– Jangcheon?

“Yes. Jangcheon County PR ambassador. To be precise, I’ll promote Jangcheon peaches. There’s some trot singer now, find out how much contract time they have left, and if there’s no plan to renew, tell them I want to do it.”

– Suddenly?

“Suddenly.”

– Brother, we’re not that desperate. Even if all drama ads are blocked, if we endure, it’ll work out. Everyone’s just watching the government…

“I won’t take pay. I’ll do it as a talent donation. There’s no money in it anyway.”

Yoo Ji Ho was silent. He was probably making his own calculations. Yoo Ji Ho sees things Choi Yoon doesn’t.

While waiting, Choi Yoon lightly rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. His eyes followed Kim Tae Rin. She was busy arranging villagers with the peach orchard as a backdrop. A smile never left her pretty face.

Everyone looked bewildered yet happy. The formation Kim Tae Rin gestured for slowly came together, then fell apart as they playfully joked around. They were all giggling and carrying on as if preparing for a photo was so much fun.

Suddenly, Choi Yoon couldn’t remember when he last genuinely smiled while taking photos. For him, photos were work. Feeling somewhat strange, he asked again unnecessarily.

“Is it a difficult request?”

– No, it’s not difficult, but why such…

“Can you get an article out within an hour?”

– I have to. Do you have a direction in mind?

“It might look good to write that Choi Yoon volunteered as PR ambassador out of concern that the emergency measures are hindering agricultural distribution and affecting livelihoods.”

Pushing and shoving “you go first”, they finally burst into laughter. Someone lightly embraced Kim Tae Rin. She stumbled slightly, then brushed back her hair and looked up. Their gazes crossed obliquely. Her bright smile remained, as if she were smiling right at him.

“The local specialty here is peaches. Make sure to include that line. As for the photo…”

Choi Yoon coughed slightly. His voice came out oddly cracked.

“I’ll send the photo.”

– I hear someone laughing? How is it there? Is it bearable? Sounds like you’re having a lot of fun.

His tone didn’t expect an answer at all. It was teasing.

Yoo Ji Ho seemed to want to believe Choi Yoon had fallen for Kim Tae Rin, but Choi Yoon couldn’t understand at all what basis Yoo Ji Ho had for thinking that.

“I didn’t come here for fun.”

– Right. I know you went for the grand public good. So you haven’t found evidence of the impersonator yet?

“I’m looking. Still looking.”

– I told you that woman is fine, didn’t I? Why make trouble for yourself? More importantly, have you tried her cooking?

The clouds moved, and sunlight suddenly poured down. Choi Yoon shaded his eyes with his hand. Kim Tae Rin turned to look this way. It was blinding.

Gesturing with his open palm for Kim Tae Rin to wait a moment, Choi Yoon answered.

“Some people’s hands must be different. Because they’re different, even the same food tastes different.”

– Wow, that delicious? But why did every business she started fail?

“…What? Failed? What failed?”

When Choi Yoon raised his voice, Kim Tae Rin, who had been waiting for him, opened her eyes wide. Choi Yoon hastily turned away. He asked in a lowered voice.

“Wait. You didn’t say anything like that yesterday. It wasn’t in the materials you sent either.”

– It didn’t seem related to the impersonator, so I didn’t send it. But I have to go now. Send the photos right away. Don’t post on SNS first!

“Ji Ho. I told you to send everything. Don’t pick and choose, just send everything related…”

The call cut off abruptly. Choi Yoon stared blankly at his phone.

Failed? What?

Yoo Ji Ho said it wasn’t related to the impersonator, but Choi Yoon thought otherwise.

Failing means attempting.

You don’t say something failed just because it slipped a little. You have to crash hard and break your whole body to fail.

To fail big, you have to attempt big. So if Kim Tae Rin failed at something, that’s exactly why she became an impersonator.

Damn it, Choi Yoon roughly rubbed his lips.

Why didn’t I think of this? I should have asked Yoo Ji Ho what Kim Tae Rin did right after leaving the orphanage. That was the key.

Why did I think Kim Tae Rin was the type to cling to a successful plastic surgeon for a free ride?

‘Have you ever thought about why someone would go so far as to risk their life to impersonate someone?’

Kim Tae Rin had asked that, but Choi Yoon had never seriously considered the question. In fact, the reason didn’t matter at all. But now it was different. He was curious.

Once you become an impersonator, it’s hard to turn back. But why?

What was the reason she ruined her own life?

He texted Yoo Ji Ho.

Turning around, everyone looked to be in a great mood.

An elderly human woman was holding the wings of the elderly dragonfly spirit next to her and putting them on her head. Everyone was laughing at the sight of her trying to shade herself from the sun, and the carefully arranged formation had long since collapsed. Kim Tae Rin too had melted in, looking like family.

“Ah, over here.”

Kim Tae Rin, still smiling, beckoned to Choi Yoon.

Though he knew there was a spot left open for him in the middle, Choi Yoon strode purposefully towards Kim Tae Rin. She was on the far right. Kim Tae Rin waved her hands, pointing to the center spot.

“No, not here, over there in the middle…”

“I’ll stand here.”

At Choi Yoon’s answer, the neighbors each moved a step to the side to fill the empty space in the middle. Kim Tae Rin also reluctantly moved over a step. Choi Yoon stood next to Kim Tae Rin, on the far right of the formation.

Ji Chun Bae, who had been adjusting the angle of the camera on the tripod, straightened up and shouted loudly.

“People behind Choi Yoon! You’re blocking, so everyone take one step to the left!”

For some reason people burst out laughing at that too. As the back row shifted sideways, now the closest person to Choi Yoon was Kim Tae Rin.

They weren’t touching, but were very close, so there was a slight warmth on Kim Tae Rin’s side compared to the empty, somewhat cool opposite side.

Suddenly he wondered what Kim Tae Rin looked like from this angle. But it was hard to actually look. If he turned his head now, they’d be close enough to feel each other’s breath, and that would likely stir up emotions.

This isn’t because I have feelings.

It’s just because she’s objectively too pretty.

It was like summer rain or winter snow. No different from the logic of why the public likes Choi Yoon.

So I decide not to fall for my own reaction. I decide not to assign meaning to the dizzying tension constricting my throat.

As I told Yoo Ji Ho, I didn’t come here to have fun.

Keeping his gaze on Ji Chun Bae carefully handling the camera, Choi Yoon tilted his head slightly towards Kim Tae Rin. Just that was enough to feel Kim Tae Rin’s shoulder stiffen.

Choi Yoon lowered his head even more. He whispered a question.

“Would you prefer living with me for a month or a year?”

He sensed Kim Tae Rin pulling back slightly and looking up at him blankly. Choi Yoon didn’t look at Kim Tae Rin. He kept his gaze fixed on Ji Chun Bae’s jet-black wings as he fiddled with the camera.

Kim Tae Rin’s voice was heard asking.

“What do you mean?”

“Choose.”

“One day.”

“…Alright.”

Ji Chun Bae took his hands off the camera and hurried over. As soon as he squeezed in among the neighbors, Choi Yoon put his hand on Kim Tae Rin’s shoulder.

Kim Tae Rin drew in a breath. At the same time, the camera went click.

Choi Yoon withdrew his hand. Ji Chun Bae leapt forward and shouted.

“Everyone stay still for a moment! I need to check if it came out well!”

Kim Tae Rin turned her body to face this way directly. Choi Yoon could no longer avoid it.

Sunlight rolled over her round ear exposed by her tucked-back hair.

She was prettier than expected, which was regrettable. Perhaps people look prettier at 2 PM.

Damn it, it was enough to drive a person crazy.

“What are you doing right now?”

“You said you wanted to end the cohabitation quickly. Then we need to get maximum efficiency in a short time.”

Kim Tae Rin looked confused. Choi Yoon thought she probably didn’t even know what expression she was making right now.

Kim Tae Rin hesitated.

“If we get caught up in rumors…”

“Exactly. Only if I put my hand on your shoulder will people spread the articles, right?”

Kim Tae Rin’s jaw tightened as if she was biting the inside of her lip. Choi Yoon spoke soothingly.

“We’ve already started. The photoshoot isn’t everything.”

He wanted to reassure her.

“I won’t let you get hurt. You just stayed still and I put my hand on you. If anyone gets cursed at or suspected, it’ll be me.”

Kim Tae Rin raised her eyes as if she’d made up her mind. Her eyes under her lashes were so dark it made his chest cold.

“But you should have told me beforehand.”

“If we plan it, it won’t come out natural. You’re not an actor, Tae Rin.”

Ji Chun Bae, who had been looking at the camera, raised his head and shouted loudly.

“Everyone came out fine. Anyone want to retake it?”

A few shook their heads or waved their hands.

Ji Chun Bae’s gaze swept over the neighbors, then stopped on Kim Tae Rin. He asked lightly.

“Tae Rin, what’s wrong? Want to retake it?”

“No.”

Kim Tae Rin answered. She added after a beat.

“It’s fine.”

That’s when it happened.

Like an awl, a sound pierced the air. It was so faint he thought he’d misheard.

But almost simultaneously, a flock of birds burst from the bushes with a flapping of wings. That wingbeat was as clear as a sudden shower, making it impossible to dismiss the earlier sound.

It was definitely a gunshot.

The villagers froze in an instant. Their smiles faded. They exchanged glances without a word.

Kim Tae Rin moved first. She darted forward and jumped into a nearby truck. She started the engine.

Jang Yong Sik, who came to his senses next, gestured urgently for people to come over and shouted.

“Let’s go! Let’s go see what happened! Just a few people get in, hurry!”

With Jang Yong Sik and Ji Chun Bae in the lead, several people piled into the truck bed.

“Choi Yoon, get in!”

Kim Tae Rin shouted loudly through the open window.

As soon as Choi Yoon climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door, the truck lurched forward. Kim Tae Rin, gripping the steering wheel so hard it might break, asked urgently.

“Do you think they caught that escaped impersonator?”

Choi Yoon shook his head.

“Probably not. The police aren’t staying here to catch the impersonator.”

Choi Yoon’s guess was right.

When the truck arrived roughly where the soldiers had gathered, what lay sprawled on the road was a dead giant bird.