“By the way, what would have happened if I’d formatted it?
Luckily, I was too busy with a business trip to do it.”
“Exactly.
You truly saved a life.
If you had, I would have been planning to bury that brother of mine somewhere in the back hills.
Haha.”
When the pretty woman cheerfully laughed and said she’d bury her brother, the man flinched in surprise.
Somehow, it sounded less like she’d bury her brother and more like she’d bury him instead.
“Hahaha.
Well, we were both lucky, weren’t we?”
“I just transferred the purchase price plus an additional 50,000 won to your account.”
“Oh… no.
You really didn’t have to.”
“No, really.
Not only did you not format it, but you even returned it to me.
I honestly feel like bowing down to you, Mr.
Bong-gu.”
Hye-won looked at the man once more with eyes full of reverence.
“Well. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
All right.
If that makes you feel better…”
“Yes.
Thank you so much.
Please get home safely.”
“Yes.”
The two exchanged a final, brief nod and turned in opposite directions.
Phew.
What a relief.
A sigh escaped her automatically.
It was a sigh of relief for her, having been on edge and pacing anxiously all weekend because of this.
That man had saved not one life, but two.
One was her brother’s, and the other, her own.
In fact, having been bought over four years ago, it wasn’t a particularly attractive item in the secondhand market.
However, what was contained within it was irreplaceable to Hye-won.
Hye-won hugged the laptop she was carrying even tighter and walked away with quick, short steps.
* * *
“You.
You’re in your ahopsu (A Korean superstition that years ending in 9 (9, 19, 29) are particularly unlucky and prone to misfortune or major life upheavals.) and samjae (Another traditional belief that certain zodiac signs experience a three-year period of heightened bad luck.).”
Hye-won’s mother said this as she placed the bubbling cheonggukjang (Traditional Korean food made by fermenting soybeans) in the center of the dining table.
“What?”
Hye-won, who had been reaching for her spoon, paused.
“You just turned twenty-nine, didn’t you?
You’re in your ahopsu and samjae.
Especially, it’s insal (a period or influence where misfortune comes through other people).
It’s said to be careful of people.”
“What do you mean…”
Hye-won shot her mother a sidelong glance and irritably plunged her spoon into the stew.
Then she glared fiercely at Seo-won, who was hunched in a corner of the living room looking at his phone, unable to join them at the table.