came trudging back from the field. They’d been dumping water over themselves in the yard and immediately hurried over as though they’d been waiting for those exact words.

“Water! Water! Towel!”

Iwon flinched as droplets went flying everywhere and tossed the towels he’d brought out at them.

One spread his towel beneath himself before sitting down, while the other draped his around his neck.

The whole scene was bizarre enough to make Iwon wonder how his life had come to this.

“Whoa. What’s the occasion?”

Heeseong asked as he picked up his spoon and chopsticks.

“Thanks for the food.”

“Me too!”

The moment they started eating, however, Iwon realized that eating wasn’t quite the right word.

They were practically drinking their rice.

It disappeared at a ridiculous speed.

Heeseong, who had long since thrown his dignity out the window, piled beef bulgogi, garlic, and ssamjang onto a lettuce leaf before stuffing the entire thing into his mouth, cheeks bulging obscenely.

Beside him, Mujin tore into the spicy marinated pork galbi and emptied an entire bowl of rice in the blink of an eye.

With his chin propped on one hand, Iwon eventually gave up on his own meal and simply watched the two of them demolish theirs.

Once Heeseong had eaten enough to take the edge off his hunger, he leaned back and gulped down a long drink of water with a deeply satisfied expression.

That was Iwon’s opening.

“So, I’m actually curious about something. Why are the two of you going out of your way to do all this here?”

Both men froze.

Iwon’s expression was genuinely puzzled, as if he truly couldn’t understand them.

“Heeseong, you’ve got a perfectly good company in Seoul. Why did you come all the way down here just to do manual labor? And you, Mujin. You should be busy figuring out what you’re going to do with your life now, but instead you’ve settled into an abandoned house and spend every day weeding someone else’s field.”

He looked from one man to the other.

“What’s the real reason?”

At the seriousness in his voice, Heeseong let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Are you seriously asking because you don’t know?”

“I don’t! I’m telling you, I don’t.”

Iwon’s voice rose in frustration.

“It doesn’t make any sense. It’s not like I’ve ever been nice to either of you. I spend half my time cursing you out and throwing you out of my house, so why the hell do you keep crawling back?”

Heeseong stared at him for a moment before setting down his spoon with a click.

Then he looked Iwon straight in the eye.

And, without a shred of hesitation, he threw out the simplest answer imaginable.

“Because I like you. Obviously.”

Silence descended over the platform.

Iwon didn’t blush.

He didn’t look flustered.

He merely snorted and shook his head.

“Bullshit. This place is growing a bumper crop of bullshit, seriously.”

“What? Bullshit?”

“Who treats someone they like the way you treat me?”

Iwon stared at him incredulously.

“You barge into a man’s yard, throw a tantrum demanding to be fed, then throw money around just to keep bothering someone who’s already told you to get lost. That’s liking someone? You just think it’s fascinating that something didn’t go your way, so now you’re being stubborn about it.”

Heeseong sighed heavily, looking like he was about to lose his mind.

“Ah, this is driving me fucking insane! I swear to God, I’m serious!”

His voice echoed across the yard.

“Do you think I’ve ever begged anyone for a meal in my entire life? Do you think I’ve ever rolled around in dirt doing manual labor? I don’t even know why I’m like this! I just like you!”

He struck his chest in frustration.

“I like the food you make. I like it when you snap at me. I like being around you. And all of it is making me lose my goddamn mind!”

The proudest man in the room was laying his heart completely bare.

Heeseong had thrown away his pride, his dignity, everything, and was practically begging Iwon to believe him.

Beside him, Mujin had remained silent, fists clenched as he watched the exchange.

Slowly, he raised his head.

Iwon had more or less figured out Mujin’s feelings from his behavior alone. But he had never once heard the words directly from the man himself.

“I like you too.”

Mujin’s low voice fell heavily over the platform.

“Ever since the day you treated my wounds and took care of me, Iwon.”

His gaze remained fixed on Iwon.

“I intended to tell you later, considering the state I’m in right now. But I don’t want to hide it anymore either.”

A pause.

“I like you. I mean it.”

Heeseong’s desperate confession.

Mujin’s quiet, weighty devotion.

Two fierce gazes burned into Iwon at the same time.

And only then did Iwon finally understand.

Neither of them was joking.

Neither was being stubborn.

They were serious.

Yet what bloomed inside Iwon’s chest wasn’t excitement or happiness.

It was a helpless, sinking emptiness.

Me? Someone like me, accepting what those two feel?

The man he used to be had committed every kind of evil imaginable until his own family had thrown him away like garbage. He had been rotten through and through, beyond saving.

With all those sins weighing on him, how could someone like him possibly belong beside either of these men?

And more than that, Iwon was afraid.

He was afraid that letting himself become entangled with them would cost him the quiet, peaceful life he’d only barely managed to build.

Slowly, Iwon looked at the two men.

Then he spoke in a flat, emotionless voice.

“Don’t come to my house anymore.”

Both men’s expressions froze.

“What? Why all of a sudden?”

Heeseong shot to his feet in panic, but Iwon shook his head firmly.

“Sorry. I should’ve done this a long time ago. I was stupid.”

His voice remained cold.

“Looks like you thought sharing a few meals meant we had some kind of relationship. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

A bitter, self-mocking smile tugged at the corner of Iwon’s mouth.

“We’ve already seen each other at our worst. We’ve seen everything. I’m the trash my family threw away, and neither of you is exactly normal either.”

He gave a small, humorless laugh.

“We’ve seen all the way down to the bottom of each other, and now you want to stand there blushing and tell me you like me? Does that make any sense?”

His eyes hardened.

“I have zero intention of getting involved in some pathetic little romance.”

Faced with Iwon deliberately tearing himself down in order to push them away, Heeseong hurriedly shouted back.

“I don’t care!”

His voice cracked with desperation.

“I don’t care if you’re trash or whatever! I’m the one who likes you, so why are you the one making such a fucking fuss about it?”

“The same goes for me.”

Mujin spoke just as desperately.

“Whatever kind of person you are, Iwon, it doesn’t matter to me.”

But Iwon shook his head.

“It matters to me.”

His answer was immediate.

“I have no intention of accepting your feelings, and I have no interest in getting tangled up with either of you.”

He pointed toward the gate.

“So get out of my house. Right now. Both of you.”

There wasn’t even the slightest crack in his resolve.

In the end, the two men had no choice but to drag themselves through the gate with the heavy, defeated steps of cattle being led to slaughter.

“If either of you bastards opens this gate tomorrow, I’ll take that as you completely ignoring what I just said.”

Iwon’s voice followed them.

“And if that happens, don’t ever think about seeing my face again.”

Slam!

The gate slammed shut without mercy.

A moment later came the solid clunk of the wooden bar dropping firmly into place.

The two men stood blankly outside the old gate, glaring at each other with pure resentment.

Their insides were burning. They felt as though they were going insane.

But Iwon’s warning had been unmistakably clear.

Neither of them dared knock.

All they could do was stand there with their fists clenched.

The next day, the house was unbearably quiet.

Only the occasional chirp of a cicada broke the silence. None of the noisy footsteps that had become a constant presence in the yard remained.

“Nice and quiet.”

Iwon muttered the words awkwardly as he sat alone on the wooden floor and began his late lunch.

Yesterday’s leftover bulgogi, pork galbi, and beef-and-radish soup sat on the table looking strangely forlorn.

He’d made enough side dishes for three people, so no matter how much he ate by himself, the refrigerator would remain packed.

Maybe I should’ve sent some home with them.

The thought came belatedly, accompanied by a faint pang of regret.

He picked up a cold piece of bulgogi with his chopsticks and put it into his mouth.

He chewed.

“…Tastes like shit.”

The meat was tender. The marinade was still sweet and savory.

Yet it tasted like sand.

Without the two alphas noisily shoveling rice into their mouths and filling the yard with their bickering, the platform felt unbearably empty.

He should have been relieved.

Instead, every time he glanced toward the vacant yard, a dull ache pressed against the pit of his chest.

I did the right thing.

They were never people I should’ve gotten involved with.

Iwon repeated the thought to himself like a mantra and forced the rest of his rice down his throat.

But every now and then, despite everything he told himself—

regret washed over him.