PON 07

Now that she looked again, the man’s center was bulging quite noticeably. Jeong-oh’s face flushed crimson.

At that very moment, her grandmother—who had been quietly watching her favorite drama in the room—appeared on the porch without anyone noticing, squatted down, and pointed a crooked finger straight at the man’s lower body.

“That’s ‘cause he’s my prince husband,”

the old woman said, pity softening her wrinkled face.

“Must be hurting something awful, poor thing. He must feel so stifled.”

“Grandma, what did you just say?”

Cheong-seok, who had been laughing until tears formed, froze and stared at her in disbelief. The grandmother met his gaze with her innocent eyes and broke into a warm smile.

“My husband’s a prince.”

“Wait—that prince…?”

Cheong-seok’s eyes darted between the grandmother and the man, then he burst into hysterical laughter.

“Pffft—Hahaha! A prince! That’s perfect! Grandma, you’re a genius!”

He doubled over clutching his stomach. Irritated for reasons she couldn’t explain, Jeong-oh kicked him square in the shin.

“Fine, fine!” he wheezed, still laughing. “From now on, you’re the prince! Prince!”

“Prince?”

The man echoed the word softly, testing its sound. Cheong-seok clapped exaggeratedly like a proud teacher.

“That’s right! You speak Korean well, huh? Your name’s Prince now, okay?”

Seeing Jeong-oh’s expression darken, Cheong-seok quickly sobered and cleared his throat.

“Anyway… we’re gonna have to buy him clothes.”

Jeong-oh’s eyebrow twitched.

What, now I have to dress him too?

But what choice did she have? Without clothes, the man might actually walk around naked, and the old women of the village were already giggling like schoolgirls whenever they saw him.

“Even my clothes don’t fit him, and I’m the biggest guy here.”

“Unbelievable,” she muttered.

She looked over at the man. He was still fidgeting with that same spot, face twisted in discomfort—as if he’d strip then and there if she turned her back.

“This is all debt,” she warned him coldly. “I’m not buying it for free. When you get your memory back, you’ll pay me double.”

Then, with a resigned sigh, she told Cheong-seok to ready the boat.

Leaving her grandmother in Young-ja’s care, Jeong-oh crossed the sea with Cheong-seok and the strange man to the town market.

The man was like a child, wide-eyed and curious, staring at every little thing as if he’d stepped into a carnival. People stared back, whispering at the sight of a tall, striking man wearing clothes two sizes too small.

The pants fit, barely—thanks to the spares Cheong-seok had brought—but no shirt in the house had fit his shoulders.

Still, he walked boldly, chest out, seemingly oblivious to the gawking. Jeong-oh found it impossible to look away—half from embarrassment, half from wariness—as he marveled at the stalls like a tourist.

“What’s this?”

He pointed at vegetables, fruits, and snacks in turn. When they passed the fishmonger’s stall, he spotted a monkfish and chuckled.

“Looks like you, Jeong-oh.”

A sharp flick to the forehead shut him up.

Dragging a sulking “prince” and a snickering Cheong-seok, Jeong-oh made for the clothing store.

She went to the largest men’s shop and asked for their biggest size. The shop owner, who’d been swatting flies in boredom, perked up instantly at the sight of paying customers.

But the man rejected everything.
Too scratchy. Too tight. Too ugly.

Finally, Jeong-oh snapped.

“If you’re that picky, pick something yourself!”

With a careless shrug, he disappeared deeper into the shop and began rummaging through racks. The shopkeeper grumbled but watched with mild amusement.

Moments later, he returned holding a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt.

The shopkeeper’s eyes lit up.

“Well, I’ll be damned! You’ve got an eye, mister. That’s imported! Sharp fella, aren’t ya?”

Clapping him on the shoulder, the shopkeeper ushered him into the fitting room.

While he changed, Cheong-seok yawned and fiddled with his phone—until a text arrived, making him curse aloud.

“Son of a—!”

Jeong-oh looked over, startled.

“What’s wrong?”

“That bastard’s coming back from Seoul!”

“Who?”

“Who else? Park Gye-sik!”

At the name, Jeong-oh’s expression hardened.

Park Gye-sik. Childhood friend turned nuisance. The village head’s only son.

He’d been a spoiled brat since grade school, forever hanging around her like a persistent mosquito—and always getting smacked for it. When her father’s gambling debts grew, Gye-sik had the nerve to suggest she marry him to erase them. She’d nearly broken his jaw that day.

He’d left for Seoul half a year ago when his father fell ill. She’d thought that was the end of it. Apparently not.

“Let him come,” she muttered.

Cheong-seok gaped at her.

“How can you say that? He’s obsessed with you! That troll-looking—”

“Mind your own business.”

“I am minding it! I’m just saying—”

He stopped mid-rant, eyes widening toward the fitting room.

“Holy crap…”

Jeong-oh followed his gaze.

And her breath caught.

Standing before the mirror was the man—hair tousled, shirt half-tucked, sunlight spilling over him through the window. The plain white tee clung perfectly to his lean frame; the jeans hugged his legs as if made for him.

“What… is he?” Cheong-seok whispered. “A model?”

“Or an actor,” Jeong-oh murmured without realizing.

Even the shopkeeper was gushing praise. The man, seemingly deaf to it all, fixed his collar, then turned—and walked straight toward her.

“Jeong-oh,” he said softly, bending close. “Am I pretty?”

The sunlight glinted across his face like water over glass. His eyes shimmered, deep and clear.

Jeong-oh blinked, forcing composure.

“You’re ugly.”

His expression crumpled in disbelief.

“Ugly? Then maybe another—”

“Enough. You’re wearing that.”

“But you said—”

“You’re not ugly!” she snapped.

Satisfied at last, he grinned—like fox, dangerous.

Then, before she could react, he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, Jeong-oh.”

Her whole body went rigid. His lips were warm—soft, fleeting, but undeniably real.

He pulled back, smiling innocently.

“I like it.”

Her heart stuttered wildly. Color rose to her face.

The man chuckled quietly, amused by her reaction. Instinctively, she grabbed his collar.

“You wanna die?”

He blinked, all wide-eyed confusion.

“Why die? I’m alive.”

“What did you just do to me?”

He tilted his head, thought for a moment, then tapped her cheek lightly with one finger.

“A thank-you.”

Before she could move, he kissed the other cheek too.

“Oh my God!” Cheong-seok yelped from behind. “You two—already that far?! Agh—!”

Jeong-oh’s kick landed square on his shin. He hopped in pain while she glared daggers at the smiling man.

He only shrugged, utterly unfazed.

Jeong-oh rubbed her burning cheeks roughly with the back of her hand, muttering to herself.

He’s foreign. It’s just a cultural thing.

Still… this was Korea. Not wherever he came from.

She leveled her gaze at him.

“Don’t ever greet me like that again. Got it?”

The man’s lips curled into a boyish grin.

“Don’t ever greet me like that again.”

“No.”