Mint Is Pure Love - Chapter 36

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“Step noona, can’t I just carry the toys myself?”

“There’s more than just one or two. How are you going to carry all of them? If we put them in a box and write ‘Jiminjae’s toys!’ on it, no one will take them.”

“When we move, let’s invite Seokyung hyung over to play again, okay?”

“…Cha Seokyung is busy.”

I diverted the conversation while stuffing Minjae’s little belongings into a duffel bag.
Minjae, still unaware that I wouldn’t be moving with them, kept chattering about all the things he wanted to do after they settled in.

Mingyu, on the other hand, must have already heard from our stepmom that we wouldn’t be living together anymore — he just sat there, silently shedding tears.

I forced myself to act as if nothing was wrong in front of them. And as for my stepmom… I’d been consciously avoiding her.

Whenever she tried to start a conversation, I’d pretend I didn’t hear her and slip away.
I knew it was petty of me, but I couldn’t help it. Like someone once said — these were all “adult matters.” I was still a kid who put my own pain and resentment first.

I only saw Dad once after that. I went to his office to say.

“I don’t need tuition money for college, I don’t need any inheritance — just give me 100 million won.”

“And are you worth 100 million?”

“What’s stopping me from being worth it?” I shot back.

Ji Sungbeom smirked.

“You’re still my bl00d after all, huh? Just wait. I’ll make you earn not just 100 million, but 10 billion.”

Then, in walked Choi, his secretary — visibly pregnant — and Dad told me to join some “debut group.”

I couldn’t even imagine standing in front of people trying to pick apart my flaws, especially when I could only sing so-so and barely keep up with dancing.

But Dad kept pushing, as if he saw some potential in me.

“From now on, it’s not talent that makes a star — it’s the company that creates them. Better to promote my own bl00d than waste years raising someone who’ll just leave when the contract’s up.”

I didn’t want to hear another word. In the end, I left with nothing — except the sour taste of having seen that disgusting cheating couple’s faces.

On my way out, Choi said.

“Inside the company, you can act however rude you want — I don’t care. But outside? If you pull the same stunt you did last time, you won’t get a single won. Not even one, let alone 100 million.”

She probably still thought Dad was the type to hand over money just because she told him to. He wasn’t. I just scoffed and walked away.

The moving date for my stepmom and siblings was set for the day before school started again. I knew why they were rushing — though I pretended not to.

Of course, I never went to the beach with Cha Seokyung. That summer vacation, I mostly holed up in my room, or saw Seokyung briefly when he came by. The dreamy, fluttery blue summer I’d hoped for? Only the first part stayed that way — the rest turned pitch black, like a notebook scribbled over in frustration.

That morning, the sounds of moving boxes being hauled out filled the air. I refused to look. I wouldn’t care who stayed or left in this house.

When it was nearly time for them to go, I heard, “Step noona.”

I quickly locked my door. The round doorknob rattled lightly — I could picture Minjae’s tiny hands twisting it with all his might.

“Step noona… will you come later?”

“…”

“Noona.”

I pretended not to hear. I wiped my cheeks quickly before the tears could roll down.
It went quiet after a bit — maybe Mingyu had dragged Minjae away.

…Gone? They’re gone now, right?

“Yeonseo.”

“…”

“Mom will call you. Promise you’ll answer, okay?”

Fake. Pretending to care until the last moment. If she really wanted to see me again, she wouldn’t be leaving me here. I swallowed the sobs pressing against my chest.

“Just… hurry up and go already…”

There was a pause, then silence. The last sound was the front door closing. The whole house fell still.

Fine. Better this way. People drift apart when they grow up anyway. I could still see Mingyu and Minjae separately someday.

It was nothing. At my age, everything passes quickly. Goodbyes are just fertilizer for growth, Yeonseo. You’re growing.

That’s what my head said — but the tears kept coming.

Maybe growing up was supposed to feel this exhausting. My eyelids felt heavy, weighted down by crying. I wished I could just sleep for ten years and wake up as twenty-eight-year-old Ji Yeonseo — someone who could laugh about this, someone who didn’t get hurt anymore.

But when I finally opened my eyes again, nothing had changed except that it was dark outside. I was still eighteen. Still on the eve of school starting again.

I wandered out into the dark, quiet house. No grandmother’s white hanbok in sight. No smell of barley tea from the kitchen. Just me — alone in this big, empty, cold silence.

I switched on the kitchen light and drank barley tea straight from the bottle. No one to nag me anymore. Great. If I turned on all the lights and ate something, I’d feel fine. Maybe ramen. That’d perk me up.

But when I lifted the pot lid on the stove, my stomach lurched. It was tteokbokki. A whole pot of my favorite — freshly made.

Two clear drops fell into the red sauce.

The truth was… I knew. My stepmom had never done anything wrong. All my life, she’d carried me on her back, fed me, clothed me, raised me — loved me. And I… what had I ever done for her?

“…Ugh… huh…”

I stumbled into the dark living room.

“Minjae… Mingyu…” I called out in a hoarse voice. No answer.

It hit me then — no one was here anymore. No one to love me, no one for me to love.

Fear crept in. Maybe… maybe they were still outside. Even though I knew they’d left in daylight, I ran barefoot out the front door, across the yard.

“Minjae! Mingyu!”

I flung open the gate — but under the streetlight, there was no car, no one waiting for me.
Only the orange stillness of night.

Regret crashed over me. Longing clawed at my chest.

“…Mom…” I should’ve called her Mom.

“Mom, Mom…”

I should’ve claimed myself as her daughter from the start. I should’ve looked her in the eye, told her I’d visit, begged her to call me. I shouldn’t have hurt her like that.

I sank to the ground, sobbing like a child who’d lost their mother.

“I’m sorry, Mom… I’m sorry…”

I was scared — terrified — that no one would ever love me again. That I’d be alone forever. That all I’d have left were regrets.

“Ji Yeonseo.”

A calm, low voice called my name.
“Yeonseo.”

I didn’t want to turn around — I didn’t want him to see my tear-streaked face. Cha Seokyung hated the sound of crying, hated seeing someone cry.

“…Seokyung.”

But in that moment, I couldn’t help it.

“I… I have nowhere to go… nowhere to be…”

Nowhere felt like mine — not home, not school.

Looking at the way his expression crumbled, I cried even harder. Until Cha Seokyung could only watch me — and drown in it.

Slowly, it rose from the bottom. His muted tears filled me. Until they overflowed.

Ah… so this is why I was afraid. Because I knew your crying face would change me completely. Because all of your sorrow had found its way to me.