“I just wanted to see you,” responded Sun Hee. “That’s why I came looking for you.”
There was an impenetrable stillness between the two. The insects that danced around the lightbulbs were livelier.
After quite some time, Seok Chun said, “I’m sorry about what happened last night.”
“Me, too. But let’s not talk about that anymore.”
Seok Chun was enamored with Sun Hee’s breezy personality, which cleared away the stagnant air of uncertainty and embarrassment between the two.
But then, Seok Chun had to inform Sun Hee of the bad news. “I was thinking… either tomorrow or the next day… of going home as soon as the machine gets assembled.”
“Why?” Sun Hee exclaimed impetuously. She looked shocked and stopped in midstep.
“Well, I think I will get lonely if I stay here. And besides, what else is there for me to do?”
“You promised to teach the factory workers how to operate the new machine, didn’t you?”
“I did at first.”
“Then you have to keep your promise. It’s your responsibility, as someone from a larger factory, to assist people like us from a smaller factory, even if you don’t think much of us.”
Seok Chun was at a loss for words.
“I can’t believe this,” continued Sun Hee. “You promised.” She paused. Then her eyes lit up as though she realized something. “Comrade Seok Chun, won’t you teach me how to operate the lathe machine?”
Seok Chun looked at Sun Hee in delighted disbelief.
“Comrade Sun Hee, a lathe machine is nothing like a friction press.”
“Yes, but, you see, my work is repetitive and monotonous. I want change, something new.”
Seok Chun restrained himself from revealing his joy in having found a new excuse to stay.
“By the way, Comrade Sun Hee, you sing really well.”
Sun Hee guffawed, “That’s belated applause. It seemed like you left because you couldn’t stand it.”
“No. It was because I was moved,” insisted Seok Chun.
“Liar,” whispered Sun Hee teasingly.
Sun Hee’s response was affectionate, a sign she was growing more comfortable with Seok Chun. This pleased him immensely.
Seok Chun stopped walking and turned to face Sun Hee. His abrupt movement caused his chest to bump into the curve of her shoulder. Sun Hee was startled at this sudden movement. She felt a strange sensation running through her, as if her body had become sensitive to even the slightest contact.
In the bright moonlight, Seok Chun could see her timid eyes, her long thick eyelashes, the blush on her cheeks, and the contours of her lips. His eyes followed her long neck, curved shoulders, and lingered on the swell of her breasts.
At that moment, Seok Chun was so driven by impulse that he reached out and grabbed Sun Hee’s hands. Her hands were small, firm, and warm. She felt shy, but she cautiously allowed him to hold her hands.
Seok Chun hastily whispered, “Comrade Sun Hee, do you love me?”
Sun Hee, with her hands still in his, turned her head to the side.
“Huh? Tell me please.”
The intervals between Seok Chun’s breaths became shorter.
“Please don’t do this,” Sun Hee whispered apprehensively. Sun Hee freed her hands from Seok Chun’s and lightly slapped his chest. Seok Chun did not budge.
“You love me, right?” he asked loudly.
“Shh! Someone might hear you!” Sun Hee cried, surveying her surroundings.
She slapped his chest harder.
“Please, tell me,” begged Seok Chun.
“Let’s just meet again tomorrow.”
Sun Hee retreated with playful eyes. Seok Chun let out a robust laugh, pregnant with his burning passion for Sun Hee. She responded with a coy smile.
“Would you allow me to escort you to your dormitory?” he asked.
“No need. It’s right there,” Sun Hee said. “You should go. Your roommates must be wondering where you are.”
Sun Hee walked away and soon disappeared into the dark night, while Seok Chun gazed fixedly after her.
Thereafter, Seok Chun did not return to his home in the city. Even after his two friends had left the village, Seok Chun postponed his return for another ten days or so, teaching the local factory workers methods for operating the new machines.
On the night before Seok Chun had to leave, a crescent moon dimly illuminated the vast sky. Seok Chun and Sun Hee met at their regular place, the riverbank near the willow trees.
Silver fog quietly descended from the majestic mountains and veiled the landscape. From the dim mountains beyond the hills rushed a strong river, gushing along its wide path with enough force to cut deeply into the earth, rumbling and crashing, washing over rocks and boulders, until it reached the lower rapids. The branches of the willow trees by the riverbank swayed, and the leaves fluttered with life. Pebbles covered the bank, and rocks glistened in the moonlight. Two large boulders leaned close together as though they, too, had come out to share their love for each other. It was a sublime sight, lyrical music, composed on nature’s instruments.
Across from the rapids, somewhere in the hills, a cuckoo cried a melancholy song. Legend has it that a poor old woman died and then turned into a cuckoo, which cried for her abandoned children. However, tonight, even the cuckoo’s sorrowful cries sounded affectionate to the two lovers.
Seok Chun sat on a rock, placing a guitar borrowed from a young man from his dormitory on his lap, and began to strum. He was not trying to demonstrate his guitar skills to Sun Hee, who already had musical talent and artistic sensitivity well beyond his capacity. Instead, he wanted to show her the tender side of his brusque personality. He did not consider this behavior foolish or arrogant but a genuine display of sentiment that emerged from the simplicity and innocence of his love for her. However, his guitar skills fell short of his desire to express his feelings—his fingers stumbled around the neck of the guitar and produced stubbed sounds.
After a few more attempts, Seok Chun sighed with disappointment and set the guitar down. The hollow body gave out a loud, resonant sound. Sun Hee encouraged him with a quiet sensibility. “There is too much ambient noise around the riverbank. A guitar should be played indoors, where there are better acoustics, for it to produce its true sound.”
Seok Chun was grateful. He knew that these words conveyed Sun Hee’s love for him. Strolling together by the river in the late evening, breathing in the fragrance of the evening mist, hiding in sheds to avoid getting wetter from the rain were unforgettable moments of their budding love affair. What else would these moments be other than love? He loved her, and Sun Hee loved him back. He looked at Sun Hee with soulful, passionate eyes.
Sun Hee coyly played with a string that hung from the front part of her dress. She appeared more attractive tonight than ever before.
The rapids released a cool, refreshing scent as they flowed forcefully down the valley. Foam from the tides and the small waves shimmered in the moonlight. Larger waves crashed and spread over the bank, momentarily dissipating the reflection from the moonlight, and then proceeded to flow in tranquil bliss. Another set of waves washed up along the riverbank and withdrew, and then another, over and over again.
“Comrade Sun Hee, the rapids also seem to have life. The river sounds like it has a thousand emotions.”
“Ever since I was a young child, I’ve loved the sound of the river rapids,” Sun Hee said.
“I wish I could play nature’s deep and profound melodies with my guitar.”
“Try it. You can do it,” encouraged Sun Hee.
“No, I can’t. I don’t have the talent,” Seok Chun confessed.