The morning sun bathed the small town of Gwonseon-gu in a golden glow, illuminating the tiled rooftops and the dirt paths that crisscrossed the settlement. Kim Ji-hoon stretched as he stepped out into the crisp air, the faint smell of earth and dew filling his lungs. It was the day after his entrance exam, and for the first time in weeks, Ji-hoon felt no urgency to rush through the day. He had earned a break and planned to savor every moment.

  Gwonseon-gu was a quaint semi-urban town nestled at the foothills of the mountains. Though not bustling like the nearby cities of Suwon, it had everything a small community needed to thrive. The town's heart was its central market street, a lively stretch lined with rows of shops selling groceries, farming tools, and household goods. The market had been there for decades, its cobblestone paths worn smooth by the countless feet of farmers, homemakers, and traders. Vendors shouted enthusiastically to advertise their goods, their voices mingling with the clinking of coins and the hum of conversation.

  Toward the edge of the town stood a small but sturdy school. Its faded paint and aging playground bore witness to decades of service to the community's children. Ji-hoon had spent most of his academic years here, sitting in its crowded classrooms and scribbling notes under the watchful eye of diligent teachers. He had fond memories of the place, from playing soccer during lunch breaks to nervously presenting his science projects at school fairs. Despite its humble infrastructure, the school had produced some of the brightest minds in the town, many of whom had gone on to pursue careers in nearby cities.

  Near the school was a modest health clinic run by an elderly doctor who was both beloved and indispensable to the town. With his round glasses perched on the tip of his nose, Dr. Song was the go-to person for any ailment, from childhood fevers to sprained ankles. His clinic, though small, was always busy, with townsfolk sitting patiently in the waiting area, sharing stories or gossiping as they waited their turn. It wasn’t uncommon to see children leaving the clinic with a lollipop in hand, their tears from a recent injection already forgotten.

  The town’s single movie theatre was a point of pride for the community. Located near the market, the theatre played the latest Korean films, often to packed audiences. For Ji-hoon, the theatre was more than a place to watch movies—it was where he and his friends gathered on weekends, pooling their pocket money to buy tickets and snacks. The scent of buttered popcorn and the echo of laughter were etched into his memories of the place.

  The people of Gwonseon-gu were resilient, hardworking, and deeply connected to one another. Many worked in the fields that surrounded the town, cultivating crops like rice and vegetables or tending to livestock. The rhythmic sound of hoes hitting the soil and the occasional lowing of cows were a constant backdrop to life here. A few residents worked office jobs in local companies, while others commuted to the city for better-paying positions. These city workers often left before dawn and returned late at night or on weekends to spend time with their families.

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  Ji-hoon’s father, Kim Joon-seok, had once considered joining the city workforce. However, he ultimately decided to settle in the town when he married Lee Mi-sook. The decision was partly practical—the city was prohibitively expensive, especially for a young couple starting from scratch. Joon-seok came from an average background and lacked the financial support to establish a life in bustling Seoul. Instead, he found stability in Gwonseon-gu, where he could provide a modest but comfortable life for his family.

  Joon-seok and Mi-sook’s story had been the talk of the town when they first arrived. Their love marriage had caused quite a stir, especially since Mi-sook’s parents had heatedly opposed the union. Mi-sook was resolute. Undeterred by her parents’ disapproval, she eloped with Joon-seok and started a new life in Gwonseon-gu.

  At first, Joon-seok’s own parents were hesitant to accept Mi-sook, worried as love marriages was not common in their families. However, Joon-seok’s determination and evident love for his wife eventually won them over. Over time, the couple proved to be a perfect team, their bond unshaken by the challenges of building a life together. Mi-sook, however, remained estranged from her family. The one time Joon-seok had asked about reconnecting with them, she had grown emotional, and he never brought it up again.

  The couple initially rented a small house in the town, scraping by on Joon-seok’s modest income. Through hard work and careful saving, they eventually managed to buy a home of their own. Ji-hoon’s house stood near the outskirts of the town, bordered by a small vegetable patch that Mi-sook tended with care. The home was modest but warm, with white walls and a red-tiled roof. It wasn’t as grand as the houses in the city, but it was filled with laughter and love.

  On this particular morning, Ji-hoon felt a sense of contentment as he stepped outside. The paths through the town were dotted with familiar faces, each one greeting him with a smile or a nod. He greeted Mr. Choi, the elderly grocer who always had a story to share about “the good old days.” Mr. Choi’s shop was a treasure trove of items, from fresh produce to jars of homemade pickles. Ji-hoon often stopped by to chat with him, enjoying the grocer’s anecdotes about a time when life was simpler.

  Passing the school, Ji-hoon waved at a group of younger children playing soccer on the dusty field. Their laughter echoed in the crisp morning air, reminding him of his own carefree days as a student. He stopped briefly at the market, where vendors were setting up their stalls. The air was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and ripe fruits, and the vibrant colors of the produce stalls created an attractive scene.

  After catching up with his friends, Min-jae and Soo-bin, Ji-hoon decided to spend some time by the river. Gwonseon-gu's river was more than just a body of water—it was the lifeline of the town. Its clear, flowing waters were used for irrigation, fishing, and even as a gathering spot for families. Ji-hoon often came here to clear his mind or enjoy a quiet moment of reflection. Sitting by the water with a fishing rod in hand, he exchanged greetings with a few fishermen who were casting their nets farther downstream.

  The day unfolded in a series of simple yet fulfilling moments, each one a reminder of the life Ji-hoon cherished in Gwonseon-gu. Despite the allure of the city and its promises of wealth and opportunity, he couldn’t imagine leaving this place behind. This town, with its familiar faces and comforting routines, was more than just his home—it was a part of who he was.

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