To the young autumn, drawing was just a small game imitating her father.

Since childhood, she followed her father better than her mother.

There was no special reason.

Her kind father liked her to join him in the studio, saying it might be bothersome sometimes when her mother took Autumn out, excluding those times, it was always a sequence of being at home, the studio, and drawing together with her father.

She never thought of quietly sitting and not leaving the studio because being next to her father felt good. The sight of her father drawing somehow started to look cool.

When Autumn wanted attention, she drew a weak picture in colored pencils in a small sketchbook, proud to show off for the first time.

Dad, Autumn drew flowers too!

Although she thought she might be scolded if she continued to attract attention, her father never once pushed her away during those times.

He simply put down the apron and brush he was carrying, lifted young Autumn, and showed her the drawing.

Wanna take a look, Dad?

How is it, Dad?

Autumn, you draw well like Dad. What can’t our daughter do?

Hehe… No, nothing like that.

The smell of paper and paint in the studio.

The warmth of the afternoon sun on her back as she lay down on the floor to draw.

The warm breeze and the sound of cicadas sneaking in through the open window.

Then, falling asleep, her father gently lifting her when she woke up.

Even pretending to sleep until they got home because she liked being carried by her father. Even when she was caught pretending to sleep by the slightly ticklish movement of her feet, her father continued to carry her to the end. At that time, she thought her father really didn’t know.

The first time she held a brush was when her father was busy drawing several landscape paintings, leaving soon before an exhibition.

As more people came looking for her father, it became difficult to get attention even though she was in the studio with him.

At that time, it was so young that there was no concept of why her father was working so hard or why it was so heartbreaking…

She wanted attention from her busy father, so she used unreasonable whining for the first time.

Dad! I want to draw too!

Really? Then, is Autumn drawing in this sketchbook? Well, Dad will look later…

No, not that. I want this too!

How awkward he must have been when he was busy.

It would have been enough to say it couldn’t be done, but instead, her father sat her down and handed her a brush.

Well then, do you want to draw a tree, Autumn?

…Huh? Really? But I want to draw flowers.

Then, let’s draw. If Autumn wants to try, there’s nothing she can’t do.

But why a tree? I want to draw flowers.
People say they really want to see the tree Dad drew. Dad drew everything else, but there’s no tree right now? Dad is having a hard time, can Autumn help?

Really? Then, Autumn will draw everything for Dad.

Despite bravely offering to draw, Autumn hesitated, unsure whether she would ruin the drawing or not. Yun Dae-ho placed his hand over her trembling hand and guided her to move as she wished.

The warmth of the touching hands felt good, and it was fun. She felt proud of helping her dad with what she always thought was cool work.

However, when she saw the completed drawing, Autumn burst into tears.

What do I do… Ugh. Autumn ruined Dad’s drawing.

She thought she could do well, so she reached out to help, but a eerie tree that could appear in a horror movie was born.

Seeing the upset Autumn, Yun Dae-ho, who had laughed at her tears, wiped them away with the back of his hand and said.

Isn’t this the most splendid tree Dad has ever seen?

Don’t lie…

It’s true. Well, shall we test it out?

…Test?

Baffled, Autumn suddenly stopped crying and looked at her father with curious eyes.

Whether this drawing will sell or not.

With confidence and no sign of anxiety, her father’s figure, brimming with confidence, seemed as vast as the large, proudly displayed willow tree in the town. It looked solid. It was different from the tree I drew.

Autumn’s large willow tree cherished even a small and ugly tree.

If it sells, it will prove that Autumn’s drawn tree was a good painting for someone.

As Autumn hesitated and struggled to answer, Dae-ho picked, smiled.

So, will you trust Dad? Autumn, you drew a pretty good tree.

Yeah… But will this really sell?

Of course.

Strangely, as her father confidently stated, the painting was sold on the day of the exhibition.

She didn’t know who bought it, but at that time, it was fascinating that the painting I had drawn together was sold.

With that money, they bought beef on their way home and had a delicious meal with her mother. Her father said it tasted even better because she ate it thanks to her daughter.

Even though it was a grotesque tree… someone wanted it.