I fell in love at first sight.

Summer, four years ago.

A narrow trail that could barely fit one person wound up and suddenly opened to a breathtaking view, with a small wooden building standing alone quietly below.

It was nearly in ruins, but maybe that’s why I liked it even more. Kim Tae Rin, who stood facing it, felt the same.

The hard-to-find location was like a long-kept secret, and the collapsed exterior, untouched by people, mirrored my situation with just one old suitcase to my name.

There was only one issue. Money would have to be given up.

This restaurant is not one that can make money.

So Sul Ri had just been designated as a depopulated area. The already small population was steadily leaking out, spurred by government compensation.

Those who remained were either long-time villagers or a few with complicated circumstances.

No fool would take over a restaurant that sold only one or two dishes a day, regardless of the chef’s skills.

But if finding a place to stay was more urgent than money.

It was summer. Kim Tae Rin explored the village for several days, eating and sleeping at the community center with the village head’s permission.

Fruits and vegetables grew and ripened visibly each day under the scorching sun.

Even the roadside weeds grew dense after every shower, the frightening speed making one realize how little civilization had touched this place.

When the sun set, it became as dark as space, and at dawn, the sun slowly spread over the water-filled rice paddies, pooling in the ditches before suddenly brightening the surroundings.

On the fifth day of her stay, sitting on the hot embankment with her bag beside her, legs dangling, watching frogs and water striders swimming in the trickling stream reflecting the afternoon sun, Kim Tae Rin made a decision.

Let’s try one more time here.

A hamburger steak factory? A franchise representative? I dreamed too big.

It was too extravagant; just looking at it kept ruining my life.

Yet I didn’t want to let it go. They say giving up is also courage, but if I had the strength to walk, I wanted to take one more step even if it ended there. They say to discard dreams if they’re greed, but I wanted to indulge a little more.

Let’s try one more time. I firmly decided.

Standing up from the embankment, I put on my bag and called the real estate agent. I said I would contract the restaurant.

It was a restaurant that couldn’t make money. I knew that. It didn’t matter. Just start, and slowly find a way.

Kim Tae Rin was twenty-one at the time.

Everyone was curious about this young woman who opened Hamburger Flower Restaurant in the most remote corner of So Sul Ri. Passing customers invariably asked why she was running a restaurant in such a rural area at an age with a bright future ahead.

Kim Tae Rin answered, “Other restaurants have expensive rent,” “This restaurant lets me live here for free just to manage it,” but as these questions became too frequent, she eventually replaced her answer with a pretty smile, pulling up the corners of her mouth.

One might question whether simply smiling can stop the barrage of questions from others, but for Kim Tae Rin, there was no room for argument.

Kim Tae Rin’s features. When faced with her delicate features reminiscent of glass artwork, and the cold, clean atmosphere as if covered in winter’s veil from head to toe, anyone would be prepared to appreciate her smile as much as her answer.

Especially if one were to meet those pitch-black eyes with their strangely bizarre glow, as dense as an old coniferous forest, they would understand even more. Why that small restaurant was so beloved by the neighbors.

The main menu item at Hamburger Flower Restaurant was hamburger steak.

But she would make anything if a customer requested it. The prices were arbitrary, and sometimes she didn’t charge at all.

The five menu boards that Kim Tae Rin had painstakingly written letter by letter when first opening the restaurant had long since become useless.

Customers didn’t even properly name the hamburger steak. They called it “that thing,” “the delicious one,” “what Tae Rin is good at making,” “the big meat patty,” or “anything Tae Rin wants to make.”

So Sul Ri had almost no visitors except for mail carriers and delivery drivers, so there was no such thing as floating population.

Therefore, customers meant regulars. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that all 150 or so villagers were regulars because everyone loved Kim Tae Rin’s cooking. However, since not everyone came to eat every day, there were only three or four tables a day at most.

Thus, the low income was a separate issue from Kim Tae Rin’s cooking skills.

Moreover, it was difficult to strictly charge money to a grandmother who brought another grandmother with dementia, and many regulars paid for their meals with peaches or sweet potatoes instead of money.

Kim Tae Rin dreamed of a franchise business, so she wasn’t satisfied with just enough income to maintain a moderate livelihood, especially not with a few bundles of dirt-covered green onions.

So she started selling online. When an order came in, she would immediately shape round hamburger steaks, freeze them, pack them in ice boxes, and ship them out. If a customer ordered additional sauce or garnish, she would pack it together.

Sometimes, when she felt like it, she would include a handwritten letter. It’s cold these days. Take care of your health. I’ve put my heart into this. Thank you for your order, and other such generic messages.

The income from online sales increased very slowly. The growth was so slow that from afar, it looked like a pitiful straight line stuck to the ground.

But she didn’t give up. In fact, she couldn’t think of any other path.

After persistently holding on, this small business brought in a stable income.

Though her hands cracked from kneading meat dough and her eyes stung from frying onions, Kim Tae Rin continued her sales tirelessly with a grateful heart.

She wasn’t particularly happy.

If only she could reclaim the patent rights stolen by Hae Woo Foods someday. If Hamburger Flower Restaurant could spread nationwide as a chain, then she believed she would finally be happy.

So for now, it was a saving stage. She frugally saved not only money but even the luxury of feeling small happiness, not spending it carelessly at all.

There were many sparkling beautiful things around Kim Tae Rin, but she hardly realized it. Because it had no meaning for now. She thought she could only properly enjoy such pretty things after succeeding.

She even considered her own refreshing appearance a hindrance to her dream. She often confused whether customers’ compliments on her cooking were truly evaluations of the food, or just words attached to see her cheerful face one more time.

However, even in such diligent days, she couldn’t have suspected anything about the building owner written on the contract. That she would still have it even after experiencing such an incident.

Choi Yoon.

To think this restaurant belonged to Choi Yoon. Kim Tae Rin tossed once in her bed.

The bedding she had left out to dry in the morning made a crisp sunlight sound. Along with it, the sound of dishes being put into water downstairs was unbelievably gentle.

‘I’ll do the dishes.’

The image of Choi Yoon, with a face that could rule the world if looks were power, calmly saying he would do the dishes as if visiting a friend’s house, was vivid in her mind.

Kim Tae Rin slapped her cheeks with both palms.

That face. That voice. Those broad shoulders. And those eyes she occasionally met. So deep, as if he had advanced to autumn alone in this early summer.

The water sound from the first floor suddenly stopped.

Then footsteps. The creaking sound of the stairs grew closer. After the sound of a door closing, it became quiet.

It seemed Choi Yoon had entered the guest room as Kim Tae Rin had instructed.

He really can do dishes. Unexpected. Despite growing up in a house with a live-in housekeeper.

Kim Tae Rin had almost become that housekeeper. If she had taken one wrong step. If she hadn’t heard that conversation.

Remembering that moment still choked her breath. What would I be like now if I had chosen differently then? If I had opened that front gate and entered.

Her phone rang, and Kim Tae Rin groped for it while lying down. Wondering who would call at this late hour, she sat up startled as soon as she saw the caller ID.

“Teacher?”

− Tae Rin, I was thinking, aren’t you living too much as a human these days?

“Pardon?”

− Transform into a fox, eat, sleep, walk on the grass, roll in the dirt. It’s not good to stay human all the time. You become rigid.

Kim Tae Rin checked her desk calendar. There were very few red circles marking the days she transformed into a fox.

“Ah… I used to rest as a fox in the mornings, but recently the neighbors have been coming to the restaurant early to protest, so I haven’t been able to…”

− See? That’s why you’re not feeling well. It’s accumulated fatigue.

“I’ll wake up early tomorrow morning and have a bowl of feed. The state of emergency has been declared, so I think the protests will pause too.”

− And I got what you asked for. They say crackdowns are strict these days, so they asked for some time to prepare.

Kim Tae Rin didn’t understand for a moment. Then she realized.

“This quickly?”

− Quickly? Actually, as soon as the full investigation announcement came out, I personally put in a request first, and they just got back to me now. You said you’d stop the full investigation with protests, but that’s not easy, you know.

Kim Tae Rin buried her face in her raised knees. She answered in a shrinking voice.

“Thank you.”

− You need to come up as soon as they contact you. Always be on standby. I paid for it, so don’t worry about money. Though I’m not sure if this guy will run off with the money like the last one…

“How much was it?”

− It’s gone up since last time, but don’t worry about it. More importantly, you’ll need settlement money when you immigrate, how much do you have on hand now?

“Don’t worry about me.”

− I know your situation all too well. Just tell me comfortably.

“I’ve found a way to get money.”

− Suddenly?

“Choi Yoon seems to want to film and release footage of me running the restaurant and the neighbors living here.”

− What? What are you talking about?

Kim Tae Rin pulled the phone away from her ear and then brought it back. She spoke quietly.

“The police have started controlling access, he says. Things might get big soon. Choi Yoon wants to stay in the village and protect the people here.”

− To prevent isolation?

“Yes. He said he’d give me as much money as I want. I can pay back the costs that went in this time too, so please tell me everything.”

− Will you be okay? Your face will be exposed.

“It’s fine since the only people who might recognize me are the restaurant staff from when I was young.”

− Didn’t you also attend cooking classes? The orphanage kids or teachers might recognize you too…

“I pretended to be human while attending the classes, and after I recovered, I always wore a hat and mask, so no one has really seen my face properly.”

− If it’s about the money, just forget it. You can pay me back slowly, you know.

“I want to help the neighbors at least while I’m here. Everyone has been so good to me all this time.”

− I’m just worried.

“It’s okay. No one will recognize me. I’ve been living in hiding since I was young…”

− No, not that. Won’t it be hard on your heart when you have to leave later?

“Pardon?”

− You might end up liking it.

“What?”

− Choi Yoon.

“Me?”