Mint Is Pure Love - Chapter 79

It was truly unexpected. Surprising, even. There was something unmistakably awkward in that expression, but Yeonseo didn’t notice.

Chungju was big. There were plenty of lingerie shops. And Yeonseo had never once told any classmate or club member that her mother ran a lingerie store in Chungju.

So maybe this was just a coincidence… or was it? As she was thinking that, Seokyung spoke as if he’d only just remembered, his tone casual.

“Oh, right. You said your family lives in Chungju. I just remembered.”

“…”

“I came to Chungju for work, and I forgot to bring underwear.”

Every word carried the clear implication: I didn’t come because of you, I didn’t know you’d be here. And yet, his eyes betrayed a trace of worry, guilt, and careful restraint.

Yeonseo wasn’t stupid.

“…Are you spying on me?”

“What?”

The man’s handsome face showed genuine surprise, but Yeonseo didn’t let go of her suspicion. Otherwise, how could you end up here? Don’t tell me this is a coincidence. I know better.

At her distrustful gaze, Seokyung’s face quickly turned flustered. He hurried to explain, desperate to clear the misunderstanding.

“What? Spying? No, of course not.”

Yeonseo folded the character-print boxers she’d laid out for customers, stacking them neatly as she spoke.

“Fine. If it’s not that, then good. Now go. Bye.”

Even with her clear dismissal, the man didn’t budge. She considered snapping again, but then his relaxed voice drifted to her ear.

“I’m here to buy underwear.”

When she turned back, his expression was light, as if that had been his only intention all along.

Cha Seokyung. Somehow, especially in the summer, his face seemed to shine more. Almost unnaturally smooth and radiant, like he’d been some kind of plant in his past life, made to thrive under direct sunlight.

Had he lost a bit of weight? He lifted his brows in his usual way and asked,

“Yeonseo, I really do need underwear.”

“…”

Her mother once said: Even when you throw out someone you hate, you at least let them leave with a pair of briefs on. Why did that saying come to mind when looking at a face like his?

As the only part-timer at Beautiful Lingerie and the responsible eldest daughter, Yeonseo decided to fulfill her duty.

She opened a box of the store’s bestsellersand shoved it toward him.

“Three for twenty thousand won.”

Black, gray, and white briefs neatly folded in a row. Seokyung looked at them and shook his head.

“I can’t wear briefs. They… don’t fit. You know why, Yeonseo.”

Yeonseo snapped her head toward him, glaring. How could he say something like that in my family’s store?

“I need boxers. The stretchy kind in the front. You know why, right?”

“…Why would I know? Stop—”

Ugh. Not worth it. Yeonseo bit her tongue and crouched to search the drawer beneath the display for men’s boxers. She could sense Seokyung leaning over to peek into the drawer with her, though he wasn’t helping at all. She pretended not to notice.

“Yeonseo, what time do you finish work?”

“…Why do you need to know?”

Damn it, where are the proper ones? Every pair she pulled out was the loose, old-man kind.

“Want to have dinner with me?”

“I don’t eat dinner. I’m on a diet.”

Diet? You have nothing to lose, Seokyung muttered under his breath.

“Then how about lunch?”

“I told you, I’m not talking to you for a while.”

“…Can I at least ask how long you’re planning on not talking to me?”

Finally—there. The right kind. Yeonseo pulled out a box and stood, facing him.

“Thirty thousand won. Normally it’s ten percent off, but not for you.”

She didn’t ask if he wanted it. She just bagged the box in paper and thrust it toward him. He didn’t take it, waiting for her answer to his earlier question. With a sigh, she muttered.

“…Until this vacation is over.”

Seokyung exhaled a low breath. A mix of impatience, sadness, and bitterness seeped into it.

“You can’t even wait that long? It was only four seasons with you. Just four. And yet you couldn’t bear it, you had to test me, measure me. But why can’t you give me even a little time to think?”

“…‘Only four seasons.’”

His whisper was hollow, weary. After a brief, empty sigh, he spoke again, almost in confession.

“That’s the problem. You limited me to only four seasons. You were always planning to leave after that. Do you know how anxious that made me?”

“…It was you who suggested it, Seokyung.”

“Let’s just stay together for four seasons. Let’s end things cleanly after that. Just that much time.”

But in that moment, a faint realization brushed Yeonseo. Who had started counting down those seasons first? Herself, or Seokyung?

He licked his dry lips and raked his hand through his hair. His gesture carried the weight of long, worn-down patience.

“You’re right. I was wrong.”

It was pure admission, without sarcasm. His voice carried a strange sense of release, almost transcendent, and Yeonseo’s chest tightened.

“You don’t want to talk to me. Got it.”

He quietly placed cash from his wallet on the counter, took the shopping bag she had forced into his hands, and left. The chime of the shop bell was all that lingered.

What was that supposed to be? I told him I didn’t want to talk. Why push his way in only to leave like that? He admitted his fault, even accepted it, and yet unease pressed down on Yeonseo. His retreating figure looked strangely lonely, like someone she might never see again.

She shook her head to clear it. No, it’s better this way. I’ll use the vacation to sort out my feelings. Then I’ll see him again with a calm face.

But it seemed Seokyung had other ideas.

“Yesterday’s underwear fit well. I came to buy more.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, pulling thirty thousand won from his back pocket.

“…Are you kidding me—”

“I’m not here to talk to you. I’m here to buy underwear.”

“…”

With a mix of disbelief and resignation, Yeonseo handed him the bag. He left right away, as if that really had been his only business.

The next day, he came again, this time buying undershirts he’d probably never wear, leaving behind strawberry juice and a sandwich with the flimsy excuse that he had no time to eat them.

The day after, he bought socks and left a cake. The day after that, handkerchiefs, along with packaged shaved ice.

One day, he even came when customers were inside. After he left, they pestered her with questions: Who was that guy? What’s going on?

By then it had already been four days. And today—

“These flowers were so pretty, I had to get them.”

A lush bouquet of pale blue and lavender hydrangeas extended toward her. The face behind them was looking only at Yeonseo. Even though every beautiful thing in that moment seemed devoted solely to her, Yeonseo’s eyes were not soft.

“…”

This isn’t right. Is he even listening to me? She opened her mouth to scold him— The shop bell jingled.

“Oh, a customer? Oh my!”

A dangerous prelude.

Because of his height and build, Seokyung drew attention even without trying. The woman who had just entered stepped forward, peeking to see his face.

Then, in pure surprise and delight, Yeonseo’s mother clapped her hands.

“Oh my, oh my, if it isn’t Teacher Seokyung?!”

Teacher Seokyung. The nickname she’d given him six years ago, when he tutored the Ji siblings at age eighteen.

Even after all this time, her mother remembered him just as he was: the polite, capable, and kind young tutor. Her fondness hadn’t faded a bit.

“Goodness, Seokyung. How many years has it been?”

They say even if the sky falls, there’s always a way out. Seokyung thought his ancestors were right as he gratefully grabbed the lifeline thrown before him.

“Ma’am, have you been well?”

“Oh my, running into you here in Chungju! Don’t tell me you came just to see Yeonseo?”

Here it goes, her mother’s romantic imagination kicking in again. Before she could continue, Yeonseo jumped in.

“Mom, no. He just came for work—”

“Yes.”

Seokyung was an opportunist. He had clumsily let the most important chances slip through his fingers, but this time, he held on tightly.

“I came to pick up Yeonseo.”

Just that one sentence and the look of joy on her mother’s face made Yeonseo’s head spin.