Mint Is Pure Love - Chapter 50
[Playlist 02]
Even from the short, businesslike tone, Yeonseo could tell the text wasn’t sent to just her. Technically, it had gone out as a group message—to her, her classmate Shim Haemin, and senior Yeo Eunjoo. And of all people, her first project partner had to be Cha Seokyung.
Yeonseo stared out her small studio window at the blindingly bright sky.
“Wow… what a day.”
It was the kind of dazzling May day that made you think of cheesy old song lyrics—May is green, and we grow. The sky was impossibly blue, the air fresh, almost too bright to look at.
Wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a thin pink button-up thrown over it, Yeonseo brushed down her long hair and remembered the plans she had for the evening.
When she’d told Kim Jawoon she might have to postpone because of school work, what had he replied again?
[Let me know when you’re done. I’ll be waiting.]
Honestly, her first thought was: That’s a little much. She felt guilty, sure—but they’d only met once. For someone she barely knew to latch on like that… it made her uncomfortable.
She’d told him again that she really couldn’t make it, but Jawoon refused to back down, saying he’d wait.
[Let’s decide later this afternoon. If it really won’t work, I’ll cancel for good. ]
Walking toward the parking lot Seokyung had told her about, she made up her mind—fine, they were strangers now. She’d worked too hard to get into this school, was on good terms with everyone, and she wasn’t going to mess it up.
Besides, that’s what he wants. He’d said he didn’t want to remember anything that had happened with Ji Yeonseo—said he’d forgotten it all. The past six years, and the person Seokyung was now, made that clear.
If that’s what he wanted, she felt she owed it to him to respect it. She hadn’t kept the promise she’d made back then—to wait until things were fixed.
She told herself it was guilt, or maybe a sense of debt, but it didn’t quite fit. None of her feelings after seeing him again fit neatly into one category—it was like trying to finish a puzzle with a few pieces missing.
When she rounded the corner, she spotted the courtyard outside the academic building. Eunjoo and Haemin were already there, chatting with Seokyung.
Leaning against a sleek silver sports car, Seokyung wore a fitted black T-shirt and dark jeans, looking like he’d stepped straight out of a fashion ad—effortlessly striking without even trying. Whatever they were talking about had the two women smiling wide.
“Hello, seniors,” Yeonseo greeted as she walked up. Only then did the three of them turn to look at her. Eunjoo and Haemin smiled warmly. When her gaze met Seokyung’s, she gave a polite nod instead of looking away.
“Hello, sunbae.”
She bent at the waist in a formal bow, but he didn’t bother to return the greeting—just spoke.
“Alright, everyone in.”
Eunjoo took the passenger seat without hesitation, while Yeonseo and Haemin headed for the back.
When Haemin opened the door, there was a cardigan lying on the seat.
“Uh… Seokyung sunbae, can I move this?”
“Yeah, just put it anywhere in the back,” he replied casually, and Haemin folded it neatly before placing it by the rear window.
Once Yeonseo got in and shut the door, the silver car glided smoothly out of the lot. The weather was perfect, but for some reason, her mood wasn’t.
“Wow… so pretty,” Eunjoo murmured, taking endless photos with her phone. Yeonseo couldn’t deny it—the scenery was stunning.
She’d wondered what was so important it had to happen on a Saturday, but their destination turned out to be Yeouido’s cherry blossom road. Soon, the four of them were strolling beneath the trees, petals drifting like snow.
It felt a little cliché—spring and cherry blossoms—but apparently it had been Eunjoo’s idea, and Seokyung told them not to worry about finding project material today.
“Spring doesn’t last long,” was all he said, eyes fixed not on the blossoms, but on the Han River beyond them.
Still, Yeonseo couldn’t help admiring the scene. The trees were covered in soft pink and white blooms, clumped like popcorn, fluttering away whenever the breeze passed through.
She realized she hadn’t stopped to appreciate anything like this since entering college—not even before then.
During her repeat years—first two, then three—flower viewing hadn’t even crossed her mind. Her mother had told her to take it easy, but knowing exactly where the tuition money came from, she couldn’t.
Her father, Ji Sungbeom, had never cared about the money spent on his daughter—not that she’d expected him to.
At one point, she’d nearly given up on university altogether, thinking she might settle for any school in Seoul, then deciding even that wasn’t worth it. She’d drifted for a year, working odd jobs, unsure of what she wanted.
Her youngest brother Minjae, got sick, her second brother Minkyu, started sports, and expenses piled up. Yeonseo had focused on helping her mom earn money.
Only later, after another year, did she reluctantly give in to persuasion and start studying again.
So yeah—past eighteen, she’d never really spent her time like this. Never taken in the small gifts a season could leave behind.
A gust of wind blew a petal across her cheek, tickling her into laughter. She caught it in her palm and snapped a quick photo, planning to send it to her mom.
“Want me to take your picture?”
The voice made her turn—Seokyung. But of course, he wasn’t talking to her. He was speaking to Haemin, who was busy with her phone.
“Yes, sunbae!”
Haemin, all fresh-faced twenty-year-old energy, posed under the blossoms in a flowy, floral dress. Yeonseo glanced down at her own casual outfit, then at Eunjoo’s flats and neat blouse.
Great. I thought this was work. Guess everyone else came to play.
Seokyung took several shots with his digital camera, his gaze warm and gentle—as if photographing someone he genuinely liked.
He coaxed Eunjoo into a turn under the trees too, her face flushing slightly as she looked at the lens. All of them, it seemed, looked at Seokyung the same way—like he was another blossom.
Finally, his eyes landed on Yeonseo. “Should I take yours too?”
He spoke to her with formal politeness, always keeping that distance—never “Yeonseo” or “junior,” just you.
“No thanks, I’m good,” she replied, without a second thought. He didn’t ask again.
After a lap around the blossoms, they headed to a nearby café for what was supposedly a project meeting—but felt more like a Cha Seokyung fan club.
“So, when are you enlisting, sunbae?” Haemin asked, practically ready to write a dissertation on him. Yeonseo sipped her strawberry juice.
“I’m not planning to.”
“What? Why? Are you sick?”
“No, nothing like that. Just… personal reasons.”
He changed the subject smoothly, like he didn’t want her asking more.
Yeonseo’s eyes drifted to his lean waist. Why wouldn’t he serve? Bad back? Internal issues? She brushed the thought aside as her phone buzzed.
[Doing okay with school stuff? I’m all ready, so call me when you’re done.]
[If you’re late, I can at least drive you home.]
[No pressure ^^]
It was almost six. They weren’t even working on the project—she could leave. Better to meet Jawoon now and talk things out.
“Is that Jawoon oppa?” Eunjoo suddenly asked, like she’d read her mind.
“He’s been texting me too, asking if we’re going to be much longer.”
The hint of intrusion made Yeonseo frown.
“You two had plans today, right? Hey, Cha sunbae—shouldn’t we let her go now?”
Seokyung, lounging diagonally in his chair, looked at her for the first time since they’d entered the café. Until now, he’d only been chatting lightly with Haemin or Eunjoo. His eyes said plainly: Oh, right. You’re here too.
He was good at it—excluding her just enough that only she would notice.
He’s going to say yes, she thought.
Instead, he glanced at his watch.
“No, that won’t work.”
“Why not, sunbae?”
“I invited the whole team to dinner—sort of a kickoff party for the project.”
She hadn’t heard a word about this.
“…If you’re going to set times for things, it’d be nice if you could give both a start and end time,” Yeonseo said carefully.
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
“Once the real project starts, I will. If today messed with your plans, then sorry.”
She was about to nod in acceptance when he added, almost lazily.
“But if you’re too busy dating to even come to a team dinner, I have to wonder if you’ll see this through to the end.”
Their eyes met. No longer indifferent—his gaze was cool, almost sharp.
“I told you ahead of time this would take hours. No matter how crazy you are about someone, you should know how to keep work and personal life separate. At your age, that’s not too much to expect, is it?”
“…”
“If you want to go, then go.”
Was this an argument? Some kind of silent contest? They just stared at each other, neither looking away.
If losing meant being labeled the girl who ditched work for her boyfriend… she’d take it.