Chapter 9
Ryu-jin was born an illegitimate child.
It would’ve been better if she’d been the hidden daughter of some rich chaebol, but no—her foolish mother had fallen in love with a mediocre, married office worker.
The moment she revealed she was pregnant, the man suddenly changed, insisting he could never abandon his wife and children. Yet her mother clung to him, determined to give birth to Ryu-jin in the hope of holding on to him.
So, did it work?
Of course not.
“Don’t worry, Ryu-jin. Soon we’ll be able to live together with your father.”
Every time her mother brushed her hair, she would whisper this. Little Ryu-jin would stare blankly at the mold-stained wallpaper and nod.
When did those nods turn into weary sighs?
Maybe it was the day she realized there was no point in calling someone “Dad” who didn’t bother visiting even once a year.
Or maybe it was when she looked at her mother begging pitifully into the telephone—and found her more pathetic than pitiful.
“Don’t you miss our Ryu-jin? Don’t you think it’s cruel for her to grow up without a father?”
Her mother wanted desperately to etch Ryu-jin’s existence into that man’s heart. But it was pointless.
To him, mother and daughter were nothing but leeches—clinging, clinging, never letting go.
The meager allowance he sent, just enough for them to keep their mouths shut, was laughably insufficient to support the two of them.
Dreams of having what other children had were luxuries Ryu-jin could not afford.
Still, she didn’t hate her mother.
Her mother was suffocatingly kind and foolish, yes, but not someone Ryu-jin could ever hate.
As she grew older, her mother’s clumsy longing for that irresponsible man became disgusting to watch, but Ryu-jin thought: She was stupid enough to bear me, so of course she couldn’t erase me either.
But watching her mother’s life up close gave her one undeniable lesson:
I’ll never live like her.
Every day she swore she’d never be a woman who clung to a man.
Not just in silence—sometimes she even blurted it aloud, wounding her mother.
“I’ll never live like you, Mom. Not even if I die.”
“Good. Don’t live like me, Ryu-jin. Living like me… it’s not so great, is it?”
Even with eyes full of hurt, her mother still smiled.
Idiot.
Fool.
The most naïve, pitiful woman in the world.
And yet—
“I still love you, Mom.”
Despite it all, her mother was the only person Ryu-jin ever loved.
That love was what kept her going.
At least, until her mother got sick.
“Ryu-jin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”
“If you’re sorry, then don’t die.”
“I won’t die. How could I? I’ve done nothing for you yet. If I die, you’ll be all alone. Who will dress you, wash you, feed you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I already dress myself, wash myself, feed myself.”
Ryu-jin was seventeen when her mother collapsed.
By the time they went to the hospital, the cancer had already spread beyond control.
Ryu-jin dropped out of high school and worked part-time jobs, one after another. But no matter how many she juggled, she couldn’t cover the crushing cost of chemotherapy.
The thought that she would lose her mother no matter what filled her with rage.
Why my mother? Why only my mother?
You dragged her down into this life. You made her suffer. You can’t just walk away without paying.
“My mom is sick. If you don’t send money, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Her voice didn’t even tremble when she threatened her biological father. In truth, she was ready to do anything.
Sensing her conviction, he sent the money without protest. It was enough to continue treatment for a while.
But day by day, her mother withered. Each time she heard her pained screams, Ryu-jin’s chest tore apart.
When treatment ended and her mother wore the expression of someone begging for death, Ryu-jin’s heart plummeted into the void.
She realized then that there was no reason for her mother to keep fighting.
She was in too much pain, too much torment. And clinging only to Ryu-jin as her reason to endure was unbearably cruel.
“Ryu-jin…”
Even then, her mother always smiled at her. As if to say, Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. This storm will pass.
Ryu-jin stroked her mother’s thin arm, her hollow cheeks, and prayed with all her soul.
“Won’t he… come see me, even just once?”
If her mother had to suffer so much, then at least let her father suffer too.
“Patient Jeong In-ae, time of death: 6:47 a.m.”
Her mother died when Ryu-jin was nineteen.
In that moment, Ryu-jin’s life stopped.
The one and only person she had ever loved, the only person she could love, was gone.
“Ryu-jin, I came because I was worried. Are you eating properly?”
After the funeral, someone visited her home: the owner of the barbecue restaurant where she worked. He carried side dishes, obviously prepared by his wife.
Ryu-jin stared at the food. The man had once bragged he couldn’t even boil ramen by himself.
When she said nothing, just stared, his cheeks flushed and he turned his gaze away.
She knew she was pretty. And she was used to men who disguised their lust as kindness, expecting something in return. She knew how to handle them.
But still, to look at a nineteen-year-old like that—
Did he have children of his own somewhere?
Her father must have approached her mother the same way.
A dirty desire wrapped in a thin film of generosity.
How many women had ruined their lives falling for this act, just like her mother?
Suppressing her disgust, Ryu-jin smiled sweetly.
“Would you like to come in for a moment?”
That day, while the restaurant owner was showering in her bathroom, Ryu-jin called his wife over.
When the man stepped out, shamelessly naked, his wife was waiting.
He was beaten to a pulp.
And Ryu-jin laughed.
And then she cried.
“Ryu-jin… Even if you don’t live like me, please live kindly. Promise me.”
What do I do, Mom?
I think I’m already ruined.
Because if I don’t want to live like you, I can’t afford to be kind. Or naïve.
So I’ll…
I’ll live like trash until the day I die.
